We All Seated
Ourselves Round The Viands, And Nothing Was Heard For A Time But The
Sound Of Vigorous Mastication, Or The Gurgling Of The Barrel Of Wine As
It Revolved Briskly About The Circle.
My long fasting and the mountain
air and exercise had given me a keen appetite, and never did repast
appear to me more excellent or picturesque.
From time to time one of the band was despatched to keep a look-out
upon the plain: no enemy was at hand, and the dinner was undisturbed.
The peasant received nearly twice the value of his provisions, and set
off down the mountain highly satisfied with his bargain. I felt
invigorated by the hearty meal I had made, and notwithstanding that the
wound I had received the evening before was painful, yet I could not
but feel extremely interested and gratified by the singular scenes
continually presented to me. Every thing seemed pictured about these
wild beings and their haunts. Their bivouacs, their groups on guard,
their indolent noon-tide repose on the mountain brow, their rude repast
on the herbage among rocks and trees, every thing presented a study for
a painter. But it was towards the approach of evening that I felt the
highest enthusiasm awakened.
The setting sun, declining beyond the vast Campagna, shed its rich
yellow beams on the woody summits of the Abruzzi. Several mountains
crowned with snow shone brilliantly in the distance, contrasting their
brightness with others, which, thrown into shade, assumed deep tints of
purple and violet.
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