We are going to get outside Florence for a week or ten days; it is too
hot to be borne at night after a day of tiring activity. So we go to the
D----s' villa, which they offered us in their absence; it lies about
four miles out, and is on much higher ground: address only your very
immediately next letter there, or it may miss me.
There are hills out there with vineyards among them which draw me into
wishing to be away from towns altogether. Much as I love what is to be
found in this one, I think Heaven meant me to be "truly rural"; which
all falls in, dearest, with what _I_ mean to be! Beloved, how little I
sometimes can say to you! Sometimes my heart can put only silence into
the end of a letter; and with that I let this one go.--Yours, and so
lovingly.
LETTER XXXIII.
Beloved: I had your last letter on Friday: all your letters have come in
their right numbers. I have lost count of mine; but I think seven and two
postcards is the total, which is the same as the numbers of clean and
unclean beasts proportionately represented in the ark.
Up here we are out of the deadliness of the heat, and are thankful for it.
Vineyards and olives brush the eyes between the hard, upright bars of the
cypresses: and Florence below is like a hot bath which we dip into and
come out again. At the Riccardi chapel I found Benozzo Gozzoli, not in
crumbs, but perfectly preserved: a procession of early Florentine youths,
turning into angels when they get to the bay of the window where the altar
once stood. The more I see of them, the greater these early men seem to
me: I shall be afraid to go to Venice soon; Titian will only half satisfy
me, and Tintoretto, I know, will be actively annoying: I shall stay in my
gondola, as your American lady did on her donkey after riding twenty
miles to visit the ruins, of--Carnac, was it not? It is well to have the
courage of one's likings and dislikings, that is the only true culture
(the state obtained by use of a "coulter" or cutter)--I cut many things
severely which, no doubt, are good for other people.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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