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"Fezzen è similmente una grande abitazione, nella quale sono di grossi castelli e di gran casali, tutti abitati da un ricco popolo si di possessioni, como di danari; perciocchè sono ne' confini di Agadez e del diserto di Libia che confina con lo Egitto; ed è discosto dal Cairo circa a sessanta giornate; nè pel diserto altra abitazione si truova, che Augela che' é nel diserto di Libia.
Having arranged my room to my satisfaction I gave myself up to the intoxication of despair. I probed my heart to the bottom in order to sound its depths. A Tyrolean song that my mistress used to sing began to run through my head: Altra volta gieri biele, Blanch 'e rossa com' un flore; Ma ora no. Non son piu biele, Consumatis dal' amore.*
What had I done with all that? It seemed to me that a strange voice repeated an old romance that I had long since forgotten: Altra volta gieri biele, Blanch' e rossa com' un flore, Ma ora no. Non son piu biele Consumatis dal' amore. My sorrow was too great; I sprang to my feet and once more began to walk the floor.
I betook myself to Guy's hotel, which had been recommended to me as quiet and comfortable: for many people it would have been too quiet. The black waiters carried the science of "taking things easy" to a rare perfection; they were thoroughly polite, and even kindly in manner, and never dreamed of objecting to any practicable order, but as for carrying it out within any specified time altra cosa.
It was about 1710 that the word encore was introduced at the operatic performances in the Haymarket, and very much objected to by plain-going Englishmen. It was also the custom of some who desired the repetition of a song to cry Altra volta! Altra volta! Even indirectly the history of the stage illustrates life, and affords many unexpected lights on historical characters.
"Null' altra pianta che facesse fronda O che 'n durasse, vi puote aver vita."* * "Purgatorio," i. 108, 109.
Having arranged my room to my satisfaction, I gave myself up to the intoxication of despair. I probed my heart to the bottom in order to sound its depths. A Tyrolean song that my loved one used to sing began to run through my head: Altra volta gieri biele, Blanch' a rossa com' un flore, Ma ora no. Non son piu biele Consumatis dal' amore.
"Erano gli anni della fruttifera Incarnazione del Figliuolo di Dio al numero pervenuti di mille trecento quarant'otto, quando nell' egregia citta di Fiorenza oltre ad ogni altra Italica bellissima, pervenna la mortifera pestilenza." Boccaccio, "Introduzione al Decamerone".
What had I done with all that? It seemed to me that a strange voice repeated an old romance that I had long since forgotten: Altra volta gieri biele, Blanch' e rossa com' un flore, Ma ora no. Non son piu biele Consumatis dal' amore. My sorrow was too great; I sprang to my feet and once more began to walk the floor.
'Per la lingua Italiana, sono sicuro ch'ella n'e adesso professore, a segno tale ch'io non ardisca dirle altra cosa in quela lingua se non. Addio'. LONDON, April 26, O. S. 1756. MY DEAR FRIEND: As your journey to Paris approaches, and as that period will, one way or another, be of infinite consequence to you, my letters will henceforward be principally calculated for that meridian.
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