Fiddling or fighting—all in drunken joy!”— 420 “But is this Nature?” said the wondering Boy. “Be sure it is! and those Banditti there— } Observe the faces, forms, the eyes, the air; } See rage, revenge, remorse, disdain, despair!” } “And is that Nature, too?” the stripling cried.— “Corrupted Nature,” said the serious guide. She then displayed her knowledge.—“That, my dear, Is call’d a Titian, this a Guido here, And yon a Claude—you see that lovely light, So soft and solemn, neither day nor night.” 430 “Yes!” quoth the Boy, “and there is just the breeze, That curls the water, and that fans the trees; The ships that anchor in that pleasant bay All look so safe and quiet—Claude, you say?” On a small picture Peter gazed and stood In admiration—“’twas so dearly good.” “For how much money think you, then, my Lad, Is such a ‘dear good picture’ to be had? ’Tis a famed master’s work—a Gerard Dow, At least the seller told the buyer so.” 440 “I tell the price!” quoth Peter—“I as soon Could tell the price of pictures in the moon; But I have heard, when the great race was done, How much was offer’d for the horse that won.”— “A thousand pounds: but, look the country round, And, may be, ten such horses might be found; While, ride or run where’er you choose to go, You’ll nowhere find so fine a Gerard Dow.” “If this be true,” says Peter, “then, of course, You’d rate the picture higher than the horse.” 450 “Why, thou’rt a reasoner, Boy!” the lady cried; “But see that Infant on the other side; ’Tis by Sir Joshua. Did you ever see A Babe so charming?”—“No, indeed,” said he; “I wonder how he could that look invent, That seems so sly, and yet so innocent.” In this long room were various Statues seen, And Peter gazed thereon with awe-struck mien. “Why look so earnest, Boy?”—“Because they bring To me a story of an awful thing.”— 460 “Tell then thy story.”——He, who never stay’d For words or matter, instantly obey’d.— “A holy pilgrim to a city sail’d, Where every sin o’er sinful men prevail’d; Who, when he landed, look’d in every street, As he was wont, a busy crowd to meet; But now of living beings found he none; Death had been there, and turn’d them all to stone. All in an instant, as they were employ’d, Was life in every living man destroy’d— 470 The rich, the poor, the timid, and the bold, Made in a moment such as we behold.” “Come, my good lad, you’ve yet a room to see. Are you awake?”—“I am amazed,” said he; I know they’re figures form’d by human skill, But ’tis so awful, and this place so still! “And what is this?” said Peter, who had seen A long wide table, with its cloth of green, Its net-work pockets, and its studs of gold— For such they seem’d, and precious to behold. 480 There too were ivory balls, and one was red,