e reverse of the picture: the French will be represented as "_gente
crudeli--tiranni--oppressori, senza fede_;" Giovanni di Procida, as a
hero and patriot, _a l'antique_, and the Sicilians as rising in defence
of their freedom and national honour. The other tragedy is to be
founded on the history of the famous _Congiura dei Baroni_ in the
reign of Ferdinand the First, as related by Giannone. The simple facts
of this history need not any ornaments, borrowed from invention or
poetry, to form a most interesting tale, and furnish ample materials
for a beautiful tragedy, in incident, characters, and situations. B**
is a little man, dwarfish and almost deformed in person; but full of
talent, spirit, and enthusiasm. I asked him why he did not immediately
finish these tragedies, which appeared from the sketches he had given
me, so admirably calculated to succeed. He replied, that under the
present regime, he dared not write up to his own conceptions; and if
he curbed his genius, he could do nothing; "Besides," added he
mournfully, "I have no time; I am poor--poverissimo! I must work hard
all to-day to supply the wants of to-morrow: I am always surveille by
the police, as a known liberal and _literato_." "_Davvero_," added he,
gaily, "I would soon do, or say, or write something to attract the
honour of their more particular notice, if I could be certain they
would only imprison me for a couple of years, and ensure me during
that time a blanket, bread and water, and the use of pen and ink: then
I would write! I would write! _dalla mattina alla sera_; and thank my
gaolers as my best friends: but pens are poignards, ink is poison in
the eyes of the present government; imprisonment for life, or
banishment, is the least I could expect. Now the mere idea of
imprisonment for life would kill me in a week, and banishment!--_Ah
lungi dalla mia bella Patria, come cantare! come scrivere! come
vivere! moriro io anzi nell' momento di partire!_"

* * * * *

I drove to-day, tete-a-tete with Laura, to the Lago d'Agnano, about a
mile and a half beyond Pausilippo. This lovely fair lake is not more
than two miles in circuit; and embosomed in romantic woody hills:
innumerable flocks of wild fowl were skimming over its surface, and
gave life and motion to the beautiful but quiet landscape. While we
were wandering here, enjoying the stillness and solitude, so
delightfully contrasted with the unceasing noise, bustle, and