considered as his footing; and, considering the smallness of the sum, honest Gabriele did a great deal. As soon as the ceremonies began in the church, we repaired to the choir, whence we observed all that passed. The church was crowded with people who came to see the funzione, which began with a messa cantata, wherein our worthy Superior exhi bited his musical talents to great advantage, singing all the solos himself, and being always heard the loudest in the chorus: indeed, he might have said with Bottom, "I will aggravate..my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove." The singing in the choir was equalled by the unusual pomp below. After >the grand mass, one of the novices preached a short sermon, or rather a eulogy in praise of those who made themselves monks; this the lay-brother seemed to listen to with humble devotion, and when it was finished he retired into the sacristy: immediately a bell by the side of the church door was rung, and a long range of spari (little mortars about five inches long) began to be fired off, and under the cover of this amusing battery, the Superior retreated to arrange his dress. When the firing was over, he made his appearance in the church through a side door; he was loaded with all the finery of the Monastery, and fine indeed he was: his robes were gaudy and heavy;-silk, and gold, and embroidery, rose on a ground which had once been white; and these, oppressive enough in themselves, were thrown over his ordinary monk's dress, which Heaven knows is none of the coolest. The weather was very warm, and, as he had been exerting himself pretty violently in singing, and bustling about to give -due éclat to the festival, his face, when he peeped through the little door, was something like a London sun in a foggy day. He plunged into the church, vibrating from side to side, rolling his great head, (a particular practice he had) and evidently breathing hard from fatigue: his right hand held a pastoral crook, and his left was gracefully "applied to his belly; he was followed by four monks, also covered with white robes, in the middle of whom walked the professing laybrother; they advanced to the altar 8 and fell upon their knees; after a short prayer, they all arose except the lay-brother, upon whose head the Superior laid his hands, and began to repeat the vow in Latin, in which, although it was not very long, and he had been studying for a day or two, he was so imperfect, as to be frequently obliged to consult a book which one of the monks held open before him. The lay-brother repeated the vow, sentence by sentence, after the Superior, not comprehending much of what he repeated, but taking all on trust to be what had been explained to him beforehand. When the profession was finished, the strangest part of the exhibition began: the new made monk arose, and was conducted by the Superior, followed by the monks, who did not choose this time to be very close in their attendance for reasons about to be disclosed: they had hardly turned their backs to the altar when we observed a sudden movement in the congregation; there was a great rising from seats, rummaging in pockets, and standing on tip-toe, and presently there proceeded from every part of the church a discharge of rough comfits which were directed generally pretty successfully at the Superior and the new-made monk. This discharge was accompanied by the simultaneous movement of a number of ragged children who precipitated themselves on the floor to pick up the sweetmeats: by their number, and their struggling with one another, the progress of the procession was impeded, and the monks exposed to the fire, which was kept up very briskly. The Superior bore all this with admirable patience for awhile, and only sought to defend himself a little by holding up part of his finery; anon, however, a whole handful “hit him too hard," and then dropping his guard he began clearing away the hindrances, (i. e. the children) with his feet: just then some confetti, maliciously directed, took him clean about the face and eyes-he lost all his patience, and almost ran to the door of the sacristy. The procession remained a few seconds in the sacristy, and then returned in the same order in which it had gone out, to the altar. Though the ammunition, with which the spectators had supplied themselves, was now consider. ably diminished, still enough remained to keep up a running fire; and as the children followed the comfits where ever they fell, even the steps of the altar were besieged by them, and they were heard squalling and seen sprawl ing on the ground, and struggling with one another in every part of the church, notwithstanding the admonishing voice of the Superior, and sundry manual arguments of the laybrothers. After a short prayer at the altar, the monks retired again to the sacristy, and the ceremony ended, The pelting very much surprised us, as we thought it so entirely at variance with the character of seriousness and decorum which would have been proper to the scene: however, nearly all the people present joined in it very merrily; they laughed, talked aloud, pushed one another, and seemed to have the same sort of relish for the function, as for a carnival procession. When the church was cleared, we went into the cloisters, and loitered about until dinner time, which followed very closely on the morning fatigues. On entering the refectory, we found every face lighted up with smiles brighter than usual; a remis sion of the observance of silence had been granted, and they were all chattering about the funzione, applauding the various parts of it, and anticipating the luxuries of which they were about to partake. The dishes were served round, and the good humour increased. We took our seats by the Superior, who asked us with proud satisfaction how we had liked the ceremonies, and especially the singing; and anon he began to open the fountains of his wit, and repeated again and again every pleasantry with which his memory was stored. The dinner was really quelche cosa di bello; there was the usual soup and boulli; they were followed by a ragout of bullock's tongue, (esteemed a great delicacy by the monks) and then came an arrosto di vaccina (roast beef), and the rear of the repast was brought up by a pizra, a Neapolitan dish, composed of paste, covered with a composition of eggs and cheese, sprinkled over with a little sugar: at the same time that the pizra was introduced, a lay-brother went round with a large bottle, from which he filled every one's glass with some pretty good wine. The wine as well as the pizra was a complimento* paid by the new-made monk to his bro thers; a little dessert was served round, and that concluded the dinner. As the repast had continued longer, and as the monks had undergone extraordinary fatigues, and had drunk a glass or two of wine more than usual, on retiring from the refectory they all went to bed to recruit their forces for the remainder of the day's work. The other occasion of this sort, was the profession of a young man who had passed his noviciate in the monastery, and who now took the vows which raised him to the more dignified and comfortable rank of father: the ceremonies were much the same, but there was a greater profusion of comfits employed in pelting in the church, and some additional means furnished for the enjoy ment in the refectory, as some sweetmeats, some rosolio, and some sor betti. The young monk afterwards entertained himself in his cell with some relations and friends, who had come to assist at the ceremonies, and to rejoice with him on the happy change of his condition. They were very loud in their gaiety; one of them played a clarionet, and the others laughed, talked, and sang some Neapolitan burlesque songs, which were rather broad, and very curious to be heard in a monk's cell. This merriment was kept up for a long time: it ceased, however, at length, and they all took their after dinner's nap. The new-made monk did not appear in the refectory in the evening, but after supper, while we were sitting in the alcove, we heard the noise of plates and glasses in his cell, and somewhat later, the same rejoicing as in the afternoon; the gentlemen, however, were rather more noisy, and uttered a good deal of the slang of Naples, and acted a variety of imitations of the popular Pulcinella. The next morning the young man left the con With the Neapolitans a compliment means something to eat or drink-ci à fatto complimenti, often means no more than that so and so has given us a glass of rosolio, or a bit of cake. vent, in company with his friends, to go to Naples, it being customary for every new-made padre to have fifteen days' liberty and enjoyment after his profession, and previous to his entering upon the duties of his calling. We had occasion to go into town at the same time, and we met the gay brigata in the passage boat: they were by no means so merry as on the preceding day; and as it was rather a rough morning, they were soon reduced to a melancholy state of silence or complaint, and paid an abundant tribute to the waves in consequence of the excesses they had committed at the convent. They were all very low fellows, vulgar, and brutally ignorant; in short, true Neapolitans of La Lavandara (a Saint Giles' quarter of Naples) and it is generally from such classes of persons that the Franciscan monasteries are supplied: the young monk, however, was very superior to them; he was a very decent youth: and indeed during our residence at Sorrento, we frequently observed the disparity between the monks and their relations, and the superiority of the former in every respect. TRANSLATIONS FROM THE SUPPLEMENTAL ILIAD OF (Continued from our last Number.) . PARTING OF NEOPTOLEMUS FROM HIS MOTHER DEIDAMIA.-BOOK 7. This said, Achilles' valiant son replied; He said, and pass'd before; and they elate From mountain crags, and feel th' unconquer'd sun. The princes hail'd her, thus to grief a prey; Her son approach'd, and frankly told the fame Of their high lineage, and each single name, But till the dawn deferr'd the cause for which they came, And supplications check his hastening zeal. They took repast; and all were soothed with sleep, Who lay in Scyros 'midst the sounding deep, Where the still beating billows roar around, And dash'd with broken foam th' Ægean shores rebound. Morn climbs the spacious heaven; the heroes rise: As when the heifer unremitting wails T Her youngling, moaning deep o'er hills and echoing dales: That brunts the death-stroke and that shields the heart: Lest the death-news from Troy affright mine ear; Thy father fell himself; that mightier he, Ah! what more wretched, what more weak than she, She said, and wept aloud; her son replied, That I shall fall, unless by Fate's decree? He said; when Lycomedes reverend stood The mariner hangs on the brink of death: Fear, ere thou tempt the fickle breeze's breath, From Troy's, or other shores: then, when the sun And leaves the Archer and his bow behind; Then clouds and storms come thickening in the wind: Dread in thy mind the equinoctial gale, Then tempests scour the waters waste and wide, Fear too the Goat, when from th' horizon's verge He spoke, and kiss'd his grandson; nor withheld He smiling blithe was hastening to the beech; Her fettering arms; his feet but pause to part, As round some mansion's jutting frieze on high Caught shrieking, and with sorrow wrapp'd her soul; And plaining beats the cornice with her breast; Fast tears; and on her son's deserted bed Fall'n at her length, shriek'd loud; and o'er and o'er Through which he pass'd away; and fondly press'd And twenty followers, valiant men and tried: To serve her son, and guard him where he went. They of Achilles' son composed the train, Thus through the city hastening to the main: He marching in the midst exulting trod; Glad Nereids look'd, and smiled the blue-hair'd god, To see Achilles' son, a dawning star, Languish to cope with fields of tearful war, Though beardless was his cheek: strength nerved the frame, And knit the joints; the spirit lent the flame. He bounded from his country's shores, like Mars |