And child, an
admirable work, with painted eyes and the dress gilded and figured.
What an extraordinary number of fine or, at the least, interesting
things one finds in Italy which no one knows anything about. In
one day, poking about at random, we had seen some early frescoes at
S. Cristoforo, an excellent work at Morbio, and here was another
fine thing sprung upon us. It is not safe ever to pass a church in
Italy without exploring it carefully. The church may be new and
for the most part full of nothing but what is odious, but there is
no knowing what fragment of earlier work one may not find
preserved.
Signor Barelli, for this was our friend's name, now gave us some
prints of the sanctuary, one of which I reproduce on p. 240.
Behind the church there is a level piece of ground with a table and
stone seats round it. The view from here in fine weather is very
striking. As it was, however, it was perhaps hardly less fine than
in clear weather, for the clouds had now raised themselves a
little, though very little, above the sanctuary, but here and there
lay all ragged down below us, and cast beautiful reflected lights
upon the lake and town of Como.
Above, the heavens were still black and lowering. Over against us
was the Monte Generoso, very sombre, and scarred with snow-white
torrents; below, the dull, sullen slopes of the Monte Bisbino, and
the lake of Como; further on, the Mendrisiotto and the blue-black
plains of Lombardy. I have been at the top of the Monte Bisbino
several times, but never was more impressed with it. At all times,
however, it is a marvellous place.
Coming down we kept the ridge of the hill instead of taking the
path by which we ascended. Beautiful views of the monastery are
thus obtained. The flowers in spring must be very varied; and we
still found two or three large kinds of gentians and any number of
cyclamens. Presently Vela dug up a fern root of the common
Polypodium vulgare; he scraped it with his knife and gave us some
to eat. It is not at all bad, and tastes very much like liquorice.
Then we came upon the little chapel of S. Nicolao. I do not know
whether there is anything good inside or no. Then we reached Sagno
and returned to Mendrisio; as we re-crossed the stream between
Morbio Superiore and Castello we found it had become a raging
torrent, capable of any villainy.
CHAPTER XXI - A Day at the Cantine
Next day we went to breakfast with Professor Vela, the father of my
friend Spartaco, at Ligornetto.
