“What is thy name?”
“Donna di Diaccia,” was her reply.
“Then, Lady of Ice,” replied the wondrous man, “in the name of my magic power, I summon you to return to the ice from which you sprung, and to the water from which you were born!”
Then little by little, as she sat in the Emperor’s lap, the beautiful girl became a brilliant block of ice, and truly the great man, as his fingers and all his person began to freeze, was fain to place the image on the sofa, where they saw it presently thaw—features and feet and all dispersing, and running away in a stream, till every trace had flown, and the Emperor and the company understood that they had been admiring a Woman of Water.
There was a pause of utter bewilderment, as of awe, at this strange ending, and then a roar of laughter, in which the Emperor himself finally joined, crying: “Viva Virgilio! Long may he flourish with his magic art!” And so the feast ended with the clattering of cups, laughter, and merry cheers.
[So the Donna di Diaccio was a spirit? Certainly—the Spirit of Ice-water. If there is spirit in vermouth, why should there not be one in the iced water which you mix with it?]
This story may remind the reader of “Our Lady of the Snow,” or Byron’s “Witch of the Alps,” or Shelley’s “They all seem to be Sisters,” or else suggest “Frozen Champagne,” and “Philadelphia Frozen Oysters.”
VIRGIL THE MAGICIAN, OR THE FOUR VENUSES.
“Maint autres grand clercs ont estè
Au monde de grand poesié
Qui aprisrent tote lor vie,
Des sept ars et le astronomie,
Dont aucuns i ot qui a leur tens,
Firent merveille par lor sens;
Mais cil qui plus s’en entremist,
Fu Virgile qui mainte enfist.
Pour ce si vous en conterons
Aucune dont oi avons.”L’Image du Monde (1245).
Virgilio was as great a magician as he was a distinguished post. And of the great works which he did when alive many are yet remembered here in Florence, and among other things his skill was such that by means of it he made statues sing and dance.