juana-第6章

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limited　space　in　the　garret　where　the　merchant　and　his　wife　had　gone

to　make　room　for　the　officer　who　was　billeted　upon　them；　did　not　allow

of　her　going　with　them。　Dona　Lagounia　had　therefore　left　the　young

girl　to　the　guardianship　of　lock　and　key；　under　the　protection　of

religious　ideas；　all　the　more　efficacious　because　they　were　partly

superstitious；　and　also　under　the　shield　of　a　native　pride　and

sensitive　modesty　which　made　the　young　Mancini　in　sort　an　exception

among　her　sex。　Juana　possessed　in　an　equal　degree　the　most　attaching

virtues　and　the　most　passionate　impulses；　she　had　needed　the　modesty

and　sanctity　of　this　monotonous　life　to　calm　and　cool　the　tumultuous

blood　of　the　Maranas　which　bounded　in　her　heart；　the　desires　of　which

her　adopted　mother　told　her　were　an　instigation　of　the　devil。



A　faint　ray　of　light　traced　along　the　sill　of　the　secret　door　guided

Montefiore　to　the　place；　he　scratched　the　panel　softly　and　Juana

opened　to　him。　Montefiore　entered；　palpitating；　but　he　recognized　in

the　expression　of　the　girl's　face　complete　ignorance　of　her　peril；　a

sort　of　naive　curiosity；　and　an　innocent　admiration。　He　stopped　short；

arrested　for　a　moment　by　the　sacredness　of　the　picture　which　met　his

eyes。



He　saw　before　him　a　tapestry　on　the　walls　with　a　gray　ground　sprinkled

with　violets；　a　little　coffer　of　ebony；　an　antique　mirror；　an　immense

and　very　old　arm　chair　also　in　ebony　and　covered　with　tapestry；　a

table　with　twisted　legs；　a　pretty　carpet　on　the　floor；　near　the　table

a　single　chair；　and　that　was　all。　On　the　table；　however；　were　flowers

and　embroidery；　in　a　recess　at　the　farther　end　of　the　room　was　the

narrow　little　bed　where　Juana　dreamed。　Above　the　bed　were　three

pictures；　and　near　the　pillow　a　crucifix；　with　a　holy　water　basin　and

a　prayer；　printed　in　letters　of　gold　and　framed。　Flowers　exhaled　their

perfume　faintly；　the　candles　cast　a　tender　light；　all　was　calm　and

pure　and　sacred。　The　dreamy　thoughts　of　Juana；　but　above　all　Juana

herself；　had　communicated　to　all　things　her　own　peculiar　charm；　her

soul　appeared　to　shine　there；　like　the　pearl　in　its　matrix。　Juana；

dressed　in　white；　beautiful　with　naught　but　her　own　beauty；　laying

down　her　rosary　to　answer　love；　might　have　inspired　respect；　even　in　a

Montefiore；　if　the　silence；　if　the　night；　if　Juana　herself　had　not

seemed　so　amorous。　Montefiore　stood　still；　intoxicated　with　an　unknown

happiness；　possibly　that　of　Satan　beholding　heaven　through　a　rift　of

the　clouds　which　form　its　enclosure。



〃As　soon　as　I　saw　you；〃　he　said　in　pure　Tuscan；　and　in　the　modest　tone

of　voice　so　peculiarly　Italian；　〃I　loved　you。　My　soul　and　my　life　are

now　in　you；　and　in　you　they　will　be　forever；　if　you　will　have　it　so。〃



Juana　listened；　inhaling　from　the　atmosphere　the　sound　of　these　words

which　the　accents　of　love　made　magnificent。



〃Poor　child！　how　have　you　breathed　so　long　the　air　of　this　dismal

house　without　dying　of　it？　You；　made　to　reign　in　the　world；　to　inhabit

the　palace　of　a　prince；　to　live　in　the　midst　of　fetes；　to　feel　the

joys　which　love　bestows；　to　see　the　world　at　your　feet；　to　efface　all

other　beauty　by　your　own　which　can　have　no　rivalyou；　to　live　here；

solitary；　with　those　two　shopkeepers！〃



Adroit　question！　He　wished　to　know　if　Juana　had　a　lover。



〃True；〃　she　replied。　〃But　who　can　have　told　you　my　secret　thoughts？

For　the　last　few　months　I　have　nearly　died　of　sadness。　Yes；　I　would

RATHER　die　than　stay　longer　in　this　house。　Look　at　that　embroidery；

there　is　not　a　stitch　there　which　I　did　not　set　with　dreadful

thoughts。　How　many　times　I　have　thought　of　escaping　to　fling　myself

into　the　sea！　Why？　I　don't　know　why；little　childish　troubles；　but

very　keen；　though　they　are　so　silly。　Often　I　have　kissed　my　mother　at

night　as　one　would　kiss　a　mother　for　the　last　time；　saying　in　my

heart：　'To…morrow　I　will　kill　myself。'　But　I　do　not　die。　Suicides　go

to　hell；　you　know；　and　I　am　so　afraid　of　hell　that　I　resign　myself　to

live；　to　get　up　in　the　morning　and　go　to　bed　at　night；　and　work　the

same　hours；　and　do　the　same　things。　I　am　not　so　weary　of　it；　but　I

sufferAnd　yet；　my　father　and　mother　adore　me。　Oh！　I　am　bad；　I　am

bad；　I　say　so　to　my　confessor。〃



〃Do　you　always　live　here　alone；　without　amusement；　without　pleasures？〃



〃Oh！　I　have　not　always　been　like　this。　Till　I　was　fifteen　the

festivals　of　the　church；　the　chants；　the　music　gave　me　pleasure。　I　was

happy；　feeling　myself　like　the　angels　without　sin　and　able　to

communicate　every　weekI　loved　God　then。　But　for　the　last　three

years；　from　day　to　day；　all　things　have　changed。　First；　I　wanted

flowers　hereand　I　have　them；　lovely　flowers！　Then　I　wantedbut　I

want　nothing　now；〃　she　added；　after　a　pause；　smiling　at　Montefiore。

〃Have　you　not　said　that　you　would　love　me　always？〃



〃Yes；　my　Juana；〃　cried　Montefiore；　softly；　taking　her　round　the　waist

and　pressing　her　to　his　heart；　〃yes。　But　let　me　speak　to　you　as　you

speak　to　God。　Are　you　not　as　beautiful　as　Mary　in　heaven？　Listen。　I

swear　to　you；〃　he　continued；　kissing　her　hair；　〃I　swear　to　take　that

forehead　for　my　altar；　to　make　you　my　idol；　to　lay　at　your　feet　all

the　luxuries　of　the　world。　For　you；　my　palace　at　Milan；　for　you　my

horses；　my　jewels；　the　diamonds　of　my　ancient　family；　for　you；　each

day；　fresh　jewels；　a　thousand　pleasures；　and　all　the　joys　of　earth！〃



〃Yes；〃　she　said　reflectively；　〃I　would　like　that；　but　I　feel　within　my

soul　that　I　would　like　better　than　all　the　world　my　husband。　Mio　caro

sposo！〃　she　said；　as　if　it　were　impossible　to　give　in　any　other

language　the　infinite　tenderness；　the　loving　elegance　with　which　the

Italian　tongue　and　accent　clothe　those　delightful　words。　Besides；

Italian　was　Juana's　maternal　language。



〃I　should　find；〃　she　continued；　with　a　glance　at　Montefiore　in　which

shone　the　purity　of　the　cherubim；　〃I　should　find　in　HIM　my　dear

religion；　him　and　GodGod　and　him。　Is　he　to　be　you？〃　she　said。　〃Yes；

surely　it　will　be　you；〃　she　cried；　after　a　pause。　〃Come；　and　see　the

picture　my　father　brought　me　from　Italy。〃



She　took　a　candle；　made　a　sign　to　Montefiore；　and　showed　him　at　the

foot　of　her　bed　a　Saint　Michael　overthrowing　the　demon。



〃Look！〃　she　said；　〃has　he　not　your　eyes？　When　I　saw　you　from　my　window

in　the　street；　our　meeting　seemed　to　me　a　sign　from　heaven。　Every　day

during　my　morning　meditation；　while　waiting　for　my　mother　to　call　me

to　prayer；　I　have　so　gazed　at　that　picture；　that　angel；　that　I　have

ended　by　thinking　him　my　husbandoh！　heavens；　I　speak　to　you　as

though　you　were　myself。　I　must　seem　crazy　to　you；　but　if　you　only　knew

how　a　poor　captive　wants　to　tell　the　thoughts　that　choke　her！　When

alone；　I　talk　to　my　flowers；　to　my　tapestry；　they　can　understand　me

better；　I　think；　than　my　father　and　mother；　who　are　so　grave。〃



〃Juana；〃　said　Montefiore；　taking　her　hands　and　kissing　them　with　the

passion　that　gushed　in　his　eyes；　in　his　gestures；　in　the　tones　of　his

voice；　〃speak　to　me　as　your　husband；　as　yourself。　I　have　suffered　all

that　you　have　suffered。　Between　us　two　few　words　are　needed　to　make　us

comprehend　our　past；　but　there　will　never　be　enough　to　express　our

coming　happiness。　Lay　your　hand　upon　my　heart。　Feel　how　it　beats。　Let

us　promise　before　God；　who　sees　and　hears　us；　to　be　faithful　to　each

other　throughout　our　lives。　Here；　take　my　ringand　give　me　yours。〃



〃Give　you　my　ring！〃　she　said　in　terror。



〃Why　not？〃　asked　Montefiore；　uneasy　at　such　artlessness。



〃But　our　holy　father　the　Pope　has　blessed　it；　it　was　put　upon　my

finger　in　childhood　by　a　beautiful　lady　who　took　care　of　me；　and　who

told　me　never　to　part　with　it。〃



〃Juana；　you　cannot　love　me！〃



〃Ah！〃　she　said；　〃here　it　is；　take　it。　You；　are　you　not　another

myself？〃



She　held　out　the　ring　with　a　trembling　hand；　holding　it　tightly　as　she

looked　at　Montefiore　with　a　clear　and　penetrating　eye　that　questioned

him。　That　ring！　all　of　herself　was　in　it；　but　she　gave　it　to　him。