Ariadne S Book Of Dreams

Organized into an easy-to-use, alphabetical dictionary format, a guide to dream interpretation focuses on both classic and contemporary dream symbols and explains how dreams can reveal hidden truths about the physical, emotional, and metaphysical realms of life. Original.

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1877 edition. Excerpt: ... Handsome Dea came smiling for her yellow shoes; big Basso swore at me good-temperedly because his butcher-boots were not ready; Padre Sylvio grumbled because his sandals lay untouched; Marietta, the vintner's wife, told me of a fine marriage that Pippo had made up for her eldest daughter with a tailor of Velletri; Maryx, my sculptor, came and talked to me of a portfolio full of designs of Bramante, that he had discovered and got for a song in an old shop in Trastevere; even Hilarion, going by with his swift horses, leaped out in his easy, gracious fashion, and bade me come up to his villa and drink his old French wines there, whilst he should idle among his roses, and scrawl half a sonnet, and lie half asleep with his head in a woman's lap, under the awning on his marble terrace. But I even let Hilarion go on his way, with that black-browed singer whom he favored for the moment; and I did not care for Bramante's beautiful porticoes and domes and bridges; and I heard nothing that Marietta was telling me of the fine trade receipts of that young tailor of Velletri, --because I kept thinking of that sea-born Joy with the face of the Borghese bronze, who had gone down into the darkness of the Ghetto. "Gioji, Gioji! they should have called her Ariadne," I muttered, tossing the old bits of leather together on the board, and thinking of her likeness to that bronze, and of my dream. And Marietta, and all the rest of them coming out into the cooling air as the Ave Maria rang, grew very cross with me because I did not listen to them; and Padre Sylvio came again and grumbled for full ten minutes about his unmended sandals. He gone, there came a fisher fellow that I knew, with empty baskets on his head, and loitered by my stall a minute, a red...