gratified and won by an admission so flattering to his pride; and
condescended to request that Colonna would paint the portraits of his
bride and himself. The young painter bit his lip as he bowed his
acknowledgments; but expressed his high sense of the honour conferred,
and his conviction that the portraits, if successful, would powerfully
recommend him to the nobles of Venice, and prove a certain avenue to
fame and fortune. It was agreed that, on an early day, Colonna should
proceed with the requisite materials to the villa Foscari, and
commence the portrait of Laura; after which, the cavaliers mounted
their horses, and returned home.

To prevent a similar interruption on the succeeding day from any other
quarter, I agreed with Colonna to rise with the sun, and proceed over
the lake into the mountains, with provisions for the day. We met at
early dawn; and the birds were caroling their morning hymn, as, with
expanded sail, our bark bounded lightly across the lake. Ere long we
saw the god of day peeping with golden brow above the ridge of Monte
Baldo; then, majestically advancing over the mountains near Verona,
he poured a flood of bright and glowing beauty over the immense
landscape. The water was partially concealed by the vapours of
morning, and mists of purple hue floated like regal canopies above
the cliffs, while a light breeze, rippling the centre of the lake,
dispersed its tranquil slumber, and roused it into life and beauty.
The peninsula of Sirmio lay basking in sunny radiance before us; and
the mountains beyond displayed the grandeur of their immeasurable
outline, varied by prominent and rugged masses, which were piled up in
chaos like Ossa on Pelion. The eastern sky was robed in vapours of
rosy tint; light clouds of pearly lustre floated in tranquil beauty
through the heavens; and the Alpine eagles were careering in joyous
and sweeping circles amid the pure ether.

Certainly the lake of Garda displays a rare combination of the
beautiful and sublime. The shores abound in the wild and majestic,
in variety and beauty of local tints, and picturesque vicissitudes
of light and shade; while the olive-crowned Sirmio, like the
island-realm of a Calypso, reposes in regal pride upon the waters,
and seems to hold in vassalage the opposite shores and amphitheatre
of mountains.

There have been some days in my existence which will ever be dear to
my memory, and this was one of them. It was a cool and delicious
morn