We passed the little stream whose waters were blue with
sulphur, filling the air with its odor. The grasses and herbs were
green; here and there an almond tree was in blossom. The dark cypresses
of Hadrian's Villa stood like spires of thunder clouds against the
wonderful azures of this uplifting sky. Before us were the mountains,
pine-clad, vineyard-clad; and far up the gleam of a cascade shone like a
bent sword in the sun.
Serafino took us through the room of the d'Este Palace telling the
driver to meet us at one of the entrances to the grounds. When we
emerged and descended to the Hundred Fountains he turned away giving us
the directions to reach the carriage. He knew that this was a place
where lovers would wish to dispense with a guide.
We walked through the avenues of great cypress trees and came to the
farther end of the pools whose curbs were decorated with flowering urns.
There we looked at the palace and listened to the song of the merles.
Beside this all was silence, only the stir of the wind against the soft
strings of the trees--the most melodious harp in the world! We climbed
to an eminence, stood by an iron fence and gazed down upon the fisheries
surrounded by graceful bushes and trees. Then we found the Fontana dell'
Ovato, and a seat before it. It was a semicircle of stone perforated by
arches over which the water musically poured.
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