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Updated: May 5, 2025
He put out his strong arm to help her to the land. "Am I, Gaspare? Yes, I suppose I am you ought all to be in bed." "I should not go to bed while you were out, Signora." Again she linked Gaspare with her memory, saw the nomad not quite alone on the journey. "I know." "Have you been to Naples, Signora?" "No only to " "To Mergellina?" He interrupted her almost sharply.
They all stared at Hermione, suddenly forgetting their personal and private affairs. "Donna Maddalena," said Fabiano, "here is a signora who knows Ruffo. I met her at the Mergellina, and she asked me to show her the way here." "Ruffo is out," said Maddalena, always keeping her eyes on Hermione. "May I come in and speak to you?" asked Hermione. Maddalena looked doubtful, yet curious.
When he had occasion to speak, his Italian was fluent and to the point; he conducted himself as one to whom travel and intercourse with every variety of men were life-long habits. His business conducted him to the Mergellina, to the house of Mrs. Gluck, where he inquired for Mrs. Denyer. He was led upstairs, and into the room where sit Mrs. Denyer and her daughters.
Again his whole face laughed, as, nimbly, he brought his legs from the water and stood beside her. "Birbante, Signorina?" "Yes. Are you from Naples?" "I come from Mergellina, Signorina." Vere looked at him half-doubtfully, but still with innocent admiration. There was something perfectly fearless and capable about him that attracted her. He rowed in to shore. "How old are you?" she asked.
A woman's heart is tenacious, and wide as the world, when it contains that world which is the memory of something perfect that gave it satisfaction. "Mi destan le dolcissime serate Gli occhi do Rosa e il mar di Mergellina." Dear happy, lovable youth that can sing to itself like that in the deep night! Like that once Maurice, her sacred possession of youth, sang.
She was recalled by hearing a very faint voice singing, scarcely more than humming, beneath her. "Oh, dolce luna bianca de l' Estate Mi fugge il sonno accanto a la marina: Mi destan le dolcissime serate Gli occhi di Rosa e il mar di Mergellina." It was the same song that Artois had heard that day as he leaned on the balcony of the Ristorante della Stella.
"I know." "And you never called me, Madre!" Vere looked openly hurt. "Why didn't you?" In truth, Hermione hardly knew. Surely it had been Emile who had led them away from the singing voice of Ruffo. "Ruffo was singing." "A song about Mergellina. Did you hear it? I do like it and the way he sings it." The annoyance had gone from her face at the thought of the song.
"Yes, I shall be able to work here," said Elgar within himself. "December, January, February; I can be ready with something for the spring." Clifford Marsh left Pompeii on the same day as his two chance acquaintances; he returned to his quarters on the Mergellina, much perturbed in mind, beset with many doubts, with divers temptations. "Shall I the spigot wield?"
The "Valse Bleu," "Santa Lucia," "Addio, mia bella Napoli," "La Frangese," "Sole Mio," "Marechiaro," "Carolina," "La Ciociara"; with the chain of lights the chain of songs was woven round the bay; from the Eldorado, past the Hotel de Vesuve, the Hotel Royal, the Victoria, to the tree-shaded alleys of the Villa Nazionale, to the Mergellina, where the naked urchins of the fisherfolk took their evening bath among the resting boats, to the "Scoglio di Frisio," and upwards to the Ristorante della Stella, and downwards again to the Ristorante del Mare, and so away to the point, to the Antico Giuseppone.
Presently Vere spoke again. "Would you like me to come with you to Mergellina, Madre?" she said. Her voice was rather uneven, almost trembling. "Oh no, Vere!" Hermione spoke hastily, abruptly, strongly conscious of the impossibility of taking Vere with her. Directly she had said the words she realized that they must have fallen on Vere like a blow.
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