d from the young men's minds,
so much were they occupied by the gay and glittering procession they now
beheld. As for the Count of Monte Cristo, he had never for an instant
shown any appearance of having been moved. Imagine the large and
splendid Corso, bordered from one end to the other with lofty palaces,
with their balconies hung with carpets, and their windows with flags. At
these balconies are three hundred thousand spectators--Romans, Italians,
strangers from all parts of the world, the united aristocracy of birth,
wealth, and genius. Lovely women, yielding to the influence of the
scene, bend over their balconies, or lean from their windows, and shower
down confetti, which are returned by bouquets; the air seems darkened
with the falling confetti and flying flowers. In the streets the lively
crowd is dressed in the most fantastic costumes--gigantic cabbages walk
gravely about, buffaloes' heads bellow from men's shoulders, dogs walk
on their hind legs; in the midst of all this a mask is lifted, and, as
in Callot's Temptation of St. Anthony, a lovely face is exhibited,
which we would fain follow, but from which we are separated by troops
of fiends. This will give a faint idea of the Carnival at Rome. At the
second turn, the count stopped the carriage, and requested permission to
withdraw, leaving the vehicle at their disposal. Franz looked up--they
were opposite the Rospoli Palace. At the centre window, the one hung
with white damask with a red cross, was a blue domino, beneath
which Franz's imagination easily pictured the beautiful Greek of the
Argentina. "Gentlemen," said the count, springing out, "when you are
tired of being actors, and wish to become spectators of this scene,
you know you have places at my windows. In the meantime, dispose of my
coachman, my carriage, and my servants." We have forgotten to mention,
that the count's coachman was attired in a bear-skin, exactly resembling
Odry's in "The Bear and the Pasha;" and the two footmen behind were
dressed up as green monkeys, with spring masks, with which they made
grimaces at every one who passed. Franz thanked the count for his
attention. As for Albert, he was busily occupied throwing bouquets at a
carriage full of Roman peasants that was passing near him. Unfortunately
for him, the line of carriages moved on again, and while he descended
the Piazza del Popolo, the other ascended towards the Palazzo di
Venezia. "Ah, my dear fellow," said he to Franz; "you