mons which covered a portion of
the old reddish-yellow wall. The osteria was a deep vault, almost
like a hollow in the ruins; within, a lamp burned before the image of
the Madonna; a large fire flamed on the hearth, for here they roasted,
cooked and prepared the dishes for the guests. Without, under the
lemon and laurel trees, stood tables ready set.

They were received merrily and rejoicingly by their friends; they ate
little and drank much and became gay; they sang, and played on the
guitar; the Saltarello sounded and the dance began. Two Roman girls,
models of the young artists, joined in the dance and merriment; two
pretty Bacchante! They had no Psyche forms, they were not delicate
beautiful roses, but fresh, healthy flaming pinks.

How warm it was on this day, even warm at sundown! Fire in the blood,
fire in the air, fire in every glance. The air swam in gold and
roses, life was gold and roses.

"Now you have at last joined us! Allow yourself to be carried away by
the current within and without you!"

"I never felt so well and joyous before!" said the young artist. "You
are right, you are all of you right. I was a fool, a dreamer; man
belongs to reality and not to fancy!"

The young man left the osteria, in the clear starry evening, with song
and tinkling guitars, and passed through the narrow streets. The
daughters of the Campagna, the two flaming pinks, were in their train.

In Angelo's room, the voices sounded more suppressed but not less
fiery, amongst the scattered sketches, the outlines, the glowing,
voluptuous paintings; amongst the drawings on the floor there was many
a sketch of vigorous beauty, like unto the daughters of the Campagna,
yet they themselves were much more beautiful. The six-armed lamp
glowed brightly, and the human forms warmed and shone like gods.

"Apollo! Jupiter! I elevate myself to your heaven, to your glory!
Methinks, that the flower of my life has unfolded within my heart!"
Yes, it did unfold--it withered and fell to pieces; a stunning,
loathsome vapour arose, dazzling the sight, benumbing the thoughts,
extinguishing his sensual, fiery emotions, and all was dark. He went
home, sat down on his bed, and thought. "Fie!" sounded from his lips,
from the bottom of his heart. "Miserable wretch! away! away!"--and he
sighed sorrowfully.

"Away! Away!" These, her words, the words of the living Psyche,
weighed upon him, and flowed from his lips. He bowed his head upon
the pillows, his