Tischbein proposes the young landscape painter Kniep as a permanent companion.
A guest of Hackert in the old palace, beside the new one «like the Escorial».
Boys soaking up the last warmth of a wheel-rim heated on the paving, the boundless crowd in which Goethe feels alone and calm, the blood of San Gennaro against the nearby inferno, a Pulcinella quarrelling with a monkey on the Molo and the fritter-makers of St Joseph's Day: the people of Naples in March.
In the courtyard of the Palazzo Colubrano, above a fountain, the colossal bronze horse's head: mighty brow, quivering nostrils, pricked ears.
With Tischbein, who loathes the shapelessness of the volcano: two guides haul them up by a leather strap.
Instead of Vesuvius, a boat trip to Pozzuoli with the Prince of Waldeck: «the clearest sky above, the most unstable ground below».
«Alla Locanda del Sgr. Moriconi al Largo del Castello»: Goethe's first Neapolitan address.
With Tischbein at Pompeii: straight streets, windowless houses, public buildings like models, yet walls painted with a taste that belongs to a whole people.
