I recollected that Salvator Rosa in his youth had voluntarily
sojourned for a time among the banditti of Calabria, and had filled his
mind with the savage scenery and savage associates by which he was
surrounded. I seized my pencil with enthusiasm at the thought. I found
the captain the most docile of subjects, and after various shifting of
positions, I placed him in an attitude to my mind.
Picture to yourself a stern, muscular figure, in fanciful bandit
costume, with pistols and poniards in belt, his brawny neck bare, a
handkerchief loosely thrown around it, and the two ends in front strung
with rings of all kinds, the spoils of travellers; reliques and medals
hung on his breast; his hat decorated with various-colored ribbands;
his vest and short breeches of bright colors and finely embroidered;
his legs in buskins or leggins. Fancy him on a mountain height, among
wild rocks and rugged oaks, leaning on his carbine as if meditating
some exploit, while far below are beheld villages and villas, the
scenes of his maraudings, with the wide Campagna dimly extending in the
distance.
The robber was pleased with the sketch, and seemed to admire himself
upon paper. I had scarcely finished, when the laborer arrived who had
been sent for my ransom. He had reached Tusculum two hours after
midnight. He brought me a letter from the prince, who was in bed at the
time of his arrival. As I had predicted, he treated the demand as
extravagant, but offered five hundred dollars for my ransom.
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