No idea of approaching death seems to have entered his mind; and the priest, who came to offer the usual offices of the catholic religion to the dying, was sent away with an invitation to return on the morrow; whether because he believed that by that time he should be beyond such interference, or as a mere excuse for delay, cannot be told. As he grew weaker, he sent for the countess, and when she came he stretched out his hand, saying "Stringetemi la mano, cara amica; mi sento morire." "Press my hand, dear friend; I am dying." These were his last words. He died on the 8th of October, 1803, at the age of fifty-five. He was buried in Santa Croce, and the countess of Albany erected a tomb to his memory, sculptured by Canova. It is not one of his happiest efforts; but the inscription, which has been called pretending, appears to me simple and affectionate. "Louisa de Stolberg, countess of Albany, to Vittorio Alfieri," is surely no impertinent obtrusion of the name of his dearest friend; and it may be remarked, that, while the countess has been censured for recording her name so prominently. Alfieri, in the epitaph he himself composed for her, makes it her chief praise that she was "quam unice dilexit,"--the only love of the poet. This account of the life of a man who was endowed with the chief attribute of genius,--that of spontaneously forming and manifesting itself, despite every obstacle or adverse circumstance,--may be concluded by the quotation of the sonnet in which he describes his own person; a faithful translation of which, which we also append, appeared, some years ago, in "The Liberal." It may be quoted with the more propriety at the end of his life, since it was written when time had robbed him of the graces of youth; giving instead those characteristic marks stamped by the action of his disposition and pursuits. "Sublime specchio di veraci detti Mostrami in corpo e in anima qual sono. Capelli or radi in fronte, e rossi pretti; Lunga statura e capo a terra prono; Sottil persona su due stinchi schietti; Bianca pelle, occhi azzurri, aspetto buono, Giusto naso, bel labbro, e denti eletti, Pallido in volto più che un re sul trono. "Or duro, acerbo, ora pieghevol mite. Irato sempre e non maligno mai, La mente e il cor meco in perpetua lite, Per lo più mesto, e tal or lieto assai, Or stimandomi Achille, ed or Tersite; Uom, se' tu grande o vii? Muori, e il saprai."[51] [Footnote 51: "Thou lofty mirror, Truth, let me be shown Such as I am, in body and in mind. Hair plainly red, retreating now behind; A stature tall, a stooping head and prone; A meagre body on two stilts of bone; Fair skin, blue eyes, good look, nose well design'd; A handsome mouth, teeth that are rare to find, And pale in face, more than a king on throne.