Publisher's Synopsis
This historic book may have numerous typos or missing text. Not indexed. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1908. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... THE RIVER TEMPLE OF CIVIDALE THERE is most often a special grace attaching to first acquaintance with a locality. The fancy leaps to take possession of unfamiliar charms; or, rather, things will lay themselves out deliberately to conquer us. It is like love at first sight, compared to which all else seems what the French call a marriage of esteem. But there are exceptions to this rule; and it may happen that the company of a genuine priest or priestess of the Genius Loci initiates us to unguessed wonders: the elusive divinity of the place, obstinately hidden before, responding to the words, sometimes to the mere quickened glance and sudden gesture of the adept. Thus it has been with Cividale this autumn. I knew the place before (or thought I knew it), and brought that old fellow-traveller of mine to see its temple and river. But, as things turned out, my friend has initiated me into their matchless romance. That little temple, serving as chapel to the adjoining nunnery, is certainly a place for such initiation. I had bidden the sacristan return to his dinner and leave us there alone, locking only the gate of the river terrace, so that the sound of the weir rose into the dusk of that strange sanctuary. It is a coloured dusk, filled with the faint scent of mouldering woodwork and of the incense of long ago. The vaultings are full of the smoky purples and yellows and greens of rubbed-out frescoes; and the brown carving of the Gothic stalls (worm-eaten and frayed almost into natural objects) is picked out with orange and blue. But, facing you as you enter, and making your heart stand still just a fraction of a second, is the unearthly whiteness of a row of life-size figures in an arch. Byzantine ladies, side by side, isolated, straight and tall, in stiff, plai...
