massimilla doni-第2章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



At　eleven　in　the　forenoon；　after　a　walk；　and　by　the　side　of　a　table
still　strewn　with　the　remains　of　an　elegant　breakfast；　the　Duchess；
lounging　in　an　easy…chair；　left　her　lover　the　master　of　these　muslin
draperies；　without　a　frown　each　time　he　moved。　Emilio；　seated　at　her
side；　held　one　of　her　hands　between　his；　gazing　at　her　with　utter
absorption。　Ask　not　whether　they　loved；　they　loved　only　too　well。　They
were　not　reading　out　of　the　same　book；　like　Paolo　and　Francesca；　far
from　it；　Emilio　dared　not　say：　〃Let　us　read。〃　The　gleam　of　those　eyes；
those　glistening　gray　irises　streaked　with　threads　of　gold　that
started　from　the　centre　like　rifts　of　light；　giving　her　gaze　a　soft；
star…like　radiance；　thrilled　him　with　nervous　rapture　that　was　almost
a　spasm。　Sometimes　the　mere　sight　of　the　splendid　black　hair　that
crowned　the　adored　head；　bound　by　a　simple　gold　fillet；　and　falling　in
satin　tresses　on　each　side　of　a　spacious　brow；　was　enough　to　give　him
a　ringing　in　his　ears；　the　wild　tide　of　the　blood　rushing　through　his
veins　as　if　it　must　burst　his　heart。　By　what　obscure　phenomenon　did
his　soul　so　overmaster　his　body　that　he　was　no　longer　conscious　of　his
independent　self；　but　was　wholly　one　with　this　woman　at　the　least　word
she　spoke　in　that　voice　which　disturbed　the　very　sources　of　life　in
him？　If；　in　utter　seclusion；　a　woman　of　moderate　charms　can；　by　being
constantly　studied；　seem　supreme　and　imposing；　perhaps　one　so
magnificently　handsome　as　the　Duchess　could　fascinate　to　stupidity　a
youth　in　whom　rapture　found　some　fresh　incitement；　for　she　had　really
absorbed　his　young　soul。

Massimilla；　the　heiress　of　the　Doni；　of　Florence；　had　married　the
Sicilian　Duke　Cataneo。　Her　mother；　since　dead；　had　hoped；　by　promoting
this　marriage；　to　leave　her　rich　and　happy；　according　to　Florentine
custom。　She　had　concluded　that　her　daughter；　emerging　from　a　convent
to　embark　in　life；　would　achieve；　under　the　laws　of　love；　that　second
union　of　heart　with　heart　which；　to　an　Italian　woman；　is　all　in　all。
But　Massimilla　Doni　had　acquired　in　her　convent　a　real　taste　for　a
religious　life；　and；　when　she　had　pledged　her　troth　to　Duke　Cataneo；
she　was　Christianly　content　to　be　his　wife。

This　was　an　untenable　position。　Cataneo；　who　only　looked　for　a
duchess；　thought　himself　ridiculous　as　a　husband；　and；　when　Massimilla
complained　of　this　indifference；　he　calmly　bid　her　look　about　her　for
a　/cavaliere　servente/；　even　offering　his　services　to　introduce　to　her
some　youths　from　whom　to　choose。　The　Duchess　wept；　the　Duke　made　his
bow。

Massimilla　looked　about　her　at　the　world　that　crowded　round　her；　her
mother　took　her　to　the　Pergola；　to　some　ambassadors'　drawing…rooms；　to
the　Cascinewherever　handsome　young　men　of　fashion　were　to　be　met；
she　saw　none　to　her　mind；　and　determined　to　travel。　Then　she　lost　her
mother；　inherited　her　property；　assumed　mourning；　and　made　her　way　to
Venice。　There　she　saw　Emilio；　who；　as　he　went　past　her　opera　box；
exchanged　with　her　a　flash　of　inquiry。

This　was　all。　The　Venetian　was　thunderstruck；　while　a　voice　in　the
Duchess'　ear　called　out：　〃This　is　he！〃

Anywhere　else　two　persons　more　prudent　and　less　guileless　would　have
studied　and　examined　each　other；　but　these　two　ignorances　mingled　like
two　masses　of　homogeneous　matter；　which；　when　they　meet；　form　but　one。
Massimilla　was　at　once　and　thenceforth　Venetian。　She　bought　the
palazzo　she　had　rented　on　the　Canareggio；　and　then；　not　knowing　how　to
invest　her　wealth；　she　had　purchased　Rivalta；　the　country…place　where
she　was　now　staying。

Emilio；　being　introduced　to　the　Duchess　by　the　Signora　Vulpato；　waited
very　respectfully　on　the　lady　in　her　box　all　through　the　winter。　Never
was　love　more　ardent　in　two　souls；　or　more　bashful　in　its　advances。
The　two　children　were　afraid　of　each　other。　Massimilla　was　no
coquette。　She　had　no　second　string　to　her　bow；　no　/secondo/；　no
/terzo/；　no　/patito/。　Satisfied　with　a　smile　and　a　word；　she　admired
her　Venetian　youth；　with　his　pointed　face；　his　long；　thin　nose；　his
black　eyes；　and　noble　brow；　but；　in　spite　of　her　artless
encouragement；　he　never　went　to　her　house　till　they　had　spent　three
months　in　getting　used　to　each　other。

Then　summer　brought　its　Eastern　sky。　The　Duchess　lamented　having　to　go
alone　to　Rivalta。　Emilio；　at　once　happy　and　uneasy　at　the　thought　of
being　alone　with　her；　had　accompanied　Massimilla　to　her　retreat。　And
now　this　pretty　pair　had　been　there　for　six　months。

Massimilla；　now　twenty；　had　not　sacrificed　her　religious　principles　to
her　passion　without　a　struggle。　Still　they　had　yielded；　though
tardily；　and　at　this　moment　she　would　have　been　ready　to　consummate
the　love　union　for　which　her　mother　had　prepared　her；　as　Emilio　sat
there　holding　her　beautiful；　aristocratic　hand；long；　white；　and
sheeny；　ending　in　fine；　rosy　nails；　as　if　she　had　procured　from　Asia
some　of　the　henna　with　which　the　Sultan's　wives　dye　their　fingertips。

A　misfortune；　of　which　she　was　unconscious；　but　which　was　torture　to
Emilio；　kept　up　a　singular　barrier　between　them。　Massimilla；　young　as
she　was；　had　the　majestic　bearing　which　mythological　tradition
ascribes　to　Juno；　the　only　goddess　to　whom　it　does　not　give　a　lover；
for　Diana；　the　chaste　Diana；　loved！　Jupiter　alone　could　hold　his　own
with　his　divine　better…half；　on　whom　many　English　ladies　model
themselves。

Emilio　set　his　mistress　far　too　high　ever　to　touch　her。　A　year　hence；
perhaps；　he　might　not　be　a　victim　to　this　noble　error　which　attacks
none　but　very　young　or　very　old　men。　But　as　the　archer　who　shoots
beyond　the　mark　is　as　far　from　it　as　he　whose　arrow　falls　short　of　it；
the　Duchess　found　herself　between　a　husband　who　knew　he　was　so　far
from　reaching　the　target；　that　he　had　ceased　to　try　for　it；　and　a
lover　who　was　carried　so　much　past　it　on　the　white　wings　of　an　angel；
that　he　could　not　get　back　to　it。　Massimilla　could　be　happy　with
desire；　not　imagining　its　issue；　but　her　lover；　distressful　in　his
happiness；　would　sometimes　obtain　from　his　beloved　a　promise　that　led
her　to　the　edge　of　what　many　women　call　〃the　gulf；〃　and　thus　found
himself　obliged　to　be　satisfied　with　plucking　the　flowers　at　the　edge；
incapable　of　daring　more　than　to　pull　off　their　petals；　and　smother
his　torture　in　his　heart。

They　had　wandered　out　together　that　morning；　repeating　such　a　hymn　of
love　as　the　birds　warbled　in　the　branches。　On　their　return；　the　youth；
whose　situation　can　only　be　described　by　comparing　him　to　the　cherubs
represented　by　painters　as　having　only　a　head　and　wings；　had　been　so
impassioned　as　to　venture　to　hint　a　doubt　as　to　the　Duchess'　entire
devotion；　so　as　to　bring　her　to　the　point　of　saying：　〃What　proof　do
you　need？〃

The　question　had　been　asked　with　a　royal　air；　and　Memmi　had　ardently
kissed　the　beautiful　and　guileless　hand。　Then　he　suddenly　started　up
in　a　rage　with　himself；　and　left　the　Duchess。　Massimilla　remained　in
her　indolent　attitude　on　the　sofa；　but　she　wept；　wondering　how；　young
and　handsome　as　she　was；　she　could　fail　to　please　Emilio。　Memmi；　on
the　other　hand；　knocked　his　head　against　the　tree…trunks　like　a　hooded
crow。

But　at　this　moment　a　servant　came　in　pursuit　of　the　young　Venetian　to
deliver　a　letter　brought　by　express　messenger。

Marco　Vendramini；a　name　also　pronounced　Vendramin；　in　the　Venetian
dialect；　which　drops　many　final　letters；his　only　friend；　wrote　to
tell　him　that　Facino　Cane；　Prince　of　Varese；　had　died　in　a　hospital　in
Paris。　Proofs　of　his　death　had　come　to　hand；　and　the　Cane…Memmi　were
Princes　of　Varese。　In　the　eyes　of　the　two　young　men　a　title　without
wealth　being　worthless；　Vendramin　also　informed　Emilio；　as　a　far　more
important　fact；　of　the　engagement　at　the　/Fenice/　of　the　famous　tenor
Genovese；　and　the　no　less　famous　Signora　Tinti。

Without　waiting　to　finish　the　letter；　which　he　crumpled　up　and　put　in
his　pocket；　Emilio　ran　to　communicate　this　great　news　to　the　Duchess；
forgetting　his　heraldic　honors。

The　Duchess　knew　nothing　of　the　strange　story　which　made　la　Tinti　an
object　of　curiosity　in　Italy；　and　Emilio　briefly　repeated　it。

This　illustrious　singer　had　been　a　mere　inn…servant；　whose　wonderful
voice　had　captivated　a　g