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diff --git a/2706-h/2706-h.htm b/2706-h/2706-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b600df --- /dev/null +++ b/2706-h/2706-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4512 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Bravo of Venice, by Heinrich Zschokke</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + p.gutindent { margin-left: 2em; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} + div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + div.gapmediumdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Bravo of Venice, by Heinrich Zschokke, +Edited by Henry Morley, Translated by M. G. Lewis + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: The Bravo of Venice + A Romance + + +Author: Heinrich Zschokke + +Editor: Henry Morley + +Release Date: September 27, 2014 [eBook #2706] +[This file was first posted on June 30, 2000] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRAVO OF VENICE*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1886 Cassell & Company edition by +David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/coverb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Book cover" +title= +"Book cover" + src="images/covers.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p style="text-align: center">CASSELL’S NATIONAL +LIBRARY.</p> + +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<h1><span class="GutSmall">THE</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Bravo of Venice</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">A ROMANCE.</span></h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">TRANSLATED +FROM THE GERMAN</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">BY</span><br +/> +M. G. LEWIS.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/tpb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Decorative graphic" +title= +"Decorative graphic" + src="images/tps.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p style="text-align: center">CASSELL & COMPANY, <span +class="smcap">Limited</span>:<br /> +<span class="GutSmall"><i>LONDON</i></span><span +class="GutSmall">, </span><span +class="GutSmall"><i>PARIS</i></span><span class="GutSmall">, +</span><span class="GutSmall"><i>NEW YORK & +MELBOURNE</i></span><span class="GutSmall">.</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">1886.</span></p> +<h2>INTRODUCTION.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew Gregory Lewis</span>, who +professed to have translated this romance out of the German, very +much, I believe, as Horace Walpole professed to have taken <i>The +Castle of Otranto</i> from an old Italian manuscript, was born in +1775 of a wealthy family. His father had an estate in India +and a post in a Government office. His mother was daughter +to Sir Thomas Sewell, Master of the Rolls in the reign of George +III. She was a young mother; her son Matthew was devoted to +her from the first. As a child he called her +“Fanny,” and as a man held firmly by her when she was +deserted by her husband. From Westminster School, M. G. +Lewis passed to Christ Church, Oxford. Already he was busy +over tales and plays, and wrote at college a farce, never acted, +a comedy, written at the age of sixteen, <i>The East Indian</i>, +afterwards played for Mrs. Jordan’s benefit and repeated +with great success, and also a novel, never published, called +<i>The Effusions of Sensibility</i>, which was a burlesque upon +the sentimental school. He wrote also what he called +“a romance in the style of <i>The Castle of +Otranto</i>,” which appeared afterwards as the play of +<i>The Castle Spectre</i>.</p> +<p>With his mind thus interested in literature of the romantic +form, young Lewis, aged seventeen, after a summer in Paris, went +to Germany, settled for a time at Weimar, and, as he told his +mother, knocked his brains against German as hard as ever he +could. “I have been introduced,” he wrote, in +July, 1792, “to M. de Goethe, the celebrated author of +<i>Werter</i>, so you must not be surprised if I should shoot +myself one of these fine mornings.” In the spring of +1793 the youth returned to England, very full of German romantic +tale and song, and with more paper covered with wild fancies of +his own. After the next Christmas he returned to +Oxford. There was a visit to Lord Douglas at Bothwell +Castle; there was not much academic work done at Oxford. +His father’s desire was to train him for the diplomatic +service, and in the summer of 1794 he went to the Hague as +attaché to the British Embassy. He had begun to +write his novel of <i>The Monk</i>, had flagged, but was spurred +on at the Hague by a reading of Mrs. Radcliffe’s +<i>Mysteries of Udolpho</i>, a book after his own heart, and he +wrote to his mother at this time, “You see I am horribly +bit by the rage of writing.”</p> +<p><i>The Monk</i> was written in ten weeks, and published in the +summer of 1795, before its author’s age was twenty. +It was praised, attacked, said by one review to have neither +originality, morals, nor probability to recommend it, yet to have +excited and to be continuing to excite the curiosity of the +public: a result set down to the “irresistible energy of +genius.” Certainly, Lewis did not trouble himself to +keep probability in view; he amused himself with wild play of a +fancy that delighted in the wonderful. The controversy over +<i>The Monk</i> caused the young author to be known as Monk +Lewis, and the word Monk has to this day taken the place of the +words Matthew Gregory so generally, that many catalogue-makers +must innocently suppose him to have been so named at the +font. The author of <i>The Monk</i> came back from the +Hague to be received as a young lion in London society. +When he came of age he entered Parliament for Hindon, in +Wiltshire, but seldom went to the House, never spoke in it, and +retired after a few sessions. His delight was in the use of +the pen; his father, although disappointed by his failure as a +statesman, allowed him a thousand a year, and he took a cottage +at Barnes, that he might there escape from the world to his +ink-bottle. He was a frequent visitor at Inverary Castle, +and was fascinated by his host’s daughter, Lady Charlotte +Campbell. Still he wrote on. The musical drama of +<i>The Castle Spectre</i> was produced in the year after <i>The +Monk</i>, and it ran sixty nights. He translated next +Schiller’s <i>Kabale und Liebe</i> as <i>The Minister</i>, +but it was not acted till it appeared, with little success, some +years afterwards at Covent Garden as <i>The Harper’s +Daughter</i>. He translated from Kotzebue, under the name +of <i>Rolla</i>, the drama superseded by Sheridan’s version +of the same work as <i>Pizarro</i>. Then came the acting, +in 1799, of his comedy written in boyhood, <i>The East +Indian</i>. Then came, in the same year, his first opera, +<i>Adelmorn the Outlaw</i>; then a tragedy, <i>Alfonso</i>, +<i>King of Castile</i>. Of the origin of this tragedy Lewis +gave a characteristic account. “Hearing one +day,” he said, “my introduction of negroes into a +feudal baron’s castle” (in <i>The Castle Spectre</i>) +“exclaimed against with as much vehemence as if a dramatic +anachronism had been an offence undeserving of benefit of clergy, +I said in a moment of petulance, that to prove of how little +consequence I esteemed such errors, I would make a play upon the +Gunpowder Plot, and make Guy Faux in love with the Emperor +Charlemagne’s daughter. By some chance or other, this +idea fastened itself upon me, and by dint of turning it in my +mind, I at length formed the plot of <i>Alfonso</i>.”</p> +<p>To that time in Lewis’s life belongs this book, <i>The +Bravo of Venice</i>; which was published in 1804, when the +writer’s age was twenty-nine. It was written at +Inverary Castle, dedicated to the Earl of Moira, and received as +one of the most perfect little romances of its kind, +“highly characteristic of the exquisite contrivance, bold +colouring, and profound mystery of the German +school.” In 1805 Lewis recast it into a melodrama, +which he called <i>Rugantino</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">H.M.</p> +<h2>Book the First.</h2> +<h3>CHAPTER I.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">VENICE.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was evening. Multitudes of +light clouds, partially illumined by the moonbeams, overspread +the horizon, and through them floated the full moon in tranquil +majesty, while her splendour was reflected by every wave of the +Adriatic Sea. All was hushed around; gently was the water +rippled by the night wind; gently did the night wind sigh through +the Colonnades of Venice.</p> +<p>It was midnight; and still sat a stranger, solitary and sad, +on the border of the great canal. Now with a glance he +measured the battlements and proud towers of the city; and now he +fixed his melancholy eyes upon the waters with a vacant +stare. At length he spoke—</p> +<p>“Wretch that I am, whither shall I go? Here sit I +in Venice, and what would it avail to wander further? What +will become of me? All now slumber, save myself! the Doge +rests on his couch of down; the beggar’s head presses his +straw pillow; but for <i>me</i> there is no bed except the cold, +damp earth! There is no gondolier so wretched but he knows +where to find work by day and shelter by night—while +<i>I</i>—while <i>I</i>—Oh! dreadful is the destiny +of which I am made the sport!”</p> +<p>He began to examine for the twentieth time the pockets of his +tattered garments.</p> +<p>“No! not one paolo, by heavens!—and I hunger +almost to death.”</p> +<p>He unsheathed his sword; he waved it in the moonshine, and +sighed, as he marked the glittering of the steel.</p> +<p>“No, no, my old true companion, thou and I must never +part. Mine thou shalt remain, though I starve for it. +Oh, was not that a golden time when Valeria gave thee to me, and +when she threw the belt over my shoulder, I kissed thee and +Valeria? She has deserted us for another world, but thou +and I will never part in this.”</p> +<p>He wiped away a drop which hung upon his eyelid.</p> +<p>“Pshaw! ’twas not a tear; the night wind is sharp +and bitter, and makes the eyes water; but as for +<i>tears</i>—Absurd! my weeping days are over.”</p> +<p>And as he spoke, the unfortunate (for such by his discourse +and situation he appeared to be) dashed his forehead against the +earth, and his lips were already unclosed to curse the hour which +gave him being, when he seemed suddenly to recollect +himself. He rested his head on his elbow, and sang +mournfully the burthen of a song which had often delighted his +childhood in the castle of his ancestors.</p> +<p>“Right,” he said to himself; “were I to sink +under the weight of my destiny, I should be myself no +longer.”</p> +<p>At that moment he heard a rustling at no great distance. +He looked around, and in an adjacent street, which the moon +faintly enlightened, he perceived a tall figure, wrapped in a +cloak, pacing slowly backwards and forwards.</p> +<p>“’Tis the hand of God which hath guided him +hither—yes—I’ll—I’ll +<i>beg</i>—better to play the beggar in Venice than the +villain in Naples; for the beggar’s heart may beat nobly, +though covered with rags.”</p> +<p>He then sprang from the ground, and hastened towards the +adjoining street. Just as he entered it at one end, he +perceived another person advancing through the other, of whose +approach the first was no sooner aware than he hastily retired +into the shadow of a piazza, anxious to conceal himself.</p> +<p>“What can this mean?” thought our mendicant. +“Is yon eavesdropper one of death’s unlicensed +ministers? Has he received the retaining fee of some +impatient heir, who pants to possess the wealth of the unlucky +knave who comes strolling along yonder, so careless and +unconscious? Be not so confident, honest friend! +I’m at your elbow.”</p> +<p>He retired further into the shade, and silently and slowly +drew near the lurker, who stirred not from his place. The +stranger had already passed them by, when the concealed villain +sprang suddenly upon him, raised his right hand in which a +poniard was gleaming, and before he could give the blow, was +felled to the earth by the arm of the mendicant.</p> +<p>The stranger turned hastily towards them; the bravo started up +and fled; the beggar smiled.</p> +<p>“How now?” cried the stranger; “what does +all this mean?”</p> +<p>“Oh, ’tis a mere jest, signor, which has only +preserved your life.”</p> +<p>“What? my life? How so?”</p> +<p>“The honest gentleman who has just taken to his heels +stole behind you with true cat-like caution, and had already +raised his dagger, when I saw him. You owe your life to me, +and the service is richly worth one little piece of money! +Give me some alms, signor, for on my soul I am hungry, thirsty, +cold.”</p> +<p>“Hence, scurvy companion! I know you and your +tricks too well. This is all a concerted scheme between +you, a design upon my purse, an attempt to procure both money and +thanks, and under the lame pretence of having saved me from an +assassin. Go, fellow, go! practise these dainty devices on +the Doge’s credulity if you will; but with Buonarotti you +stand no chance, believe me.”</p> +<p>The wretched starving beggar stood like one petrified, and +gazed on the taunting stranger.</p> +<p>“No, as I have a soul to save, signor, ’tis no lie +I tell you!—’tis the plain truth; have compassion, or +I die this night of hunger.”</p> +<p>“Begone this instant, I say, or by +Heaven—”</p> +<p>The unfeeling man here drew out a concealed pistol, and +pointed it at his preserver.</p> +<p>“Merciful Heaven! and is it thus that services are +acknowledged in Venice?”</p> +<p>“The watch is at no great distance, I need only raise my +voice and—”</p> +<p>“Hell and confusion! do you take me for a robber, +then?”</p> +<p>“Make no noise, I tell you. Be quiet—you had +better.”</p> +<p>“Hark you, signor. Buonarotti is your name, I +think? I will write it down as belonging to the second +scoundrel with whom I have met in Venice.”</p> +<p>He paused for a moment, then continuing in a dreadful voice, +“And when,” said he, “thou, Buonarotti, shalt +hereafter hear the name of +<i>Abellino</i>—<i>tremble</i>!”</p> +<p>Abellino turned away, and left the hard-hearted Venetian.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER II.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE BANDITTI.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">And</span> now rushed the unfortunate +wildly through the streets of Venice. He railed at fortune; +he laughed and cursed by turns; yet sometimes he suddenly stood +still, seemed as pondering on some great and wondrous enterprise, +and then again rushed onwards, as if hastening to its +execution.</p> +<p>Propped against a column of the Signoria, he counted over the +whole sum of his misfortunes. His wandering eyeballs +appeared to seek comfort, but they found it not.</p> +<p>“Fate,” he at length exclaimed in a paroxysm of +despair, “Fate has condemned me to be either the wildest of +adventurers, or one at the relation of whose crimes the world +must shudder. To astonish is my destiny. Rosalvo can +know no medium; Rosalvo can never act like common men. Is +it not the hand of fate which has led me hither? Who could +ever have dreamt that the son of the richest lord in Naples +should have depended for a beggar’s alms on Venetian +charity? I—I, who feel myself possessed of strength +of body and energy of soul fit for executing the most daring +deeds, behold me creeping in rags through the streets of this +inhospitable city, and torturing my wits in vain to discover some +means by which I may rescue life from the jaws of famine! +Those men whom my munificence nourished, who at my table bathed +their worthless souls in the choicest wines of Cyprus, and +glutted themselves with every delicacy which the globe’s +four quarters could supply, these very men now deny to my +necessity even a miserable crust of mouldy bread. Oh, that +is dreadful, cruel—cruel of men—cruel of +Heaven!”</p> +<p>He paused, folded his arms, and sighed.</p> +<p>“Yet will I bear it—I will submit to my +destiny. I will traverse every path and go through every +degree of human wretchedness; and whate’er may be my fate, +I will still be myself; and whate’er may be my fate, I will +still act greatly! Away, then, with the Count Rosalvo, whom +all Naples idolised; now—now, I am the beggar +Abellino. A beggar—that name stands last in the scale +of worldly rank, but first in the list of the famishing, the +outcast, and the unworthy.”</p> +<p>Something rustled near him. Abellino gazed around. +He was aware of the bravo, whom he struck to the ground that +night, and whom two companions of a similar stamp had now +joined. As they advanced, they cast inquiring glances +around them. They were in search of some one.</p> +<p>“It is of me that they are in search,” said +Abellino; then advanced a few steps, and whistled.</p> +<p>The ruffians stood still; they whispered together, and seemed +to be undecided.</p> +<p>Abellino whistled a second time.</p> +<p>“’Tis he,” he could hear one of them say +distinctly, and in a moment after they advanced slowly towards +him.</p> +<p>Abellino kept his place, but unsheathed his sword. The +three unknown (they were masked) stopped a few paces from +him.</p> +<p>“How now, fellow!” quoth one of them; “what +is the matter? Why stand you on your guard?”</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—It is as well that you should be made +to keep your distance, for I know you; you are certain honest +gentlemen, who live by taking away the lives of others.</p> +<p><i>The First Ruffian</i>.—Was not your whistling +addressed to us?</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—It was.</p> +<p><i>A Ruffian</i>.—And what would you with us?</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Hear me! I am a miserable wretch, +and starving; give me an alms out of your booty!</p> +<p><i>A Ruffian</i>.—An alms? Ha! ha! ha! By my +soul that is whimsical!—Alms from us, indeed!—Oh, by +all means! No doubt, you shall have alms in plenty.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Or else give me fifty sequins, and +I’ll bind myself to your service till I shall have worked +out my debt.</p> +<p><i>A Ruffian</i>.—Aye? and pray, then, who may you +be?</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—A starving wretch, the Republic holds +none more miserable. Such am I at present; but +hereafter—I have powers, knaves. This arm could +pierce a heart, though guarded by three breastplates; this eye, +though surrounded by Egyptian darkness, could still see to stab +sure.</p> +<p><i>A Ruffian</i>.—Why, then, did you strike me down, +even now?</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—In the hope of being paid for it; but +though I saved his life, the scoundrel gave me not a single +ducat.</p> +<p><i>A Ruffian</i>.—No? So much the better. +But hark ye, comrade, are you sincere?</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Despair never lies.</p> +<p><i>A Ruffian</i>.—Slave, shouldst thou be a +traitor—</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—My heart would be within reach of your +hands, and your daggers would be as sharp as now.</p> +<p>The three dangerous companions again whispered among +themselves for a few moments, after which they returned their +daggers into the sheath.</p> +<p>“Come on, then,” said one of them, “follow +us to our home. It were unwise to talk over certain matters +in the open streets.”</p> +<p>“I follow you,” was Abellino’s answer, +“but tremble should any one of you dare to treat me as a +foe. Comrade, forgive me that I gave your ribs somewhat too +hard a squeeze just now; I will be your sworn brother in +recompense.”</p> +<p>“We are on honour,” cried the banditti with one +voice; “no harm shall happen to you. He who does you +an injury shall be to us as a foe. A fellow of your humour +suits us well; follow us, and fear not.”</p> +<p>And on they went, Abellino marching between two of them. +Frequent were the looks of suspicion which he cast around him; +but no ill design was perceptible in the banditti. They +guided him onwards, till they reached a canal, loosened a +gondola, placed themselves in it, and rowed till they had gained +the most remote quarter of Venice. They landed, threaded +several by-streets, and at length knocked at the door of a house +of inviting appearance. It was opened by a young woman, who +conducted them into a plain but comfortable chamber. Many +were the looks of surprise and inquiry which she cast on the +bewildered, half-pleased, half-anxious Abellino, who knew not +whither he had been conveyed, and still thought it unsafe to +confide entirely in the promises of the banditti.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER III.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE TRIAL OF STRENGTH.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Scarcely</span> were the bravoes seated, +when Cinthia (for that was the young woman’s name) was +again summoned to the door; and the company was now increased by +two new-comers, who examined their unknown guest from head to +foot.</p> +<p>“Now, then,” cried one of these, who had conducted +Abellino to this respectable society, “let us see what you +are like.”</p> +<p>As he said this he raised a burning lamp from the table, and +the light of its flame was thrown full upon Abellino’s +countenance.</p> +<p>“Lord, forgive me my sins!” screamed Cinthia; +“out upon him! what an ugly hound it is!”</p> +<p>She turned hastily round, and hid her face with her +hands. Dreadful was the look with which Abellino repaid her +compliment.</p> +<p>“Knave,” said one of the banditti, +“Nature’s own hand has marked you out for an +assassin—come, prithee be frank, and tell us how thou hast +contrived so long to escape the gibbet? In what gaol didst +thou leave thy last fetters? Or from what galley hast thou +taken thy departure, without staying to say adieu?”</p> +<p>Abellino, folding his arms—“If I be such as you +describe,” said he, with an air of authority, and in a +voice which made his hearers tremble, “’tis for me +all the better. Whate’er may be my future mode of +life, Heaven can have no right to find fault with it, since it +was for that it formed and fitted me.”</p> +<p>The five bravoes stepped aside, and consulted together. +The subject of their conference is easy to be divined. In +the meanwhile Abellino remained quiet and indifferent to what was +passing.</p> +<p>After a few minutes they again approached him. One, +whose countenance was the most ferocious, and whose form +exhibited the greatest marks of muscular strength, advanced a few +paces before the rest, and addressed Abellino as +follows:—</p> +<p>“Hear me, comrade. In Venice there exist but five +banditti; you see them before you; wilt thou be the sixth? +Doubt not thou wilt find sufficient employment. My name is +Matteo, and I am the father of the band: that sturdy fellow with +the red locks is called Baluzzo; he, whose eyes twinkle like a +cat’s, is Thomaso, an arch-knave, I promise you; +’twas Pietrino whose bones you handled so roughly to-night; +and yon thick-lipped Colossus, who stands next to Cinthia, is +named Stuzza. Now, then, you know us all—and since +you are a penniless devil, we are willing to incorporate you in +our society; but we must first be assured that you mean honestly +by us.”</p> +<p>Abellino smiled, or rather grinned, and murmured +hoarsely—“I am starving.”</p> +<p>“Answer, fellow! Dost thou mean honestly by +us?”</p> +<p>“That must the event decide.”</p> +<p>“Mark me, knave; the first suspicion of treachery costs +you your life. Take shelter in the Doge’s palace, and +girdle yourself round with all the power of the +Republic—though clasped in the Doge’s arms, and +protected by a hundred cannons, still would we murder you! +Fly to the high altar; press the crucifix to your bosom, and even +at mid-day, still would we murder you. Think on this well, +fellow, and forget not we are banditti!”</p> +<p>“You need not tell me that. But give me some food, +and then I’ll prate with you as long as you please. +At present I am starving. Four-and-twenty hours have +elapsed since I last tasted nourishment.”</p> +<p>Cinthia now covered a small table with her best provisions, +and filled several silver goblets with delicious wine.</p> +<p>“If one could but look at him without disgust,” +murmured Cinthia; “if he had but the appearance of +something human! Satan must certainly have appeared to his +mother, and thence came her child into the world with such a +frightful countenance. Ugh! it’s an absolute mask, +only that I never saw a mask so hideous.”</p> +<p>Abellino heeded her not; he placed himself at the table, and +ate and drank as if he would have satisfied himself for the next +six months. The banditti eyed him with looks of +satisfaction, and congratulated each other on such a valuable +acquisition.</p> +<p>If the reader is curious to know what this same Abellino was +like, he must picture to himself a young, stout fellow, whose +limbs perhaps might have been thought not ill-formed, had not the +most horrible countenance that ever was invented by a +caricaturist, or that Milton could have adapted to the ugliest of +his fallen angels, entirely marred the advantages of his +person. Black and shining, but long and straight, his hair +flew wildly about his brown neck and yellow face. His mouth +so wide, that his gums and discoloured teeth were visible, and a +kind of convulsive twist, which scarcely ever was at rest, had +formed its expression into an internal grin. His eye, for +he had but one, was sunk deep into his head, and little more than +the white of it was visible, and even that little was +overshadowed by the protrusion of his dark and bushy +eyebrow. In the union of his features were found collected +in one hideous assemblage all the most coarse and uncouth traits +which had ever been exhibited singly in wooden cuts, and the +observer was left in doubt whether this repulsive physiognomy +expressed stupidity of intellect, or maliciousness of heart, or +whether it implied them both together.</p> +<p>“Now, then, I am satisfied,” roared Abellino, and +dashed the still full goblet upon the ground. “Speak! +what would you know of me? I am ready to give you +answers.”</p> +<p>“The first thing,” replied Matteo, “the +first thing necessary is to give us a proof of your strength, for +this is of material importance in our undertakings. Are you +good at wrestling?”</p> +<p>“I know not; try me.”</p> +<p>Cinthia removed the table.</p> +<p>“Now, then, Abellino, which of us will you +undertake? Whom among us dost thou think that thou canst +knock down as easily as yon poor dabbler in the art, +Pietrino?”</p> +<p>The banditti burst into a loud fit of laughter.</p> +<p>“Now, then,” cried Abellino, fiercely; “now, +then, for the trial. Why come you not on?”</p> +<p>“Fellow,” replied Matteo, “take my advice; +try first what you can do with me alone, and learn what sort of +men you have to manage. Think you, we are marrowless boys, +or delicate signors?”</p> +<p>Abellino answered him by a scornful laugh. Matteo became +furious. His companions shouted aloud, and clapped their +hands.</p> +<p>“To business!” said Abellino; “I’m now +in a right humour for sport! Look to yourselves, my +lads.” And in the same instant he collected his +forces together, threw the gigantic Matteo over his head as had +he been an infant, knocked Struzza down on the right hand, and +Pietrino on the left, tumbled Thomaso to the end of the room head +over heels, and stretched Baluzzo without animation upon the +neighbouring benches.</p> +<p>Three minutes elapsed ere the subdued bravoes could recover +themselves. Loudly shouted Abellino, while the astonished +Cinthia gazed and trembled at the terrible exhibition.</p> +<p>“By the blood of St. Januarius!” cried Matteo at +length, rubbing his battered joints, “the fellow is our +master! Cinthia, take care to give him our best +chamber.”</p> +<p>“He must have made a compact with the devil!” +grumbled Thomaso, and forced his dislocated wrist back into its +socket.</p> +<p>No one seemed inclined to hazard a second trial of +strength. The night was far advanced, or rather the grey +morning already was visible over the sea. The banditti +separated, and each retired to his chamber.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER IV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE DAGGERS.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Abellino</span>, this Italian Hercules, +all terrible as he appeared to be, was not long a member of this +society before his companions felt towards him sentiments of the +most unbounded esteem. All loved, all valued him, for his +extraordinary talents for a bravo’s trade, to which he +seemed peculiarly adapted, not only by his wonderful strength of +body, but by the readiness of his wit, and his never-failing +presence of mind. Even Cinthia was inclined to feel some +little affection for him, but—he really was too ugly.</p> +<p>Matteo, as Abellino was soon given to understand, was the +captain of this dangerous troop. He was one who carried +villainy to the highest pitch of refinement, incapable of fear, +quick and crafty, and troubled with less conscience than a French +financier. The booty and price of blood, which his +associates brought in daily, were always delivered up to him: he +gave each man his share, and retained no larger portion for +himself than was allotted to the others. The catalogue of +those whom he had despatched into the other world was already too +long for him to have repeated it: many names had slipped his +memory, but his greatest pleasure in his hour of relaxation was +to relate such of these murderous anecdotes as he still +remembered, in the benevolent intention of inspiring his hearers +with a desire to follow his example. His weapons were kept +separate from the rest, and occupied a whole apartment. +Here were to be found daggers of a thousand different fashions, +<i>with</i> guards and <i>without</i> them; two, three, and +four-edged. Here were stored air-guns, pistols, and +blunderbusses; poisons of various kinds and operating in various +ways; garments fit for every possible disguise, whether to +personate the monk, the Jew, or the mendicant; the soldier, the +sailor, or the gondolier.</p> +<p>One day he summoned Abellino to attend him in his armoury.</p> +<p>“Mark me,” said he, “thou wilt turn out a +brave fellow, that I can see already. It is now time that +you should earn that bread for yourself which hitherto you have +owed to our bounty. Look! Here thou hast a dagger of +the finest steel; you must charge for its use by the inch. +If you plunge it only one inch deep into the bosom of his foe, +your employer must reward you with only one sequin: if two +inches, with ten sequins; if three, with twenty; if the whole +dagger, you may then name your own price. Here is next a +glass poniard; whomsoever this pierces, that man’s death is +certain. As soon as the blow is given, you must break the +dagger in the wound. The flesh will close over the point +which has been broken off, and which will keep its quarters till +the day of resurrection! Lastly, observe this metallic +dagger; its cavity conceals a subtle poison, which, whenever you +touch this spring, will immediately infuse death into the veins +of him whom the weapon’s point hath wounded. Take +these daggers. In giving them I present you with a capital +capable of bringing home to you most heavy and most precious +interest.”</p> +<p>Abellino received the instruments of death, but his hand shook +as it grasped them.</p> +<p>“Possessed of such unfailing weapons, of what immense +sums must your robberies have made you master!”</p> +<p>“Scoundrel!” interrupted Matteo, frowning and +offended, “amongst us robbery is unknown. What? +Dost take us for common plunderers, for mere thieves, cut-purses, +housebreakers, and villains of that low, miserable +stamp?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps what you wish me to take you for is something +worse; for, to speak openly, Matteo, villains of that stamp are +contented within plundering a purse or a casket, which can easily +be filled again; but that which we take from others is a jewel +which a man never has but once, and which stolen can never be +replaced. Are we not, then, a thousand times more atrocious +plunderers?”</p> +<p>“By the house at Loretto, I think you have a mind to +moralise, Abellino?”</p> +<p>“Hark ye, Matteo, only one question. At the Day of +Judgment, which think you will hold his head highest, the thief +or the assassin?”</p> +<p>“Ha! ha! ha!”</p> +<p>“Think not that Abellino speaks thus from want of +resolution. Speak but the word, and I murder half the +senators of Venice; but still—”</p> +<p>“Fool! know, the bravo must be above crediting the +nurse’s antiquated tales of vice and virtue. What is +virtue? What is vice? Nothing but such things as +forms of government, custom, manners, and education have made +sacred: and that which men are able to make honourable at one +time, it is in their power to make dishonourable at another, +whenever the humour takes them; had not the senate forbidden us +to give opinions freely respecting the politics of Venice, there +would have been nothing wrong in giving such opinions; and were +the senate to declare that it is right to give such opinions, +that which to-day is thought a crime would be thought meritorious +to-morrow. Then, prithee, let us have no more of such +doubts as these. We are men, as much as the Doge and his +senators, and have reasons as much as <i>they</i> have to lay +down the law of right and wrong, and to alter the law of right +and wrong, and to decree what shall be vice, and what shall be +virtue.”</p> +<p>Abellino laughed. Matteo proceeded with increased +animation—</p> +<p>“Perhaps you will tell me that your trade is +<i>dishonourable</i>! And what, then, is the thing called +<i>honour</i>! ’Tis a word, an empty sound, a +mere fantastic creature of the imagination! Ask, as you +traverse some frequented street, in what honour consists? +The usurer will answer—’To be honourable is to be +rich, and he has most honour who can heap up the greatest +quantity of sequins.’ ’By no means,’ +cries the voluptuary; ‘honour consists in being beloved by +a very handsome woman, and finding no virtue proof against your +attacks.’ ‘How mistaken!’ interrupts the +general; ‘to conquer whole cities, to destroy whole armies, +to ruin all provinces, <i>that</i> indeed brings <i>real</i> +honour.’ The man of learning places his renown in the +number of pages which he has either written or read; the tinker, +in the number of pots and kettles which he has made or mended; +the nun, in the number of <i>good</i> things which she has done, +or <i>bad</i> things which she has resisted; the coquette, in the +list of her admirers; the Republic, in the extent of her +provinces; and thus, my friend, every one thinks that honour +consists in something different from the rest. And why, +then, should not the bravo think that honour consists in reaching +the perfection of his trade, and in guiding a dagger to the heart +of an enemy with unerring aim?”</p> +<p>“By my life, ’tis a pity, Matteo, that you should +be a bravo; the schools have lost an excellent teacher of +philosophy.”</p> +<p>“Do you think so? Why, the fact is thus, +Abellino. I was educated in a monastery; my father was a +dignified prelate in Lucca, and my mother a nun of the Ursuline +order, greatly respected for her chastity and devotion. +Now, Signor, it was thought fitting that I should apply closely +to my studies; my father, good man, would fain have made me a +light of the Church; but I soon found that I was better qualified +for an incendiary’s torch. I followed the bent of my +genius, yet count I not my studies thrown away, since they taught +me more philosophy than to tremble at phantoms created by my own +imagination. Follow my example, friend, and so +farewell.”</p> +<h3>CHAPTER V.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">SOLITUDE.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Abellino</span> had already passed six +weeks in Venice, and yet, either from want of opportunity, or of +inclination, he had suffered his daggers to remain idle in their +sheaths. This proceeded partly from his not being as yet +sufficiently acquainted with the windings and turnings, the +bye-lanes and private alleys of the town, and partly because he +had hitherto found no customers, whose murderous designs stood in +need of his helping hand.</p> +<p>This want of occupation was irksome to him in the extreme; he +panted for action, and was condemned to indolence.</p> +<p>With a melancholy heart did he roam through Venice, and number +every step with a sigh. He frequented the public places, +the taverns, the gardens, and every scene which was dedicated to +amusement. But nowhere could he find what ho +sought—tranquillity.</p> +<p>One evening he had loitered beyond the other visitants in a +public garden, situated on one of the most beautiful of the +Venetian islands. He strolled from arbour to arbour, threw +himself down on the sea-shore, and watched the play of the waves +as they sparkled in the moonshine.</p> +<p>“Four years ago,” said he, with a sigh, +“just such a heavenly evening was it, that I stole from +Valeria’s lips the first kiss, and heard from +Valeria’s lips for the first time the avowal that she loved +me.”</p> +<p>He was silent, and abandoned himself to the melancholy +recollections which thronged before his mind’s eye.</p> +<p>Everything around him was so calm, so silent! Not a +single zephyr sighed among the blades of grass; but a storm raged +in the bosom of Abellino.</p> +<p>“Four years ago could I have believed that a time would +come when I should play the part of a bravo in Venice! Oh, +where are they flown, the golden hopes and plans of glory which +smiled upon me in the happy days of my youth? I am a bravo: +to be a beggar were to be something better.”</p> +<p>“When my good old father, in the enthusiasm of paternal +vanity, so oft threw his arms around my neck, and cried, +‘My boy, thou wilt render the name of Rosalvo +glorious!’ God, as I listened, how was my blood on +fire? What thought I not, what that was good and great did +I not promise myself to do! The father is dead, and the son +is a Venetian bravo! When my preceptors praised and admired +me, and, carried away by the warmth of their feelings, clapped my +shoulder, and exclaimed, ‘Count, thou wilt immortalise the +ancient race of Rosalvo!’ Ha, in those blessed +moments of sweet delirium, how bright and beauteous stood +futurity before me! When, happy in the performance of some +good deed, I returned home, and saw Valeria hasten to receive me +with open arms, and when, while she clasped me to her bosom I +heard her whisper ‘Oh, who could forbear to love the great +Rosalvo?’ God! oh, God! Away, away, glorious +visions of the past. To look on you drives me +mad!”</p> +<p>He was again silent; he bit his lips in fury, raised one +emaciated hand to heaven, and struck his forehead violently with +the other.</p> +<p>“An assassin, the slave of cowards and rascals, the ally +of the greatest villains that the Venetian sun ever shines upon, +such is now the great Rosalvo. Fie, ah, fie on’t; and +yet to this wretched lot hath fatality condemned me.”</p> +<p>Suddenly he sprang from the ground after a long silence; his +eyes sparkled, his countenance was changed; he drew his breath +easier.</p> +<p>“Yes, by Heaven, yes. Great as Count Rosalvo, that +can I be no longer; but from being great as a Venetian bravo, +what prevents me? Souls in bliss,” he exclaimed, and +sank on his knee, while he raised his folded hands to heaven, as +if about to pronounce the most awful oath, “Spirit of my +father; spirit of Valeria, I will not become unworthy of +you. Hear me, if your ghosts are permitted to wander near +me, hear me swear that the bravo shall not disgrace the origin, +nor render vain the hopes which soothed you in the bitterness of +death. No, sure as I live, I will be the only dealer in +this miserable trade, and posterity shall be compelled to honour +that name, which my actions shall render illustrious.”</p> +<p>He bowed his forehead till it touched the earth, and his tears +flowed plenteously. Vast conceptions swelled his soul; he +dwelt on wondrous views, till their extent bewildered his brain; +yet another hour elapsed, and he sprang from the earth to realise +them.</p> +<p>“I will enter into no compact against human nature with +five miserable cut-throats. <i>Alone</i> will I make the +Republic tremble, and before eight days are flown, these +murderous knaves shall swing upon a gibbet. Venice shall no +longer harbour <i>five</i> banditti; <i>one</i> and <i>one</i> +only shall inhabit here, and that one shall beard the Doge +himself, shall watch over right and wrong, and according as he +judges, shall reward and punish. Before eight days are +flown, the State shall be purified from the presence of these +outcasts of humanity, and then shall I stand here alone. +Then must every villain in Venice, who hitherto has kept the +daggers of my companions in employment, have recourse to me; then +shall I know the names and persons of all those cowardly +murderers, of all those illustrious profligates, with whom Matteo +and his companions carry on the trade of blood. And +then—Abellino! Abellino, that is the name. Hear +it, Venice, hear it, and tremble.”</p> +<p>Intoxicated with the wildness of his hopes, he rushed out of +the garden. He summoned a gondolier, threw himself into the +boat, and hastened to the dwelling of Cinthia, where the +inhabitants already were folded in the arms of sleep.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER VI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">ROSABELLA, THE DOGE’S LOVELY +NIECE.</span></h3> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Hark</span>, comrade,” said +Matteo the next morning to Abellino; “to-day thou shalt +make thy first step in our profession.”</p> +<p>“To-day!” hoarsely murmured Abellino; “and +on whom am I to show my skill?”</p> +<p>“Nay, to say truth, ’tis but a woman; but one must +not give too difficult a task to a young beginner. I will +myself accompany you, and see how you conduct yourself in the +first trial.”</p> +<p>“Hum!” said Abellino, and measured Matteo with his +eye from head to foot.</p> +<p>“To-day, about four o’clock, thou shalt follow me +to Dolabella’s gardens, which are situated on the south +side of Venice. We must both be disguised, you +understand. In these gardens are excellent baths; and after +using the baths, the Doge’s niece, the lovely Rosabella of +Corfu, frequently walks without attendants. And +then—you conceive me?”</p> +<p>“And you will accompany me?”</p> +<p>“I will be a spectator of your first adventure; +’tis thus I deal by every one.”</p> +<p>“And how many inches deep must I plunge my +dagger?”</p> +<p>“To the hilt, boy, to the very hilt! Her death is +required, and the payment will be princely; Rosabella in the +grave, we are rich for life.”</p> +<p>Every other point was soon adjusted. Noon was now past, +the clock in the neighbouring church of the Benedictines struck +four, and Mattes and Abellino were already forth. They +arrived at the gardens of Dolabella, which that day were +unusually crowded. Every shady avenue was thronged with +people of both sexes; every arbour was occupied by persons most +distinguished in Venice. In every corner sighed lovesick +couples, as they waited for the wished approach of twilight; and +on every side did strains of vocal and instrumental music pour +their harmony on the enchanted ear.</p> +<p>Abellino mingled with the crowd. A most respectable +looking peruke concealed the repulsive ugliness of his features; +he imitated the walk and manners of a gouty old man, and +supported himself by a crutch, as he walked slowly through the +assembly. His habit, richly embroidered, procured for him +universally a good reception, and no one scrupled to enter into +conversation with him respecting the weather, the commerce of the +Republic, or the designs of its enemies; and on none of these +subjects was Abellino found incapable of sustaining the +discourse.</p> +<p>By these means he soon contrived to gain intelligence that +Rosabella was certainly in the gardens, how she was habited, and +in what quarter he was most likely to find her.</p> +<p>Thither he immediately bent his course; and hard at his heels +followed Matteo.</p> +<p>Alone, and in the most retired arbour, sat Rosabella of Corfu, +the fairest maid in Venice.</p> +<p>Abellino drew near the arbour; he tottered, as he passed its +entrance, like one oppressed with sudden faintness, and attracted +Rosabella’s attention.</p> +<p>“Alas, alas!” cried he, “is there no one at +hand who will take compassion on the infirmity of a poor old +man?”</p> +<p>The Doge’s fair niece quitted the arbour hastily, and +flew to give assistance to the sufferer.</p> +<p>“What ails you, my good father?” she inquired in a +melodious voice, and with a look of benevolent anxiety.</p> +<p>Abellino pointed towards the arbour; Rosabella led him in, and +placed him on a seat of turf.</p> +<p>“God reward you, lady,” stammered Abellino, +faintly. He raised his eyes; they met Rosabella’s, +and a blush crimsoned her pale cheeks.</p> +<p>Rosabella stood in silence before the disguised assassin, and +trembled with tender concern for the old man’s illness; and +oh, that expression of interest ever makes a lovely women look so +much more lovely! She bent her delicate form over the man +who was bribed to murder her, and after a while asked him, in +gentlest tone, “Are you not better?”</p> +<p>“Better?” stammered the deceiver, with a feeble +voice, “better—oh, yes, yes, yes. You—you +are the Doge’s niece—the noble Rosabella of +Corfu?”</p> +<p>“The same, my good old man.”</p> +<p>“Oh, lady, I have somewhat to tell you. Be on your +guard, Start not! What I would say is of the utmost +consequence, and demands the utmost prudence. Ah, God, that +there should live men so cruel! Lady, your life is in +danger.”</p> +<p>The maiden started back; the colour fled from her cheeks.</p> +<p>“Do you wish to behold your assassin? You shall +not die, but if you value your life, be silent.”</p> +<p>Rosabella knew not what to think; the presence of the old man +terrified her.</p> +<p>“Fear nothing, lady, fear nothing; you have nothing to +fear, while I am with you. Before you quit this arbour you +shall see the assassin expire at your feet.”</p> +<p>Rosabella made a movement as if she would have fled; but +suddenly the person who sat beside her was no longer an infirm +old man. He who a minute before had scarcely strength to +mutter out a few sentences, and reclined against the arbour +trembling like an aspen, sprang up with the force of a giant, and +drew her back with one arm.</p> +<p>“For the love of heaven!” she cried, +“release me. Let me fly!”</p> +<p>“Lady, fear nothing; <i>I</i> protect you.” +This said, Abellino placed a whistle at his lips, and blew it +shrilly.</p> +<p>Instantly sprang Matteo from his concealment in a neighbouring +clump of trees, and rushed into the arbour. Abellino threw +Rosabella on the bank of turf, advanced a few steps to meet +Matteo, and plunged his dagger in his heart.</p> +<p>Without uttering a single cry, sank the banditti captain at +the feet of Abellino: the death-rattle was heard in his throat, +and after a few horrible convulsions all was over.</p> +<p>Now did Matteo’s murderer look again towards the arbour, +and beheld Rosabella half senseless, as she lay on the bank of +turf.</p> +<p>“Your life is safe, beautiful Rosabella,” said he; +“there lies the villain bleeding, who conducted me hither +to murder you. Recover yourself; return to your uncle, the +Doge, and tell him that you owe your life to Abellino.”</p> +<p>Rosabella could not speak. Trembling, she stretched her +arms towards him, grasped his hand, and pressed it to her lips in +silent gratitude.</p> +<p>Abellino gazed with delight and wonder on the lovely sufferer; +and in such a situation, who could have beheld her without +emotion? Rosabella had scarcely numbered seventeen summers; +her light and delicate limbs, enveloped in a thin white garment, +which fell around her in a thousand folds; her blue and melting +eyes, whence beamed the expression of purest innocence; her +forehead, white as ivory, overshadowed the ringlets of her bright +dark hair; cheeks, whence terror had now stolen the roses; such +was Rosabella, a creature in whose formation partial Nature +seemed to have omitted nothing which might constitute the +perfection of female loveliness—such was she; and being +such, the wretched Abellino may be forgiven if for some few +minutes he stood like one enchanted, and bartered for those few +minutes the tranquillity of his heart for ever.</p> +<p>“By Him who made me,” cried he at length, +“oh! thou art fair, Rosabella; Valeria was not +fairer.”</p> +<p>He bowed himself down to her, and imprinted a burning kiss on +the pale cheeks of the beauty.</p> +<p>“Leave me, thou dreadful man,” she stammered in +terror; “oh, leave me.”</p> +<p>“Ah, Rosabella, why art thou so beauteous, and why am +I—Knowest thou who kissed thy cheek, Rosabella? Go, +tell thy uncle, the proud Doge—<i>’Twas the +bravo</i>, <i>Abellino</i>,” he said, and rushed out of the +arbour.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER VII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE BRAVO’S BRIDE.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was not without good reason that +Abellino took his departure in such haste. He had quitted +the spot but a few minutes, when a large party accidentally +strolled that way, and discovered with astonishment the corpse of +Matteo, and Rosabella pale and trembling in the arbour.</p> +<p>A crowd immediately collected itself round them. It +increased with every moment, and Rosabella was necessitated to +repeat what had happened to her for the satisfaction of every +newcomer.</p> +<p>In the meanwhile some of the Doge’s courtiers, who +happened to be among the crowd, hastened to call her attendants +together; her gondola was already waiting for her, and the +terrified girl soon reached her uncle’s palace in +safety.</p> +<p>In vain was an embargo laid upon every other gondola; in vain +did they examine every person who was in the gardens of Dolabella +at the time, when the murdered assassin was first +discovered. No traces could be found of Abellino.</p> +<p>The report of this strange adventure spread like wildfire +through Venice. Abellino, for Rosabella had preserved but +too well in her memory that dreadful name, and by the relation of +her danger had given it universal publicity, Abellino was the +object of general wonder and curiosity. Every one pitied +the poor Rosabella for what she had suffered, execrated the +villain who had bribed Matteo to murder her, and endeavoured to +connect the different circumstances together by the help of one +hypothesis or other, among which it would have been difficult to +decide which was the most improbable.</p> +<p>Every one who heard the adventure, told it again, and every +one who told it, added something of his own, till at length it +was made into a complete romantic novel, which might have been +entitled with great propriety, “The Power of Beauty;” +for the Venetian gentlemen and ladies had settled the point among +themselves completely to their own satisfaction, that Abellino +would undoubtedly have assassinated Rosabella, had he not been +prevented by her uncommon beauty. But though +Abellino’s interference had preserved her life, it was +doubted much whether this adventure would be at all relished by +her destined bridegroom, the Prince of Monaldeschi, a Neapolitan +of the first rank, possessed of immense wealth and extensive +influence. The Doge had for some time been secretly engaged +in negotiating a match between his niece and this powerful +nobleman, who was soon expected to make his appearance at +Venice. The motive of his journey, in spite of all the +Doge’s precautions, had been divulged, and it was no longer +a secret to any but Rosabella, who had never seen the prince, and +could not imagine why his expected visit should excite such +general curiosity.</p> +<p>Thus far the story had been told much to Rosabella’s +credit; but at length the women began to envy her for her share +in the adventure. The kiss which she had received from the +bravo afforded them an excellent opportunity for throwing out a +few malicious insinuations. “She received a great +service,” said one, “and there’s no saying how +far the fair Rosabella in the warmth of gratitude may have been +carried in rewarding her preserver.” “Very +true,” observed another, “and for my part, I think it +not very likely that the fellow, being alone with a pretty girl, +whose life he had just saved, should have gone away contented +with a single kiss.” “Come, come,” +interrupted a third, “do not let us judge uncharitably; the +fact may be exactly as the lady relates it, though I <i>must</i> +say, that gentlemen of Abellino’s profession are not +usually so pretty-behaved, and that this is the first time I ever +heard of a bravo in the Platonics.”</p> +<p>In short, Rosabella and the horrible Abellino furnished the +indolent and gossiping Venetians with conversation so long, that +at length the Doge’s niece was universally known by the +honourable appellation of the “Bravo’s +Bride.”</p> +<p>But no one gave himself more trouble about this affair than +the Doge, the good but proud Andreas. He immediately issued +orders that every person of suspicious appearance should be +watched more closely than ever, the night patrols were doubled, +and spies were employed daily in procuring intelligence of +Abellino; and yet all was in vain. Abellino’s retreat +was inscrutable.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER VIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE CONSPIRACY.</span></h3> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Confusion</span>!” exclaimed +Parozzi, a Venetian nobleman of the first rank, as he paced his +chamber with a disordered air on the morning after Matteo’s +murder; “now all curses light upon the villain’s +awkwardness; yet it seems inconceivable to me how all this should +have fallen out so untowardly. Has any one discovered my +designs? I know well that Verrino loves Rosabella. +Was it he who opposed this confounded Abellino to Matteo, and +charged him to mar my plans against her? That seems likely; +and now, when the Doge inquires who it was that employed +assassins to murder his niece, what other will be suspected than +Parozzi, the discontented lover, to whom Rosabella refused her +hand, and whom Andreas hates past hope of reconciliation? +And now, having once found the scent—Parozzi! +Parozzi! should the crafty Andreas get an insight into your +plans, should he learn that you have placed yourself at the head +of a troop of hare-brained youths—hare-brained may I well +call children—who, in order to avoid the rod, set fire to +their paternal mansions. Parozzi, should all this be +revealed to Andreas—?”</p> +<p>Here his reflections were interrupted. Memmo, Falieri, +and Contarino entered the room, three young Venetians of the +highest rank, Parozzi’s inseparable companions, men +depraved both in mind and body, spendthrifts, voluptuaries, well +known to every usurer in Venice, and owing more than their +paternal inheritance would ever admit of their paying.</p> +<p>“Why, how is this, Parozzi?” cried Memmo as he +entered, a wretch whose every feature exhibited marks of that +libertinism to which his life had been dedicated; “I can +scarce recover myself from my astonishment. For +Heaven’s sake, is this report true? Did you really +hire Matteo to murder the Doge’s niece?”</p> +<p>“I?” exclaimed Parozzi, and hastily turned away to +hide the deadly paleness which overspread his countenance; +“why should you suppose that any such designs—surely, +Memmo, you are distracted.”</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—By my soul, I speak but the plain matter +of fact. Nay, only ask Falieri; he can tell you more.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Faith, it is certain, Parozzi, that +Lomellino has declared to the Doge as a truth beyond doubting +that you, and none but you, were the person who instigated Matteo +to attempt Rosabella’s life.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—And I tell you again that Lomellino +knows not what he says.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Well, well, only be upon your +guard. Andreas is a terrible fellow to deal with.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—<i>He</i> terrible. I tell you he +is the most contemptible blockhead that the universe can +furnish! Courage perhaps he possesses, but of brains not an +atom.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—And <i>I</i> tell you that Andreas is +as brave as a lion, and as crafty as a fox.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Pshaw! pshaw! Everything would go +to rack and ruin were it not for the wiser heads of this +triumvirate of counsellors, whom Heaven confound! Deprive +him of Paolo Manfrone, Conari, and Lomellino, and the Doge would +stand there looking as foolish as a schoolboy who was going to be +examined and had forgotten his lesson.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Falieri is in the right.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Quite, quite.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—And then Andreas is as proud as a beggar +grown rich and dressed in his first suit of embroidery. By +St. Anthony, he is become quite insupportable. Do you not +observe how he increases the number of his attendants daily?</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Nay, that is an undoubted fact.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—And then, to what an unbounded extent +has he carried his influence. The Signoria, the Quaranti, +the Procurators of St. Mark, the Avocatori, all think and act +exactly as it suits the Doge’s pleasure and +convenience! Every soul of them depends as much on that one +man’s honour and caprices as puppets do who nod or shake +their wooden heads just as the fellow behind the curtain thinks +proper to move the wires.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—And yet the populace idolises this +Andreas.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Ay, that is the worst part of the +story.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—But never credit me again if he does not +experience a reverse of fortune speedily.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—That might happen would we but set our +shoulders to the wheel stoutly. But what do we do? We +pass our time in taverns; drink and game, and throw ourselves +headlong into such an ocean of debts, that the best swimmer must +sink at last. Let us resolve to make the attempt. Let +us seek recruits on all sides; let us labour with all our might +and main. Things must change, or if they do not, take my +word for it, my friends, this world is no longer a world for +us.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Nay, it’s a melancholy truth, that +during the last half-year my creditors have been ready to beat my +door down with knocking. I am awakened out of my sleep in +the morning, and lulled to rest again at night with no other +music than their eternal clamour.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Ha! ha! ha! As for me, I need not +tell you how I am suited.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Had we been less extravagant, we might +at this moment have been sitting quietly in our palaces; but as +things stand now—</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Well, as things stand now—I verily +believe that Falieri is going to moralise.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—That is ever the way with old sinners +when they have lost the power to sin any longer. Then they +are ready enough to weep over their past life, and talk loudly +about repentance and reformation. Now, for my own part, I +am perfectly well satisfied with my wanderings from the common +beaten paths of morality and prudence. They serve to +convince me that I am not one of your every-day men, who sit +cramped up in the chimney-corner, lifeless, phlegmatic, and +shudder when they hear of any extraordinary occurrence. +Nature evidently has intended me to be a libertine, and I am +determined to fulfil my destination. Why, if spirits like +ours were not produced every now and then, the world would +absolutely go fast asleep, but we rouse it by deranging the old +order of things, force mankind to quicken their snail’s +pace, furnish a million of idlers with riddles which they puzzle +their brains about without being able to comprehend, infuse some +hundreds of new ideas into the heads of the great multitude, and, +in short, are as useful to the world as tempests are, which +dissipate those exhalations with which Nature otherwise would +poison herself.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Excellent sophistry, by my honour. +Why, Contarino, ancient Rome has had an irreparable loss in not +having numbered you among her orators. It is a pity, +though, that there should be so little that’s solid wrapped +up in so many fine-sounding words. Now learn that while +you, with this rare talent of eloquence, have been most +unmercifully wearing out the patience of your good-natured +hearers, Falieri has been in <i>action</i>. The Cardinal +Gonzaga is discontented with the government—Heaven knows +what Andreas has done to make him so vehemently his +enemy—but, in short, Gonzaga now belongs to our party.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i> (with astonishment and delight).—Falieri, +are you in your senses? The Cardinal Gonzaga—?</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Is ours, and ours both body and +soul. I confess I was first obliged to rhodomontade a good +deal to him about our patriotism, our glorious designs, our love +for freedom, and so forth; in short, Gonzaga is a hypocrite, and +therefore is Gonzaga the fitter for us.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i> (clasping Falieri’s hand).—Bravo, +my friend! Venice shall see a second edition of +Catiline’s conspiracy. Now, then, it is <i>my</i> +turn to speak, for I have not been idle since we parted. In +truth, I have as yet <i>caught</i> nothing, but I have made +myself master of an all-powerful net, with which I doubt not to +capture the best half of Venice. You all know the +Marchioness Olympia?</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Does not each of us keep a list of the +handsomest women in the Republic, and can we have forgotten +number one?</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Olympia and Rosabella are the goddesses +of Venice; our youths burn incense on no other altars.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Olympia is my own.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—How?</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Olympia?</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Why, how now? Why stare ye as +had I prophesied to you that the skies were going to fall? +I tell you Olympia’s heart is mine, and that I possess her +entire and most intimate confidence. Our connection must +remain a profound secret, but depend on it, whatever <i>I</i> +wish <i>she</i> wishes also; and you know she can make half the +nobility in Venice dance to the sound of her pipe, let her play +what tune she pleases.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Contarino, you are our master.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—And you had not the least suspicion +how powerful an ally I was labouring to procure for you?</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—I must blush for myself while I listen +to you, since as yet I have done nothing. Yet this I must +say in my excuse: Had Matteo, bribed by my gold, accomplished +Rosabella’s murder, the Doge would have been robbed of that +chain with which he holds the chief men in Venice attached to his +government. Andreas would have no merit, were Rosabella +once removed. The most illustrious families would care no +longer for his friendship with their hopes of a connection with +him by means of his niece buried in her grave. Rosabella +will one day be the Doge’s heiress.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—All that I can do for you in this business +is to provide you with pecuniary supplies. My old miserable +uncle, whose whole property becomes mine at his death, has +brimful coffers, and the old miser dies whenever I say the +word.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—You have suffered him to live too long +already.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Why, I never have been able to make up my +mind entirely to—You would scarcely believe it, friends, +but at times I am so hypochondriac, that I could almost fancy I +feel twinges of conscience.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Indeed. Then take my advice, go +into a monastery.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Our care first must be to find out our old +acquaintances, Matteo’s companions: yet, having hitherto +always transacted business with them through their captain, I +know not where they are to be met with.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—As soon as they are found, their first +employment must be the removal of the Doge’s trio of +advisers.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—That were an excellent idea, if it +were as easily done as said. Well, then, my friends, this +principal point at least is decided. Either we will bury +our debts under the ruins of the existing constitution of the +Republic, or make Andreas a gift of our heads towards +strengthening the walls of the building. In either case, we +shall at least obtain quiet. Necessity, with her whip of +serpents, has driven us to the very highest point of her rock, +whence we must save ourselves by some act of extraordinary +daring, or be precipitated on the opposite side into the abyss of +shame and eternal oblivion. The next point to be considered +is, how we may best obtain supplies for our necessary expenses, +and induce others to join with us in our plans. For this +purpose we must use every artifice to secure in our interests the +courtesans of the greatest celebrity in Venice. What +<i>we</i> should be unable to effect by every power of +persuasion, banditti by their daggers, and princes by their +treasuries, can one of those Phrynes accomplish with a single +look. Where the terrors of the scaffold are without effect, +and the exhortations of the priests are heard with coldness, a +wanton look and a tender promise often perform wonders. The +bell which sounded the hour of assignation has often rang the +knell of the most sacred principles and most steadfast +resolutions. But should you either fail to gain the mastery +over the minds of these women, or fear to be yourselves entangled +in the nets which you wish to spread for others, in these cases +you must have recourse to the holy father confessors. +Flatter the pride of these insolent friars; paint for them upon +the blank leaf of futurity bishops’ mitres, patriarchal +missions, the hats of cardinals, and the keys of St. Peter; my +life upon it, they will spring at the bait, and you will have +them completely at your disposal. These hypocrites who +govern the consciences of the bigoted Venetians, hold man and +woman, the noble and the mendicant, the Doge and the gondolier, +bound fast in the chains of superstition, by which they can head +them wheresoever it best suits their pleasure. It will save +us tons of gold in gaining over proselytes, and keeping their +consciences quiet when gained, if we can but obtain the +assistance of the confessors, whose blessings and curses pass +with the multitude for current coin. Now, then, to work, +comrades, and so farewell.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER IX.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">CINTHIA’S DWELLING.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Scarcely</span> had Abellino achieved the +bloody deed which employed every tongue in Venice, when he +changed his dress and whole appearance with so much expedition +and success as to prevent the slightest suspicion of his being +Matteo’s murderer. He quitted the gardens +unquestioned, nor left the least trace which could lead to a +discovery.</p> +<p>He arrived at Cinthia’s dwelling. It was already +evening. Cinthia opened the door, and Abellino entered the +common apartment.</p> +<p>“Where are the rest?” said he in a savage tone of +voice whose sound made Cinthia tremble.</p> +<p>“They have been asleep,” she answered, +“since mid-day. Probably they mean to go out on some +pursuit to-night.” Abellino threw himself into a +chair, and seemed to be lost in thought.</p> +<p>“But why are you always so gloomy, Abellino?” said +Cinthia, drawing near him; “it’s that which makes you +so ugly. Prithee away with those frowns; they make your +countenance look worse than nature made it?”</p> +<p>Abellino gave no answer.</p> +<p>“Really, you are enough to frighten a body! Come, +now, let us be friends, Abellino; I begin not to dislike you, and +to endure your appearance; and I don’t know +but—”</p> +<p>“Go, wake the sleepers!” roared the bravo.</p> +<p>“The sleepers? Pshaw, let them sleep on, the +stupid rogues. Sure you are not afraid to be alone with +me? Mercy on me, one would think I looked as terrible as +yourself? Do I? Nay, look on me, Abellino.”</p> +<p>Cinthia, to say the truth, was by no means an ill-looking +girl; her eyes were bright and expressive; the hair fell in +shining ringlets over her bosom; her lips were red and full, and +she bowed them towards Abellino’s. But +Abellino’s were still sacred by the touch of +Rosabella’s cheek. He started from his seat, and +removed, yet gently, Cinthia’s hand, which rested on his +shoulder.</p> +<p>“Wake the sleepers, my good girl,” said he, +“I must speak with them this moment.”</p> +<p>Cinthia hesitated.</p> +<p>“Nay, go,” said he, in a fierce voice.</p> +<p>Cinthia retired in silence; yet as she crossed the threshold, +she stopped for an instant and menaced him with her finger.</p> +<p>Abellino strode through the chamber with hasty steps, his head +reclining on his shoulder, his arms folded over his breast.</p> +<p>“The first step is taken,” said he to +himself. “There is one moral monster the less on +earth. I have committed no sin by this murder; I have but +performed a sacred duty. Aid me, thou Great and Good, for +arduous is the task before me. Ah, should that task be gone +through with success, and Rosabella be the reward of my +labours—Rosabella? What, shall the Doge’s niece +bestow on the outcast Abellino? Oh, madman that I am to +hope it, never can I reach the goal of my wishes! No, never +was there frenzy to equal mine. To attach myself at first +sight to—Yet Rosabella alone is capable of thus enchanting +at first sight—Rosabella and Valeria? To be beloved +by two such women—Yet, though ’tis impossible to +attain, the striving to attain such an end is glorious. +Illusions so delightful will at least make me happy for a moment, +and alas, the wretched Abellino needs so many illusions that for +a moment will make him happy! Oh, surely, knew the world +what I gladly would accomplish, the world would both love and +pity me.”</p> +<p>Cinthia returned; the four bravoes followed her, yawning, +grumbling, and still half asleep.</p> +<p>“Come, come!” said Abellino, “rouse +yourselves, lads. Before I say anything, be convinced that +you are wide awake, for what I am going to tell you is so strange +that you would scarce believe it in a dream.”</p> +<p>They listened to him with an air of indifference and +impatience.</p> +<p>“Why, what’s the matter now?” said Thomaso, +while he stretched himself.</p> +<p>“Neither more nor less than that our honest, hearty, +brave Matteo is murdered.”</p> +<p>“What, murdered!” every one exclaimed, and gazed +with looks of terror on the bearer of this unwelcome news; while +Cinthia gave a loud scream, and, clasping her hands together, +sank almost breathless into a chair.</p> +<p>A general silence prevailed for some time.</p> +<p>“Murdered!” at length repeated Thomaso, “and +by whom?”</p> +<p><i>Baluzzo</i>.—Where?</p> +<p><i>Pietrino</i>.—What? this forenoon?</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—In the gardens of Dolabella, where he +was found bleeding at the feet of the Doge’s niece. +Whether he fell by her hand, or by that of one of her admirers, I +cannot say.</p> +<p><i>Cinthia</i> (weeping).—Poor dear Matteo.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—About this time to-morrow you will see +his corpse exhibited on the gibbet.</p> +<p><i>Pietrino</i>.—What! Did any one recognise +him?</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Yes, yes! there’s no doubt about +his trade, you may depend on’t.</p> +<p><i>Cinthia</i>.—The gibbet! Poor dear Matteo!</p> +<p><i>Thomaso</i>.—This is a fine piece of work.</p> +<p><i>Baluzzo</i>.—Confound the fellow, who would have +thought of anything happening so unlucky?</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Why, how now? You seem to be +overcome.</p> +<p><i>Struzza</i>.—I cannot recover myself; surprise and +terror have almost stupefied me.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Indeed! By my life, when I heard +the news I burst into laughter. “Signor +Matteo,” said I, “I wish your worship joy of your +safe arrival.”</p> +<p><i>Thomaso</i>.—What?</p> +<p><i>Struzza</i>.—You laughed? Hang me if I can see +what there is to laugh at.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Why, surely you are not afraid of +receiving what you are so ready to bestow on others? What +is your object? What can we expect as our reward at the end +of our labours except the gibbet or the rock? What +memorials of our actions shall we leave behind us, except our +skeletons dancing in the air, and the chains which rattle round +them? He who chooses to play the bravo’s part on the +great theatre of the world must not be afraid of death, whether +it comes at the hands of the physician or the executioner. +Come, come, pluck up your spirits, comrades.</p> +<p><i>Thomaso</i>.—That’s easy to say, but quite out +of my power.</p> +<p><i>Pietrino</i>.—Mercy on me, how my teeth chatter.</p> +<p><i>Baluzzo</i>.—Prithee, Abellino, be composed for a +moment or two, your gaiety at a time like this is quite +horrible.</p> +<p><i>Cinthia</i>.—Oh, me! oh, me! Poor murdered +Matteo.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Hey-day. Why, what is all this! +Cinthia, my life, are you not ashamed of being such a +child? Come, let you and I renew that conversation which my +sending you to wake these gentlemen interrupted. Sit down +by me, sweetheart, and give me a kiss.</p> +<p><i>Cinthia</i>.—Out upon you, monster.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—What, have you altered your mind, my +pretty dear? Well, well, with all my heart, when <i>you</i> +are in the humour, perhaps <i>I</i> may not have the +inclination.</p> +<p><i>Baluzzo</i>.—Death and the devil, Abellino, is this a +time for talking nonsense? Prithee keep such trash for a +fitter occasion, and let us consider what we are to do just +now.</p> +<p><i>Pietrino</i>.—Nay, this is no season for +trifling.</p> +<p><i>Struzza</i>.—Tell us, Abellino; you are a clever +fellow; what course is it best for us to take?</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i> (after a pause).—Nothing must be done, +or a great deal. One of two things we must choose. +Either we must remain <i>where</i> we are, and <i>what</i> we +are, murder honest men to please any rascal who will give us gold +and fair words, and make up our minds to be hung, broken on the +wheel, condemned to the galleys, burnt alive, crucified, or +beheaded, at the long run, just as it may seem best to the +supreme authority; or else—</p> +<p><i>Thomaso</i>.—Or else? Well?</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Or else we must divide the spoils which +are already in our possession, quit the Republic, begin a new and +better life, and endeavour to make our peace with Heaven. +We have already wealth enough to make it unnecessary for us to +ask how shall we get our bread? You may either buy an +estate in some foreign country, or keep <i>Osteria</i>, or engage +in commerce, or set up some trade, or, in short, do whatever you +like best, so that you do but abandon the profession of an +assassin. Then we may look out for a wife among the pretty +girls of our own rank in life, become the happy fathers of sons +and daughters may eat and drink in peace and security, and make +amends by the honesty of our future lives for the offences of our +past.</p> +<p><i>Thomaso</i>.—Ha! ha! ha!</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—What <i>you</i> do, that will <i>I</i> +do too; I will either hang or be broken on the wheel along with +you, or become an honest man, just as you please. Now, +then, what is your decision?</p> +<p><i>Thomaso</i>.—Was there ever such a stupid +counsellor.</p> +<p><i>Pietrino</i>.—Our decision? Nay, the +point’s not very difficult to decide.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—I should have thought it <i>had</i> +been.</p> +<p><i>Thomaso</i>.—Without more words, then, I vote for our +remaining as we are, and carrying on our old trade; that will +bring us plenty of gold, and enable us to lead a jolly life.</p> +<p><i>Pietrino</i>.—Right, lad, you speak my thoughts +exactly.</p> +<p><i>Thomaso</i>.—We are bravoes, it’s true; but +what then? We are honest fellows, and the devil take him +who dares to say we are not. However, at any rate, we must +keep within doors for a few days, lest we should be discovered; +for I warrant you the Doge’s spies are abroad in search of +us by this. But as soon as the pursuit is over, be it our +first business to find out Matteo’s murderer, and throttle +him out of hand as a warning to all others.</p> +<p><i>All</i>.—Bravo, bravissimo.</p> +<p><i>Pietrino</i>.—And from this day forth I vote that +Thomaso should be our captain.</p> +<p><i>Struzza</i>.—Aye, in Matteo’s stead.</p> +<p><i>All</i>.—Right, right.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—To which I say amen with all my +heart. Now, then, all is decided.</p> +<h2>Book the Second.</h2> +<h3>CHAPTER I.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE BIRTHDAY.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> solitude and anxiety, with +barred windows and bolted doors, did the banditti pass the day +immediately succeeding Matteo’s murder; every murmur in the +street appeared to them a cause of apprehension; every footstep +which approached their doors made them tremble till it had passed +them.</p> +<p>In the meanwhile the ducal palace blazed with splendour and +resounded with mirth. The Doge celebrated the birthday of +his fair niece, Rosabella; and the feast was honoured by the +presence of the chief persons of the city, of the foreign +ambassadors, and of many illustrious strangers who were at that +time resident in Venice.</p> +<p>On this occasion no expense had been spared, no source of +pleasure had been neglected. The arts contended with each +other for superiority; the best poets in Venice celebrated this +day with powers excelling anything which they had before +exhibited, for the subject of their verses was Rosabella; the +musicians and <i>virtuosi</i> surpassed all their former +triumphs, for their object was to obtain the suffrage of +Rosabella. The singular union of all kinds of pleasure +intoxicated the imagination of every guest; and the genius of +delight extended his influence over the whole assembly, over the +old man and the youth, over the matron and the virgin.</p> +<p>The venerable Andreas had seldom been in such high spirits as +on this occasion. He was all life; smiles of satisfaction +played round his lips; gracious and condescending to every one, +he made it his chief care to prevent his rank from being +felt. Sometimes he trifled with the ladies, whose beauty +formed the greatest ornament of this entertainment; sometimes he +mingled among the masks, whose fantastic appearance and gaiety of +conversation enlivened the ball-room by their variety; at other +times he played chess with the generals and admirals of the +Republic; and frequently he forsook everything to gaze with +delight on Rosabella’s dancing, or listen in silent rapture +to Rosabella’s music.</p> +<p>Lomellino, Conari, and Paolo Manfrone, the Doge’s three +confidential friends and counsellors, in defiance of their grey +hairs, mingled in the throng of youthful beauties, flirted first +with one and then with another, and the arrows of raillery were +darted and received on both sides with spirit and good +humour.</p> +<p>“Now, Lomellino,” said Andreas to his friend, who +entered the saloon in which the Doge was at that time +accidentally alone with his niece, “you seem in gayer +spirits this evening than when we were lying before Scardona, and +had so hard a game to play against the Turks.”</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—I shall not take upon me to deny that, +signor. I still think with a mixture of terror and +satisfaction on the night when we took Scardona, and carried the +half-moon before the city walls. By my soul, our Venetians +fought like lions.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Fill this goblet to their memory, my old +soldier; you have earned your rest bravely.</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—Aye, signor, and oh, it is so sweet to +rest on laurels. But in truth, ’tis to you that I am +indebted for mine; it is you who have immortalised me. No +soul on earth would have known that Lomellino existed, had he not +fought in Dalmatia and Sicilia under the banners of the great +Andreas, and assisted him in raising eternal trophies in honour +of the Republic.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—My good Lomellino, the Cyprus wine must +have heated your imagination.</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—Nay, I know well I ought not to call +you great, and praise you thus openly to your face; but faith, +signor, I am grown too old for it to be worth my while to +flatter. That is a business which I leave to our young +courtiers, who have never yet come within the smell of powder, +and never have fought for Venice and Andreas.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—You are an old enthusiast. Think +you the Emperor is of the same opinion?</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—Unless Charles the Fifth is deceived +by those about him, or is too proud to allow the greatness of an +enemy, he must say, perforce, “There is but one man on +earth whom I fear, and who is worthy to contend with me, and that +man is Andreas.”</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—I suspect he will be sorely displeased +when he receives my answer to the message by which he notified to +me the imprisonment of the French king.</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—Displeased he will be, signor, no +doubt of it; but what then? Venice need not fear his +displeasure, while Andreas still lives. But when you and +your heroes are once gone to your eternal rest—then, alas +for thee, poor Venice. I fear your golden times will soon +come to their conclusion.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—What! Have we not many young +officers of great promise?</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—Alas, what are most of them? +Heroes in the fields of Venus. Heroes at a +drinking-bout. Effeminate striplings, relaxed both in mind +and body. But how am I running on, forgetful. Ah, +when one is grown old, and conversing with an Andreas, it is easy +to forget everything else. My lord, I sought you with a +request, a request, too, of consequence.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—You excite my curiosity.</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—About a week ago there arrived here a +young Florentine nobleman called Flodoardo, a youth of noble +appearance and great promise.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Well?</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—His father was one of my dearest +friends. He is dead now, the good old generous +nobleman. In our youth we served together on board the same +vessel, and many a turbaned head has fallen beneath his +sword. Ah, he was a brave soldier.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—While celebrating the father’s +bravery, you seem to have quite forgotten the son.</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—His son is arrived in Venice, and +wishes to enter into the service of the Republic. I entreat +you, give the young man some respectable situation; he will prove +the boast of Venice when we shall be in our graves, on that would +I hazard my existence.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Has he sense and talent?</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—That he has; a heart like his +father’s. Will it please you to see and converse with +him? He is yonder, among the masks in the great +saloon. One thing I must tell you, as a specimen of his +designs. He has heard of the banditti who infest Venice, +and he engages that the first piece of service which he renders +the Republic shall be the delivering into the hands of justice +those concealed assassins, who hitherto have eluded the vigilance +of our police.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Indeed! I doubt that promise will +be too much for his power to perform. Flodoardo, I think +you called him? Tell him I would speak with him.</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—Oh! then I have gained at least the +<i>half</i> of my cause, and I believe the <i>whole</i> of it, +for to see Flodoardo and not to like him is as difficult as to +look at Paradise and not wish to enter. To see Flodoardo +and to hate him is as unlikely as that a blind man should hate +the kind hand which removes the cataract from his eyes, and pours +upon them the blessings of light and beauties of nature.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i> (smiling).—In the whole course of our +acquaintance, Lomellino, never did I hear you so +enthusiastic! Go, then, conduct this prodigy hither.</p> +<p><i>Lomellino</i>.—I hasten to find him. And as for +you, signora, look to yourself! look to yourself, I say!</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—Nay, prithee, Lomellino, bring your +hero hither without delay; you have raised my curiosity to the +height.</p> +<p>Lomellino quitted the saloon.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—How comes it that you rejoin not the +dancers, my child?</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—I am weary, and, besides, curiosity +now detains me here, for I would fain see this Flodoardo, whom +Lomellino thinks deserving of such extraordinary praise. +Shall I tell you the truth, my dear uncle? I verily believe +that I am already acquainted with him. There was a mask in +a Grecian habit, whose appearance was so striking, that it was +impossible for him to remain confounded with the crowd. The +least attentive eye must have singled him out from among a +thousand. It was a tall light figure, so graceful in every +movement; then his dancing was quite perfection.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i> (smiling, and threatening with his +finger).—Child, child!</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—Nay, my dear uncle, what I say is mere +justice; it is possible, indeed, that the Greek and the +Florentine may be two different persons, but still, according to +Lomellino’s description—Oh! look, dear uncle, only +look yonder; there stands the Greek, as I live.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—And Lomellino is with him; they +approach. Rosabella, you have made a good guess.</p> +<p>The Doge had scarcely ceased to speak, when Lomellino entered +the room, conducting a tall young man, richly habited in the +Grecian fashion.</p> +<p>“My gracious lord,” said Lomellino, “I +present to you the Count Flodoardo, who humbly sues for your +protection.”</p> +<p>Flodoardo uncovered his head in token of respect, took off his +mask, and bowed low before the illustrious ruler of Venice.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—I understand you are desirous of serving +the Republic?</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—That is my ambition, should your +Highness think me deserving of such an honour.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Lomellino speaks highly of you; if all +that he says be true, how came you to deprive your own country of +your services?</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—Because my own country is not governed +by an Andreas.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—You have intentions, it seems, of +discovering the haunts of the banditti, who for some time past +have caused so many tears to flow in Venice?</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—If your Highness would deign to +confide in me, I would answer with my head for their delivery +into the hands of your officers, and that speedily.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—That were much for a stranger to +perform. I would fain make the trial whether you can keep +your word.</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—That is sufficient. To-morrow, +or the day after at least, will I perform my promise.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—And you make that promise so +resolutely? Are you aware, young man, how dangerous a task +it is to surprise these miscreants? They are never to be +found when sought for, and always present when least expected; +they are at once everywhere and nowhere. There exists not a +nook in Venice which our spies are not acquainted with, or have +left unexamined, and yet has our police endeavoured in vain to +discover the place of their concealment.</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—I know all this, and to know it +rejoices me, since it affords me an opportunity of convincing the +Doge of Venice, that my actions are not those of a common +adventurer.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Perform your promise, and then let me +hear of you. For the present our discourse shall end here, +for no unpleasant thoughts must disturb the joy to which this day +is dedicated. Rosabella, would you not like to join the +dancers? Count, I confide her to your care.</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—I could not be entrusted with a more +precious charge.</p> +<p>Rosabella, during this conversation, had been leaning against +the back of her uncle’s chair. She repeated to +herself Lomellino’s assertion, “that to see +Flodoardo, and not to like him, was as difficult as to look at +Paradise and not wish to enter;” and while she gazed on the +youth, she allowed that Lomellino had not exaggerated. When +her uncle desired Flodoardo to conduct her to the dancers, a soft +blush overspread her cheek, and she doubted whether she should +accept or decline the hand which was immediately offered.</p> +<p>And to tell you my real opinion, my fair ladies, I suspect +that very few of you would have been more collected than +Rosabella, had you found yourselves similarly situated. In +truth, such a form as Flodoardo’s; a countenance whose +physiognomy seemed a passport at once to the hearts of all who +examined it; features so exquisitely fashioned that the artist +who wished to execute a model of manly beauty, had he imitated +them, would have had nothing to supply or improve; features, +every one of which spoke so clearly, “The bosom of this +youth contains the heart of a hero.” Ah, ladies, my +dear ladies, a man like this might well make some little +confusion in the head and heart of a poor young girl, tender and +unsuspicious!</p> +<p>Flodoardo took Rosabella’s hand, and led her into the +ball-room. Here all was mirth and splendour, the roofs +re-echoed with the full swell of harmony, and the floor trembled +beneath the multitude of dancers, who formed a thousand beautiful +groups by the blaze of innumerable lustres. Yes, Flodoardo +and Rosabella passed on in silence till they reached the extreme +end of the great saloon. Here they stopped, and remained +before an open window. Some minutes passed, and still they +spoke not. Sometimes they gazed on each other, sometimes on +the dancers, sometimes on the moon; and then again they forgot +each other, the dancers, and the moon, and were totally absorbed +in themselves.</p> +<p>“Lady,” said Flodoardo, at length, “can +there be a greater misfortune?”</p> +<p>“A misfortune?” said Rosabella, starting as if +suddenly awaking from a dream; “what misfortune, +signor? Who is unfortunate?”</p> +<p>“He who is doomed to behold the joys of Elysium and +never to possess them. He who dies of thirst and sees a cup +stand full before him, but which he knows is destined for the +lips of another.”</p> +<p>“And are you, my lord, this outcast from Elysium? +Are you the thirsty one who stands near the cup which is filled +for another? Is it thus that you wish me to understand your +speech?”</p> +<p>“You understand it as I meant: and now tell me, lovely +Rosabella, am I not indeed unfortunate?”</p> +<p>“And where, then, is the Elysium which you must never +possess?”</p> +<p>“Where Rosabella is, there is indeed Elysium. You +are not offended, signora?” said Flodoardo, and took her +hand with an air of respectful tenderness. “Has this +openness displeased you?”</p> +<p>“You are a native of Florence, Count Flodoardo. In +Venice we dislike this kind of compliment: at least I dislike +them, and wish to hear them from no one less than from +you.”</p> +<p>“By my life, signora, I spoke but as I thought! my words +concealed no flattery.”</p> +<p>“See, the Doge enters the saloon with Manfrone and +Lomellino: he will seek us among the dancers. Come, let us +join them.”</p> +<p>Flodoardo followed her in silence. The dance +began. Heavens! how lovely looked Rosabella, as she glided +along to the sweet sounds of music, conducted by Flodoardo. +How handsome looked Flodoardo, as, lighter than air, he flew down +the dance, while his brilliant eyes saw no object but +Rosabella.</p> +<p>He was still without his mask, and bareheaded: but every eye +glanced away from the helmets and <i>barettes</i>, waving with +plumes, and sparkling with jewels, to gaze on Flodoardo’s +raven locks, as they floated on the air in wild luxuriance. +A murmur of admiration rose from every corner of the saloon, but +it rose unmarked by those who were the objects of it. +Neither Rosabella nor Flodoardo at that moment formed a wish to +be applauded, except by each other.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER II.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE FLORENTINE STRANGER.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Two</span> evenings had elapsed since the +Doge’s entertainment. On the second, Parozzi sat in +his own apartment, with Memmo and Falieri. Dimly burnt the +lights; lowering and tempestuous were the skies without; gloomy +and fearful were the souls of the libertines within.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i> (after a long silence).—What, are you +both dreaming? Ho, there, Memmo, Falieri, fill your +goblets.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i> (with indifference).—Well, to please +you—. But I care not for wine to-night.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Nor I. Methinks it tastes like +vinegar: yet the wine itself is good: ’tis our ill temper +spoils it.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Confound the rascals.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—What, the banditti?</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Not a trace of them can be found. +It is enough to kill one with vexation.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—And in the meanwhile the time runs out, +our projects will get wind, and then we shall sit quietly in the +State prisons of Venice, objects of derision to the populace and +ourselves. I could tear my flesh for anger. (A +universal silence.)</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i> (striking his hand against the table +passionately).—Flodoardo, Flodoardo.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—In a couple of hours I must attend the +Cardinal Gonzaga, and what intelligence shall I have to give +him?</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Come, come, Contarino cannot have been +absent so long without cause; I warrant you he will bring some +news with him when he arrives.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Pshaw, pshaw! My life on’t +he lies at this moment at Olympia’s feet, and forgets us, +the Republic, the banditti, and himself.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—And so neither of you know anything of +this Flodoardo?</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—No more than of what happened on +Rosabella’s birthday.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Well, then, I know one thing more about +him; Parozzi is jealous of him.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—I? Ridiculous, Rosabella may +bestow her hand on the German Emperor, or a Venetian gondolier, +without its giving me the least anxiety.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Ha! ha! ha!</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Well, one thing at least even envy must +confess; Flodoardo is the handsomest man in Venice. I doubt +whether there’s a woman in the city who can resist him.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—And I should doubt it too, if women had +as little sense as you have, and looked only at the shell without +minding the kernel—</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Which unluckily is exactly the thing which +women always do—</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—The old Lomellino seems to be extremely +intimate with this Flodoardo. They say he was well +acquainted with his father.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—It was he who presented him to the +Doge.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Hark!—Surely some one knocked at +the palace door?</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—It can be none but Contarino. Now, +then, we shall hear whether he has discovered the banditti.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i> (starting from his chair).—I’ll +swear to that footstep, it’s Contarino.</p> +<p>The doors were thrown open. Contarino entered hastily, +enveloped in his cloak.</p> +<p>“Good evening, sweet gentlemen,” said he, and +threw his mantle aside. And Memmo, Parozzi, and Falieri +started back in horror.</p> +<p>“Good God!” they exclaimed, “what has +happened? You are covered with blood?”</p> +<p>“A trifle!” cried Contarino; “is that wine? +quick, give me a goblet of it, I expire with thirst.”</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i> (while he gives him a cup).—But, +Contarino, you bleed?</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—You need not tell me that. I did +not do it myself, I promise you.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—First let us bind up your wounds, and +then tell us what has happened to you. It is as well that +the servants should remain ignorant of your adventure; I will be +your surgeon myself.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—What has happened to me, say +you? Oh! a joke, gentlemen, a mere joke. Here, +Falieri, fill the bowl again.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—I can scarcely breathe for terror.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Very possibly; neither should I, were +I Memmo instead of being Contarino. The wound bleeds +plenteously it’s true, but it’s by no means dangerous +(he tore open his doublet, and uncovered his bosom). There, +look, comrades; you see it’s only a cut of not more than +two inches deep.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i> (shuddering).—Mercy on me! the very sight +of it makes my blood run cold.</p> +<p>Parozzi brought ointments and linen, and bound up the wound of +his associate.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Old Horace is in the right. A +philosopher can be anything he pleases, a cobbler, a king, or a +physician. Only observe with what dignified address the +philosopher Parozzi spreads that plaster for me. I thank +you, friend; that’s enough: and now, comrades, place +yourselves in a circle round me, and listen to the wonders which +I am going to relate.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Proceed.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—As soon as it was twilight, I stole +out, wrapped in my cloak, determined if possible to discover some +of the banditti. I knew not their persons, neither were +they acquainted with mine. An extravagant undertaking, +perhaps, you will tell me; but I was resolved to convince you +that everything which a man <i>determines</i> to do, may be +done. I had some information respecting the rascals, though +it was but slight, and on these grounds I proceeded. I +happened by mere accident to stumble upon a gondolier, whose +appearance excited my curiosity. I fell into discourse with +him. I was soon convinced that he was not ignorant of the +lurking-place of the bravoes, and by means of some gold and many +fair speeches, I at length brought him to confess that though not +regularly belonging to the band, he had occasionally been +employed by them. I immediately made a bargain with him; he +conducted me in his gondola through the greatest part of Venice, +sometimes right, sometimes left, till I lost every idea as to the +quarter of the town in which I found myself. At length he +insisted on binding my eyes with his handkerchief, and I was +compelled to submit. Half an hour elapsed before the +gondola stopped. He told me to descend, conducted me +through a couple of streets, and at length knocked at a door, +where he left me still blindfolded. The door was opened; my +business was inquired with great caution, and after some demur I +was at length admitted. The handkerchief was now withdrawn +from my eyes, and I found myself in a small chamber, surrounded +by four men of not the most creditable appearance, and a young +woman, who (it seems) had opened the door for me.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—You are a daring fellow, Contarino.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Here was no time to be lost. I +instantly threw my purse on the table, promised them mountains of +gold, and fixed on particular days, hours, and signals which were +necessary to facilitate our future intercourse. For the +present I only required that Manfrone, Conari, and Lomellino +should be removed with all possible expedition.</p> +<p><i>All</i>.—Bravo.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—So far everything went exactly as we +could have wished, and one of my new associates was just setting +out to guide me home, when we were surprised by an unexpected +visit.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Well?</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i> (anxiously).—Go on, for God’s +sake!</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—A knocking was heard at the door; the +girl went to inquire the cause. In an instant she returned +pale as a corpse, and “Fly! fly!” cried she.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—What followed?</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Why then followed a whole legion of +sbirri and police-officers, and who should be at their head but +the Florentine stranger.</p> +<p><i>All</i>.—Flodoardo? What, Flodoardo?</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Flodoardo.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—What demon could have guided him +thither?</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Hell and furies! Oh, that I had +been there.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—There, now, Parozzi, you see at least that +Flodoardo is no coward.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Hush, let us hear the rest.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—We stood as if we had been petrified; +not a soul could stir a finger. “In the name of the +Doge and the Republic,” cried Flodoardo, “yield +yourselves and deliver your arms.” “The devil +shall yield himself sooner than we,” exclaimed one of the +banditti, and forced a sword from one of the officers. The +others snatched their muskets from the walls; and as for me, my +first care was to extinguish the lamp so that we could not tell +friends from foes. But still the confounded moonshine +gleamed through the window-shutters, and shed a partial light +through the room. “Look to yourself, +Contarino,” thought I; “if you are found here, you +will be hanged for company,” and I drew my sword and made a +plunge at Flodoardo; but, however well intended, my thrust was +foiled by his sabre, which he whirled around with the rapidity of +lightning. I fought like a madman, but all my skill was +without effect on this occasion, and before I was aware of it, +Flodoardo ripped open my bosom. I felt myself wounded, and +sprang back. At that moment two pistols were fired, and the +flash discovered to me a small side door, which they had +neglected to beset. Through this I stole unperceived into +the adjoining chamber, burst open the grated window, sprang below +unhurt, crossed a courtyard, climbed two or three garden walls, +gained the canal, where a gondola fortunately was waiting, +persuaded the boatman to convey me with all speed to the Place of +St. Mark, and thence hastened hither, astonished to find myself +still alive. There’s an infernal adventure for +you.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—I shall go mad.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Everything we design is counteracted; +the more trouble we give ourselves, the further we are from the +goal.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—I confess it seems to me as if Heaven gave +us warning to desist. How say you?</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Pshaw, these are trifles! Such +accidents should only serve to sharpen our wits. The more +obstacles I encounter, the firmer is my resolution to surmount +them.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Do the banditti know who you are?</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—No; they are not only ignorant of my +name, but suppose me to be a mere instrument of some powerful +man, who has been injured by the ducal confederates.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Well, Contarino, in my mind you should +thank Heaven that you have escaped so well.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—But since he is an absolute stranger in +Venice, how could Flodoardo discover the lurking place of the +banditti?</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—I know not; probably by mere accident +like myself, but by the Power that made me, he shall pay dearly +for this wound.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Flodoardo is rather too hasty in making +himself remarked.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Flodoardo must die.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i> (filling a goblet).—May his next cup +contain poison.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—I shall do myself the honour of becoming +better acquainted with the gentleman.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Memmo, we must needs have full purses, +or our business will hang on hand wofully.</p> +<p>When does your uncle take his departure to a better world?</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—To-morrow evening, and yet—ugh, I +tremble.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER III.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">MORE CONFUSION.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Since</span> Rosabella’s birthday, +no woman in Venice who had the slightest pretensions to beauty, +or the most remote expectations of making conquests, had any +subject of conversation except the handsome Florentine. He +found employment for every female tongue, and she who dared not +to employ her tongue, made amends for the privation with her +thoughts. Many a maiden now enjoyed less tranquil slumbers; +many an experienced coquette sighed as she laid on her colour at +the looking glass; many a prude forgot the rules which she had +imposed upon herself, and daily frequented the gardens and walks +in which report gave her the hope of meeting Flodoardo.</p> +<p>But from the time that, placing himself at the head of the +sbirri, he had dared to enter boldly the den of the banditti, and +seize them at the hazard of his life, he was scarcely more an +object of attention among the women than among the men. +Greatly did they admire his courage and unshaken presence of mind +while engaged in so perilous an adventure; but still more were +they astonished at his penetration in discovering where the +bravoes concealed themselves, an attempt which foiled even the +keen wits of the so much celebrated police of Venice.</p> +<p>The Doge Andreas cultivated the acquaintance of this singular +young man with increasing assiduity; and the more he conversed +with him, the more deserving of consideration did Flodoardo +appear. The action by which he had rendered the Republic a +service so essential was rewarded by a present that would not +have disgraced Imperial gratitude, and one of the most important +offices of the State was confided to his superintendence.</p> +<p>Both favours were conferred unsolicited, but no sooner was the +Florentine apprised of the Doge’s benevolent care of him, +than with modesty and respect he requested to decline the +proposed advantages. The only favour which he requested +was, to be permitted to live free and independent in Venice +during a year, at the end of which he promised to name that +employment which he esteemed the best adapted to his abilities +and inclination.</p> +<p>Flodoardo was lodged in the magnificent palace of his good old +patron, Lomellino, here he lived in the closest retirement, +studied the most valuable parts of ancient and modern literature, +remained for whole days together in his own apartment, and was +seldom to be seen in public except upon some great solemnity.</p> +<p>But the Doge, Lomellino, Manfrone, and Conari, men who had +established the fame of Venice on so firm a basis that it would +require centuries to undermine it; men in whose society one +seemed to be withdrawn from the circle of ordinary mortals, and +honoured by the intercourse of superior beings, men who now +graciously received the Florentine stranger into their intimacy, +and resolved to spare no pains in forming him to support the +character of a great man; it could not long escape the +observation of men like these, that Flodoardo’s gaiety was +assumed, and that a secret sorrow preyed upon his heart.</p> +<p>In vain did Lomellino, who loved him like a father, endeavour +to discover the source of his melancholy; in vain did the +venerable Doge exert himself to dispel the gloom which oppressed +his young favourite. Flodoardo remained silent and sad.</p> +<p>And Rosabella? Rosabella would have belied her sex had +she remained gay while Flodoardo sorrowed. Her spirits were +flown, her eyes were frequently obscured with tears. She +grew daily paler and paler, till the Doge, who doted on her, was +seriously alarmed for her health. At length Rosabella grew +really ill; a fever fixed itself upon her; she became weak, and +was confined to her chamber, and her complaint baffled the skill +of the most experienced physicians in Venice.</p> +<p>In the midst of these unpleasant circumstances in which +Andreas and his friends now found themselves, an incident +occurred one morning, which raised their uneasiness to the very +highest pitch. Never had so bold and audacious an action +been heard of in Venice, as that which I am going to relate.</p> +<p>The four banditti, whom Flodoardo had seized, Pietrino, +Struzza, Baluzza, and Thomaso, had been safely committed to the +Doge’s dungeons, where they underwent a daily examination, +and looked upon every sun that rose as the last that would ever +rise for <i>them</i>. Andreas and his confidential +counsellors now flattered themselves that the public tranquillity +had nothing more to apprehend, and that Venice was now completely +purified of the miscreants, whom gold could bribe to be the +instruments of revenge and cruelty; when all at once the +following address was discovered, affixed to most of the +remarkable statues, and pasted against the corners of the +principal streets, and pillars of the public +buildings:—</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“VENETIANS!</p> +<p>“Struzza, Thomaso, Pietrino, Baluzza, and Matteo, five +as brave men as the world ever produced, who, had they stood at +the head of armies, would have been called <i>heroes</i>, and now +being called <i>banditti</i>, are fallen victims to the injustice +of State policy. These men, it is true, exist for you no +longer; but their place is supplied by him, whose name is affixed +to this paper, and who will stand by his employers with body and +with soul. I laugh at the vigilance of the Venetian police; +I laugh at the crafty and insolent Florentine, whose hand has +dragged his brethren to the rack. Let those who need me, +seek me; they will find me everywhere! Let those who seek +me with the design of delivering me up to the law, despair and +tremble; they will find me nowhere, but <i>I</i> shall find +<i>them</i>, and that when they least expect me! Venetians, +you understand me! Woe to the man who shall attempt to +discover me; his life and death depend upon my pleasure. +This comes from the Venetian Bravo, <span +class="smcap">Abellino</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“A hundred sequins,” exclaimed the incensed Doge, +on reading the paper, “a hundred sequins to him who +discovers this monster Abellino, and a thousand to him who +delivers him up to justice.”</p> +<p>But in vain did spies ransack every lurking place in Venice; +no Abellino was to be found. In vain did the luxurious, the +avaricious, and the hungry stretch their wits to the utmost, +incited by the tempting promise of a thousand sequins. +Abellino’s prudence set all their ingenuity at +defiance.</p> +<p>But not the less did every one assert that he had recognised +Abellino, sometimes in one disguise, and sometimes in another, as +an old man, a gondolier, a woman, or a monk. Everybody had +seen him somewhere; but, unluckily, nobody could tell where he +was to be seen again.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER IV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE VIOLET.</span></h3> +<p>I <span class="smcap">informed</span> my readers, in the +beginning of the last chapter, that Flodoardo was become +melancholy, and that Rosabella was indisposed, but I did not tell +them what had occasioned this sudden change.</p> +<p>Flodoardo, who on his first arrival at Venice was all gaiety, +and the life of every society in which he mingled, lost his +spirits on one particular day; and it so happened that it was on +the very same day that Rosabella betrayed the first symptoms of +indisposition.</p> +<p>For on this unlucky day did the caprice of accident, or +perhaps the Goddess of Love (who has her caprices too every now +and then), conduct Rosabella into her uncle’s garden, which +none but the Doge’s intimate friends were permitted to +enter; and where the Doge himself frequently reposed in solitude +and silence during the evening hours of a sultry day.</p> +<p>Rosabella, lost in thought, wandered listless and unconscious +along the broad and shady alleys of the garden. Sometimes, +in a moment of vexation, she plucked the unoffending leaves from +the hedges and strewed them upon the ground; sometimes she +stopped suddenly, then rushed forward with impetuosity, then +again stood still, and gazed upon the clear blue heaven. +Sometimes her beautiful bosom was heaved with quick and irregular +motion, and sometimes a half-suppressed sigh escaped from her +lips of coral.</p> +<p>“He is very handsome!” she murmured, and gazed +with such eagerness on vacancy, as though she had there seen +something which was hidden from the sight of common +observers.</p> +<p>“Yet Camilla is in the right,” she resumed, after +a pause, and she frowned as had she said that Camilla was in the +wrong.</p> +<p>This Camilla was her governess, her friend, her confidante, I +may almost say her mother. Rosabella had lost her parents +early. Her mother died when her child could scarcely lisp +her name; and her father, Guiscardo of Corfu, the commander of a +Venetian vessel, eight years before had perished in an engagement +with the Turks, while he was still in the prime of life. +Camilla, one of the worthiest creatures that ever dignified the +name of woman, supplied to Rosabella the place of mother, had +brought her up from infancy, and was now her best friend, and the +person to whose ear she confided all her little secrets.</p> +<p>While Rosabella was still buried in her own reflections, the +excellent Camilla advanced from a side path, and hastened to join +her pupil. Rosabella started.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—Ah! dear Camilla, is it you? +What brings you hither?</p> +<p><i>Camilla</i>.—You often call me your guardian angel, +and guardian angels should always be near the object of their +care.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—Camilla, I have been thinking over +your arguments; I cannot deny that all you have said to me is +very true, and very wise, but still—</p> +<p><i>Camilla</i>.—But still, though your prudence agrees +with me, your heart is of a contrary opinion.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—It is, indeed.</p> +<p><i>Camilla</i>.—Nor do I blame your heart for differing +from me, my poor girl. I have acknowledged to you without +disguise that were <i>I</i> at your time of life, and were such a +man as Flodoardo to throw himself in my way, I could not receive +his attentions with indifference. It cannot be denied that +this young stranger is uncommonly pleasing, and, indeed, for any +woman whose heart is disengaged, an uncommonly <i>dangerous</i> +companion. There is something very prepossessing in his +appearance, his manners are elegant, and short as has been his +abode in Venice, it is already past doubting that there are many +noble and striking features in his character. But alas, +after all, he is but a poor nobleman, and it is not very probable +that the rich and powerful Doge of Venice will ever bestow his +niece on one who, to speak plainly, arrived here little better +than a beggar. No, no, child, believe me, a romantic +adventurer is no fit husband for Rosabella of Corfu.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—Dear Camilla, who was talking about +husbands? What I feel for Flodoardo is merely affection, +friendship.</p> +<p><i>Camilla</i>.—Indeed! Then you would be +perfectly satisfied, should some one of our wealthy ladies bestow +her hand on Flodoardo?</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i> (hastily).—Oh! Flodoardo would not +<i>accept</i> her hand, Camilla; of that I am sure.</p> +<p><i>Camilla</i>.—Child, child, you would willingly +deceive yourself. But be assured that a girl who loves ever +connects, perhaps unconsciously, the wish for an eternal +<i>union</i> with the idea of eternal <i>affection</i>. Now +this is a wish which you cannot indulge in regard to Flodoardo +without seriously offending your uncle, who, good man as he is, +must still submit to the severe control of politics and +etiquette.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—I know all that, Camilla, but can I +not make you comprehend that I am not in love with Flodoardo, and +do not mean to be in love with him, and that love has nothing at +all to do in the business? I repeat to you, what I feel for +him is nothing but sincere and fervent friendship; and surely +Flodoardo deserves that I should feel that sentiment for +him. Deserves it, said I? Oh, what does Flodoardo +<i>not</i> deserve?</p> +<p><i>Camilla</i>.—Ay, ay, friendship, indeed, and +love. Oh, Rosabella, you know not how often these deceivers +borrow each other’s mask to ensnare the hearts of +unsuspecting maidens. You know not how often love finds +admission, when wrapped in friendship’s cloak, into that +bosom, which, had he approached under his own appearance, would +have been closed against him for ever. In short, my child, +reflect how much you owe to your uncle; reflect how much +uneasiness this inclination would cost him; and sacrifice to duty +what at present is a mere caprice, but which, if encouraged, +might make too deep an impression on your heart to be afterwards +removed by your best efforts.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—You say right, Camilla. I really +believe myself that my prepossession in Flodoardo’s favour +is merely an accidental fancy, of which I shall easily get the +better. No, no; I am not in love with Flodoardo—of +that you may rest assured. I even think that I rather feel +an antipathy towards him, since you have shown me the possibility +of his making me prove a cause of uneasiness to my kind, my +excellent uncle.</p> +<p><i>Camilla</i> (smiling).—Are your sentiments of duty +and gratitude so very strong?</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—Oh, that they are, Camilla; and so you +will say yourself hereafter. This disagreeable +Flodoardo—to give me so much vexation! I wish he had +never come to Venice. I declare I do not like him at +all.</p> +<p><i>Camilla</i>.—No—what! Not like +Flodoardo?</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i> (casting down her eyes).—No, not at +all. Not that I wish him ill, either, for you know, +Camilla, there’s no reason why I should hate this poor +Flodoardo!</p> +<p><i>Camilla</i>.—Well, we will resume this subject when I +return. I have business, and the gondola waits for +me. Farewell, my child; and do not lay aside your +resolution as hastily as you took it up.</p> +<p><i>Camilla</i> departed, and Rosabella remained melancholy and +uncertain. She built castles in the air, and destroyed them +as soon as built. She formed wishes, and condemned herself +for having formed them. She looked round her frequently in +search of something, but dared not confess to herself what it was +of which she was in search.</p> +<p>The evening was sultry, and Rosabella was compelled to shelter +herself from the sun’s overpowering heat. In the +garden was a small fountain, bordered by a bank of moss, over +which the magic hands of art and nature had formed a canopy of +ivy and jessamine. Thither she bent her steps. She +arrived at the fountain, and instantly drew back, covered with +blushes, for on the bank of moss, shaded by the protecting +canopy, whose waving blossoms were reflected on the fountain, +Flodoardo was seated, and fixed his eyes on a roll of +parchment.</p> +<p>Rosabella hesitated whether she should retire or stay. +Flodoardo started from his place, apparently in no less confusion +than herself, and relieved her from her indecision by taking her +hand with respect, and conducting her to the seat which he had +just quitted.</p> +<p>Now, then, she could not possibly retire immediately, unless +she meant to violate every common principle of good breeding.</p> +<p>Her hand was still clasped in Flodoardo’s; but it was so +natural for him to take it, that she could not blame him for +having done so. But what was she next to do? Draw her +hand away? Why should she, since he did her hand no harm by +keeping it, and the keeping it seemed to make him so happy? +And how could the gentle Rosabella resolve to commit an act of +such unheard-of cruelty as wilfully to deprive any one of a +pleasure which made him so happy, and which did herself no +harm?</p> +<p>“Signora,” said Flodoardo, merely for the sake of +saying something, “you do well to enjoy the open air. +The evening is beautiful.”</p> +<p>“But I interrupt your studies, my lord,” said +Rosabella.</p> +<p>“By no means,” answered Flodoardo; and there this +interesting conversation came to a full stop. Both looked +down; both examined the heaven and the earth, the trees and the +flowers, in the hopes of finding some hints for renewing the +conversation; but the more anxiously they sought them, the more +difficult did it seem to find what they sought; and in this +painful embarrassment did two whole precious minutes elapse.</p> +<p>“Ah, what a beautiful flower!” suddenly cried +Rosabella, in order to break the silence, then stooped and +plucked a violet with an appearance of the greatest eagerness, +though, in fact, nothing at that moment could have been more a +matter of indifference.</p> +<p>“It is a very beautiful flower, indeed,” gravely +observed Flodoardo, and was out of all patience with himself for +having made so flat a speech.</p> +<p>“Nothing can surpass this purple,” continued +Rosabella; “red and blue so happily blended, that no +painter can produce so perfect a union.”</p> +<p>“Red and blue—the one the symbol of happiness, the +other of affection. Ah, Rosabella! how enviable will be +that man’s lot on whom your hand shall bestow such a +flower. Happiness and affection are not more inseparably +united than the red and blue which purple that violet.”</p> +<p>“You seem to attach a value to the flower of which it is +but little deserving.”</p> +<p>“Might I but know on whom Rosabella will one day bestow +what that flower expresses. Yet, this is a subject which I +have no right to discuss. I know not what has happened to +me to-day. I make nothing but blunders and mistakes. +Forgive my presumption, lady. I will hazard such forward +inquiries no more.”</p> +<p>He was silent. Rosabella was silent also.</p> +<p>But though they could forbid their lips to betray their hidden +affection; though Rosabella said not—“Thou art he on +whom this flower shall be bestowed:” though +Flodoardo’s words had not expressed—“Rosabella, +give me that violet, and that which it implies”—oh, +their eyes were far from being silent. Those treacherous +interpreters of secret feelings acknowledged more to each other +than their hearts had yet acknowledged to themselves.</p> +<p>Flodoardo and Rosabella gazed on each other with looks which +made all speech unnecessary. Sweet, tender, and +enthusiastic was the smile which played around Rosabella’s +lips when her eyes met those of the youth whom she had selected +from the rest of mankind; and with mingled emotions of hope and +fear did the youth study the meaning of that smile. He +understood it, and his heart beat louder, and his eye flamed +brighter.</p> +<p>Rosabella trembled; her eyes could no longer sustain the fire +of his glances, and a modest blush overspread her face and +bosom.</p> +<p>“Rosabella!” at length murmured Flodoardo, +unconsciously; “Flodoardo!” sighed Rosabella, in the +same tone.</p> +<p>“Give me that violet!” he exclaimed, eagerly, then +sank at her feet, and in a tone of the most humble supplication +repeated, “Oh, give it to me!”</p> +<p>Rosabella held the flower fast.</p> +<p>“Ask for it what thou wilt. If a throne can +purchase it, I will pay that price, or perish. Rosabella, +give me that flower!”</p> +<p>She stole one look at the handsome suppliant and dared not +hazard a second.</p> +<p>“My repose, my happiness, my life—nay, even my +glory, all depend on the possession of that little flower. +Let that be mine, and here I solemnly renounce all else which the +world calls precious.”</p> +<p>The flower trembled in her snowy hand. Her fingers +clasped it less firmly.</p> +<p>“You hear me, Rosabella? I kneel at your feet; and +am I then in vain a beggar?”</p> +<p>The word “beggar” recalled to her memory Camilla +and her prudent counsels. “What am I doing?” +she said to herself. “Have I forgotten my promise, my +resolution? Fly, Rosabella, fly, or this hour makes you +faithless to yourself and duty.”</p> +<p>She tore the flower to pieces, and threw it contemptuously on +the ground.</p> +<p>“I understand you, Flodoardo,” said she; +“and having understood you, will never suffer this subject +to be renewed. Here let us part, and let me not again be +offended by a similar presumption. Farewell!”</p> +<p>She turned from him with disdain, and left Flodoardo rooted to +his place with sorrow and astonishment.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER V.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE ASSASSIN.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Scarcely</span> had she reached her +chamber ere Rosabella repented her having acted so +courageously. It was cruel in her, she thought, to have +given him so harsh an answer. She recollected with what +hopeless and melancholy looks the poor thunderstruck youth had +followed her steps as she turned to leave him. She fancied +that she saw him stretched despairing on the earth, his hair +dishevelled, his eyes filled with tears. She heard him term +her the murderess of his repose, pray for death as his only +refuge; and she saw him with every moment approach towards the +attainment of his prayer through the tears which he shed on her +account. Already she heard those dreadful +words—“Flodoardo is no more.” Already she +saw the sympathising multitude weep round the tomb of him whom +all the virtuous loved, and whom the wicked dreaded; whom all his +friends adored, and whom even his enemies admired.</p> +<p>“Alas! alas!” cried she, “this was but a +wretched attempt to play the heroine. Already does my +resolution fail me. Ah, Flodoardo! I meant not what I +said. I love you—love you now, and must love you +always, though Camilla may chide, and though my good uncle may +hate me.”</p> +<p>In a few days after this interview she understood that an +extraordinary alteration had taken place in Flodoardo’s +manner and appearance; that he had withdrawn himself from all +general society; and that when the solicitations of his intimate +friends compelled him to appear in their circle, his spirits +seemed evidently depressed by the weight of an unconquerable +melancholy.</p> +<p>This intelligence was like the stroke of a poniard to the +feeling heart of Rosabella. She fled for shelter to the +solitude of her chamber, there indulged her feelings without +restraint, and lamented, with showers of repentant tears, her +harsh treatment of Flodoardo.</p> +<p>The grief which preyed in secret on her soul soon undermined +her health. No one could relieve her sufferings, for no one +knew the cause of her melancholy, or the origin of her +illness. No wonder, then, that Rosabella’s situation +at length excited the most bitter anxiety in the bosom of her +venerable uncle. No wonder, too, that Flodoardo entirely +withdrew himself from a world which was become odious to him, +since Rosabella was to be seen in it no longer; and that he +devoted himself in solitude to the indulgence of a passion which +he had vainly endeavoured to subdue, and which, in the +impetuosity of its course, had already swallowed up every other +wish, and every other sentiment.</p> +<p>But let us for the moment turn from the sick chamber of +Rosabella, and visit the dwellings of the conspirators, who were +now advancing with rapid strides towards the execution of their +plans; and who, with every hour that passed over their heads, +became more numerous, more powerful, and more dangerous to +Andreas and his beloved Republic.</p> +<p>Parozzi, Memmo, Contarino, Falieri, the chiefs of this +desperate undertaking, now assembled frequently in the Cardinal +Gonzaga’s palace, where different plans for altering the +constitution of Venice were brought forward and discussed. +But in all different schemes it was evident that the proposer was +solely actuated by considerations of private interest. The +object of one was to get free from the burden of enormous debts; +another was willing to sacrifice everything to gratify his +inordinate ambition. The cupidity of <i>this</i> man was +excited by the treasures of Andreas and his friends; while +<i>that</i> was actuated by resentment of some fancied offence, a +resentment which could only be quenched with the offender’s +blood.</p> +<p>These execrable wretches, who aimed at nothing less than the +total overthrow of Venice, or at least of her government, looked +towards the completion of their extravagant hopes with the +greater confidence, since a new but necessary addition to the +already existing taxes had put the Venetian populace out of +humour with their rulers.</p> +<p>Rich enough, both in adherents and in wealth, to realise their +projects, rich enough in bold, shrewd, desperate men, whose minds +were well adapted to the contrivance and execution of +revolutionary projects, they now looked down with contempt upon +the good old Doge, who as yet entertained no suspicion of their +nocturnal meetings.</p> +<p>Still did they not dare to carry their projects into effect, +till some principal persons in the State should be prevented by +<i>death</i> from throwing obstacles in their way. For the +accomplishment of this part of their plan they relied on the +daggers of the banditti. Dreadful therefore was the sound +in their ears, when the bell gave the signal for execution, and +they saw their best-founded hopes expire on the scaffold, which +supported the headless trunks of the four bravoes. But if +their consternation was great at thus losing the destined +instruments of their designs, how extravagant was their joy when +the proud Abellino dared openly to declare to Venice that he +still inhabited the Republic, and that he still wore a dagger at +the disposal of Vice.</p> +<p>“This desperado is the very man for us!” they +exclaimed unanimously, and in rapture; and now their most ardent +wish was to enroll Abellino in their services.</p> +<p>Their object was soon attained—they sought the daring +ruffian, and he suffered himself to be found. He visited +their meetings, but in his promises and demands he was equally +extravagant.</p> +<p>The first and most earnest wish of the whole conspiracy was +the death of Conari, the Procurator, a man whom the Doge valued +beyond all others, a man whose eagle eyes made the conspirators +hourly tremble for their secret, and whose service the Doge had +accepted, in preference to those of the Cardinal Gonzaga. +But the sum which Abellino demanded for the murder of this one +man was enormous.</p> +<p>“Give me the reward which I require,” said he, +“and I promise, on the word of a man of honour, that after +this night the Procurator, Conari, shall give you no further +trouble. Exalt him to heaven, or imprison him in hell, +I’ll engage to find and stab him.”</p> +<p>What could they do? Abellino was not a man to be easily +beat down in his demands. The Cardinal was impatient to +attain the summit of his wishes; but his road lay straight over +Conari’s grave!</p> +<p>Abellino received the sum demanded; the next day the venerable +Conari, the Doge’s best and dearest friend, the pride and +safeguard of the Republic, was no longer numbered among the +living.</p> +<p>“’Tis a terrible fellow, this Abellino!” +cried the conspirators, when the news reached them, and +celebrated the Procurator’s death in triumph at the +Cardinal’s midnight feast.</p> +<p>The Doge was almost distracted with terror and +astonishment. He engaged to give ten thousand sequins to +any one who should discover by whom Conari had been removed from +the world. A proclamation to this effect was published at +the corner of every street in Venice, and made known throughout +the territories of the Republic. A few days after this +proclamation had been made, a paper was discovered affixed to the +principal door of the Venetian Signoria.</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“VENETIANS!</p> +<p>“You would fain know the author of Conari’s +death. To spare you much fruitless trouble, I hereby +acknowledge that I, Abellino, was his assassin.</p> +<p>“Twice did I bury my dagger in his heart, and then sent +his body to feed the fishes. The Doge promises <i>ten</i> +thousand sequins to him who shall discover Conari’s +murderer; and to him who shall be clever enough to <i>seize</i> +him, Abellino hereby promises <i>twenty</i>. Adieu, +Signors. I remain your faithful servant,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“<span +class="smcap">Abellino</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<h3>CHAPTER VI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE TWO GREATEST MEN IN +VENICE.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> must be superfluous to inform my +readers that all Venice became furious at this new +insolence. Within the memory of man had no one ever treated +with such derision the celebrated Venetian police, or set the +Doge’s power at defiance with such proud temerity. +This occurrence threw the whole city into confusion; every one +was on the look-out; the patrols were doubled; the sbirri +extended their researches on all sides; yet no one could see, or +hear, or discover the most distant trace of Abellino.</p> +<p>The priests in their sermons strove to rouse the slumbering +vengeance of Heaven to crush this insolent offender. The +ladies were ready to swoon at the very name of Abellino, for who +could assure them that, at some unexpected moment, he might not +pay <i>them</i> the same compliment which he had paid to +Rosabella? As for the old women, they unanimously asserted +that Abellino had sold himself to the Prince of Darkness, by +whose assistance he was enabled to sport with the patience of all +pious Venetians, and deride the impotence of their just +indignation. The Cardinal and his associates were proud of +their terrible confederate, and looking forward with confidence +to the triumphant issue of their undertaking. The deserted +family of Conari called down curses on his murderer’s head, +and wished that their tears might be changed into a sea of +sulphur, in whose waves they might plunge the monster Abellino; +nor did Conari’s relations feel more grief for his loss +than the Doge and his two confidants, who swore never to rest +till they had discovered the lurking-place of this ruthless +assassin, and had punished his crime with tenfold vengeance.</p> +<p>“Yet, after all,” said Andreas one evening, as he +sat alone in his private chamber, “after all, it must be +confessed that this Abellino is a singular man. He who can +do what Abellino has done must possess both such talents and such +courage as, stood he at the head of an army, would enable him to +conquer half the world. Would that I could once get a sight +of him!”</p> +<p>“Look up, then!” roared Abellino, and clapped the +Doge on the shoulder. Andreas started from his seat. +A colossal figure stood before him, wrapped in a dark mantle +above which appeared a countenance so hideous and forbidding, +that the universe could not have produced its equal.</p> +<p>“Who art thou?” stammered out the Doge.</p> +<p>“Thou seest me, and canst doubt? Well, then, I am +Abellino, the good friend of your murdered Conari, the +Republic’s most submissive slave.”</p> +<p>The brave Andreas, who had never trembled in fight by land or +by sea, and for whom no danger had possessed terrors sufficient +to shake his undaunted resolution, the brave Andreas now forgot +for a few moments his usual presence of mind. Speechless +did he gaze on the daring assassin, who stood before him calm and +haughty, unappalled by the majesty of the greatest man in +Venice.</p> +<p>Abellino nodded to him with an air of familiar protection, and +graciously condescended to grin upon him with a kind of +half-friendly smile.</p> +<p>“Abellino,” said the Doge, at length, endeavouring +to recollect himself, “thou art a fearful—a +detestable man.”</p> +<p>“Fearful?” answered the bravo; “dost thou +think me so? Good, that glads me to the very heart! +Detestable? that may be so, or it may not. I confess, the +sign which I hang out gives no great promise of good +entertainment within; but yet, Andreas, one thing is +certain. You and I stand on the same line, for at this +moment we are the two greatest men in Venice; you in your way, I +in mine.”</p> +<p>The Doge could not help smiling at the bravo’s familiar +tone.</p> +<p>“Nay, nay,” continued Abellino, “no smiles +of disbelief, if you please. Allow me, though a bravo, to +compare myself to a Doge; truly, I think there’s no great +presumption in placing myself on a level with a man whom I hold +in my power, and who therefore is in fact beneath me.”</p> +<p>The Doge made a movement, as he would have left him.</p> +<p>“Not so fast,” said Abellino, laughing rudely, and +he barred the Doge’s passage. “Accident seldom +unites in so small a space as this chamber a pair of such great +men. Stay where you are, for I have not done with you yet; +we must have a little conversation.”</p> +<p>“Hear me, Abellino,” said the Doge, mustering up +all the dignity which he possessed; “thou hast received +great talents from Nature: why dost thou employ them to so little +advantage? I here promise you, on my most sacred word, +pardon for the past, and protection for the future, will you but +name to me the villain who bribed you to assassinate Conari, +abjure your bloody trade, and accept an honest employment in the +service of the Republic. If this offer is rejected, at +least quit with all speed the territory of Venice, or I +swear—”</p> +<p>“Ho! ho!” interrupted Abellino; “pardon and +protection, say you? It is long since I thought it worth my +while to care for such trifles. Abellino is able to protect +himself without foreign aid; and, as to pardon, mortals cannot +give absolution for sins like mine. On that day, when all +men must give in the list of their offences, then, too, will I +give in mine, but till then never. You would know the name +of him who bribed me to be Conari’s murderer? Well, +well, you shall know it, but not to-day. I must quit with +all speed the Venetian territory? and wherefore; through fear of +thee? Ho! ho! Through fear of Venice? Ha, +Abellino fears not Venice; ’tis Venice that fears +Abellino! You would have me abjure my profession? +Well, Andreas, there is one condition, which, +perhaps—”</p> +<p>“Name it,” cried the Doge, eagerly; “will +ten thousand sequins purchase your departure from the +Republic?”</p> +<p>“I would gladly give you twice as much myself, could you +recall the insult of offering Abellino so miserable a +bribe! No, Andreas, but one price can pay me: give me your +niece for my bride. I love Rosabella, the daughter of +Guiscard of Corfu.”</p> +<p>“Monster—what insolence!”</p> +<p>“Ho! ho! Patience, patience, good uncle, that is +to be. Will you accept my terms?”</p> +<p>“Name what sum will satisfy you, and it shall be yours +this instant, so you will only relieve Venice from your +presence. Though it should cost the Republic a million she +will be a gainer, if her air is no longer poisoned by your +breath.”</p> +<p>“Indeed! Why, in fact, a million is not so great a +sum; for look you, Andreas, I have just sold for near <i>half</i> +a million the lives of your two dear friends, Manfrone and +Lomellino. Now give me Rosabella, and I break the +bargain.”</p> +<p>“Miscreant! Has Heaven no lightnings?”</p> +<p>“You will not? Mark me! In four-and-twenty +hours shall Manfrone and Lomellino be food for fishes. +Abellino has said it. Away!”</p> +<p>And with these words he drew a pistol from under his cloak, +and flashed it in the Doge’s face. Blinded by the +powder, and confused by the unexpected explosion, Andreas started +back, and sunk bewildered on a neighbouring sofa. He soon +recovered from his astonishment. He sprang from his seat to +summon his guards and seize Abellino; but Abellino had already +disappeared.</p> +<p>On that same evening were Parozzi and his confederates +assembled in the palace of the Cardinal Gonzaga. The table +was spread with the most luxurious profusion, and they arranged +over their flowing goblets plans for the Republic’s +ruin. The Cardinal related how he had of late contrived to +insinuate himself into the Doge’s good graces, and had +succeeded in impressing him with an opinion that the chiefs of +the confederacy were fit men to hold offices of important +trust. Contarino boasted that he doubted not before long to +be appointed to the vacant procuratorship. Parozzi reckoned +for <i>his</i> share upon Rosabella’s hand, and the place +either of Lomellino or Manfrone, when once those two chief +obstacles to his hope should be removed. Such was the +conversation in which they were engaged, when the clock struck +twelve, the doors flew wide, and Abellino stood before them.</p> +<p>“Wine, there!” cried he; “the work is +done. Manfrone and Lomellino are at supper with the +worms. And I have thrown the Doge himself into such a fit +of terror that I warrant he will not recover himself +easily. Now answer are you content with me, you +bloodhounds?”</p> +<p>“Next, then, for Flodoardo!” shouted Parozzi.</p> +<p>“Flodoardo!” muttered Abellino between his teeth; +“hum—hum—that’s not so easy.”</p> +<h2>Book the Third.</h2> +<h3>CHAPTER I.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE LOVERS.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Rosabella</span>, the idol of all Venice, +lay on the bed of sickness; a sorrow, whose cause was carefully +concealed from every one, undermined her health, and destroyed +the bloom of her beauty. She loved the noble Flodoardo; and +who could have known Flodoardo and not have loved him? His +majestic stature, his expressive countenance, his enthusiastic +glance, his whole being declared aloud—Flodoardo is +Nature’s favourite, and Rosabella had been always a great +admirer of Nature.</p> +<p>But if Rosabella was ill, Flodoardo was scarcely better. +He confined himself to his own apartment; he shunned society, and +frequently made long journeys to different cities of the +Republic, in hopes of distracting his thoughts by change of place +from that object which, wherever he went, still pursued +him. He had now been absent for three whole weeks. No +one knew in what quarter he was wandering; and it was during this +absence that the so-long expected Prince of Monaldeschi arrived +at Venice to claim Rosabella as his bride.</p> +<p>His appearance, to which a month before Andreas looked forward +with such pleasing expectation, now afforded but little +satisfaction to the Doge. Rosabella was too ill to receive +her suitor’s visits, and he did not allow her much time to +recover her health; for six days after his arrival at Venice the +Prince was found murdered in a retired part of one of the public +gardens. His sword lay by him unsheathed and bloody; his +tablets were gone, but one leaf had been torn from them and +fastened on his breast. It was examined, and found to +contain the following lines, apparently written in +blood:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Let no one pretend to Rosabella’s +hand, who is not prepared to share the fate of Monaldeschi.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">“The Bravo,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“<span +class="smcap">Abellino</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Oh, where shall I now fly for comfort? for +protection?” exclaimed the Doge in despair, when this +dreadful news was announced. “Why, why, is Flodoardo +absent?”</p> +<p>Anxiously did he now desire the youth’s return, to +support him under the weight of these heavy misfortunes; nor was +it long before that desire was gratified. Flodoardo +returned.</p> +<p>“Welcome, noble youth!” said the Doge, when he saw +the Florentine enter his apartment. “You must not in +future deprive me of your presence for so long. I am now a +poor forsaken old man. You have heard that +Lomellino—that Manfrone—”</p> +<p>“I know all,” answered Flodoardo, with a +melancholy air.</p> +<p>“Satan has burst his chains, and now inhabits Venice +under the name of Abellino, robbing me of all that my soul holds +precious. Flodoardo, for Heaven’s love, be cautious; +often, during your absence, have I trembled lest the +miscreant’s dagger should have deprived me too of +<i>you</i>. I have much to say to you, my young friend, but +I must defer it till the evening. A foreigner of +consequence has appointed this hour for an audience, and I must +hasten to receive him—but in the evening—”</p> +<p>He was interrupted by the appearance of Rosabella, who, with +tottering steps and pale cheeks, advanced slowly into the +apartment. She saw Flodoardo, and a faint blush overspread +her countenance. Flodoardo rose from his seat, and welcomed +her with an air of distant respect.</p> +<p>“Do not go yet,” said the Doge; “perhaps in +half an hour I may be at liberty: in the meanwhile I leave you to +entertain my poor Rosabella. She has been very ill during +your absence; and I am still uneasy about her health. She +kept her bed till yesterday, and truly I think she has left it +too soon.”</p> +<p>The venerable Doge quitted the apartment, and the lovers once +more found themselves alone. Rosabella drew near the +window; Flodoardo at length ventured to approach it also.</p> +<p>“Signora,” said he, “are you still angry +with me?”</p> +<p>“I am not angry with you,” stammered out +Rosabella, and blushed as she recollected the garden scene.</p> +<p>“And you have quite forgiven my +transgression?”</p> +<p>“Your transgression?” repeated Rosabella, with a +faint smile; “yes, if it was a transgression, I have quite +forgiven it. Dying people ought to pardon those who have +trespassed against them, in order that they, in their turn, may +be pardoned their trespasses against Heaven—and I am dying; +I feel it.”</p> +<p>“Signora!”</p> +<p>“Nay, ’tis past a doubt. It’s true, I +have quitted my sick-bed since yesterday; but I know well that I +am soon to return to it, never to leave it more. And +therefore—therefore, I now ask your pardon, signor, for the +vexation which I was obliged to cause to you the last time we +met.”</p> +<p>Flodoardo replied not.</p> +<p>“Will you not forgive me? You must be very +difficult to appease—very revengeful!”</p> +<p>Flodoardo replied not.</p> +<p>“Will you refuse my offered hand? Shall all be +forgotten?”</p> +<p>“Forgotten, lady? Never, never—every word +and look of yours is stamped on my memory, never to be +effaced. I cannot forget a transaction in which <i>you</i> +bore a part: I cannot forget the scene that passed between us, +every circumstance is too precious and sacred. As to +<i>pardon</i>”—he took her extended hand and pressed +it respectfully to his lips—“I would to Heaven, dear +lady, that you had in truth injured me much, that I might have +much to forgive you. Alas! I have at present nothing to +pardon.”</p> +<p>Both were now silent. At length Rosabella resumed the +conversation by saying—“You have made a long absence +from Venice; did you travel far?”</p> +<p>“I did.”</p> +<p>“And received much pleasure from your +journey?”</p> +<p>“Much; for everywhere I heard the praises of +Rosabella.”</p> +<p>“Count Flodoardo,” she interrupted him with a look +of reprehension, but in a gentle voice, “would you again +offend me?”</p> +<p>“That will soon be out of my power. Perhaps you +can guess what are my present intentions.”</p> +<p>“To resume your travels soon?”</p> +<p>“Exactly so; and the next time that I quit Venice, to +return to it no more.”</p> +<p>“No more?” she repeated, eagerly. “Oh, +not so, Flodoardo! Ah, can you leave me?”—She +stopped, ashamed of her imprudence. “Can you leave my +uncle? I meant to say. You do but jest, I doubt +not.”</p> +<p>“By my honour, lady, I never was more in +earnest.”</p> +<p>“And whither, then, do you mean to go?”</p> +<p>“To Malta, and assist the knights in their attacks upon +the corsairs of Barbary. Providence, perhaps, may enable me +to obtain the command of a galley, then will I call my vessel +‘Rosabella;’ then shall the war-cry be still +‘Rosabella;’ that name will render me +invincible.”</p> +<p>“Oh! this is a mockery, Count. I have not deserved +that you should sport with my feelings so cruelly.”</p> +<p>“It is to <i>spare</i> your feelings, signora, that I am +now resolved to fly from Venice; my presence might cause you some +uneasy moments. I am not the happy man whose sight is +destined to give you pleasure; I will, at least, avoid giving you +pain.”</p> +<p>“And you really can resolve to abandon the Doge, whose +esteem for you is so sincere, whose friendship has always been so +warm?”</p> +<p>“I value his friendship highly, but it is not sufficient +to make me happy, and could he lay kingdoms at my feet, still +would his friendship be insufficient to make me happy.”</p> +<p>“Does, then, your happiness require so much?”</p> +<p>“It does—much more than I have mentioned, +infinitely more. But one boon can make me happy; I have +begged for it on my knees.” He caught her hand and +pressed it eagerly to his lips. “I have begged for +it, Rosabella, and my suit has been rejected.”</p> +<p>“You are a strange enthusiast,” she said with +difficulty, and scarcely knew what she said, while Flodoardo drew +her gently nearer to him, and murmured in a supplicating voice, +“Rosabella!”</p> +<p>“What would you of me?”</p> +<p>“My happiness!”</p> +<p>She gazed upon him for a moment undecided, then hastily drew +away her hand, and exclaimed, “Leave me, this moment, I +command you. Leave me, for Heaven’s sake!”</p> +<p>Flodoardo clasped his hands together in despair and +anguish. He bowed his head in token of obedience. He +left her with slow steps and a melancholy air, and as he passed +the threshold, turned to bid her farewell for ever. +Suddenly she rushed towards him, caught his hand, and pressed it +to her heart.</p> +<p>“Flodoardo,” she cried, “I am thine!” +and sank motionless at his feet.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER II.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">A DANGEROUS PROMISE.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">And</span> now who was so blessed as the +fortunate Flodoardo? The victory was his own, he had heard +the wished-for sentence pronounced by the lips of +Rosabella. He raised her from the ground, and placed her on +a sofa. Her blue eyes soon unclosed themselves once more, +and the first object which they beheld was Flodoardo kneeling at +her feet, while with one arm he encircled her waist. Her +head sank upon the shoulder of the man for whom she had breathed +so many sighs, who had occupied so many of her thoughts by day, +who had been present in so many of her dreams by night.</p> +<p>As they gazed in silent rapture on each other, they forgot +that they were mortals; they seemed to be transported to a +happier, to a better world. Rosabella thought that the +chamber in which she sat was transformed into an earthly +Paradise; invisible seraphs seemed to hallow by their protecting +presence the indulgence of her innocent affection, and she poured +forth her secret thanks to Him who had given her a heart +susceptible of love.</p> +<p>Through the whole course of man’s existence, such a +moment as this occurs but once. Happy is he who sighs for +its arrival; happy is he who, when it arrives, has a soul worthy +of its enjoyment; happy is even he for whom that moment has long +been passed, so it passed not unenjoyed, for the recollection of +it still is precious. Sage philosophers, in vain do you +assure us that the raptures of a moment like this are mere +illusions of a heated imagination, scarcely more solid than an +enchanting dream, which fades before the sunbeams of truth and +reason. Alas! does there exist a happiness under the moon +which owes not its charms in some degree to the magic of +imagination!</p> +<p>“You are dear to me, Flodoardo,” murmured +Rosabella, for Camilla and her counsels were quite forgotten; +“oh, you are very, very dear!”</p> +<p>The youth only thanked her by clasping her still closer to his +bosom, while, for the first time, he sealed her coral lips with +his own.</p> +<p>At that moment the door was suddenly thrown open. The +Doge Andreas re-entered the apartment: the expected stranger had +been suddenly taken ill, and Andreas was no sooner at liberty +than he hastened to rejoin his favourite. The rustling of +his garments roused the lovers from their dream of bliss. +Rosabella started from Flodoardo’s embrace with a cry of +terror; Flodoardo quitted his kneeling posture, yet seemed by no +means disconcerted at the discovery.</p> +<p>Andreas gazed upon them for some minutes, with a look which +expressed at once anger, melancholy, and the most heartfelt +disappointment. He sighed deeply, cast his eyes towards +heaven, and in silence turned to leave the apartment.</p> +<p>“Stay yet one moment, noble Andreas,” cried the +Florentine.</p> +<p>The Doge turned, and Flodoardo threw himself at his +feet. Andreas looked down with calm and serious dignity on +the kneeling offender, by whom his friendship had been so +unworthily rewarded, and by whom his confidence had been so +cruelly betrayed.</p> +<p>“Young man,” said he, in a stern voice, “the +attempt to excuse yourself must be fruitless.”</p> +<p>“Excuse myself!” interrupted Flodoardo, boldly; +“no, my lord, I need no excuses for loving Rosabella; +’twere for him to excuse himself who had seen Rosabella and +<i>not</i> loved her; yet, if it is indeed a crime in me that I +adore Rosabella, ’tis a crime of which Heaven itself will +absolve me, since it formed Rosabella so worthy to be +adored.”</p> +<p>“You seem to lay too much stress on this fantastic +apology,” answered the Doge, contemptuously; “at +least you cannot expect that it should have much weight with +me.”</p> +<p>“I say it once more, my lord,” resumed Flodoardo, +while he rose from the ground, “that I intend to make no +apology; I mean not to excuse my love for Rosabella, but to +request your approbation of that love. Andreas, I adore +your niece; I demand her for my bride.”</p> +<p>The Doge started in astonishment at this bold and unexpected +request.</p> +<p>“It is true,” continued the Florentine, “I +am no more than a needy, unknown youth, and it seems a piece of +strange temerity when such a man proposes himself to espouse the +heiress of the Venetian Doge. But, by Heaven, I am +confident that the great Andreas means not to bestow his +Rosabella on one of those whose claims to favour are overflowing +coffers, extensive territories, and sounding titles, or who +vainly decorate their insignificance with the glory obtained by +the titles of their ancestors, glory of which they are themselves +incapable of acquiring a single ray. I acknowledge freely +that I have as yet performed no actions which make me deserving +of such a reward as Rosabella; but it shall not be long ere I +<i>will</i> perform such actions, or perish in the +attempt.”</p> +<p>The Doge turned from him with a look of displeasure.</p> +<p>“Oh, be not incensed with him, dear uncle,” said +Rosabella. She hastened to detain the Doge, threw her white +arms around his neck fondly, and concealed in his bosom the tears +with which her countenance was bedewed.</p> +<p>“Make your demands,” continued Flodoardo, still +addressing himself to the Doge; “say what you wish me to +do, and what you would have me become, in order to obtain from +you the hand of Rosabella. Ask what you will, I will look +on the task, however difficult, as nothing more than sport and +pastime. By Heaven, I would that Venice were at this moment +exposed to the most imminent danger, and that ten thousand +daggers were unsheathed against your life; Rosabella my +reward—how certain should I be to rescue Venice, and strike +the ten thousand daggers down.”</p> +<p>“I have served the Republic faithfully and fervently for +many a long year,” answered Andreas, with a bitter smile; +“I have risked my life without hesitation; I have shed my +blood with profusion; I asked nothing for my reward but to pass +my old age in soft tranquillity, and of this reward have I been +cheated. My bosom friends, the companions of my youth, the +confidants of my age, have been torn from me by the daggers of +banditti; and you, Flodoardo, you, on whom I heaped all favours, +have now deprived me of this my only remaining comfort. +Answer me, Rosabella; hast thou in truth bestowed thy heart on +Flodoardo irrevocably?”</p> +<p>One hand of Rosabella’s still rested on her +uncle’s shoulder; with the other she clasped +Flodoardo’s and pressed it fondly against her +heart—yet Flodoardo seemed still unsatisfied. No +sooner had the Doge’s question struck his ear, than his +countenance became dejected; and though his hand returned the +pressure of Rosabella’s, he shook his head mournfully, with +an air of doubt, and cast on her a penetrating look, as would he +have read the secrets of her inmost soul.</p> +<p>Andreas withdrew himself gently from Rosabella’s arm, +and for some time paced the apartment slowly, with a countenance +sad and earnest. Rosabella sank upon a sofa which stood +near her, and wept. Flodoardo eyed the Doge, and waited for +his decision with impatience.</p> +<p>Thus passed some minutes. An awful silence reigned +through the chamber; Andreas seemed to be labouring with some +resolution of dreadful importance. The lovers wished, yet +dreaded, the conclusion of the scene, and with every moment their +anxiety became more painful.</p> +<p>“Flodoardo!” at length said the Doge, and suddenly +stood still in the middle of the chamber. Flodoardo +advanced with a respectful air. “Young man,” he +continued, “I am at length resolved; Rosabella loves you, +nor will I oppose the decision of her heart; but Rosabella is +much too precious to admit of my bestowing her on the first who +thinks fit to demand her. The man to whom I give her must +be worthy such a gift. She must be the reward of his +services; nor can he do services so great that such a reward will +not overpay them. Your claims on the Republic’s +gratitude are as yet but trifling; an opportunity now offers of +rendering as an essential service. The murderer of Conari, +Manfrone, and Lomellino—go, bring him hither! Alive +or dead, thou must bring to this palace the terrible +banditti-king, <i>Abellino</i>!”</p> +<p>At this unexpected conclusion of a speech on which his +happiness or despair depended, Flodoardo started back. The +colour fled from his cheeks.</p> +<p>“My noble lord!” he said at length, hesitating, +“you know well that—”</p> +<p>“I know well,” interrupted Andreas, “how +difficult a task I enjoin, when I require the delivery of +Abellino. For myself I swear that I had rather a thousand +times force my passage with a single vessel through the whole +Turkish fleet, and carry off the admiral’s ship from the +midst of them, than attempt to seize this Abellino, who seems to +have entered into a compact with Lucifer himself: who is to be +found everywhere and nowhere; whom so many have seen, but whom no +one knows; whose cautious subtlety has brought to shame the +vigilance of our State inquisitors, of the College of Ten, and of +all their legions of spies and sbirri; whose very name strikes +terror into the hearts of the bravest Venetians, and from whose +dagger I myself am not safe upon my throne. I know well, +Flodoardo, how much I ask; but I know also how much I +proffer. You seem irresolute? You are silent? +Flodoardo, I have long watched you with attention. I have +discovered in you marks of a superior genius, and therefore I am +induced to make such a demand. If any one is able to cope +with Abellino, thou art the man. I wait your +answer.”</p> +<p>Flodoardo paced the chamber in silence. Dreadful was the +enterprise proposed. Woe to him should Abellino discover +his purpose. But Rosabella was the reward. He cast a +look on the beloved one, and resolved to risk everything.</p> +<p>He advanced towards the Doge.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Now, then, Flodoardo—your +resolution?</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—Should I deliver Abellino into your +power, do you solemnly swear that Rosabella shall be my +bride?</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—She shall! and <i>not till then</i>.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—Ah! Flodoardo, I fear this +undertaking will end fatally. Abellino is so crafty, so +dreadful. Oh! look well to yourself, for should you meet +with the detested monster, whose dagger—</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i> (interrupting her hastily).—Oh! +silence, Rosabella—at least allow me to hope. Noble +Andreas, give me your hand, and pledge your princely word that, +Abellino once in your power, nothing shall prevent me from being +Rosabella’s husband.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—I swear it; deliver into my power, +either alive or dead, this most dangerous foe of Venice, and +nothing shall prevent Rosabella from being your wife. In +pledge of which I here give you my princely hand.</p> +<p>Flodoardo grasped the Doge’s hand in silence, and shook +it thrice. He turned to Rosabella, and seemed on the point +of addressing her, when he suddenly turned away, struck his +forehead, and measured the apartment with disordered and unsteady +steps. The clock in the tower of St. Mark’s church +struck five.</p> +<p>“Time flies!” cried Flodoardo; “no more +delay, then. In four-and-twenty hours will I produce in +this very palace this dreaded bravo, Abellino.”</p> +<p>Andreas shook his head. “Young man,” said +he, “be less confident in your promises; I shall have more +faith in your performance.”</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i> (serious and firm).—Let things +terminate as they may, either I will keep my word, or never again +will cross the threshold of your palace. I have discovered +some traces of the miscreant, and I trust that I shall amuse you +to-morrow, at this time and in this place, with the +representation of a comedy; but should it prove a tragedy +instead, God’s will be done.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Remember that too much haste is +dangerous; rashness will destroy even the frail hopes of success +which you may reasonably indulge at present.</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—Rashness, my lord? He who has +lived as I have lived, and suffered what I have suffered, must +have been long since cured of rashness.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i> (taking his hand).—Yet be not too +confident of your own strength, I beseech you! Dear +Flodoardo, my uncle loves you, and his advice is wise! +Beware of Abellino’s dagger!</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—The best way to escape his dagger is +not to allow him time to use it: within four-and-twenty hours +must the deed be done, or never. Now, then, illustrious +Prince, I take my leave of you. To-morrow I doubt not to +convince you that nothing is too much for love to venture.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Right; to venture: but to achieve?</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—Ah, that must depend—He paused +suddenly again his eyes were fastened eagerly on those of +Rosabella, and it was evident that with every moment his +uneasiness acquired fresh strength. He resumed his +discourse to Andreas, with a movement of impatience.</p> +<p>“Noble Andreas,” said he, “do not make me +dispirited; rather let me try whether I cannot inspire you with +more confidence of my success. I must first request you to +order a splendid entertainment to be prepared. At this hour +in the afternoon of to-morrow let me find all the principal +persons in Venice, both men and women, assembled in this chamber; +for should my hopes be realised, I would willingly have +spectators of my triumph. Particularly let the venerable +members of the College of Ten he invited, in order that they may +at last he brought face to face with this terrible Abellino, +against whom they have so long been engaged in fruitless +warfare.”</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i> (after eyeing him some time with a look of +mingled surprise and uncertainty).—They shall be +present.</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—I understand, also, that since +Conari’s death you have been reconciled to the Cardinal +Gonzaga; and that he has convinced you how unjust were the +prejudices with which Conari had inspired you against the +nobility—Parozzi, Contarino, and the rest of that +society. During my late excursions I have heard much in +praise of these young men, which makes me wish to show myself to +them in a favourable light. If you have no objection, let +me beg you to invite them also.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—You shall be gratified.</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—One thing more, which had nearly +escaped my memory. Let no one know the motive of this +entertainment till the whole company is assembled. Then let +guards be placed around the palace, and, indeed, it may be as +well to place them even before the doors of the saloon; for in +truth this Abellino is such a desperate villain, that too many +precautions cannot be taken against him. The sentinels must +have their pieces loaded, and, above all things, they must be +strictly charged, on pain of death, to let every one enter, but +no one quit the chamber.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—All this shall be done punctually.</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—I have nothing more to say. +Noble Andreas, farewell. Rosabella, to-morrow, when the +clock strikes five, we shall meet again, or never.</p> +<p>He said, and rushed out of the apartment. Andreas shook +his head; while Rosabella sank upon her uncle’s bosom, and +wept bitterly.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER III.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE MIDNIGHT MEETING.</span></h3> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Victory</span>!” shouted +Parozzi, as he rushed into the Cardinal Gonzaga’s chamber, +where the chief conspirators were all assembled; “our work +goes on bravely. Flodoardo returned this morning to Venice, +and Abellino has already received the required sum.”</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.—Flodoardo does not want talents; I had +rather he should live and join our party. He is seldom off +his guard—</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Such vagabonds may well be cautious; +they must not forget themselves, who have so much to conceal from +others.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Rosabella, as I understand, by no means +sees this Florentine with unfavourable eyes.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Oh, wait till to-morrow, and then he may +make love to the devil and his grandmother, if he likes it. +Abellino by that time will have wrung his neck round, I warrant +you.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—It is strange that, in spite of all +inquiries, I can learn but little at Florence respecting this +Flodoardo. My letters inform me that some time ago there +did exist a family of that name; but it has been long extinct, or +if any of its descendants are still in being at Florence, their +existence is quite a secret.</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.—Are you all invited to the Doge’s +to-morrow?</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—All of us, without exception.</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.—That is well. It seems that my +recommendations have obtained some weight with him, since his +triumvirate has been removed. And in the evening a masked +ball is to be given. Did not the Doge’s chamberlain +say so?</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—He did.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—I only hope there is no trick in all +this. If he should have been given a hint of our +conspiracy! Mercy on us! my teeth chatter at the +thought.</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.—Absurd! By what means should our +designs have been made known to him? The thing is +impossible.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Impossible? What, when there’s +scarce a cutpurse, housebreaker, or vagabond in Venice who has +not been enlisted in our service, would it be so strange if the +Doge discovered a little of the business? A secret which is +known to so many, how should it escape his penetration?</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Simpleton! the same thing happens to +him which happens to betrayed husbands. Everyone can see +the horns except the man who carries them. And yet I +confess it is full time that we should realise our projects, and +prevent the possibility of our being betrayed.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—You are right, friend; everything is +ready now. The sooner that the blow is struck the +better.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Nay, the discontented populace, which at +present sides with us, would be perfectly well pleased if the +sport began this very night; delay the business longer, and their +anger against Andreas will cool, and render them unfit for our +purpose.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Then let us decide the game at once; +be to-morrow the important day. Leave the Doge to my +disposal. I’ll at least engage to bury my poniard in +his heart, and then let the business end as it may, one of two +things must happen: either we shall rescue ourselves from all +trouble and vexation, by throwing everything into uproar and +confusion, or else we shall sail with a full wind from this +cursed world to another.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Mark me, friends, we must go armed to +the Doge’s entertainment.</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.—All the members of the College of Ten +have been particularly invited—</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Down with every man of them!</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—Aye, aye! Fine talking, but suppose +it should turn out to be down with ourselves?</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Thou white-livered wretch! Stay at +home, then, and take care of your worthless existence. But +if our attempt succeeds, come not to us to reimburse you for the +sums which you have already advanced. Not a sequin shall be +paid you back, depend on’t.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—You wrong me, Falieri; if you wish to +prove my courage, draw your sword and measure it against +mine. I am as brave as yourself; but, thank Heaven, I am +not quite so hot-headed.</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.—Nay, even suppose that the event should +not answer our expectations? Andreas once dead, let the +populace storm as it pleases; the protection of his Holiness will +sanction our proceedings.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—The Pope? May we count on his +protection?</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i> (throwing him a letter).—Read there, +unbeliever. The Pope, I tell you, must protect us, since +one of our objects is professed to be the assertion of the rights +of St. Peter’s Chair in Venice. Prithee, Memmo, tease +us no more with such doubts, but let Contarino’s proposal +be adopted at once. Our confederates must be summoned to +Parozzi’s palace with all diligence, and there furnished +with such weapons as are necessary. Let the stroke of +midnight be the signal for Contarino’s quitting the +ball-room, and hastening to seize the arsenal. Salviati, +who commands there, is in our interest, and will throw open the +gates at the first summons.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—The admiral Adorna, as soon as he hears +the alarm-bell, will immediately lead his people to our +assistance.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Oh, our success is certain.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Only let us take care to make the +confusion as general as possible. Our adversaries must be +kept in the dark who are their friends and who their foes, and +all but our own party must be left ignorant as to the authors, +the origin, and the object of the uproar.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—Heaven, I am delighted at finding the +business at length so near the moment of execution!</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Parozzi, have you distributed the white +ribbons by which we are to recognise our partisans?</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—That was done some days ago.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Then there is no more necessary to be +said on the subject. Comrades, fill your goblets. We +will not meet again together till our work has been +completed.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—And yet methinks it would not be unwise to +consider the matter over again coolly.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Pshaw! consideration and prudence have +nothing to do with a rebellion; despair and rashness in this case +are better counsellors. The work once begun, the +constitution of Venice once boldly overturned, so that no one can +tell who is master and who is subject, then consideration will be +of service in instructing us how far it may be necessary for our +interest to push the confusion. Come, friends! fill, fill, +I say. I cannot help laughing when I reflect that, by +giving this entertainment to-morrow, the Doge himself kindly +affords us an opportunity of executing our plans.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—As to Flodoardo, I look upon him already +as in his grave; yet before we go to-morrow to the Doge’s, +it will be as well to have a conference with Abellino.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—That care we will leave to you, +Parozzi, and in the meanwhile here’s the health of +Abellino.</p> +<p><i>All</i>.—Abellino!</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.—And success to our enterprise +to-morrow.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—I’ll drink <i>that</i> toast with +all my heart.</p> +<p><i>All</i>.—Success to to-morrow’s enterprise!</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i>.—The wine tastes well, and every face +looks gay; pass eight-and-forty hours, and shall we look as +gaily? We separate smiling; shall we smile when two nights +hence we meet again? No matter.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER IV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE DECISIVE DAY.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next morning everything in +Venice seemed as tranquil as if nothing more than ordinary was on +the point of taking place; and yet, since her first foundation, +never had a more important day risen on the Republic.</p> +<p>The inhabitants of the ducal palace were in motion +early. The impatient Andreas forsook the couch on which he +had passed a sleepless and anxious night, as soon as the first +sunbeams penetrated through the lattice of his chamber. +Rosabella had employed the hours of rest in dreams of Flodoardo, +and she still seemed to be dreaming of him, even after sleep was +fled. Camilla’s love for her fair pupil had broken +her repose; she loved Rosabella as had she been her daughter, and +was aware that on this interesting day depended the love-sick +girl’s whole future happiness. For some time +Rosabella was unusually gay; she sang to her harp the most lively +airs, and jested with Camilla for looking so serious and so +uneasy; but when mid-day approached, her spirits began to forsake +her. She quitted her instrument, and paced the chamber with +unsteady steps. With every succeeding hour her heart +palpitated with greater pain and violence, and she trembled in +expectation of the scene which was soon to take place.</p> +<p>The most illustrious persons in Venice already filled her +uncle’s palace; the afternoon so much dreaded, and yet so +much desired, was come; and the Doge now desired Camilla to +conduct his niece to the great saloon, where she was expected +with impatience by all those who were of most consequence in the +Republic.</p> +<p>Rosabella sank on her knees before a statue of the +Virgin. “Blessed Lady!” she exclaimed, with +lifted hands, “have mercy on me! Let all to-day end +well!”</p> +<p>Pale as death did she enter the chamber in which, on the day +before, she had acknowledged her love for Flodoardo, and +Flodoardo had sworn to risk his life to obtain her. +Flodoardo was not yet arrived.</p> +<p>The assembly was brilliant, the conversation was gay. +They talked over the politics of the day, and discussed the +various occurrences of Europe. The Cardinal and Contarino +were engaged in a conference with the Doge, while Memmo, Parozzi, +and Falieri stood silent together, and revolved the project whose +execution was to take place at midnight.</p> +<p>The weather was dark and tempestuous. The wind roared +among the waters of the canal, and the vanes of the palace-towers +creaked shrilly and discordantly. One storm of rain +followed hard upon another.</p> +<p>The clock struck four. The cheeks of Rosabella, if +possible, became paler than before. Andreas whispered +something to his chamberlain. In a few minutes the tread of +armed men seemed approaching the doors of the saloon, and soon +after the clattering of weapons was heard.</p> +<p>Instantly a sudden silence reigned through the whole +assembly. The young courtiers broke off their love-speeches +abruptly, and the ladies stopped in their criticisms upon the +last new fashions. The statesmen dropped their political +discussions, and gazed on each other in silence and anxiety.</p> +<p>The Doge advanced slowly into the midst of the assembly. +Every eye was fixed upon him. The hearts of the +conspirators beat painfully.</p> +<p>“Be not surprised, my friends,” said Andreas, +“at these unusual precautions; they relate to nothing which +need interfere with the pleasures of this society. You have +all heard but too much of the bravo Abellino, the murderer of the +Procurator Conari, and of my faithful counsellors Manfrone and +Lomellino, and to whose dagger my illustrious guest the Prince of +Monaldeschi has but lately fallen a victim. This miscreant, +the object of aversion to every honest man in Venice, to whom +nothing is sacred or venerable, and who has hitherto set at +defiance the whole vengeance of the Republic—before another +hour expires, perhaps this outcast of hell may stand before you +in this very saloon.”</p> +<p><i>All</i> (astonished).—Abellino? What, the bravo +Abellino?</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.—Of his own accord!</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—No, not of his own accord, in +truth. But Flodoardo of Florence has undertaken to render +this important service to the Republic, to seize Abellino, cost +what it may, and conduct him hither at the risk of his life.</p> +<p><i>A Senator</i>.—The engagement will be difficult to +fulfil. I doubt much Flodoardo’s keeping his +promise.</p> +<p><i>Another</i>.—But if he <i>should</i> perform it, the +obligation which Flodoardo will lay upon the Republic will not be +trifling.</p> +<p><i>A Third</i>.—Nay, we shall be all his debtors, nor do +I know how we can reward Flodoardo for so important a +service.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Be that my task. Flodoardo has +demanded my niece in marriage if he performs his promise. +Rosabella shall be his reward.</p> +<p>All gazed on each other in silence; some with looks expressing +the most heartfelt satisfaction, and others with glances of envy +and surprise.</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i> (in a low voice).—Parozzi, how will this +end?</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—As I live, the very idea makes me shake as +if I had a fever.</p> +<p><i>Parozzi</i> (smiling contemptuously).—It’s very +likely that Abellino should suffer himself to be caught!</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Pray inform me, signors, have any of +you ever met this Abellino face to face?</p> +<p><i>Several Noblemen at once</i>.—Not I. Never.</p> +<p><i>A Senator</i>.—He is a kind of spectre, who only +appears now and then, when he is least expected and desired.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—I saw him once; never again shall I +forget the monster.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—And my interview with him is too well +known to make it needful for me to relate it.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—I have heard a thousand stories about this +miscreant, the one more wonderful than the other; and for my own +part I verily believe that he is Satan himself in a human +form. I must say that I think it would be wiser not to let +him be brought in among us, for he is capable of strangling us +all as we stand here, one after another, without mercy.</p> +<p>“Gracious Heaven!” screamed several of the ladies, +“you don’t say so? What, strangle us in this +very chamber?”</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—The principal point is, whether +Flodoardo will get the better of <i>him</i>, or <i>he</i> of +Flodoardo. Now I would lay a heavy wager that the +Florentine will return without having finished the business.</p> +<p><i>A Senator</i>.—And <i>I</i> would engage, on the +contrary, that there is but one man in Venice who is capable of +seizing Abellino, and that <i>that</i> man is Flodoardo of +Florence. The moment that I became acquainted with him, I +prophesied that one day or other he would play a brilliant part +in the annals of history.</p> +<p><i>Another Senator</i>.—I think with you, signor. +Never was I so struck with a man at first sight as I was with +Flodoardo.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—A thousand sequins on Abellino’s +not being taken, unless death should have taken him first.</p> +<p><i>The First Senator</i>.—A thousand sequins on +Flodoardo seizing him—</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—And delivering him up to me, either +alive or dead.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Illustrious signors, you are witnesses +of the wager. My Lord Vitalba, there is my hand on +it. A thousand sequins!</p> +<p><i>The Senator</i>.—Done.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i> (smiling).—Many thanks for your gold, +signor. I look on it as already in my purse. +Flodoardo is a clever gentleman, no doubt, yet I would advise him +to take good care of himself; for he will find that Abellino +knows a trick or two, or I am much mistaken.</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.—May I request your Highness to inform me +whether Flodoardo is attended by the sbirri?</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—No, he is alone. Near +four-and-twenty hours have elapsed since he set out in pursuit of +the bravo.</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i> (to Contarino, with a smile of +triumph).—I wish you joy of your thousand sequins, +signor.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i> (bowing respectfully).—Since your +Excellency prophesies it I can no longer doubt my success.</p> +<p><i>Memmo</i>.—I begin to recover myself! Well, +well! let us see the end.</p> +<p>Three-and-twenty hours had elapsed since Flodoardo had entered +into the rash engagement. The four-and-twentieth now +hastened to its completion, and yet Flodoardo came not.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER V.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE CLOCK STRIKES FIVE.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Doge became uneasy. The +senator Vitalba began to tremble for his thousand sequins, and +the conspirators could not restrain their spiteful laughter, when +Contarino gravely declared that he would gladly lose, not +<i>one</i> thousand sequins, but twenty, if the loss of his wager +through Abellino’s being captured might but secure the +general safety of the Republic.</p> +<p>“Hark!” cried Rosabella, “the clock strikes +five!”</p> +<p>All listened to the chimes in the tower of St. Mark’s +Church, and trembled as they counted the strokes. Had not +Camilla supported her, Rosabella would have sank upon the +ground. The destined hour was past, and still Flodoardo +came not!</p> +<p>The venerable Andreas felt a sincere affection for the +Florentine; he shuddered as he dwelt upon the probability that +Abellino’s dagger had prevailed.</p> +<p>Rosabella advanced towards her uncle as if she would have +spoken to him; but anxiety fettered her tongue, and tears forced +themselves into her eyes. She struggled for a while to +conceal her emotions, but the effort was too much for her. +She threw herself on a sofa, wrung her hands, and prayed to the +God of mercy for help and comfort.</p> +<p>The rest of the company either formed groups of whisperers, or +strolled up and down the apartment in evident uneasiness. +They would willingly have appeared gay and unconcerned, but they +found it impossible to assume even an affectation of gaiety, and +thus elapsed another hour, and still Flodoardo came not.</p> +<p>At that moment the evening sun broke through the clouds, and a +ray of its setting glory was thrown full upon the countenance of +Rosabella. She started from the sofa, extended her arms +towards the radiant orb, and exclaimed, while a smile of hope +played round her lips, “God is merciful; God will have +mercy on me.”</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—Was it at five o’clock that +Flodoardo engaged to produce Abellino? It is now a full +hour beyond his time.</p> +<p><i>The Senator Vitalba</i>.—Let him only produce him at +last, and he may be a month beyond his time if he choose.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Hark! No. Silence! +silence! Surely I hear footsteps approaching the +saloon.</p> +<p>The words were scarcely spoken when the folding doors were +thrown open, and Flodoardo rushed into the room enveloped in his +mantle. His hair streamed on the air in wild disorder; a +deep shade was thrown over his face by the drooping plumes of his +<i>barrette</i>, from which the rain was flowing. Extreme +melancholy was impressed on all his features, and he threw gloomy +looks around him as he bowed his head in salutation of the +assembly.</p> +<p>Every one crowded round him; every mouth was unclosed to +question him; every eye was fixed on his face as if eager to +anticipate his answers.</p> +<p>“Holy Virgin!” exclaimed Memmo, “I am afraid +that—”</p> +<p>“Be silent, signor!” interrupted Contarino, +sternly; “there is nothing to be afraid of.”</p> +<p>“Illustrious Venetians!”—it was thus that +Flodoardo broke silence, and he spoke with the commanding tone of +a hero—“I conclude that his Highness has already made +known to you the object of your being thus assembled. I +come to put an end to your anxiety; but first, noble Andreas, I +must once more receive the assurance that Rosabella of Corfu +shall become my bride, provided I deliver into your power the +bravo Abellino.”</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i> (examining his countenance with extreme +anxiety).—Flodoardo, have you succeeded? Is Abellino +your prisoner?</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—If Abellino is my prisoner, shall +Rosabella be my bride?</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Bring me Abellino, alive or dead, and +she is yours. I swear it beyond the power of retracting, +and also that her dowry shall be royal!</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—Illustrious Venetians, ye have heard +the Doge’s oath?</p> +<p><i>All</i>.—We are your witnesses.</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i> (advancing a few paces with a bold air, and +speaking in a firm voice).—Well, then, Abellino is in my +power—is in <i>yours</i>.</p> +<p><i>All</i> (in confusion and a kind of uproar).—In +ours? Merciful heaven! Where is he? +Abellino!</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—Is he dead or living?</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—He still lives.</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i> (hastily).—He lives?</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i> (bowing to the Cardinal +respectfully).—He still lives, signor.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i> (pressing Camilla to her bosom). Didst +thou hear that, Camilla? Didst thou hear it? The +villain still lives. Not one drop of blood has stained the +innocent hand of Flodoardo.</p> +<p><i>The Senator Vitalba</i>.—Signor Contarino, I have won +a thousand sequins of you.</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i>.—So it should seem, signor.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—My son, you have bound the Republic to +you for ever, and I rejoice that it is to Flodoardo that she is +indebted for a service so essential.</p> +<p><i>Vitalba</i>.—And permit me, noble Florentine, to +thank you for this heroic act in the name of the Senate of +Venice. Our first care shall be to seek out a reward +proportioned to your merits.</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i> (extending his arms towards Rosabella, with a +melancholy air).—There stands the only reward for which I +wish.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i> (joyfully).—And that reward is your +own. But where have you left the bloodhound? Conduct +him hither, my son, and let me look at him once more. When +I last saw him, he had the insolence to tell me, “Doge, I +am your equal. This narrow chamber now holds the two +greatest men in Venice.” Now, then, let me see how +this other great man looks in captivity.</p> +<p><i>Two or three Senators</i>.—Where is he? Bring +him hither.</p> +<p>Several of the ladies screamed at hearing this proposal. +“For heaven’s sake,” cried they, “keep +the monster away from us! I shall be frightened out of my +senses if he comes here.”</p> +<p>“Noble ladies,” said Flodoardo, with a smile, +expressing rather sorrow than joy, “you have nothing to +apprehend. Abellino shall do you no harm; but he needs must +come hither to claim <i>The Bravo’s Bride</i>.” +And he pointed to Rosabella.</p> +<p>“Oh, my best friend,” she answered, “how +shall I express my thanks to you for having thus put an end to my +terrors? I shall tremble no more at hearing Abellino +named. Rosabella shall now be called the Bravo’s +Bride no longer.”</p> +<p><i>Falieri</i>.—Is Abellino already in this palace?</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—He is.</p> +<p><i>Vitalba</i>.—Then why do you not produce him? +Why do you trifle so long with our impatience?</p> +<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.—Be patient. It’s now time +that the play should begin. Be seated, noble Andreas. +Let all the rest arrange themselves behind the Doge. +Abellino’s coming!</p> +<p>At that word both old and young, both male and female, with +the rapidity of lightning, flew to take shelter behind +Andreas. Every heart beat anxiously; but as to the +conspirators, while expecting Abellino’s appearance, they +suffered the torments of the damned.</p> +<p>Grave and tranquil sat the Doge in his chair, like a judge +appointed to pass sentence on this King of the Banditti. +The spectators stood around in various groups, all hushed and +solemn, as if they were waiting to receive their final +judgment. The lovely Rosabella, with all the security of +angels whose innocence have nothing to fear, reclined her head on +Camilla’s shoulder and gazed on her heroic lover with looks +of adoration. The conspirators, with pallid cheeks and +staring eyes, filled up the background, and a dead and awful +silence prevailed through the assembly, scarcely interrupted by a +single breath.</p> +<p>“And now, then,” said Flodoardo, “prepare +yourselves, for this terrible Abellino shall immediately appear +before you. Do not tremble; he shall do no one +harm.”</p> +<p>With these words he turned away from the company, advanced +towards the folding-doors. He paused for a few moments, and +concealed his face in his cloak.</p> +<p>“Abellino!” cried he at length, raising his head, +and extending his arm towards the door. At that name all +who heard it shuddered involuntarily, and Rosabella advanced +unconsciously a few steps towards her lover. She trembled +more for Flodoardo than herself.</p> +<p>“Abellino!” the Florentine repeated, in a loud and +angry tone, threw from him his mantle and barrette, and had +already laid his hand on the lock of the door to open it, when +Rosabella uttered a cry of terror.</p> +<p>“Stay, Flodoardo!” she cried, rushing towards him, +and—Ha! Flodoardo was gone, and there, in his place, +stood Abellino, and shouted out, “Ho! ho!”</p> +<h3>CHAPTER VI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">APPARITIONS.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Instantly</span> a loud cry of terror +resounded through the apartment. Rosabella sank fainting at +the bravo’s feet; the conspirators were almost suffocated +with rage, terror, and astonishment; the ladies made signs of the +cross, and began in all haste to repeat their paternosters; the +senators stood rooted to their places like so many statues; and +the Doge doubted the information of his ears and eyes.</p> +<p>Calm and terrible stood the bravo before them, in all the pomp +of his strange and awful ugliness, with his bravo’s habit, +his girdle filled with pistols and poniards, his distorted yellow +countenance, his black and bushy eyebrows, his lips convulsed, +his right eye covered by a large patch, and his left half buried +among the wrinkles of flesh which swelled around it. He +gazed around him for a few moments in silence, and then +approached the stupefied Andreas.</p> +<p>“Ho! ho!” he roared in a voice like thunder, +“you wish to see the bravo Abellino? Doge of Venice, +here he stands, and is come to claim his bride.”</p> +<p>Andreas gazed with looks of horror on this model for demons, +and at length stammered out with difficulty, “It cannot be +real; I must surely be the sport of some terrible +dream.”</p> +<p>“Without there, guards!” exclaimed the Cardinal +Gonzaga, and would have hastened to the folding doors, when +Abellino put his back against them, snatched a pistol from his +girdle, and pointed it at the Cardinal’s bosom.</p> +<p>“The first,” cried he, “who calls for the +guard, or advances one step from the place on which he stands, +expires that moment. Fools! Do ye think I would have +delivered myself up, and desired that guards might beset these +doors, had I feared their swords, or intended to escape from your +power? No; I am content to be your prisoner, but not +through compulsion! I am content to be your prisoner; and +it was with that intent that I came hither. No mortal +should have the glory of seizing Abellino. If justice +required him to be delivered up, it was necessary that he should +be delivered up by himself! Or do ye take Abellino for an +ordinary ruffian, who passes his time in skulking from the +sbirri, and who murders for the sake of despicable plunder? +No, by heaven, no! Abellino was no such common +villain. It’s true I was a bravo; but the motives +which induced me to become one were great and +striking.”</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i> (clasping his hands together).—Almighty +God! can all this be possible?</p> +<p>An awful silence again reigned through the saloon. All +trembled while they listened to the voice of the terrible +assassin, who strode through the chamber proud and majestic as +the monarch of the infernal world.</p> +<p>Rosabella opened her eyes; their first look fell upon the +bravo.</p> +<p>“Oh, God of mercy!” she exclaimed, “he is +still there. Methought, too, that Flodoardo—. +No, no; it could not be! I was deceived by +witchcraft.”</p> +<p>Abellino advanced towards her, and attempted to raise +her. She shrunk from his touch with horror.</p> +<p>“No, Rosabella,” said the bravo, in an altered +voice, “what you saw was no illusion. Your favoured +Flodoardo is no other than Abellino the bravo.”</p> +<p>“It is false!” interrupted Rosabella, starting +from the ground in despair, and throwing herself for refuge on +Camilla’s bosom. “Monster! thou canst not be +Flodoardo! such a fiend can never have been such a seraph. +Flodoardo’s actions were good and glorious as a +demi-god’s! ’Twas of him that I learned to love +good and glorious actions, and ’twas he who encouraged me +to attempt them myself; his heart was pure from all mean +passions, and capable of conceiving all great designs. +Never did he scruple, in the cause of virtue, to endure fatigue +and pain, and to dry up the tears of suffering +innocence—that was Flodoardo’s proudest +triumph! Flodoardo and thou—! Wretch, whom many +a bleeding ghost has long since accused before the throne of +heaven, darest thou to profane the name of Flodoardo!”</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i> (proud and earnest).—Rosabella, wilt +thou forsake me? Wilt thou retract thy promise? Look, +Rosabella, and be convinced: I, the bravo, and thy Flodoardo are +the same.</p> +<p>He said, removing the patch from his eye, and passed a +handkerchief over his face once or twice. In an instant his +complexion was altered, his bushy eyebrows and straight black +hair disappeared, his features were replaced in their natural +symmetry, and lo! the handsome Florentine stood before the whole +assembly, dressed in the habit of the bravo Abellino.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Mark me, Rosabella! Seven times +over, and seven times again, will I change my appearance, even +before your eyes, and that so artfully that, study me as you +will, the transformation shall deceive you. But change as I +may, of one thing be assured: I am the man whom you loved as +Flodoardo.</p> +<p>The Doge gazed and listened without being able to recover from +his confusion, but every now and then the words “Dreadful! +dreadful!” escaped from his lips, and he wrung his hands in +agony. Abellino approached Rosabella, and said in the tone +of supplication: “Rosabella, wilt thou break thy +promise? Am I no longer dear to thee?”</p> +<p>Rosabella was unable to answer; she stood like one changed to +a statue, and fixed her motionless eyes on the bravo.</p> +<p>Abellino took her cold hand and pressed it to his lips.</p> +<p>“Rosabella,” said he, “art thou still +mine?”</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i>.—Flodoardo, oh! that I had never loved, +had never seen thee!</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Rosabella wilt thou still be the bride +of Flodoardo? wilt thou be “the Bravo’s +Bride?”</p> +<p>Love struggled with abhorrence in Rosabella’s bosom, and +painful was the contest.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Hear me, beloved one! It was for +thee that I have discovered myself—that I have delivered +myself into the hands of justice. For thee—oh, what +would I not do for thee! Rosabella, I wait but to hear one +syllable from your lips; speak but a decisive yes or no, and all +is ended. Rosabella, dost thou love me still?</p> +<p>And still she answered not; but she threw upon him a look +innocent and tender as ever beamed from the eye of an angel, and +that look betrayed but too plainly that the miscreant was still +master of her heart. She turned from him hastily, threw +herself into Camilla’s arms, and exclaimed, “God +forgive you, man, for torturing me so cruelly!”</p> +<p>The Doge had by this time recovered from his stupor. He +started from his chair, threats flashed from his eyes, and his +lips trembled with passion. He rushed towards Abellino; but +the senators threw themselves in his passage, and held him back +by force. In the meanwhile the bravo advanced towards him +with the most insolent composure, and requested him to calm his +agitation.</p> +<p>“Doge of Venice,” said he, “will you keep +your promise? That you gave it to me, these noble lords and +ladies can testify.”</p> +<p>Andreas.—Monster! miscreant! Oh! how artfully has +this plan been laid to ensnare me! Tell me, Venetians, to +<i>such</i> a creditor am I obliged to discharge my fearful +debt? Long has he been playing a deceitful bloody part; the +bravest of our citizens have fallen beneath his dagger, and it +was the price of their blood which has enabled him to act the +nobleman in Venice. Then comes he to me in disguise of a +man of honour, seduces the heart of my unfortunate Rosabella, +obtains my promise by an artful trick, and now claims the maiden +for his bride, in the hope that the husband of the Doge’s +niece will easily obtain an absolution for his crimes. Tell +me, Venetians, ought I to keep my word with this miscreant?</p> +<p><i>All the Senators</i>.—No, no, by no means.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i> (with solemnity).—If you have once +pledged your word, you ought to keep it, though given to the +Prince of Darkness. Oh, fie, fie! Abellino, how +shamefully hast thou been deceived in thy reckoning. I +thought I had to do with men of honour. Oh! how grossly +have I been mistaken. (In a terrible voice.)—Once +again, and for the last time, I ask you, Doge of Venice, wilt +thou break thy princely word?</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i> (in the tone of authority).—Give up your +arms.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—And you will really withhold from me my +just reward? Shall it be in vain that I delivered Abellino +into your power?</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i>.—It was to the brave Flodoardo that I +promised Rosabella. I never entered into any engagement +with the murderer Abellino. Let Flodoardo claim my niece, +and she is his; but Abellino can have no claim to her. +Again I say lay down your arms.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i> (laughing wildly).—The murderer +Abellino, say you? Ho! ho! Be it your care to keep +your own promises, and trouble not yourself about my murders, +they are <i>my</i> affair, and I warrant I shall find a word or +two to say in defence of them, when the judgment day arrives.</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i> (to the Doge).—What dreadful +blasphemy.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Oh, good Lord Cardinal, intercede in my +behalf, you know me well; I have always acted by you like a man +of honour, that at least you cannot deny. Say a word in my +favour, then, good Lord Cardinal.</p> +<p><i>Gonzaga</i> (angrily, and with imperious +dignity).—Address not thyself to <i>me</i>, +miscreant. What canst thou and I have to do together? +Venerable Andreas, delay no longer; let the guards be called +in.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—What? Is there then no hope for +me? Does no one feel compassion for the wretched +Abellino? What! <i>no one</i>?—(a pause)—All +are silent?—<i>all</i>! ’Tis enough. Then +my fate is decided—call in your guards.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i> (with a scream of agony, springing forward, +and falling at the feet of the Doge).—Mercy, mercy! +Pardon him—pardon <i>Abellino</i>!</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i> (in rapture).—Sayest thou so? Ho! +ho! then an angel prays for Abellino in his last moments.</p> +<p><i>Rosabella</i> (clasping the Doge’s knees).—Have +mercy on him, my friend, my father, he is a sinner; but leave him +to the justice of Heaven. He is a sinner, but oh, Rosabella +loves him still.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i> (pushing her away with +indignation).—Away, unworthy girl; you rave.</p> +<p>Abellino folded his arms, gazed with eagerness on what was +passing, and tears gushed into his brilliant eyes. +Rosabella caught the Doge’s hand, as he turned to leave +her, kissed it twice, and said, “If you have no mercy on +<i>him</i>, then have none on <i>me</i>. The sentence which +you pass on Abellino will be mine; ’tis for my own life +that I plead as well as Abellino’s. Father, dear +father, reject not my suit, but spare him.”</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i> (in an angry and decided tone).—Abellino +dies.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—And can you look on with dry eyes while +that innocent dove bleeds at your feet? Go, barbarian; you +never loved Rosabella as she deserved. Now she is yours no +longer. She is mine, she is Abellino’s.</p> +<p>He raised her from the ground, and pressed her pale lips +against his own.</p> +<p>“Rosabella, thou art mine; death alone can part +us. Thou lovest me as I <i>would</i> be loved; I am blest +whate’er may happen, and can now set fortune at +defiance. To business, then.”</p> +<p>He replaced Rosabella, who was almost fainting, on the bosom +of Camilla, then advanced into the middle of the chamber, and +addressed the assembly with an undaunted air—</p> +<p>“Venetians, you are determined to deliver me up to the +axe of justice; there is for me no hope of mercy. +’Tis well, act as you please; but ere you sit in judgment +over <i>me</i>, signors, I shall take the liberty of passing +sentence upon some few of <i>you</i>. Now mark me, you see +in me the murderer of Conari, the murderer of Paolo Manfrone, the +murderer of Lomellino. I deny it not. But would you +know the illustrious persons who paid me for the use of my +dagger?”</p> +<p>With these words he put a whistle to his lips, sounded it, and +instantly the doors flew open, the guards rushed in, and ere they +had time to recollect themselves, the chief conspirators were in +custody, and disarmed.</p> +<p>“Guard them well,” said Abellino, in a terrible +voice to the sentinels; “you have your orders. Noble +Venetians, look on these villains; it is to them that you are +indebted for the loss of your three citizens. I accuse of +those murders one, two, three, four, and my good Lord Cardinal +there has the honour to be the fifth.”</p> +<p>Motionless and bewildered stood the accused; tale-telling +confusion spoke in every feature that the charge was true, and no +one was bold enough to contradict Abellino.</p> +<p>“What can all this mean?” asked the senators of +each other, in the utmost surprise and confusion.</p> +<p>“This is all a shameful artifice,” the Cardinal at +length contrived to say; “the villain, perceiving that he +has no chance of escaping punishment, is willing, out of mere +resentment, to involve us in his destruction.”</p> +<p><i>Contarino</i> (recovering himself).—In the wickedness +of his life he has surpassed all former miscreants, and now he is +trying to surpass them in the wickedness of his death.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i> (with majesty).—Be silent. I know +your whole plot, have seen your list of proscriptions, am well +informed of your whole arrangement, and at the moment that I +speak to you the officers of justice are employed, by my orders, +in seizing the gentlemen with the white ribbons round their arms, +who this very night intended to overturn Venice. Be silent, +for defence were vain.</p> +<p><i>Andreas</i> (in astonishment)—Abellino, what is the +meaning of all this?</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—Neither more nor less than that +Abellino has discovered and defeated a conspiracy against the +constitution of Venice and the life of its Doge! The bravo, +in return for your kind intention of sending him to destruction +in a few hours, has preserved you from it.</p> +<p><i>Vitalba</i> (to the accused).—Noble Venetians, you +are silent under this heavy charge.</p> +<p><i>Abellino</i>.—They are wise, for no defence can now +avail them. Their troops are already disarmed, and lodged +in separate dungeons of the State prison; visit them there, and +you will learn more. You now understand probably that I did +not order the doors of this saloon to be guarded for the purpose +of seizing the terrible bravo Abellino, but of taking those +heroes into secure custody.</p> +<p>And now, Venetians, compare together <i>your</i> conduct and +<i>mine</i>. At the hazard of my life have I preserved the +State from ruin. Disguised as a bravo, I dared to enter the +assembly of those ruthless villains, whose daggers laid Venice +waste. I have endured for your sakes storm, and rain, and +frost, and heat; I have watched for your safety while you were +sleeping. Venice owes to my care her constitution and your +lives; and yet are my services deserving of no reward? All +this have I done for Rosabella of Corfu, and yet will you +withhold from me my promised bride? I have saved you from +death, have saved the honour of your wives, and the throats of +your innocent children from the knife of the assassin. Men! +men! and yet will you send me to the scaffold?</p> +<p>Look on this list! See how many among you would have +bled this night, had it not been for Abellino, and see where the +miscreants stand by whom you would have bled! Read you not +in every feature that they are already condemned by heaven and +their own conscience? Does a single mouth unclose itself in +exculpation? Does a single movement of the head give the +lie to my charge? Yet the truth of what I have advanced +shall be made still more evident.</p> +<p>He turned himself to the conspirators</p> +<p>“Mark me!” said he, “the first among you who +acknowledges the truth shall receive a free pardon. I swear +it, I, the bravo Abellino!”</p> +<p>The conspirators remained silent. Suddenly Memmo started +forward and threw himself trembling at the Doge’s feet.</p> +<p>“Venetians,” he exclaimed, “Abellino has +told you true.”</p> +<p>“’Tis false, ’tis false!” exclaimed +the accused altogether.</p> +<p>“Silence!” cried Abellino, in a voice of thunder, +while the indignation which flamed in every feature struck terror +into his hearers: “Silence, I say, and hear me, or rather +hear the ghosts of your victims. Appear, appear!” +cried this dreadful man, in a tone still louder: +“’Tis time!”</p> +<p>Again he sounded his whistle. The folding doors were +thrown open, and there stood the Doge’s much lamented +friends—Conari, Lomellino, and Manfrone.</p> +<p>“We are betrayed!” shouted Contarino, who drew out +a concealed dagger, and plunged it in his bosom up to the very +hilt.</p> +<p>And now what a scene of rapture followed. Tears streamed +down the silver beard of Andreas, as he rushed into the arms of +his long-lost companions; tears bedewed the cheeks of the +venerable triumvirate, as they once more clasped the knees of +their prince, their friend, their brother. These excellent +men, these heroes, never had Andreas hoped to meet them again +till they should meet in heaven; and Andreas blessed heaven for +permitting him to meet them once more on earth. These four +men, who had valued each other in the first dawn of <i>youth</i>, +who had fought by each other’s sides in <i>manhood</i>, +were now assembled in <i>age</i>, and valued each other more than +ever. The spectators gazed with universal interest on the +scene before them, and the good old senators mingled tears of joy +with those shed by the re-united companions. In the happy +delirium of this moment, nothing but Andreas and his friends were +attended to; no one was aware that the conspirators and the +self-murderer Contarino were removed by the guards from the +saloon; no one but Camilla observed Rosabella, who threw herself +sobbing on the bosom of the handsome bravo, and repeated a +thousand times, “Abellino, then, is not a +murderer!”</p> +<p>At length they began to recollect themselves they looked round +them—and the first words which broke from every lip +were—“Hail, saviour of Venice!”—The roof +rung with the name of Abellino, and unnumbered blessings +accompanied the name.</p> +<p>That very Abellino, who not an hour before had been doomed to +the scaffold by the whole assembly, now stood calm and dignified +as a god before the adoring spectators; and now he viewed with +complacency the men whose lives he had saved, and now his eye +dwelt with rapture on the woman whose love was the reward of all +his dangers.</p> +<p>“Abellino!” said Andreas advancing to the bravo, +and extending his hand towards him.</p> +<p>“I am not Abellino,” replied he, smiling, while he +pressed the Doge’s hand respectfully to his lips +“neither am I Flodoardo of Florence. I am by birth a +Neapolitan, and by name Rosalvo. The death of my inveterate +enemy the Prince of Monaldeschi makes it no longer necessary to +conceal who I really am.”</p> +<p>“Monaldeschi?” repeated Andreas, with a look of +anxiety.</p> +<p>“Fear not,” continued Rosalvo; “Monaldeschi, +it is true, fell by my hand, but fell in honourable combat. +The blood which stained his sword flowed from my veins, and in +his last moments conscience asserted her empire in his +bosom. He died not till he had written in his tablets the +most positive declaration of my innocence as to the crimes with +which his hatred had contrived to blacken me; and he also +instructed me by what means I might obtain at Naples the +restoration of my forfeited estates and the re-establishment of +my injured honour. Those means have been already +efficacious, and all Naples is by this time informed of the arts +by which Monaldeschi procured my banishment, and of the many +plots which he laid for my destruction; plots, which made it +necessary for me to drop my own character, and never to appear +but in disguise. After various wanderings chance led me to +Venice. My appearance was so much altered, that I dreaded +not discovery, but I dreaded (and with reason) perishing in your +streets with hunger. In this situation accident brought me +acquainted with the banditti, by whom Venice was then +infested. I willingly united myself to their society, +partly with a view of purifying the Republic from the presence of +these wretches, and partly in the hope of discovering through +them the more illustrious villains by whom their daggers were +employed. I was successful. I delivered the banditti +up to justice, and stabbed their captain in Rosabella’s +sight. I was now the only bravo in Venice. Every +scoundrel was obliged to have recourse to me. I discovered +the plans of the conspirators, and now you know them also. +I found that the deaths of the Doge’s three friends had +been determined on; and in order to obtain full confidence with +the confederates, it was necessary to persuade them that these +men had fallen beneath my dagger. No sooner had my plan +been formed than I imparted it to Lomellino. He, and he +only, was my confidant in this business. He presented me to +the Doge as the son of a deceased friend; he assisted me with his +advice; he furnished me with keys to those doors to the public +gardens, which none were permitted to pass through except Andreas +and his particular friends, and which frequently enabled me to +elude pursuit; he showed me several private passages in the +palace by which I could penetrate unobserved even into the +Doge’s very bed-chamber. When the time for his +disappearance arrived, he not only readily consented to lie +concealed in a retreat known only to ourselves, but was also the +means of inducing Manfrone and Conari to join him in his +retirement, till the fortunate issue of this day’s +adventure permitted me to set them once more at liberty. +The banditti exist no longer; the conspirators are in chains; my +plans are accomplished; and now, Venetians, if you still think +him deserving of it, here stands the bravo Abellino, and you may +lead him to the scaffold when you will.”</p> +<p>“To the scaffold!” exclaimed at once the Doge, the +senators, and the whole crowd of nobility; and every one burst +into enthusiastic praises of the dauntless Neapolitan.</p> +<p>“Oh, Abellino,” exclaimed Andreas, while he wiped +away a tear, “I would gladly give my ducal bonnet to be +such a bravo as thou hast been. ‘Doge,’ did +thou once say to me, ‘thou and I are the two greatest men +in Venice,’ but oh, how much greater is the bravo than the +Doge! Rosabella is that jewel, than which I have nothing in +the world more precious; Rosabella is dearer to me than an +emperor’s crown; Rosabella is thine.”</p> +<p>“Abellino,” said Rosabella, and extended her hand +to the handsome Bravo.</p> +<p>“Triumph!” cried he, “Rosabella is the +Bravo’s Bride,” and he clasped the blushing maid to +his bosom.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER VII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">CONCLUSION.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">And</span> now it would not be at all +amiss to make Count Rosalvo sit down quietly between the good old +Doge and his lovely niece; and then cause him to relate the +motive of Monaldeschi’s hatred, in what manner he lost +Valeria, what crimes were imputed to him, and how he escaped from +the assassins sent in pursuit of him by his enemy; how he had +long wandered from place to place, and how he had at length +learned, during his abode in Bohemia with a gang of gipsies, such +means of disguising his features as enabled him to defy the +keenest penetration to discover in the beggar Abellino the once +admired Count Rosalvo; how in this disguise he had returned to +Italy; and how Lomellino, having ascertained that he was +universally believed at Naples to have long since perished by +shipwreck, and therefore that neither the officers of the +Inquisition, nor the assassins of his enemies were likely to +trouble themselves any more about him, he had ventured to resume, +with some slight alterations, his own appearance at Venice; how +the arrival of Monaldeschi had obliged him to conceal himself, +till an opportunity offered of presenting himself to the Prince +when unattended, and of demanding satisfaction for his injuries; +how he had been himself wounded in several places by his +antagonist, though the combat finally terminated in his favour; +how he had resolved to make use of Monaldeschi’s death to +terrify Andreas still further, and of Parozzi’s conspiracy +to obtain Rosabella’s hand of the Doge; how he had trembled +lest the heart of his mistress should have been only captivated +by the romantic appearance of the adventurer Flodoardo, and have +rejected him when known to be the bravo Abellino; how he had +resolved to make use of the terror inspired by the assassin to +put her love to the severest trial; and how, had she failed in +that trial, he had determined to renounce the inconstant maid for +ever; with many other <i>hows</i>, <i>whys</i>, and +<i>wherefores</i>, which, not being explained, will, I doubt, +leave much of this tale involved in mystery: but before I begin +Rosalvo’s history, I must ask two +questions—First—do my readers like the manner in +which I relate adventures?</p> +<p>Secondly—If my readers <i>do</i> like my manner of +relating adventures, can I employ my time better than in relating +them?</p> +<p>When these questions are answered, I may probably resume my +pen. In the meanwhile, gentlemen and ladies, good-night, +and pleasant dreams attend you.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRAVO OF VENICE***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 2706-h.htm or 2706-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/7/0/2706 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. 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