From Dan to Beersheba, at last they lifted him—
When the whole process they’d gone through and through,
With rites baptismal and with chrismal too—
Their heaven of three-piled roguedom to ascend,
Took him within the fold—and that’s his end!
Giuseppe Giusti.
LETTER TO TOMMASO GROSSI.
Pisa, Nov. 15, 1845.
Well done! Signor Grossi! Well done, indeed! Your lordship is over there enjoying yourself; and nobody even dreams of talking about a poor wretch like me, who is neither here nor there. But don’t you feel a singing in your ears from morning to night? You, I mean, you lazy, luxurious, thankless, forgetful wretch! Is it so much trouble to write on a piece of paper, “I am well—the family ditto, and we all remember you”? Is this what comes of your having a good time—eh? Now my gentleman is at Bellano, in his own house, away from everything that can possibly worry him, surrounded with every earthly blessing, and thinks he has the Pope in his pocket.... As for his friends, they are “out of sight, out of mind,” with him. Only let me come to Milan again, and you shall see. If ever you dare to try your old tricks again in my presence, I shall say to you, with a face a yard long—
Let Signor Grossi hook!