atore, "to remember how near those who live are always to
death, who has only to open his gates to cause the strongest and fairest
to pass at once into the tomb."

"By San Stefano, but you have a way with you, vice-governatore, that
would become a cardinal! It's a thousand pities the church was robbed of
such a support; though I do think, Signor Andrea, if your mind would
dwell less on another state of being, it would be more cheerful; and I
may say, more cheering to those with whom you discourse. There are evils
enough in this life, without thinking so much of death."

"There are philosophers who pretend, good Vito, that nothing that we see
around us actually has an existence: that we _fancy_ everything; fancy
that this is a sea, called the Mediterranean; fancy this is a
ship--yonder is the land; fancy that we live; and even fancy death."

"Corpo di Bacco! Signor Andrea," exclaimed the other, stopping short at
the foot of the ladder, and seizing his companion by a button, afraid he
would desert him in the midst of a strange delusion, "you would not
trifle in such a matter with an old friend; one who has known you from
childhood? _Fancy_ that I am alive!"

"_Si_--I have told you only the truth. The imagination is very strong,
and may easily give the semblance of reality to unreal things."

"And that I am not a podesta, in fact, but one only in fancy!"

"Just so, friend Vito; and that I am only a vice-governatore, too, in
the imagination."

"And that Elba is not a real island, or Porto Ferrajo a real town; and
that even all our iron, of which we _seem_ to send so much about the
world, in good, wholesome ships, is only a sort of ghost of solid,
substantial metal!"

"_St, si_--that everything which appears to be material is, in fact,
imaginary; iron, gold, or flesh."

"And then I am not Vito Viti, but an impostor? What a rascally
philosophy is this! Why, both of us are as bad as this Sir Smees, if
what you say be true, vice-governatore--or make-believe
vice-governatore."

"Not an impostor, friend Vito; for there is no real being of thy name,
if thou art not he."

"Diavolo! A pretty theory this, which would teach the young people of
Elba that there is no actual podesta in the island, but only a poor,
miserable, sham one; no Vito Viti on earth. If they get to think this,
God help the place, as to order and sobriety."

"I do not think, neighbor, that you fully understand the matter, which
may be owing to a want