Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol IV. No. XX. January, 1852.Various
History
Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol IV. No. XX. January, 1852.
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; Civilization -- Periodicals; Culture -- Periodicals
"Uncommon!" said the German. "It's as common as cherries in the Black
Forest. It's as common as maccaroni at Naples. And Naples reminds me!
When the old Marchesa Senzanima shrieks at a card party on the
Chiaja--as I heard and saw her, for it happened in a Bavarian family of
mine, and I was overlooking the service that evening--I say, when the
old Marchesa starts up at the card-table, white through her rouge, and
cries, 'My sister in Spain is dead! I felt her cold touch on my
back!'--and when that sister _is_ dead at the moment--what do you call
that?"
"Or when the blood of San Gennaro liquefies at the request of the
clergy--as all the world knows that it does regularly once a year, in my
native city," said the Neapolitan courier, after a pause, with a comical
look, "what do you call that?"
"_That!_" cried the German. "Well! I think I know a name for that."
"Miracle?" said the Neapolitan, with the same sly face.
The German merely smoked and laughed; and they all smoked and laughed.
"Bah!" said the German, presently. "I speak of things that really do
happen. When I want to see the conjurer, I pay to see a professed one,
and have my money's worth. Very strange things do happen without ghosts.
Ghosts! Giovanni Baptista, tell your story of the English bride. There's
no ghost in that, but something full as strange. Will any man tell me
what?"
As there was a silence among them, I glanced around. He whom I took to
be Baptista was lighting a fresh cigar. He presently went on to speak.
He was a Genoese, as I judged.
"The story of the English bride?" said he. "Basta! one ought not to call
so slight a thing a story. Well, it's all one. But it's true. Observe me
well, gentlemen, it's true. That which glitters is not always gold; but
what I am going to tell is true."
He repeated this more than once.
Ten years ago, I took my credentials to an English gentleman at Long's
Hotel, in Bond-street, London, who was about to travel--it might be for
one year, it might be for two. He approved of them; likewise of me. He
was pleased to make inquiry. The testimony that he received was
favorable. He engaged me by the six months, and my entertainment was
generous.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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