CHAPTER V
from VOL II
Summary
‘In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire
With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales
Of woful chances, long ago betid.’
Two days after this conversation, Monsieur and Madame de Verneuil were to have set out for Naples, and the morning subsequent to their departure had been appointed for the marriage of Mr. Danvers.
But all these plans were necessarily overthrown by the intelligence given to Mr. St. Hubert within two hours of the time when they had been talking these said plans over. He was assured by a friend, on whose information he could depend, that the marriage of / Protestants could not be celebrated at Rome, where the English have no ambassador. It was therefore determined that the whole party should repair to Naples, and Isabel readily consented to defer going till all the others were ready.
Accordingly, they left Rome in strong force, full of happy anticipations; and after a speedy and most prosperous journey, arrived at Naples in as good spirits as when they set out, the lovely season of the year, the softness of the temperature, and the marvellous clearness of the heavens contributing not a little to the general gratification.
‘My dear uncle,’ said Agnes, looking delightedly around whilst on the road, seated in an open carriage, ‘how glad I should be if you would comfort me with the assurance that it is not very unpardonable to prefer the beautiful to the sublime. To tell you the honest truth, I almost hate the more tremendous features of nature, and find inexpressible pleasure / in surveying scenes of cheerfulness, cultivation and fertility. It is unjust to say that such scenes are deficient in variety. No two landscapes – no two points of view in which the same landscape can be seen, are ever alike; some bend in a river; some new appearance in lights and shadows upon the distant hills; some change at every turn of the road in the disposition of the trees, and a thousand other accidental causes, occasion a perpetual diversity, and are quite sufficient to enchant us without the accompaniment of roaring torrents, unfathomable precipices, threatening avalanches, or any of the other horrors that constitute the bleak, desolate, and terrific characteristics of the sublime.’
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- The Romance of Private Lifeby Sarah Harriet Burney, pp. 205 - 220Publisher: Pickering & ChattoFirst published in: 2014