The actual cause
of his death was this,--and if you do not believe it, ask any true
Neapolitan, or Alexander Dumas, if you put more faith in him.--A certain
_canonico,_ named Don Ojori, had for many years desired an audience of
Ferdinand, to present him a certain book, of which Don Ojori was the
author. The King had his good reasons for refusing, for Don Ojori was well
known to be the greatest _jettatore_ in Naples. Finally, on the 2d of
January, the King was persuaded to grant him the desired favor the next
day, much against his will. The _canonico_ came, and after a long audience
left his book and many prayers for the King's prosperity. But Ferdinand did
not survive the interview a whole day; and if this be not proof that Don
Ojori bewitched him to his destruction, what is?
* * * * *
PYTHAGORAS.
Above the petty passions of the crowd
I stand in frozen marble like a god,
Inviolate, and ancient as the moon.
The thing I am, and not the thing Man is,
Fills these blank sockets. Let him moan and die;
For he is dust that shall be laid again:
I know my own creation was divine.
Strewn on the breezy continents I see
The veined shells and glistening scales which once
Enwrapt my being,--husks that had their use;
I brood on all the shapes I must attain
Before I reach the Perfect, which is God,
And dream my dream, and let the rabble go:
For I am of the mountains and the sea,
The deserts, and the caverns in the earth,
The catacombs and fragments of old worlds.
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