Letters from Italy
Auch in Arcadien
FROM CARLSBAD TO THE BRENNER.
As early as three o'clock in the morning, I stole out of Carlsbad; for otherwise I should not have been allowed to depart quietly. The band of friends, who, on the 28th of August, rejoiced to celebrate my birthday, had in some degree acquired a right to detain me. However, it was impossible to stay here any longer. Having packed a portmanteau merely, and a knapsack, I jumped alone into a post-chaise; and by half-past eight, on a beautifully calm but foggy morning, I arrived at Zevoda. The upper clouds were streaky and fleecy, the lower ones heavy. This appeared to me a good sign. I hoped, that, after so wretched a summer, we should enjoy a fine autumn. About twelve I got to Egra, under a warm and shining sun; and now it occurred to me, that this place had the same latitude as my own native town, and it was a real pleasure to me once more to take my midday meal beneath a bright sky, at the fiftieth degree.
On entering Bavaria, one comes at once on the monastery of Waldsassen, with the valuable domain of the ecclesiastical lords who were wise sooner than other men. It lies in a dish-like, not to say caldron-like,
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