February 27th 1859.
For many days past there have been tokens of the coming
Carnival in the Corso and the adjacent streets; for example, in the shops, by the
display of masks of wire, pasteboard, silk, or cloth, some of beautiful features,
others hideous, fantastic, currish, asinine, huge-nosed, or otherwise monstrous;
some intended to cover the whole face, others concealing only the upper part;
also, white dominoes, or robes bedizened with gold lace and theatric
splendours, displayed at the windows of mercers or flaunting before the doors.
Yesterday U---- and I came along the Corso, between one and two o'clock, after
a walk, and found all these symptoms of impending merriment multiplied and
intensified ; . . . . rows of chairs, set out along the sidewalks, elevated a
foot or two by means of planks; great baskets, full of confetti, for sale in
the nooks and recesses of the streets; bouquets of all qualities and price. The
Corso was becoming pretty well thronged with people; but, until two o'clock,
nobody dared to fling as much as a rosebud or a handful of sugar-plums. There
was a sort of holiday expression, however, on almost everybody's face, such as
I have not hitherto seen in Rome, or in any part of Italy; a smile gleaming
out, an aurora of mirth, which probably will not be very exuberant in its
noontide.
The day was so sunny and bright that it made this opening
scene far more cheerful than any day of the last year's Carnival. As we
threaded our way through the Corso, U---- kept wishing she could plunge into the
fun and uproar as J would, and for my own part, though I pretended to take no
interest in the matter, I could have bandied confetti and nosegays as readily
and as riotously as any urchin there. But my black hat and grave talma would
have been too good a mark for the combatants, .... so we went home before a
shot was fired. . .
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