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     NEW

     ITALIAN SKETCHES.

     BY

     JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS,

     AUTHOR OF "SKETCHES IN ITALY," ETC.

     _COPYRIGHT EDITION._

     LEIPZIG

     BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ

     1884.

     _The Right of Translation is reserved._



PREFATORY NOTE.


This volume of New Italian Sketches has been made up from two books
published in England and America under the titles of "Sketches and
Studies in Italy" and "Italian Byways." It forms in some respects a
companion volume to my "Sketches in Italy" already published in the
Tauchnitz Collection of British Authors. But it is quite independent of
that other book, and is in no sense a continuation of it. In making the
selection, I have however followed the same principles of choice. That
is to say, I have included only those studies of places, rather than of
literature or history, which may suit the needs of travellers in Italy.

     JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS.

     DAVOS PLATZ, _Dec. 1883_.


     TO

     CHRISTIAN BUOL AND CHRISTIAN PALMY

     MY FRIENDS AND FELLOW-TRAVELLERS

     I DEDICATE THIS BOOK.



CONTENTS


                                          Page
     AUTUMN WANDERINGS                      11

     MONTE OLIVETO                          34

     MONTEPULCIANO                          57

     SPRING WANDERINGS                      84

     MAY IN UMBRIA                         106

     THE PALACE OF URBINO                  138

     A VENETIAN MEDLEY                     169

     THE GONDOLIER'S WEDDING               212

     FORNOVO                               238

     BERGAMO AND BARTOLOMMEO COLLEONI      261

     LOMBARD VIGNETTES                     282



     NEW ITALIAN SKETCHES.




     AUTUMN WANDERINGS.

     I.--ITALIAM PETIMUS.


_Italiam petimus!_ We left our upland home before daybreak on a clear
October morning. There had been a hard frost, spangling the meadows with
rime-crystals, which twinkled where the sun's rays touched them. Men and
women were mowing the frozen grass with thin short Alpine scythes; and
as the swathes fell, they gave a crisp, an almost tinkling sound. Down
into the gorge, surnamed of Avalanche, our horses plunged; and there we
lost the sunshine till we reached the Bear's Walk, opening upon the
vales of Albula, and Julier, and Schyn. But up above, shone morning
light upon fresh snow, and steep torrent-cloven <DW72>s reddening with a
hundred fading plants; now and then it caught the grey-green icicles
that hung from cliffs where summer streams had dripped. There is no
colour lovelier than the blue of an autumn sky in the high Alps,
defining ridges powdered with light snow, and melting imperceptibly
downward into the warm yellow of the larches and the crimson of the
bilberry. Wiesen was radiantly beautiful: those aerial ranges of the
hills that separate Albula from Julier soared crystal-clear above their
forests; and for a foreground, on the green fields starred with lilac
crocuses, careered a group of children on their sledges. Then came the
row of giant peaks--Pitz d'Aela, Tinzenhorn, and Michelhorn, above the
deep ravine of Albula--all seen across wide undulating golden swards,
close-shaven and awaiting winter. Carnations hung from cottage windows
in full bloom, casting sharp angular black shadows on white walls.

_Italiam petimus!_ We have climbed the valley of the Julier, following
its green, transparent torrent. A night has come and gone at Muehlen. The
stream still leads us up, diminishing in volume as we rise, up through
the fleecy mists that roll asunder for the sun, disclosing far-off snowy
ridges and blocks of granite mountains. The lifeless, soundless waste of
rock, where only thin winds whistle out of silence and fade suddenly
into still air, is passed. Then comes the descent, with its forests of
larch and cembra, golden and dark green upon a ground of grey, and in
