Chapter 6

Italy,Philiphadalwaysmaintained,isonlyhertrueselfintheheightofthesummer,whenthetouristshavelefther,andhersoulawakesunderthebeamsofaverticalsun.Henowhadeveryopportunityofseeingheratherbest,foritwasnearlythemiddleofAugustbeforehewentouttomeetHarrietintheTirol. Hefoundhissisterinadensecloudfivethousandfeetabovethesea,chilledtothebone,overfed,bored,andnotatallunwillingtobefetchedaway. “Itupsetsone’splansterribly,”sheremarked,asshesqueezedouthersponges,“butobviouslyitismyduty.” “Didmotherexplainitalltoyou?”askedPhilip. “Yes,indeed!Motherhaswrittenmeareallybeautifulletter.Shedescribeshowitwasthatshegraduallygottofeelthatwemustrescuethepoorbabyfromitsterriblesurroundings,howshehastriedbyletter,anditisnogood—nothingbutinsincerecomplimentsandhypocrisycameback.Thenshesays,‘ThereisnothinglikepersonalinfluenceyouandPhilipwillsucceedwhereIhavefailed.’Shesays,too,thatCarolineAbbotthasbeenwonderful.” Philipassented. “Carolinefeelsitaskeenlyalmostasus.Thatisbecausesheknowstheman.Oh,hemustbeloathsome!Goodnessme!I’veforgottentopacktheammonia!...IthasbeenaterriblelessonforCaroline,butIfancyitisherturning-point.Ican’thelplikingtothinkthatoutofallthisevilgoodwillcome.” Philipsawnoprospectofgood,norofbeautyeither.Buttheexpeditionpromisedtobehighlycomic.Hewasnotaversetoitanylongerhewassimplyindifferenttoallinitexceptthehumours.Thesewouldbewonderful.Harriet,workedbyhermotherMrs.Herriton,workedbyMissAbbottGino,workedbyacheque—whatbetterentertainmentcouldhedesire?Therewasnothingtodistracthimthistimehissentimentalityhaddied,sohadhisanxietyforthefamilyhonour.Hemightbeapuppet’spuppet,butheknewexactlythedispositionofthestrings. Theytravelledforthirteenhoursdown-hill,whilstthestreamsbroadenedandthemountainsshrank,andthevegetationchanged,andthepeopleceasedbeinguglyanddrinkingbeer,andbeganinsteadtodrinkwineandtobebeautiful.AndthetrainwhichhadpickedthematsunriseoutofawasteofglaciersandhotelswaswaltzingatsunsetroundthewallsofVerona. “Absurdnonsensetheytalkabouttheheat,”saidPhilip,astheydrovefromthestation.“Supposingwewerehereforpleasure,whatcouldbemorepleasurablethanthis?” “Didyouhear,though,theyareremarkingonthecold?”saidHarrietnervously.“Ishouldneverhavethoughtitcold.” Andontheseconddaytheheatstruckthem,likeahandlaidoverthemouth,justastheywerewalkingtoseethetombofJuliet.Fromthatmomenteverythingwentwrong.TheyfledfromVerona.Harriet’ssketch-bookwasstolen,andthebottleofammoniainhertrunkburstoverherprayer-book,sothatpurplepatchesappearedonallherclothes.Then,asshewasgoingthroughMantuaatfourinthemorning,PhilipmadeherlookoutofthewindowbecauseitwasVirgil’sbirthplace,andasmutflewinhereye,andHarrietwithasmutinhereyewasnotorious.AtBolognatheystoppedtwenty-fourhourstorest.ItwasaFESTA,andchildrenblewbladderwhistlesnightandday.“Whatareligion!”saidHarriet.Thehotelsmelt,twopuppieswereasleeponherbed,andherbedroomwindowlookedintoabelfry,whichsalutedherslumberingformeveryquarterofanhour.Philiplefthiswalking-stick,hissocks,andtheBaedekeratBolognasheonlylefthersponge-bag.NextdaytheycrossedtheApennineswithatrain-sickchildandahotlady,whotoldthemthatnever,neverbeforehadshesweatedsoprofusely.“Foreignersareafilthynation,”saidHarriet.“Idon’tcareiftherearetunnelsopenthewindows.”Heobeyed,andshegotanothersmutinhereye.NordidFlorenceimprovematters.Eating,walking,evenacrosswordwouldbathethembothinboilingwater.Philip,whowasslighterofbuild,andlessconscientious,sufferedless.ButHarriethadneverbeentoFlorence,andbetweenthehoursofeightandelevenshecrawledlikeawoundedcreaturethroughthestreets,andswoonedbeforevariousmasterpiecesofart.ItwasanirritablecouplewhotookticketstoMonteriano. “Singlesorreturns?”saidhe. “Asingleforme,”saidHarrietpeevishly“Ishallnevergetbackalive.” “Sweetcreature!”saidherbrother,suddenlybreakingdown.“HowhelpfulyouwillbewhenwecometoSignorCarella!” “Doyousuppose,”saidHarriet,standingstillamongawhirlofporters—“doyousupposeIamgoingtoenterthatman’shouse?” “Thenwhathaveyoucomefor,pray?Forornament?” “Toseethatyoudoyourduty.” “Oh,thanks!” “Somothertoldme.Forgoodnesssakegettheticketsherecomesthathotwomanagain!Shehastheimpudencetobow.” “Mothertoldyou,didshe?”saidPhilipwrathfully,ashewenttostruggleforticketsataslitsonarrowthattheywerehandedtohimedgeways.Italywasbeastly,andFlorencestationisthecentreofbeastlyItaly.Buthehadastrangefeelingthathewastoblameforitallthatalittleinfluxintohimofvirtuewouldmakethewholelandnotbeastlybutamusing.Fortherewasenchantment,hewassureofthatsolidenchantment,whichlaybehindtheportersandthescreamingandthedust.Hecouldseeitintheterrificblueskybeneathwhichtheytravelled,inthewhitenedplainwhichgrippedlifetighterthanafrost,intheexhaustedreachesoftheArno,intheruinsofbrowncastleswhichstoodquiveringuponthehills.Hecouldseeit,thoughhisheadachedandhisskinwastwitching,thoughhewashereasapuppet,andthoughhissisterknewhowhewashere.TherewasnothingpleasantinthatjourneytoMonterianostation.Butnothing—noteventhediscomfort—wascommonplace. “Butdopeopleliveinside?”askedHarriet.Theyhadexchangedrailway-carriageforthelegno,andthelegnohademergedfromthewitheredtrees,andhadrevealedtothemtheirdestination.Philip,tobeannoying,answered“No.” “Whatdotheydothere?”continuedHarriet,withafrown. “Thereisacaffe.Aprison.Atheatre.Achurch.Walls.Aview.” “Notforme,thankyou,”saidHarriet,afteraweightypause. “Nobodyaskedyou,Miss,yousee.NowLiliawasaskedbysuchaniceyounggentleman,withcurlsalloverhisforehead,andteethjustaswhiteasfathermakesthem.”Thenhismannerchanged.“But,Harriet,doyouseenothingwonderfulorattractiveinthatplace—nothingatall?” “Nothingatall.It’sfrightful.” “Iknowitis.Butit’sold—awfullyold.” “Beautyistheonlytest,”saidHarriet.“AtleastsoyoutoldmewhenIsketchedoldbuildings—forthesake,Isuppose,ofmakingyourselfunpleasant.” “Oh,I’mperfectlyright.Butatthesametime—Idon’tknow—somanythingshavehappenedhere—peoplehavelivedsohardandsosplendidly—Ican’texplain.” “Ishouldn’tthinkyoucould.Itdoesn’tseemthebestmomenttobeginyourItalymania.Ithoughtyouwerecuredofitbynow.Instead,willyoukindlytellmewhatyouaregoingtodowhenyouarrive.Idobegyouwillnotbetakenunawaresthistime.” “First,Harriet,IshallsettleyouattheStellad’Italia,inthecomfortthatbefitsyoursexanddisposition.ThenIshallmakemyselfsometea.AfterteaIshalltakeabookintoSantaDeodata’s,andreadthere.Itisalwaysfreshandcool.” ThemartyredHarrietexclaimed,“I’mnotclever,Philip.Idon’tgoinforit,asyouknow.ButIknowwhat’srude.AndIknowwhat’swrong.” “Meaning—?” “You!”sheshouted,bouncingonthecushionsofthelegnoandstartlingallthefleas.“What’sthegoodofclevernessifaman’smurderedawoman?” “Harriet,Iamhot.Towhomdoyourefer?” “He.Her.Ifyoudon’tlookouthe’llmurderyou.Iwishhewould.” “Tuttut,tutlet!You’dfindacorpseextraordinarilyinconvenient.”Thenhetriedtobelessaggravating.“Iheartilydislikethefellow,butweknowhedidn’tmurderher.Inthatletter,thoughshesaidalot,sheneversaidhewasphysicallycruel.” “Hehasmurderedher.Thethingshedid—thingsonecan’tevenmention—” “Thingswhichonemustmentionifone’stotalkatall.Andthingswhichonemustkeepintheirproperplace.Becausehewasunfaithfultohiswife,itdoesn’tfollowthatineverywayhe’sabsolutelyvile.”Helookedatthecity.Itseemedtoapprovehisremark. “It’sthesupremetest.Themanwhoisunchivalroustoawoman—” “Oh,stowit!TakeittotheBackKitchen.It’snomoreasupremetestthananythingelse.TheItaliansneverwerechivalrousfromthefirst.Ifyoucondemnhimforthat,you’llcondemnthewholelot.” “Icondemnthewholelot.” “AndtheFrenchaswell?” “AndtheFrenchaswell.” “Thingsaren’tsojollyeasy,”saidPhilip,moretohimselfthantoher. ButforHarrietthingswereeasy,thoughnotjolly,andsheturneduponherbrotheryetagain.“Whataboutthebaby,pray?You’vesaidalotofsmartthingsandwhittledawaymoralityandreligionandIdon’tknowwhatbutwhataboutthebaby?Youthinkmeafool,butI’vebeennoticingyoualltoday,andyouhaven’tmentionedthebabyonce.Youhaven’tthoughtaboutit,even.Youdon’tcare.Philip!Ishallnotspeaktoyou.Youareintolerable.” Shekeptherpromise,andneveropenedherlipsalltherestoftheway.Buthereyesglowedwithangerandresolution.Forshewasastraight,bravewoman,aswellasapeevishone. Philipacknowledgedherreprooftobetrue.Hedidnotcareaboutthebabyonestraw.Nevertheless,hemeanttodohisd