P. G. R.
fissai lo scuado
nella tua vaga imago
e fui esaudita
Maggio 1888
One picture, curiously realistic, represents two scenes. In the first, a man dressed irreproachably in tail-coat and tall hat—perhaps an Englishman?—sits in a dog-cart with the horse running away. He looks horribly frightened, throws up his arms in despair, and his tall hat has got knocked on to the back of his head. Back to back with this is the same dog-cart, the horse stopping quietly at a door. The man looks happy, and his hat has got straight again. There is no division in the painting between the two sides but two separate scenes are evidently meant.
The last I shall describe is in Rome. Here also two scenes are shown, but the painting is better finished, and each has a half of the tablet to itself. On the right, a lady, fashionably dressed, kneels before an altar in some church, holding a lighted taper in her hand. On the left, two gentlemen in evening dress are fighting a pistol duel; in the air hovers a saint in monk's garb, surrounded by a cloud of fire. Beneath is written: Zelia B. Lugduni a. mdcccxcii, die xiv Iunii, praesentit divinitus discrimen in Megalopoli Huberto B. imminere. Antonium patronum precata averuncet malum omne, bonus praesens deflectit ictum singulari certamine.
Such are these tokens of a simple faith, which still holds its own in this matter-of-fact age. They are worthy of a fuller description than can be given here; and out of the survivals of old-world religion which still remain in Christian countries, a most interesting book might be made.
