nzoni a ballo_--a long
medley woven together like a garland. The youngest princess, an
impulsive little creature, about my own age, kept nodding her head in
time to the music. Her smile and her eyes with their long lashes I can
see to this day.

"Now let me briefly describe the rest of the entertainment, though it
has nothing to do with my affair in the garden. You could hardly imagine
anything prettier. The play with the balls gradually ceased, and then,
all of a sudden, one of the youths of the green colors drew out of the
water a net with which he seemed to have been playing. To the general
surprise, a huge shining fish lay in it. The boy's companions sprang to
seize it, but it slipped from their hands to the sea, as if it had
really been alive. This was only a ruse, however, to lure the red youths
from their boat; and they fell into the trap. They, as well as those of
the green, threw themselves into the water after the fish. So began a
lively and most amusing chase. At last the green swimmers, seeing their
opportunity, boarded the red boat, which now had only the maidens to
defend it. The noblest of the enemy, as handsome as a god, hastened
joyfully to the beautiful maiden, who received him with rapture,
heedless of the despairing shrieks of the others. All efforts of the red
to recover their boat were vain; they were beaten back with oars and
weapons. Their futile rage and struggles, the cries and prayers of the
maidens, the music--now changed in tone--the waters--all made a scene
beyond description, and the audience applauded wildly. Then suddenly the
sail was loosed, and out of it sprang to the bowsprit a rosy,
silver-winged boy, with bow and arrows and quiver; the oars began to
move, the sail filled, and the boat glided away, as if under the
guidance of the god, to a little island. Thither, after signals of truce
had been exchanged, the red youths hastened after boarding the deserted
boat. The unhappy maidens were released, but the fairest one of all
sailed away, of her own free will, with her lover. And that was the end
of the comedy."

"I think," whispered Eugenie to the Baron, in the pause that followed,
"that we had there a complete symphony in the true Mozart spirit. Am I
not right? Hasn't it just the grace of _Figaro_?"

But just as the Baron would have repeated this remark to Mozart, the
composer continued: "It is seventeen years since I was in Italy. But who
that has once seen Italy, Naples especiall