massimilla doni-第7章
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The Duchess rose very unaffectedly； and held out her hand。 Her lover
did not take it。
〃Did not Gianbattista see you； yesterday？〃 she asked。
〃No；〃 he replied。
〃That piece of ill…luck gave me a night of misery。 I was so afraid
lest you might meet the Duke； whose perversity I know too well。 What
made Vendramin let your palace to him？〃
〃It was a good idea； Milla； for your Prince is poor enough。〃
Massimilla was so beautiful in her trust of him； and so wonderfully
lovely； so happy in Emilio's presence； that at this moment the Prince；
wide awake； experienced the sensations of the horrible dream that
torments persons of a lively imagination； in which after arriving in a
ballroom full of women in full dress； the dreamer is suddenly aware
that he is naked； without even a shirt； shame and terror possess him
by turns； and only waking can relieve him from his misery。 Thus stood
Emilio's soul in the presence of his mistress。 Hitherto that soul had
known only the fairest flowers of feeling； a debauch had plunged it
into dishonor。 This none knew but he； for the beautiful Florentine
ascribed so many virtues to her lover that the man she adored could
not but be incapable of any stain。
As Emilio had not taken her hand； the Duchess pushed her fingers
through his hair that the singer had kissed。 Then she perceived that
Emilio's hand was clammy and his brow moist。
〃What ails you？〃 she asked； in a voice to which tenderness gave the
sweetness of a flute。
〃Never till this moment have I known how much I love you；〃 he replied。
〃Well； dear idol； what would you have？〃 said she。
〃What have I done to make her ask that？〃 he wondered to himself。
〃Emilio； what letter was that which you threw into the lagoon？〃
〃Vendramini's。 I had not read it to the end； or I should never have
gone to my palazzo； and there have met the Duke； for no doubt it told
me all about it。〃
Massimilla turned pale； but a caress from Emilio reassured her。
〃Stay with me all day； we will go to the opera together。 We will not
set out for Friuli； your presence will no doubt enable me to endure
Cataneo's；〃 said Massimilla。
Though this would be torment to her lover's soul； he consented with
apparent joy。
If anything can give us a foretaste of what the damned will suffer on
finding themselves so unworthy of God； is it not the state of a young
man； as yet unpolluted； in the presence of a mistress he reveres；
while he still feels on his lips the taste of infidelity； and brings
into the sanctuary of the divinity he worships the tainted atmosphere
of the courtesan？
Baader； who in his lectures eliminated things divine by erotic
imagery； had no doubt observed； like some Catholic writers； the
intimate resemblance between human and heavenly love。
This distress of mind cast a hue of melancholy over the pleasure the
young Venetian felt in his mistress' presence。 A woman's instinct has
amazing aptitude for harmony of feeling； it assumes the hue； it
vibrates to the note suggested by her lover。 The pungent flavor of
coquettish spice is far indeed from spurring affection so much as this
gentle sympathy of tenderness。 The smartness of a coquette too clearly
marks opposition； however transient it is displeasing； but this
intimate comprehension shows a perfect fusion of souls。 The hapless
Emilio was touched by the unspoken divination which led the Duchess to
pity a fault unknown to her。
Massimilla； feeling that her strength lay in the absence of any
sensual side to her love； could allow herself to be expansive； she
boldly and confidently poured out her angelic spirit； she stripped it
bare； just as during that diabolical night； La Tinti had displayed the
soft lines of her body； and her firm； elastic flesh。 In Emilio's eyes
there was as it were a conflict between the saintly love of this white
soul and that of the vehement and muscular Sicilian。
The day was spent in long looks following on deep meditations。 Each of
them gauged the depths of tender feeling； and found it bottomless； a
conviction that brought fond words to their lips。 Modesty； the goddess
who in a moment of forgetfulness with Love； was the mother of
Coquettishness； need not have put her hand before her face as she
looked at these lovers。 As a crowning joy； an orgy of happiness；
Massimilla pillowed Emilio's head in her arms； and now and then
ventured to press her lips to his； but only as a bird dips its beak
into the clear waters of a spring； looking round lest it should be
seen。 Their fancy worked upon this kiss； as a composer develops a
subject by the endless resources of music； and it produced in them
such tumultuous and vibrating echoes as fevered their blood。
The Idea must always be stronger than the Fact； otherwise desire would
be less perfect than satisfaction； and it is in fact the stronger；it
gives birth to wit。 And； indeed； they were perfectly happy； for
enjoyment must always take something off happiness。 Married in heaven
alone； these two lovers admired each other in their purest aspect；
that of two souls incandescent； and united in celestial light； radiant
to the eyes that faith has touched； and； above all； filled with the
rapture which the brush of a Raphael； a Titian； a Murillo； has
depicted； and which those who have ever known it； taste again as they
gaze at those paintings。 Do not such peerless spirits scorn the
coarser joys lavished by the Sicilian singerthe material expression
of that angelic union？
These noble thoughts were in the Prince's mind as he reposed in
heavenly calm on Massimilla's cool； soft； white bosom； under the
gentle radiance of her eyes veiled by long； bright lashes； and he gave
himself up to this dream of an ideal orgy。 At such a moment；
Massimilla was as one of the Virgin visions seen in dreams； which
vanish at cock…crow； but whom we recognize when we find them again in
their realm of glory；in the works of some great painters of Heaven。
In the evening the lovers went to the theatre。 This is the way of
Italian life： love in the morning； music in the evening； the night for
sleep。 How far preferable is this existence to that of a country where
every one expends his lungs and strength in politics； without
contributing any more； single…minded； to the progress of affairs than
a grain of sand can make a cloud of dust。 Liberty； in those strange
lands； consists in the right to squabble over public concerns； to take
care of oneself； to waste time in patriotic undertakings each more
futile than the last； inasmuch as they all weaken that noble； holy
self…concern which is the parent of all great human achievement。 At
Venice； on the contrary； love and its myriad ties； the sweet business
of real happiness； fills up all the time。
In that country； love is so much a matter of course that the Duchess
was regarded as a wonder； for； in spite of her violent attachment to
Emilio； everybody was confident of her immaculate purity。 And women
gave their sincere pity to the poor young man； who was regarded as a
victim to the virtue of his lady…love。 At the same time； no one cared
to blame the Duchess； for in Italy religion is a power as much
respected as love。
Evening after evening Massimilla's box was the first object of every
opera…glass； and each woman would say to her lover； as she studied the
Duchess and her adorer：
〃How far have they got？〃
The lover would examine Emilio； seeking some evidence of success；
would find no expression but that of a pure and dejected passion。 And
throughout the house； as they visited from box to box； the men would
say to the ladies：
〃La Cataneo is not yet Emilio's。〃
〃She is unwise；〃 said the old women。 〃She will tire him out。〃
〃/Forse！/〃 （Perhaps） the young wives would reply； with the solemn
accent that Italians can infuse into that great wordthe answer to
many questions here below。
Some women were indignant； thought the whole thing ill…judged； and
declared that it was a misapprehension of religion to allow it to
smother love。
〃My dear； love that poor Emilio；〃 said the Signora Vulpato to
Massimilla； as they met on the stairs in going out。
〃I do love him with all my might；〃 replied the Duchess。
〃Then why does not he look
