-
-I wish you had said nothing worse of the Venus of Medicis, replied
I; - for in passing through Florence, I had heard he had fallen foul
upon the goddess, and used her worse than a common strumpet,
without the least provocation in nature.
I popp'd upon Smelfungus again at Turin, in his return home; and a
sad tale of sorrowful adventures had he to tell, "wherein he spoke
of moving accidents by flood and field, and of the cannibals that
each other eat: the Anthropophagi:" - he had been flayed alive, and
bedevil'd, and used worse than St. Bartholomew, at every stage he
had come at. -
- I'll tell it, cried Smelfungus, to the world. You had better
tell it, said I, to your physician.
Mundungus, with an immense fortune, made the whole tour; going on
from Rome to Naples, - from Naples to Venice, - from Venice to
Vienna, - to Dresden, to Berlin, without one generous connection or
pleasurable anecdote to tell of; but he had travell'd straight on,
looking neither to his right hand nor his left, lest Love or Pity
should seduce him out of his road.
Peace be to them! if it is to be found; but heaven itself, were it
possible to get there with such tempers, would want objects to give
it; every gentle spirit would come flying upon the wings of Love to
hail their arrival. - Nothing would the souls of Smelfungus and
Mundungus hear of, but fresh anthems of joy, fresh raptures of
love, and fresh congratulations of their common felicity.
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