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THE BRIDGE OF VICO.

His favet natura locis, hic victor colenti
Cedit, et ignatos docilis mansuevit in usus

STATIUS.

THE bold eminence on which stands the town of Vico forms part of the beautiful line of coast we are endeavouring to describe between Castell-a-mare and Sorrento. It is surnamed Equense, to distinguish it from other towns of Italy of a like denomination. From a marble tablet we learn that Vico was founded by Charles II. King of Naples, in the year 1300, and certainly the style of its structure reflects no great credit on its founder. The pavement is moreover so rugged that it is with difficulty a horse can keep his footing, notwithstanding the improvements which are said to have been made by the different lords to whose sovereignty the town has been ceded at various times by the Kings of Naples. In the cathedral, enclosed within a handsome marble tomb, repose the remains of Giovanni, the first Bishop of Vico, who was presented to the See in 1300, by Charles II., the founder of the town. The neighbourhood of Vico is celebrated for its wholesome wines, which are recommended to all who visit the place. A singular natural curiosity, to which usually the attention of strangers is directed, is a grotto, formed by nature under the height

on which the town is situated. It is known by the name of the bridge of Vico. The waves of the sea pass unimpeded through the channel; and, in tempestuous weather, the reverberation of sound produced within its hollow recesses by the dashing waters is said almost to rival that of the far-famed Scylla, so poetically, though terrifically, described by the poets of antiquity.

Along the whole line of coast from Castell-a-mare to the Cape of Misenum, and extending thence to Salerno and the coast of Calabria, were originally erected Martello towers, to give notice of the approach of the Saracens and other piratical plunderers who formerly infested this coast; and, in after times, small forts were constructed by the French, when they had possession of this the most beautiful part of Europe, to prevent any communication between the discontented portion of the inhabitants and the English fleets, which, having the command of the sea, were ever hovering around, like the corsairs of old, though with a better intent, and on the alert to offer assistance to their partizans, or annoyance to their enemies. Sentinels were placed at these forts, owing to whose caution it was a very difficult matter to effect a communication with the shore.

An unfortunate accident occurred close to the bridge of Vico, during the latter period of the reign of Murat, arising out of the extreme vigilance of one of their functionaries, which at the time created an unpleasant sensation in Naples; but, as no blame could be attached to any one connected with the occurrence, it was allowed to pass without inquiry.

It was a clear beautiful night in the month of August, such as can be seen only in an Italian climate. The moon was not visible; but myriads of stars were reflected from the sparkling bosom of the bay, and the boats of the fishermen were glancing across its surface after their finny prey, with bright lights in their bows, looking like shooting meteors. The dark outline of Vesuvius, then slumbering like some huge giant after his toils, was thrown out in bold relief from the clear blue sky, and the neighbouring mountains, with their thousands of inhabitants, were hushed in quiet and deep repose. The only sound heard on the bay, besides the low murmur of the distant city which the night breeze carried over its waters, proceeded from a large boat pulling slowly along the southern shore, and filled with the students of the Royal Conservatorio della Pietà di Turquini. They were singing a beautiful chorus, accompanied by a band of musicians belonging to their own school, and were on their way to Sorrento, to perform on the morrow at the cathedral, in celebration of some grand Fiesta. Delighted with their little excursion, forming, as it did, so pleasing an interruption to the dull routine of their exercises, the glee of the young students knew no bounds.

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Stay," cried a young man named Malfatani, rising from the midst of his companions, "I shall leave you, and bestride the bows of the boat, like one of the Tritons of old, only, instead of the concha, I shall call the monsters of the deep around me by the notes of my violin." He took the instrument of which

he spoke, on which he was a first-rate artist, and, seating himself in the situation he had chosen, again resumed the chorus. Each was intent on his part, and the voices of the whole, harmonizing together with the sounds of the instruments, rendered the challenge of a French sentinel on the coast inaudible. The boat was slowly passing the bluff point of a rock, when the "Qui vive" of the sentinel was again called. A third time the ominous words were repeated, and were almost immediately followed by the discharge of a musket. Poor Malfatani uttered a cry of terror, and fell backwards into the boat. Instantly all was confusion. The guard from the fort, hearing the report, turned out and formed; and the boat pulled to the shore. The sentinel had fired across the bows of the boat when his challenge was unanswered, and the shot, entering the breast of the unfortunate student, had mortally wounded him.

A surgeon was speedily procured, who declared that he had but a few short hours to live. The officer of the guard, whom the unhappy occurrence had sensibly affected, bore the dying youth to his own quarters, and, placing him on his camp-bed, dispatched a messenger to Naples with the sad intelligence to his friends. His companions, thus so suddenly and fatally checked in their happy and joyous career, were struck with inexpressible sorrow. Malfatani was a young man of exceedingly promising talents, greatly beloved by all his fellows, and, having finished his studies, was about to enter into

the world. They stood around his dying couch weeping bitterly.

The night wore away in this melancholy and heartbreaking manner. The dying youth had not spoken since he had been brought on shore; and, by his difficult respiration, it became evident that the distressing scene was drawing near to its close. The messenger dispatched to Naples at this moment returned, and was accompanied, amongst others, by a young and beautiful female. As the door of the apartment opened where Malfatani lay, she rushed in, and, regardless of those around, threw herself beside the object of her anxiety, and as she raised his head upon her bosom, and gazed on his pallid features, now fixing in death, burst into a frantic agony of grief. The expiring student half opened his languid eyes, and, fixing them on her agonised countenance, faintly exclaimed, "My wife!" and breathed his last in her arms.

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