The Marble Faun; Or, The Romance of Monte Beni - Volume 2
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Hawthorne Nathaniel. The Marble Faun; Or, The Romance of Monte Beni - Volume 2
CHAPTER XXIV. THE TOWER AMONG THE APENNINES
CHAPTER XXV. SUNSHINE
CHAPTER XXVI. THE PEDIGREE OF MONTE BENI
CHAPTER XXVII. MYTHS
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE OWL TOWER
CHAPTER XXIX. ON THE BATTLEMENTS
CHAPTER XXX. DONATELLO’S BUST
CHAPTER XXXI. THE MARBLE SALOON
CHAPTER XXXII. SCENES BY THE WAY
CHAPTER XXXIII. PICTURED WINDOWS
CHAPTER XXXIV. MARKET DAY IN PERUGIA
CHAPTER XXXV. THE BRONZE PONTIFF’S BENEDICTION
CHAPTER XXXVI. HILDA’S TOWER
CHAPTER XXXVII. THE EMPTINESS OF PICTURE GALLERIES
CHAPTER XXXVIII. ALTARS AND INCENSE
CHAPTER XXXIX. THE WORLD’S CATHEDRAL
CHAPTER XL. HILDA AND A FRIEND
CHAPTER XLI. SNOWDROPS AND MAIDENLY DELIGHTS
CHAPTER XLII. REMINISCENCES OF MIRIAM
CHAPTER XLIII. THE EXTINCTION OF A LAMP
CHAPTER XLIV. THE DESERTED SHRINE
CHAPTER XLV. THE FLIGHT OF HILDA’S DOVES
CHAPTER XLVI. A WALK ON THE CAMPAGNA
CHAPTER XLVII. THE PEASANT AND CONTADINA
CHAPTER XLVIII. A SCENE IN THE CORSO
CHAPTER XLIX. A FROLIC OF THE CARNIVAL
CHAPTER L. MIRIAM, HILDA, KENYON, DONATELLO
CONCLUSION
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“Come,” said the Count, “I see you already find the old house dismal. So do I, indeed! And yet it was a cheerful place in my boyhood. But, you see, in my father’s days (and the same was true of all my endless line of grandfathers, as I have heard), there used to be uncles, aunts, and all manner of kindred, dwelling together as one family. They were a merry and kindly race of people, for the most part, and kept one another’s hearts warm.”
“Two hearts might be enough for warmth,” observed the sculptor, “even in so large a house as this. One solitary heart, it is true, may be apt to shiver a little. But, I trust, my friend, that the genial blood of your race still flows in many veins besides your own?”
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“But I should regret to have suggested so ungenial a transformation in your hospitable saloon,” continued Kenyon, duly noting the change in Donatello’s characteristics. “You startle me, my friend, by so ascetic a design! It would hardly have entered your head, when we first met. Pray do not, — if I may take the freedom of a somewhat elder man to advise you,” added he, smiling, — “pray do not, under a notion of improvement, take upon yourself to be sombre, thoughtful, and penitential, like all the rest of us.”
“My dear Count,” said he, “I have a proposal to make. You must let me employ a little of my leisure in modelling your bust. You remember what a striking resemblance we all of us — Hilda, Miriam, and I — found between your features and those of the Faun of Praxiteles. Then, it seemed an identity; but now that I know your face better, the likeness is far less apparent. Your head in marble would be a treasure to me. Shall I have it?”
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