DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0041
schwanthaler’s castle of schwaneck. 33
of the black-and-white marble floor. He described such
old; old fig-trees and vines, such orange groves and hedges
of aloes, such solitary convents, such a primitive peasantry,
such hot noontides, such views of Corsica, such stretches
of sea and sky; he called up so vividly before my imagi-
nation the little island of Monte Christo, and the rock out
in the sea which Napoleon visited daily, standing solitarily
upon it, gazing towards France, as he is so commonly
represented in pictures, that I felt at once transported into
Elba, and forgot we were wending our way towards
Munich ! All at once, however, Signor L. interrupted his
narrative by exclaiming, “ Ah, no ! not even in my own
beautiful Italian have I ever been able to express what I
feel most strongly—no, I cannot describe this wild, won-
drous sea as it breaks over the rocks And with this
exclamation his beautiful descriptions ceased, for, looking
round us, we perceived that Baron von H. had long before
escaped out of Elba, and was posting away far ahead of
us, and that a black thunder-cloud was rapidly coming up
behind us. Baron von H., and Marie, had hastened on to
order coffee at a way-side Wirthshaus, which we reached
just in time to escape the storm.
Whilst the rain descended, we amused ourselves with
watching a group of regular German Handwerks-burschen
playing at nine-pins under a shed. Every now and then a
long-haired and velvet-coated student, with a great length
of pipe in his hand, came to the door to inspect the state
of the weather, the game of nine-pins, or the visitors. I
had not seen such a genuine set of Burschcn since we left
Heidelberg. Here in Munich, the students seem lost
among the other inhabitants.
Fortunately the storm soon cleared off, and at length I
reached home, but very tired and very muddy from the
wet roads. Before parting, we all agreed, that having en-
VOL. IT. D
of the black-and-white marble floor. He described such
old; old fig-trees and vines, such orange groves and hedges
of aloes, such solitary convents, such a primitive peasantry,
such hot noontides, such views of Corsica, such stretches
of sea and sky; he called up so vividly before my imagi-
nation the little island of Monte Christo, and the rock out
in the sea which Napoleon visited daily, standing solitarily
upon it, gazing towards France, as he is so commonly
represented in pictures, that I felt at once transported into
Elba, and forgot we were wending our way towards
Munich ! All at once, however, Signor L. interrupted his
narrative by exclaiming, “ Ah, no ! not even in my own
beautiful Italian have I ever been able to express what I
feel most strongly—no, I cannot describe this wild, won-
drous sea as it breaks over the rocks And with this
exclamation his beautiful descriptions ceased, for, looking
round us, we perceived that Baron von H. had long before
escaped out of Elba, and was posting away far ahead of
us, and that a black thunder-cloud was rapidly coming up
behind us. Baron von H., and Marie, had hastened on to
order coffee at a way-side Wirthshaus, which we reached
just in time to escape the storm.
Whilst the rain descended, we amused ourselves with
watching a group of regular German Handwerks-burschen
playing at nine-pins under a shed. Every now and then a
long-haired and velvet-coated student, with a great length
of pipe in his hand, came to the door to inspect the state
of the weather, the game of nine-pins, or the visitors. I
had not seen such a genuine set of Burschcn since we left
Heidelberg. Here in Munich, the students seem lost
among the other inhabitants.
Fortunately the storm soon cleared off, and at length I
reached home, but very tired and very muddy from the
wet roads. Before parting, we all agreed, that having en-
VOL. IT. D