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Nathaniel Hawthorne. Passages from the French and Italian Notebooks, Complete
Passages from the French and Italian Notebooks, Complete
Table of Contents
VOL. I
PASSAGES FROM HAWTHORNE'S NOTE-BOOKS IN FRANCE AND ITALY
FRANCE
MARSEILLES
HOTEL DE PROVENCE ET DES AMBASSADEURS
THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA
ROME
JOURNEY TO FLORENCE
TO TERNI.—BORGHETTO
FOLIGNO
PERUGIA
PASSIGNANO
AREZZO
INCISA
TO FLORENCE
END OF VOL. I. PASSAGES FROM THE FRENCH AND ITALIAN NOTE-BOOKS
OF. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. VOL. II. PASSAGES FROM HAWTHORNE'S NOTE-BOOKS IN FRANCE AND ITALY
VILLA MONTANTO. MONTE BENI
SIENA
RADICOFANI
VITERBO
SETTE VENE
ROME
FRANCE
AVIGNON
GENEVA
VILLENEUVE
HAVRE
ENGLAND
LONDON
Отрывок из книги
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Published by Good Press, 2019
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By this time poor J—— (who, with his taste for art yet undeveloped, is the companion of all our visits to sculpture and picture galleries) was wofully hungry, and for bread we had given him a stone—not one stone, but a thousand. We returned to the hotel, and it being too damp and raw to go to our Restaurant des Echelles, we dined at the hotel. In my opinion it would require less time to cultivate our gastronomic taste than taste of any other kind; and, on the whole, I am not sure that a man would not be wise to afford himself a little discipline in this line. It is certainly throwing away the bounties of Providence, to treat them as the English do, producing from better materials than the French have to work upon nothing but sirloins, joints, joints, steaks, steaks, steaks, chops, chops, chops, chops! We had a soup to-day, in which twenty kinds of vegetables were represented, and manifested each its own aroma; a fillet of stewed beef, and a fowl, in some sort of delicate fricassee. We had a bottle of Chablis, and renewed ourselves, at the close of the banquet, with a plate of Chateaubriand ice. It was all very good, and we respected ourselves far more than if we had eaten a quantity of red roast beef; but I am not quite sure that we were right. … .
Among the relics of kings and princes, I do not know that there was anything more interesting than a little brass cannon, two or three inches long, which had been a toy of the unfortunate Dauphin, son of Louis XVI. There was a map—a hemisphere of the world—which his father had drawn for this poor boy; very neatly done, too. The sword of Louis XVI., a magnificent rapier, with a beautifully damasked blade, and a jewelled scabbard, but without a hilt, is likewise preserved, as is the hilt of Henry IV.'s sword. But it is useless to begin a catalogue of these things. What a collection it is, including Charlemagne's sword and sceptre, and the last Dauphin's little toy cannon, and so much between the two!
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