Alexandria gazette. [volume] (Alexandria, D.C.) 1834-1974, 1860-03-20


author. His new work is called 1.-The Marble
Faun: or, the Romance of Monte Benz, ana
is an Italian inspiration. He says OF It, IN
genial and pleasant preface, that ne has
proposed to himself fanciiul story, and
not portraiture of Italian manners and
character. italy, as the site of his story,
was chiefly valuable to him as atfording
sort of poetic or fairy precinct, where actu-
ahties would not be so terribly insisted upon
as in America. The following Is an ex-
tract:
LEGEND OF THE FOUNTAIN.
So the Young Count narrated myth OF
one of his progenitors-he might have lived
n century age, or a thousand years or be-
fore the Christian epoch, for anything that
Donatello knew 10 the contrary-who had
made acquaintance with fair creature be-
longing to this fountain. Whether woman
or sprite was a mystery; as was all else
about her, except that her life and soul
were somehow interfused throughout the
gushing water. She was fresh, cool, dewy
thing, sunny and shadowy. full of pleasant
little mischiefs, ftful and changeable with
the whims of the moment, but yet as con-
slant as her native streams, which kept the
same gush and flow forever, while marble
crumbled over and around it. The fountain
woman loved the youth--a knight, as Don
ateilo called hinl--for, according to the le-
peud his race was akin to hers. AT least,
whether kin or no, there had been friend
ship and sympathy of old betwixt an ances-
tor of his, with furry ears, and the long-lived
lady at the fountain. And, after all those
ages, she was still as young as May morn
ing. and as frolicsome as a bird upon
tree, or q breeze that makes merry with the
leaves.
She taught him how to call her from her
pebbly source, and they spent many hap
py hour together, more especially in the Ter
vor of the summer days. For often as he
sat waiting for her by the margin OF the
spring, she would suddenly fall down around
him in shower of sunny rain-drops, with
q rainbow glancing through them, and forth
with gather herself up into the likeness OF 4
beautiful girl, laughng-or was it the war
bic ofthe rill over the pebbles!-to see the
Youths amazement Thus, kind maiden
that she was, the hot atmosphere became
deliciously cool and fragrant for this favor
ed knight; and furthermore, when he kneit
down to drink out of the spring, nothing
was more common than for a pair OF rosy
lips to come up out of its little depths and
touch his mouth with the thrill of sweet,
cool, dewy kiss,
1T is a delightful story for the hot noon
of your Tuscan summer" observed the
sculptor at this point But the deport-
ment of the water lady must have had a
most chilling influence i'll midwinter. Her
lover would find it, very literally, a cold re-
ception.
II suppose" said Donatello, rather sulkily
1'you are making fun of the story. But see
nothing laughable in the thing itself, nor in
what you say about 1T"
He went on to relate that for long while
the knight found infinite pleasure and COM
fort in the friendship of the fountain nymph.
In his merriest hours, she gladdened him with
her sportive humor If ever he was annoy
ed with earthly trouble, she laid her moist
hand upon his brow, and charmed the fret
and fever quite away.
But one day-one fatal noontide-the
young knight came rushing with hasty and
irregular steps to the accustomed fountain.
He called the nymph, but--no doubt be-
cause there was something unusual and
frightful in his tone-she did not appear,
nor answer him. He flung himself down,
and washed his hands and bathed his fever
ish brow in the cool, pure water. And then
there was sound of woe, it might have been
woman voice, it might have been only the
singing of the brook over the pebbles. The
water shrank away from the youths hands,
and left his brow as dry and ieverish as be-
FORE
Donatello here came to dead pause.
"Why did the water shrink from this I'M
happy knight" inquired the sculptor.
because he had tried TO wash off blood
STAIN" said the young Count, in y horror
stricken whisper. 1.-The guilty man had pol
luted the pure water. The nymph might
have comforted him in sorrow, but could not
cleanse his conscience of crime"
"And did he never behold her more" as
ked Kenyon.
"Never but once" replied his friend. "He
never beheld her blessed face but once again,
and then there was blood-stan upon the
poor nymph's brow, it was the stain his
guilt had left in the fountain where he tried
TO wash it off, He incurred for her his whole
life long, aud employed the best sculptor OF
the time to carve this statue of the nymph
from his description of her aspect. But
though my ancestor would fain have had the
ludSo Wchl tHC hdppiCSt ioch, tHU II t'op, uh
like yourself, was 80 impressed with the
mournfulness OF the story, that in spite of her
best efforts, he made her forlorn, and forever
weeping, as you see.'
Kenyon found certain charm in this SIM
pie legend. Whether so intended or not he
understood it as an apologize, IMPLYING the
soothing and genial effects of an habitual in
tercourse with nature, in all ordinary cares
and griefs, while on the other hand, her mild
influences fall short in their effect upon the
ruder passions, and are altogether powerless
In the dread fever fit or deadly chill of guilt.
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not a capitalist merely, having work put up for
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His prices vary from 1925 TO S700 according to
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Also Carharts patent Melodeons at factory pri-
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Ibeg leave to refer TO the following persons among
Others. to whom have sold the above instruments: