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Updated: June 18, 2025
Unable to stand on his legs, what could he hope to do there? Olevano I have loafed into Olevano. A thousand feet below my window, and far away, lies the gap between the Alban and Volscian hills; veiled in mists, the Pontine marches extend beyond, and further still discernible only to the eye of faith the Tyrrhenian. The profile of these Alban craters is of inimitable grace.
One is pained to see decent folk suffering for a cause they fail to understand, for something that happens beyond their ken, something dim and distant unintelligible to them as that Libyan expedition. None the less, he tells me, there is not a single deserter in Olevano. An old warrior-brood, these men of Latium....
Calm, sunny days at Olevano. And tranquil nights, for some time past. The nightingale has been inspired to move a little up country, into another bush. Its rivals have likewise retired further off, and their melodramatic trills sound quite pleasant at this distance. So tin cans have their uses, even when empty. Certain building operations may have been interrupted.
In the company of one who knows, I perambulated the cemetery of Olevano and was astonished at the frequency of tombstones erected to the young. "Consumption," my friend told me. They scorn prophylactics. I should not care to send growing children into these villages, despite their "fine air." Here, at Bellegra, the air must be fine indeed in winter; too fine for my taste.
Ravenna, in short, seems, as it were, to have been preserved all but untouched to keep up the memory of the days which were alike Roman, Christian, and Imperial. One of the excellent mountain roads constructed by Pius IX. leads through a wild district from Olevano to Subiaco.
It was cut short, for all rose, and all, save Dane and Giovanni, went out to the terrace. The Abbé Marinier proposed going to Santa Scolastica and the Sacro Speco on the morrow, returning perhaps to Rome by way of Olevano and Palestrina, that road being new to him. Could any one show him the way from the terrace? Don Clemente pointed out the road.
They come, singly and in batches, and soon make Olevano uninhabitable to men of the Potter and Browne type.
After an hour's contemplation of the beauties of nature I descended once more through that ilex grove to Serrone. And now it began to grow decidedly warm. The wide depression between this village and Olevano used to be timbered and is still known as la selva or la foresta. Vines now occupy the whole ground. If they had only left a few trees by the wayside!
A single night's repose is more precious to me than a myriad birds or quadrupeds or bipeds; my ideas on the sacred nature of sleep being perfectly Oriental. That Black Hole of Calcutta was an infamous business. And yet, while nowise approving the tyrant's action, I can thoroughly understand his instructions on the subject of slumber. Not every one at Olevano is so callous.
Doubtless he drank wine with them on that terrace overlooking the brown houses of Olevano, though I question whether he then paid as much as they are now charging me; doubtless he rejoiced to see that stately array of white lilies fronting the landscape, though I question whether he derived more pleasure from them than I do....
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