Such　were　the　awful　images；　the　sick　dreams；　which　fear　marshaled　before　my　imagination。　　Yes；　fear〃fecund　Fear；〃　as　the　poet　says　gave　birth　to　these　monstrosities　in　my　brain。　　ForI　may　as　well　make　the　confession　in　these　private　pagesI　am　afraid　of　my　housekeeper。　　I　am　aware　that　she　knows　I　am　weak；　and　this　fact　alone　is　sufficient　to　dispel　all　my　courage　in　any　contest　with　her。　Contests　are　of　frequent　occurrence；　and　I　invariably　succumb。
  But　for　all　that；　I　had　to　announce　my　departure　to　Therese。　　She　came　into　the　library　with　an　armful　of　wood　to　make　a　little　fire　〃une　flambe；〃　she　said。　　For　the　mornings　are　chilly。　　I　watched　her　out　of　the　corner　of　my　eye　while　she　crouched　down　at　the　hearth；　with　her　head　in　the　opening　of　the　fireplace。　　I　do　not　know　how　I　then　found　the　courage　to　speak；　but　I　did　so　without　much　hesitation。　　I　got　up；　and；　walking　up　and　down　the　room；　observed　in　a　careless　tone；　with　that　swaggering　manner　characteristic　of　cowards；
  〃By　the　way；　Therese；　I　am　going　to　Sicily。〃
  Having　thus　spoken；　I　awaited　the　consequence　with　great　anxiety。　Therese　did　not　reply。　　Her　head　and　her　vast　cap　remained　buried　in　the　fireplace；　and　nothing　in　her　person；　which　I　closely　watched；　betrayed　the　least　emotion。　　She　poked　some　paper　under　the　wood；　and　blew　up　the　fire。　　That　was　all！
  Finally　I　saw　her　face　again；it　was　calmso　calm　that　it　made　me　vexed。　　〃Surely；〃　I　thought　to　myself；　〃this　old　maid　has　no　heart。　She　lets　me　go　away　without　saying　so　much　as　AH！　　Can　the　absence　of　her　old　master　really　affect　her　so　little？〃
  〃Well；　then　go；　Monsieur；〃　she　answered　at　last；　〃only　be　back　here　by　six　o'clock！　　There　is　a　dish　for　dinner　to…day　which　will　not　wait　for　anybody。〃
  Naples；　November　10；　1859。
  〃Co　tra　calle　vive；　magna；　e　lave　a　faccia。〃
  I　understand；　my　friendfor　three　centimes　I　can　eat；　drink；　and　wash　my　face；　all　by　means　of　one　of　those　slices　of　watermelon　you　display　there　on　a　little　table。　　But　Occidental　prejudices　would　prevent　me　from　enjoying　that　simple　pleasure　freely　and　frankly。　　And　how　could　I　suck　a　watermelon？　　I　have　enough　to　do　mereley　to　keep　on　my　feet　in　this　crowd。　　What　a　luminous；　noisy　night　in　the　Strada　di　Porto！　　Mountains　of　fruit　tower　up　in　the　shops；　illuminated　by　multicoloured　lanterns。　　Upon　charcoal　furnaces　lighted　in　the　open　air　water　boils　and　steams；　and　ragouts　are　singing　in　frying…pans。　　The　smell　of　fried　fish　and　hot　meats　tickles　my　nose　and　makes　me　sneeze。　　At　this　moment　I　find　that　my　handkerchief　has　left　the　pocket　of　my　frock…coat。　　I　am　pushed；　lifted　up；　and　turned　about　in　every　direction　by　the　gayest；　the　most　talkative；　the　most　animated　and　the　most　adroit　populace　possible　to　imagine；　　and　suddenly　a　young　woman　of　the　people；　while　I　am　admiring　her　magnificent　hair；　with　a　single　shock　of　her　powerful　elastic　shoulder；　pushes　me　staggering　three　paces　back　at　least；　without　injury；　into　the　arms　of　a　maccaroni…eater；　who　receives　me　with　a　smile。
  I　am　in　Naples。　　How　I　ever　managed　to　arrive　here；　with　a　few　mutilated　and　shapeless　remains　of　baggage；　I　cannot　tell；　because　I　am　no　longer　myself。　　I　have　been　travelling　in　a　condition　of　perpetual　fright；　and　I　think　that　I　must　have　looked　awhile　ago　in　this　bright　city　like　an　owl　bewildered　by　sunshine。　　To…night　it　is　much　worse！　　Wishing　to　obtain　a　glimpse　of　popular　manners；　I　went　to　the　Strada　di　Porto；　where　I　now　am。　　All　about　me　animated　throngs　of　people　crowd　and　press　before　the　eating…places；　and　I　float　like　a　waif　among　these　living　surges；　which；　even　while　they　submerge　you；　still　caress。　　For　this　Neopolitan　people　has；　in　its　very　vivacity；　something　indescribably　gentle　and　polite。　　I　am　not　roughly　jostled；　I　am　merely　swayed　about；　and　I　think　that　by　dint　of　thus　rocking　me　to　and　fro；　these　good　folks　want　to　lull　me　asleep　on　my　feet。　　I　admire；　as　I　tread　the　lava　pavements　of　the　strada；　those　porters　and　fishermen　who　move　by　me　chatting；　singing；　smoking；　gesticulating；　quarrelling；　and　embracing　each　other　the　next　moment　with　astonishing　versatility　of　mood。　　They　live　through　all　their　sense　at　the　same　time；　and；　being　philosophers　without　knowing　it；　keep　the　measure　of　their　desires　in　accordance　with　the　brevity　of　life。　　I　approach　a　much…patronised　tavern；　and　see　inscribed　above　the　entrance　this　quatrain　in　Neopolitan　patois：
  〃Amice；　alliegre　magnammo　e　bevimmo　　　　　　　　　　　　　N　fin　che　n'ce　stace　noglio　a　la　lucerna：　　　　　　　　　　　　　Chi　sa　s'a　l'autro　munno　n'ce　verdimmo？　　　　　　　　　　　　　Chi　sa　s'a　l'autro　munno　n'ce　taverna？〃　　　　　　　　　　＇〃Friends；　let　us　merrily　eat　and　drink　　　　　　　　　　　　as　long　as　oil　remains　in　the　lamp：　　　　　　　　　　　　Who　knows　if　we　shall　meet　again　in　another　world？　　　　　　　　　　　　Who　knows　if　in　the　other　world　there　will　be　a　tavern？〃＇
  Even　such　counsels　was　Horace　wont　to　give　to　his　friends。　　You　received　them；　Posthumus；　you　heard　them　also；　Leuconoe；　perverse　beauty　who　wished　to　know　the　secrets　of　the　future。　　That　future　is　now　the　past；　and　we　know　it　well。　　Of　a　truth　you　were　foolish　to　worry　yourselves　about　so　small　a　matter；　and　your　friend　showed　his　good　sense　when　he　told　you　to　take　life　wisely　and　to　filter　your　Greek　wines〃Sapias；　vina　liques。〃　　Even　thus　the　sight　of　a　fair　land　under　a　spotless　sky　urges　to　the　pursuit　of　quiet　pleasures。　　but　there　are　souls　for　ever　harassed　by　some　sublime　discontent；　those　are　the　noblest。　　You　were　of　such；　Leuconoe；　and　I；　visiting　for　the　first　time；　in　my　declining　years；　that　city　where　your　beauty　was　famed　of　old；　I　salute　with　deep　respect　your　melancholy　memory。　　Those　souls　of　kin　to　your　own　who　appeared　in　the　age　of　Chrisitianity　were　souls　of　saints；　and　the　〃Golden　Legend〃　is　full　of　the　miracles　they　wrought。　　Your　friend　Horace　left　a　less　noble　posterity；　and　I　see　one　of　his　descendants　in　the　person　of　that　tavern　poet；　who　at　this　moment　is　serving　out　wine　in　cups　under　the　epicurean　motto　of　his　sign。
  And　yet　life　decides　in　favour　of　friend　Flaccus；　and　his　philosophy　is　the　only　one　which　adapts　itself　to　the　course　of　events。　　There　is　a　fellow　leaning　against　that　trellis…work　covered　with　vine…　leaves；　and　eating　an　ice；　while　watching　the　stars。　　He　would　not　stoop　even　to　pick　up　the　old　manuscript　I　am　going　to　seek　with　so　much　trouble　and　fatigue。　　And　in　truth　man　is　made　rather　to　eat　ices　than　to　pore　over　old　texts。
  I　continued　to　wander　about　among　the　drinkers　and　the　singers。　　There　were　lovers　biting　into　beautiful　fruit；　each　with　an　arm　about　the　other's　waist。　　Man　must　be　naturally　bad；　for　all　this　strange　joy　only　evoked　in　me　a　feeling　of　uttermost　despondency。　That　thronging　populace　displayed　such　artless　delight　in　the　simple　act　of　living；　that　all　the　shynesses　begotten　by　my　old　habits　as　an　author　awoke　and　intensified　into　something　like　fright。　Furthermore；　I　found　myself　much　discouraged　by　my　inability　to　understand　a　word　of　all　the　storm　of　chatter　about　me。　　It　was　a　humiliating　experience　for　a　philologist。　　Thus　I　had　begun　to　feel　quite　sulky；　when　I　was　startled　to　hear　someone　behind　me　observe：
  〃Dimitri；　that　old　man　is　certainly　a　Frenchman。　　He　looks　so　bewildered　that　I　really　fell　sorry　for　him。　　Shall　I　speak　to　him？　。。。He　has　such　a　goo…natured　look；　with　that　round　back　of　hisdo　you　not　think　so；　Dimitri？〃
  It　was　said　in　French　by　a　woman's　voice。　　For　the　moment　it　was　disagreeable　to　hear　myself　spoken　of　as　an　old　man。　　Is　a　man　old　at　sixty…two？　　Only　the　other　day；　on　the　Pont　des　Arts；　my　colleague　Perrot　d'Avrignac　complimented　me　on　my　youthful　appearance；　and　I　should　think　him　a　better　authority　about　one's　age　than　that　young　chatterbox　who　has　taken　it　on　herself　to　make　remarks　about　my　back。　　My　back　is　round；　she　says。　　Ah！　ah！　　I　had　some　suspicion　myself　to　that　effect；　but　I　am　not　going　now　to　believe　it　at　all；　since　it　is　the　opinion　of　a　giddy…headed　young　woman。　　Certainly　I　will　not　turn　my　head　round　to　see　who　it　was　that　spoke；　but　I　am　sure　it　was　a　pretty　woman。　　Why？　　Because　she　talks　like　a　capricious　person　and　like　a　spoiled　child。　　Ugly　women　may　be　naturally　quite　as　capricious　as　pretty　ones；　but　as　they　are　never　petted　and　spoiled；　and　as　no　allowances　are　made　for　them；　they　soon　find　themselves　obliged　either　to　suppress　their　whims　or　to　hide　them。　　On　the　other　hand；　the　pretty　women　can　be　just　as　fantastical　as　they　please。　　My　neighbour　is　evidently　one　of　the　latter。。。。　　　But；　after　all；　coming　to　think　it　over；　she　really　did　nothing　worse　than　to　express；　in　her　own　way；　a　kindly　thought　about　me；　for　which　I　ought　to　feel　grateful。
  These　reflectionsinclude　the　last　and　decisive　onepassed　through　my　mind　in　less　than　a　second；　and　if　I　have　taken　a　whole　minute　to　tell　them；　it　is　characteristic　of　most　philologists。　　In　less　than　a　second；　therefore；　after　the　voice　had　ceased；　I　did　turn　round；　and　saw　a　pretty　little　womana　sprightly　brunette。
  〃Madame；〃　I　said；　with　a　bow；　〃excuse　my　involuntary　indiscretion。　I　could　not　help　overhearing　what　you　have　just　said。　　You　would　like　to　be　of　service　to　a　poor　old　man。　　And　the　wish；　Madame；　has　already　been　fulfilledthe　mere　so