massimilla doni-第6章
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is blue and green； but as a sapphire is blue； as an emerald is green。
Well； nothing in the world can give such an idea of depth； peace；
immensity； heavenly love； and eternal happinessto the most heedless
traveler； the most hurried courier； the most commonplace tradesmanas
this liquid diamond into which the snow； gathering from the highest
Alps； trickles through a natural channel hidden under the trees and
eaten through the rock； escaping below through a gap without a sound。
The watery sheet overhanging the fall glides so gently that no ripple
is to be seen on the surface which mirrors the chaise as you drive
past。 The postboy smacks his whip； you turn past a crag； you cross a
bridge： suddenly there is a terrific uproar of cascades tumbling
together one upon another。 The water； taking a mighty leap； is broken
into a hundred falls； dashed to spray on the boulders； it sparkles in
a myriad jets against a mass that has fallen from the heights that
tower over the ravine exactly in the middle of the road that has been
so irresistibly cut by the most formidable of active forces。
If you have formed a clear idea of this landscape； you will see in
those sleeping waters the image of Emilio's love for the Duchess； and
in the cascades leaping like a flock of sheep； an idea of his passion
shared with la Tinti。 In the midst of his torrent of love a rock stood
up against which the torrent broke。 The Prince； like Sisyphus； was
constantly under the stone。
〃What on earth does the Duke do with a violin？〃 he wondered。 〃Do I owe
this symphony to him？〃
He asked Clara Tinti。
〃My dear child；〃for she saw that Emilio was but a child；〃dear
child；〃 said she； 〃that man； who is a hundred and eighteen in the
parish register of vice； and only forty…seven in the register of the
Church； has but one single joy left to him in life。 Yes； everything is
broken； everything in him is ruin or rags； his soul； intellect； heart；
nerves；everything in man that can supply an impulse and remind him
of heaven； either by desire or enjoyment； is bound up with music； or
rather with one of the many effects produced by music； the perfect
unison of two voices； or of a voice with the top string of his violin。
The old ape sits on my knee； takes his instrument；he plays fairly
well；he produces the notes； and I try to imitate them。 Then； when
the long…sought…for moment comes when it is impossible to distinguish
in the body of sound which is the note on the violin and which
proceeds from my throat； the old man falls into an ecstasy； his dim
eyes light up with their last remaining fires； he is quite happy and
will roll on the floor like a drunken man。
〃That is why he pays Genovese such a price。 Genovese is the only tenor
whose voice occasionally sounds in unison with mine。 Either we really
do sing exactly together once or twice in an evening； or the Duke
imagines that we do； and for that imaginary pleasure he has bought
Genovese。 Genovese belongs to him。 No theatrical manager can engage
that tenor without me； nor have me to sing without him。 The Duke
brought me up on purpose to gratify that whim； to him I owe my talent；
my beauty；my fortune； no doubt。 He will die of an attack of perfect
unison。 The sense of hearing alone has survived the wreck of his
faculties； that is the only thread by which he holds on to life。 A
vigorous shoot springs from that rotten stump。 There are； I am told；
many men in the same predicament。 May Madonna preserve them！
〃You have not come to that！ You can do all you wantall I want of
you； I know。〃
Towards morning the Prince stole away and found Carmagnola lying
asleep across the door。
〃Altezza；〃 said the gondolier； 〃the Duchess ordered me to give you
this note。〃
He held out a dainty sheet of paper folded into a triangle。 The Prince
felt dizzy； he went back into the room and dropped into a chair； for
his sight was dim； and his hands shook as he read：
〃DEAR EMILIO：Your gondola stopped at your palazzo。 Did you not
know that Cataneo has taken it for la Tinti？ If you love me； go
to…night to Vendramin； who tells me he has a room ready for you in
his house。 What shall I do？ Can I remain in Venice to see my
husband and his opera singer？ Shall we go back together to Friuli？
Write me one word； if only to tell me what the letter was you
tossed into the lagoon。
〃MASSIMILLA DONI。〃
The writing and the scent of the paper brought a thousand memories
back to the young Venetian's mind。 The sun of a single…minded passion
threw its radiance on the blue depths come from so far； collected in a
bottomless pool； and shining like a star。 The noble youth could not
restrain the tears that flowed freely from his eyes； for in the
languid state produced by satiated senses he was disarmed by the
thought of that purer divinity。
Even in her sleep Clarina heard his weeping； she sat up in bed； saw
her Prince in a dejected attitude； and threw herself at his knees。
〃They are still waiting for the answer；〃 said Carmagnola； putting the
curtain aside。
〃Wretch； you have undone me！〃 cried Emilio； starting up and spurning
Clarina with his foot。
She clutched it so lovingly； her look imploring some explanation；the
look of a tear…stained Samaritan；that Emilio； enraged to find
himself still in the toils of the passion that had wrought his fall；
pushed away the singer with an unmanly kick。
〃You told me to kill you；then die； venomous reptile！〃 he exclaimed。
He left the palace； and sprang into his gondola。
〃Pull；〃 said he to Carmagnola。
〃Where？〃 asked the old servant。
〃Where you will。〃
The gondolier divined his master's wishes； and by many windings
brought him at last into the Canareggio； to the door of a wonderful
palazzo； which you will admire when you see Venice； for no traveler
ever fails to stop in front of those windows； each of a different
design； vying with each other in fantastic ornament； with balconies
like lace…work； to study the corners finishing in tall and slender
twisted columns； the string…courses wrought by so inventive a chisel
that no two shapes are alike in the arabesques on the stones。
How charming is that doorway！ how mysterious the vaulted arcade
leading to the stairs！ Who could fail to admire the steps on which
ingenious art has laid a carpet that will last while Venice stands；a
carpet as rich as if wrought in Turkey； but composed of marbles in
endless variety of shapes； inlaid in white marble。 You will delight in
the charming ornament of the colonnades of the upper story；gilt like
those of a ducal palace；so that the marvels of art are both under
your feet and above your head。
What delicate shadows！ How silent； how cool！ But how solemn； too； was
that old palace！ where； to delight Emilio and his friend Vendramin；
the Duchess had collected antique Venetian furniture； and employed
skilled hands to restore the ceilings。 There； old Venice lived again。
The splendor was not merely noble； it was instructive。 The
archaeologist would have found there such models of perfection as the
middle ages produced； having taken example from Venice。 Here were to
be seen the original ceilings of woodwork covered with scrolls and
flowers in gold on a colored ground； or in colors on gold； and
ceilings of gilt plaster castings； with a picture of many figures in
each corner； with a splendid fresco in the centre；a style so costly
that there are not two in the Louvre； and that the extravagance of
Louis XIV。 shrunk from such expense at Versailles。 On all sides
marble； wood； and silk had served as materials for exquisite
workmanship。
Emilio pushed open a carved oak door； made his way down the long；
vaulted passage which runs from end to end on each floor of a Venetian
palazzo； and stopped before another door； so familiar that it made his
heart beat。 On seeing him； a lady companion came out of a vast
drawing…room； and admitted him to a study where he found the Duchess
on her knees in front of a Madonna。
He had come to confess and ask forgiveness。 Massimilla； in prayer； had
converted him。 He and God； nothing else dwelt in that heart。
The Duchess rose very unaffectedly； and held out her hand。 Her lover
did not take it。
〃Did not
