efore is
he annoyed at the bustling host who must needs come and bring the wine
just at this supreme, delicious moment. An outlook upon an avenue,
patterned by brilliant strips of light! There a horseman has pulled up,
and a glass of something refreshing to drink is being handed up to him
on horseback.

Before this picture stood the two friends Edward and Theodore. "The
more I look at this singer," said Edward, "in her gay attire, who,
though rather oldish, is yet full of the true inspiration of her art,
and the more I am delighted with the grave but genuine Roman profile
and lovely form of the guitarist, and the more my estimable friend the
abbot amuses me, the more does the whole picture seem to me instinct
with free, strong, vital power. It is plainly a caricature in the
higher sense of the term, but rich in grace and vivacity. I should just
like to step into that arbour and open one of those dainty little
flasks which are ogling me from the table. I tell you what, I fancy I
can already smell something of the sweet fragrance of the noble wine.
Come, it were a sin for this solicitation to be wasted on the cold
senseless atmosphere that is about us here. Let us go and drain a flask
of Italian wine in honour of this fine picture, of art, and of merry
Italy, where life is exhilarating and given for pleasure."

Whilst Edward was running on thus in disconnected sentences, Theodore
stood silent and deeply absorbed in reflection. "Ay, that we will, come
along," he said, starting up as if awakening out of a dream; but
nevertheless he had some difficulty in tearing himself away from the
picture, and as he mechanically followed his friend, he had to stop at
the door to cast another longing lingering look back upon the singer
and guitarist and abbot. Edward's proposal easily admitted of being
carried into execution. They crossed the street diagonally, and very
soon a flask exactly like those in the picture stood before them in
Sala Tarone's[2] little blue room. "It seems to me," said Edward, as
Theodore still continued very silent and thoughtful, even after several
glasses had been drunk, "it seems to me that the picture has made a
deeper impression upon you than upon me, and not such an agreeable
impression either." "I assure you," replied Theodore, "that I lost
nothing of the brightness and grace of that animated composition; yet
it is very singular,--it is a faithful representation of a scene out of
my own life, reproducing