The winter passed swift as a dream, though not without anxieties. Roman fever was then the bane of American travellers, and while she herself suffered only from a slight indisposition, Maud was seriously ill. There was no time for her Journal, but some of the impressions of that memorable season are recorded in verse. Sea, sky, and moon-crowned mountain, one fair world, Past, Present, Future, one Eternity. Divine and human and informing soul, The mystic Trine thought never can resolve. One of the great pleasures of this Roman visit was the presence of her nephew Francis Marion Crawford. He was then twenty-three years old, and extremely handsome; some people thought him like the famous bas-relief of Antinous at the Villa Albano. The most genial and companionable of men, he devoted himself to his aunt and was her guide to the _trattoria_ where Goethe used to dine, to Tasso's Oak, to the innumerable haunts dedicated to the poets of every age, who have left their impress on the Eternal City. Our mother always loved acting. Her nearest approach to a professional appearance took place this winter. Madame Ristori was in Rome, and had promised to read at an entertainment in aid of some charity. She chose for her selection the scene from "Maria Stuart" where the unhappy Queen of Scots meets Elizabeth and after a fierce altercation triumphs over her. At the last moment the lady who was to impersonate Elizabeth fell ill. What was to be done? Some one suggested, "Mrs. Howe!" The "Reminiscences" tell how she was "pressed into the service," and how the last rehearsal was held while the musical part of the entertainment was going on. "Madame Ristori made me repeat my part several times, insisting that my manner was too reserved and would make hers appear extravagant. I did my best to conform to her wishes, and the reading was duly applauded."[84] [84] _Reminiscences_, p. 425. Another performance was arranged in which Madame Ristori gave the sleep-walking scene from "Macbeth." The question arose as to who should take the part of the attendant. "Why not your sister?" said Ristori to Mrs. Terry. "No one could do it better!" In the spring, the travellers made a short tour in southern Italy. One memory of it is given in the following verses:-- NEAR AMALFI Hurry, hurry, little town, With thy labor up and down. Clang the forge and roll the wheels, Spring the shuttle, twirl the reels. Hunger comes. Every woman with her hand Shares the labor of the land; Every child the burthen bears, And the soil of labor wears. Hunger comes. In the shops of wine and oil For the scanty house of toil; Give just measure, housewife grave, Thrifty shouldst thou be, and brave. Hunger comes. Only here the blind man lags, Here the cripple, clothed with rags. Such a motley Lazarus Shakes his piteous cap at us. Hunger comes.