CATANIA.

Tum Catane nimium ardenti vicina Typhæo.

After a pleasant drive of twenty miles, we find ourselves at

_Aci-Reale_, where a street, called "Galatea," reminds us

unexpectedly of a very classical place called Dean's Yard, where we

once had doings with _Acis_, as he figures in Ovid's _Metamorphoses_.

We were here in luck, and, having purchased some fine coins of

several of the tyrants of Sicily from the apothecary, proceeded on

our way to Catania. In half an hour we reach the basaltic Isles of

the Cyclops, and the Castle of Acis, whom the peasants hereabouts

tell you was their king, when Sicily was under the Saracenic yoke.

The river _Lecatia_, now lost, is supposed formerly to have issued

hereabouts, in the port of Ulysses. Our next move placed us amidst

the silk-slops of Catania. We have hardly been five minutes in the

town, when offers abound to conduct us up Ætna, in whom, as so much

national wealth, the inhabitants seem to take as much interest as in

her useful and productive silk-looms. Standing fearless on the

pavement of lava that buried their ancient city, they point up with

complacency to its fountains above. The mischievous exploits of Ætna,

in past times, are in every mouth, and children learn their Ætnean

catechism as soon as they are breeched. Ætna here is all in all.

Churches are constructed out of his quarried _viscera_--great men lie

in tombs, of which the stones once ran liquid down his flames--snuff

is taken out of lava boxes--and devotion carves the crucifix on lava,

and numbers its beads on a lava rosary--nay, the apothecary's mortar

was sent him down from the great mortar-battery above, and the

village _belle_ wears fire-proof bracelets that were once too hot to

be meddled with. Go to the museum, and you will call it a museum of

Ætnean products. Nodulated, porous, condensed, streaked, spotted,

clouded, granulated lava, here assumes the colour, rivals the

compactness, sustains the polish, of jasper, of agate, and of marble;

indeed it sometimes surpasses, in beautiful veinage, the finest and

rarest Marmorean specimens. You would hardly distinguish some of it,

worked into jazza or vase, from _rosso antico_ itself. A very old and

rusty armoury may, as here, be seen any where; but a row of

formidable shark skulls, taken along the coast, and some in the very

port of Catania, are rarities on which the _ciceroni_ like to

prelect, being furnished with many a story of bathers curtailed by

them, and secure a large portion of attention, especially if you were

just thinking of a dip. A rather fine collection of bronzes has been

made from excavations in the neighbourhood, which, indeed, must

always promise to reward research. A figure of Mercury, two and a

half feet high, and so exactly similar to that of John of Bologna,

that his one seemed an absolute plagiarism, particularly attracted

our attention on that account. The great Italian artist, however, had

been dead one hundred and fifty years before this bronze was dug up.

Next in importance to the bronzes, we esteem the collection of

Sicilian, or Græco-Sicilian vases, though inferior in number and

selectness to those of the Vatican, or Museo-Borbonico. There is also

some ancient sculpture, and some pretty mosaic. Of this composition

is a bathfloor, where a family of Cupids, in the centre of the

pavement, welcome you with a _utere feliciter_, (may it do you good.)

Round the border, a circle of the personified _"months"_ is

artistically chained together, each bearing his _Greek_ name, for

fear of a mistake--names not half so good as Sheridan's translation

of the Revolutionary calendar--snowy, flowy, blowy--showery, flowery,

bowery--moppy, croppy, poppy--breezy, sneezy, freezy. In Catania, we

find no lack of coins, nor of sharp-eyed dealers, who know pretty

generally their value throughout Europe; but, in order to be quite

sure of the price _current,_ ask double what they take from one

another, and judge, by your abatement of it, of the state of the

market elsewhere. Now mind, sir, when they present you the most

impudent forgeries, you are not to get into a passion; but, glancing

from the object to the vender, quietly insinuate your want of

_absolute_ conviction in a _"che vi pare di questa moneta."_ He now

looks at it again, and takes a squint at _you;_ and supposing you

smell a rat, probably replies that certainly he _bought_ it for

_genuine;_ but you _have suggested a doubt,_ and the piece really

begins, even to _him_, to look suspicious, _"anzi à me."_ You reply

coolly, and put it down--"That was just what I was thinking;" and so

the affair passes quietly off. And now you _may_, if you happen to be

tender-hearted, say something compassionate to the poor innocent who

has been _taken in_, and proceed to ask him about another; and when

you see any thing you long to pocket, enquire what can he afford to

let a _brother collector_ (give him a step in rank) have _it_ for;

and so go on feeling your way, and never "putting your arm so far out

that you cannot comfortably draw it back again." He will probably ask

you if you know Mr B---- or C----, (English collectors,) with whom he

has had dealings, calling them "_stimabili signori;_" and, of course,

you have no doubt of it, though you never heard of them before. It is

also always conciliative to congratulate him on the possession of

such and such rare and "_belle cose;_" and if you thus contrive to

get into his good graces, he will deal with you at _fair prices_, and

perhaps amuse you with an account of such tricks as he is not ashamed

to have practised on _blockheads_, who will buy at any cost if the

die is fine. Indeed, it has passed into an aphorism among these

_mezzo-galantuomini_, as their countrymen call them, that a fine coin

is always worth _what you can get for it._

We heard the celebrated organ of St Benedict, which has been praising

God in tremendous hallelujahs ever since it was put up, and a hundred

years have only matured the richness of its tones. Its voice was

gushing out as we entered the church, and filling nave and aisle with

a diapason of all that was soft and soothing, as if a choir of

Guido's angels had broke out in harmony.

A stream of fresh water issues under the old town-wall, and an

immense mass of incumbent lava, of at least ninety feet high, impends

just above its source, the water struggling through a mass of rock

once liquefied by fire, in as limpid a rill as if it came from

limestone, and so excellent in quality that no other is used in

Catania. Women with buckets were ascending and descending to fetch

supplies out of the lava of the dead city below, for the use of the

living town above. Moreover, this is the only point in Catania where

the accident of a bit of wall arresting for some time the progress of

the lava current, has left the level of the old town to be rigidly

ascertained.

Here, as at _Aci-Reale_, balconies at windows, for the most part

supported by brackets, terminating in human heads, give a rich,

though rather a heavy, appearance to the street. Much amber is found

and worked at Catania. It has been lately discovered in a fossil

state, and in contiguity with fossil wood; but we were quite

_electrified_ at the price of certain little scent-bottles, and other

articles made of this production. You see it in all its possible

varieties of colour, opacity, or transparency. The green opalized

kind is the most prized, and four pounds was demanded for a pair of

pendants of this colour for earrings. Besides the yellow sort, which

is common every where, we see the ruby red, which is very rare: some

varieties are freckled, and some of the sort which afforded subjects

for Martial, and for more than one of the Greek anthologists, with

insects in its matrix. _This_ kind, they say, is found exclusively on

the coast of Catania. There are such pieces the size of a hand, but

it is generally in much smaller bits. Amber lies under, or is formed

_upon_ the sand, and abounds most near the _embouchure_ of a small

river in this neighbourhood. Many beautiful shells, fossils, and

other objects of natural history, appear in the dealers' trays; and

polished knife-handles of Sicilian _agate_ may be had at five dollars

a dozen.

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Volume 56, No. 345, July, 1844 · 第 36 / 117 题