Seventeenth Evening"I have spoken to you of Pompeii," said the Moon; "that
corpse of a city, exposed in the view of living towns: I know
another sight still more strange, and this is not the corpse, but
the spectre of a city. Whenever the jetty fountains splash into the
marble basins, they seem to me to be telling the story of the
floating city. Yes, the spouting water may tell of her, the waves
of the sea may sing of her fame! On the surface of the ocean a mist
often rests, and that is her widow's veil. The bridegroom of the
sea is dead, his palace and his city are his mausoleum! Dost thou
know this city? She has never heard the rolling of wheels or the
hoof-tread of horses in her streets, through which the fish swim,
while the black gondola glides spectrally over the green wat
