But before I was
aware of it he was scolding me for a _furfante_! Even though it were
only a senseless bird, it irritated me. I scolded him back; we both
got angry; the more I scolded in German, the more he abused me in
Italian.
Suddenly I heard some one laughing behind me. I turned quickly, and
perceived the painter of the morning. "What nonsense are you at now!"
he said. "I have been waiting for you for half an hour. The air has
grown cooler: we will go to a garden in the suburbs where you will
find several fellow-countrymen, and perhaps learn something further of
the German Countess."
I was charmed with this proposal, and we set out immediately, the
parrot screaming out abuse of me as I left him.
After we had walked for a long while outside of the city, ascending by
a narrow, stony pathway an eminence dotted with villas and vineyards,
we reached a small garden very high up, where several young men and
maidens were sitting in the open air about a round table. As soon
as we made our appearance they all signed to us to keep silence,
and pointed toward the other end of the garden, where in a large,
vine-wreathed arbor two beautiful ladies were sitting opposite each
other at a table. One was singing, while the other accompanied her
on the guitar. Between them stood a pleasant-looking gentleman, who
occasionally beat time with a small baton. The setting sun shone
through the vine-leaves, upon the fruits and flasks of wine with which
the table was provided, and upon the plump, white shoulders of the
lady with the guitar.
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