di Monte, and of the treasures there. Upon this the lively lady sprang up with a good high jump from the sofa, and as she stood on her feet seemed still prettier than before. She took leave, and running to the door, said as she passed me, "The Filangieri are coming one of these days to dine with me. I hope to see you also." She was gone before I could say yes. I now learned that she was the Princess , a near relative to the master of the house.[1] The Filangieri were not rich, and lived in a becoming but moderate style; and such I presumed was the case with my little princess, especially as such titles are anything but rare in Naples. I set down the name, and the day and hour, and left them, without any doubt but that I should be found at the right place in due time.
As my stay in Naples cannot be long, I take my most remote points first of all: the near throw themselves, as it were, in one's way. I have been with Tischbein to Pompeii; and on our road all those glorious prospects which were already well known to us from many a landscape-drawing, lay right and left, dazzling us by their number and unbroken succession.
Pompeii amazes one by its narrowness and littleness,—confined streets, but perfectly straight, and furnished on both sides with a foot pavement; little houses without windows, the rooms being lit only by the doors, which opened on the atrium and the galleries. Even the public edifices, the tomb at the gate, a temple, and also a villa in its neighbourhood, are like models and dolls' houses, rather than real buildings. The rooms—corridors, galleries, and all—are painted with bright and cheerful colours, the wall-surfaces uniform; in the middle some elaborate painting (most of these have been removed); on the borders and at the
- ↑ Filangieri's sister.
