Cavaliere regaled me with his best wine and rusks. I took some long
walks by the seaside; I had left Urbania wrapped in snow-clouds; down
on the coast there was a bright sun; the sunshine, the sea, the bustle
of the little port on the Adriatic seemed to do me good. I came back to
Urbania another man. Sor Asdrubale, my landlord, poking about in
slippers among the gilded chests, the Empire sofas, the old cups and
saucers and pictures which no one will buy, congratulated me upon the
improvement in my looks. "You work too much," he says; "youth requires
amusement, theatres, promenades, _amori_--it is time enough to be
serious when one is bald"--and he took off his greasy red cap. Yes, I
am better! and, as a result, I take to my work with delight again. I will
cut them out still, those wiseacres at Berlin!

_Dec. 14th_.--

I don't think I have ever felt so happy about my work. I see it all so
well--that crafty, cowardly Duke Robert; that melancholy Duchess
Maddalena; that weak, showy, would-be chivalrous Duke Guidalfonso; and
above all, the splendid figure of Medea. I feel as if I were the
greatest historian of the age; and, at the same time, as if I were a
boy of twelve. It snowed yesterday for the first time in the city, for
two good hours. When it had done, I actually went into the square and
taught the ragamuffins to make a snowman; no, a snow-woman; and I had
the fancy to call her Medea. "La pessima Medea!" cried one of the
boys--"the one who used to ride through the air on a goat?" "No, no," I
said; "she was a beautiful lady, the Duchess of Urbania, the most
beautiful woman that ever lived." I made her a crown of tinsel, and
taught the boys to cry "Evviva, Medea!" But one of them said, "She is a
witch! She must be burnt!" At which they all rushed to fetch burning
faggots and tow; in a minute the yelling demons had melted her down.