CHAPTER X.
She was seated outside her door — the young actress! The sea before her in that heavenly hay seemed literally to sleep in the arms of the shore; while, to the right, not far off, rose the dark and tangled crags to which the traveller of to-day is duly brought to gaze on the tomb of Virgil, or compare with the cavern of Posilipo the archway of Highgate Hill. There were a few fishermen loitering by the cliffs, on which their nets were hung to dry; and at a distance the sound of some rustic pipe (more common at that day than at this), mingled now and then with the bells of the lazy mules, broke the voluptuous silence — the silence of declining noon on the shores of Naples; — never, till you have enjoyed it — never, till you have felt its enervating but delicious charm, believe that you can comprehend all the meaning of the Dolce far niente;[2] and when that luxury has been known, when you have breathed that atmosphere of faery-land, then you will
