s the heath to church: the
black-gowned women with their white head-dresses looked like ghosts
that had stepped forth from the church pictures. All around lay a wide
dead plain, covered with faded brown heath, and black charred spaces
between the white sand hills. The women carried hymn books, and walked
into the church. Oh, pray, pray for those who are wandering to find
graves beyond the foaming billows."

[Illustration: PULCINELLA ON COLUMBINE'S GRAVE.]

FIFTEENTH EVENING.

"I know a Pulcinella,"[3] the Moon told me. "The public applaud
vociferously directly they see him. Every one of his movements is
comic, and is sure to throw the house into convulsions of laughter;
and yet there is no art in it all--it is complete nature. When he was
yet a little boy, playing about with other boys, he was already
Punch. Nature had intended him for it, and had provided him with a
hump on his back, and another on his breast; but his inward man, his
mind, on the contrary, was richly furnished. No one could surpass him
in depth of feeling or in readiness of intellect. The theatre was his
ideal world. If he had possessed a slender well-shaped figure, he
might have been the first tragedian on any stage: the heroic, the
great, filled his soul; and yet he had to become a Pulcinella. His
very sorrow and melancholy did but increase the comic dryness of his
sharply-cut features, and increased the laughter of the audience, who
showered plaudits on their favourite. The lovely Columbine was indeed
kind and cordial to him; but she preferred to marry the Harlequin. It
would have been too ridiculous if beauty and ugliness had in reality
paired together.

[Footnote 3: The comic or grotesque character of the Italian ballet,
from which the English "Punch" takes his origin.]

"When Pulcinella was in very bad spirits, she was the only one who
could force a hearty burst of laughter, or even a smile from him:
first she would be melancholy with him, then quieter, and at last
quite cheerful and happy. 'I know very well what is the matter with
you,' she said; 'yes, you're in love!' And he could not help laughing.
'I and Love!' he cried, 'that would have an absurd look. How the
public would shout!' 'Certainly, you are in love,' she continued; and
added with a comic pathos, 'and I am the person you are in love with.'
You see, such a thing may be said when it is quite out of the
question--and, indeed, Pulcinella burst out laughing, and gave a leap
into