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+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: UTF-8
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRAVO OF VENICE***
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1886 Cassell & Company edition by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+                          [Picture: Book cover]
+
+                       CASSELL’S NATIONAL LIBRARY.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+                                   THE
+                             BRAVO OF VENICE
+                                A ROMANCE.
+
+
+                        TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN
+
+                                    BY
+                               M. G. LEWIS.
+
+                      [Picture: Decorative graphic]
+
+                       CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED:
+                _LONDON_, _PARIS_, _NEW YORK & MELBOURNE_.
+                                  1886.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+MATTHEW GREGORY LEWIS, who professed to have translated this romance out
+of the German, very much, I believe, as Horace Walpole professed to have
+taken _The Castle of Otranto_ 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, _The East
+Indian_, afterwards played for Mrs. Jordan’s benefit and repeated with
+great success, and also a novel, never published, called _The Effusions
+of Sensibility_, which was a burlesque upon the sentimental school.  He
+wrote also what he called “a romance in the style of _The Castle of
+Otranto_,” which appeared afterwards as the play of _The Castle Spectre_.
+
+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
+_Werter_, 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 _The Monk_, had flagged, but was spurred on
+at the Hague by a reading of Mrs. Radcliffe’s _Mysteries of Udolpho_, 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.”
+
+_The Monk_ 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 _The Monk_ 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
+_The Monk_ 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 _The Castle
+Spectre_ was produced in the year after _The Monk_, and it ran sixty
+nights.  He translated next Schiller’s _Kabale und Liebe_ as _The
+Minister_, but it was not acted till it appeared, with little success,
+some years afterwards at Covent Garden as _The Harper’s Daughter_.  He
+translated from Kotzebue, under the name of _Rolla_, the drama superseded
+by Sheridan’s version of the same work as _Pizarro_.  Then came the
+acting, in 1799, of his comedy written in boyhood, _The East Indian_.
+Then came, in the same year, his first opera, _Adelmorn the Outlaw_; then
+a tragedy, _Alfonso_, _King of Castile_.  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 _The Castle
+Spectre_) “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 _Alfonso_.”
+
+To that time in Lewis’s life belongs this book, _The Bravo of Venice_;
+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 _Rugantino_.
+
+                                                                      H.M.
+
+
+
+
+Book the First.
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+VENICE.
+
+
+IT 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.
+
+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—
+
+“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 _me_ 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_—while _I_—Oh! dreadful
+is the destiny of which I am made the sport!”
+
+He began to examine for the twentieth time the pockets of his tattered
+garments.
+
+“No! not one paolo, by heavens!—and I hunger almost to death.”
+
+He unsheathed his sword; he waved it in the moonshine, and sighed, as he
+marked the glittering of the steel.
+
+“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.”
+
+He wiped away a drop which hung upon his eyelid.
+
+“Pshaw! ’twas not a tear; the night wind is sharp and bitter, and makes
+the eyes water; but as for _tears_—Absurd! my weeping days are over.”
+
+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.
+
+“Right,” he said to himself; “were I to sink under the weight of my
+destiny, I should be myself no longer.”
+
+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.
+
+“’Tis the hand of God which hath guided him hither—yes—I’ll—I’ll
+_beg_—better to play the beggar in Venice than the villain in Naples; for
+the beggar’s heart may beat nobly, though covered with rags.”
+
+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.
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+The stranger turned hastily towards them; the bravo started up and fled;
+the beggar smiled.
+
+“How now?” cried the stranger; “what does all this mean?”
+
+“Oh, ’tis a mere jest, signor, which has only preserved your life.”
+
+“What? my life?  How so?”
+
+“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.”
+
+“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.”
+
+The wretched starving beggar stood like one petrified, and gazed on the
+taunting stranger.
+
+“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.”
+
+“Begone this instant, I say, or by Heaven—”
+
+The unfeeling man here drew out a concealed pistol, and pointed it at his
+preserver.
+
+“Merciful Heaven! and is it thus that services are acknowledged in
+Venice?”
+
+“The watch is at no great distance, I need only raise my voice and—”
+
+“Hell and confusion! do you take me for a robber, then?”
+
+“Make no noise, I tell you.  Be quiet—you had better.”
+
+“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.”
+
+He paused for a moment, then continuing in a dreadful voice, “And when,”
+said he, “thou, Buonarotti, shalt hereafter hear the name of
+_Abellino_—_tremble_!”
+
+Abellino turned away, and left the hard-hearted Venetian.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+THE BANDITTI.
+
+
+AND 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.
+
+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.
+
+“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!”
+
+He paused, folded his arms, and sighed.
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+“It is of me that they are in search,” said Abellino; then advanced a few
+steps, and whistled.
+
+The ruffians stood still; they whispered together, and seemed to be
+undecided.
+
+Abellino whistled a second time.
+
+“’Tis he,” he could hear one of them say distinctly, and in a moment
+after they advanced slowly towards him.
+
+Abellino kept his place, but unsheathed his sword.  The three unknown
+(they were masked) stopped a few paces from him.
+
+“How now, fellow!” quoth one of them; “what is the matter?  Why stand you
+on your guard?”
+
+_Abellino_.—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.
+
+_The First Ruffian_.—Was not your whistling addressed to us?
+
+_Abellino_.—It was.
+
+_A Ruffian_.—And what would you with us?
+
+_Abellino_.—Hear me!  I am a miserable wretch, and starving; give me an
+alms out of your booty!
+
+_A Ruffian_.—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.
+
+_Abellino_.—Or else give me fifty sequins, and I’ll bind myself to your
+service till I shall have worked out my debt.
+
+_A Ruffian_.—Aye? and pray, then, who may you be?
+
+_Abellino_.—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.
+
+_A Ruffian_.—Why, then, did you strike me down, even now?
+
+_Abellino_.—In the hope of being paid for it; but though I saved his
+life, the scoundrel gave me not a single ducat.
+
+_A Ruffian_.—No?  So much the better.  But hark ye, comrade, are you
+sincere?
+
+_Abellino_.—Despair never lies.
+
+_A Ruffian_.—Slave, shouldst thou be a traitor—
+
+_Abellino_.—My heart would be within reach of your hands, and your
+daggers would be as sharp as now.
+
+The three dangerous companions again whispered among themselves for a few
+moments, after which they returned their daggers into the sheath.
+
+“Come on, then,” said one of them, “follow us to our home.  It were
+unwise to talk over certain matters in the open streets.”
+
+“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.”
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+THE TRIAL OF STRENGTH.
+
+
+SCARCELY 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.
+
+“Now, then,” cried one of these, who had conducted Abellino to this
+respectable society, “let us see what you are like.”
+
+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.
+
+“Lord, forgive me my sins!” screamed Cinthia; “out upon him! what an ugly
+hound it is!”
+
+She turned hastily round, and hid her face with her hands.  Dreadful was
+the look with which Abellino repaid her compliment.
+
+“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?”
+
+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.”
+
+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.
+
+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:—
+
+“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.”
+
+Abellino smiled, or rather grinned, and murmured hoarsely—“I am
+starving.”
+
+“Answer, fellow!  Dost thou mean honestly by us?”
+
+“That must the event decide.”
+
+“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!”
+
+“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.”
+
+Cinthia now covered a small table with her best provisions, and filled
+several silver goblets with delicious wine.
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+“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.”
+
+“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?”
+
+“I know not; try me.”
+
+Cinthia removed the table.
+
+“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?”
+
+The banditti burst into a loud fit of laughter.
+
+“Now, then,” cried Abellino, fiercely; “now, then, for the trial.  Why
+come you not on?”
+
+“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?”
+
+Abellino answered him by a scornful laugh.  Matteo became furious.  His
+companions shouted aloud, and clapped their hands.
+
+“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.
+
+Three minutes elapsed ere the subdued bravoes could recover themselves.
+Loudly shouted Abellino, while the astonished Cinthia gazed and trembled
+at the terrible exhibition.
+
+“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.”
+
+“He must have made a compact with the devil!” grumbled Thomaso, and
+forced his dislocated wrist back into its socket.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+THE DAGGERS.
+
+
+ABELLINO, 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.
+
+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, _with_ guards and _without_ 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.
+
+One day he summoned Abellino to attend him in his armoury.
+
+“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.”
+
+Abellino received the instruments of death, but his hand shook as it
+grasped them.
+
+“Possessed of such unfailing weapons, of what immense sums must your
+robberies have made you master!”
+
+“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?”
+
+“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?”
+
+“By the house at Loretto, I think you have a mind to moralise, Abellino?”
+
+“Hark ye, Matteo, only one question.  At the Day of Judgment, which think
+you will hold his head highest, the thief or the assassin?”
+
+“Ha! ha! ha!”
+
+“Think not that Abellino speaks thus from want of resolution.  Speak but
+the word, and I murder half the senators of Venice; but still—”
+
+“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 _they_ 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.”
+
+Abellino laughed.  Matteo proceeded with increased animation—
+
+“Perhaps you will tell me that your trade is _dishonourable_!  And what,
+then, is the thing called _honour_!   ’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, _that_ indeed brings _real_ 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 _good_ things which she has done, or
+_bad_ 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?”
+
+“By my life, ’tis a pity, Matteo, that you should be a bravo; the schools
+have lost an excellent teacher of philosophy.”
+
+“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.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+SOLITUDE.
+
+
+ABELLINO 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.
+
+This want of occupation was irksome to him in the extreme; he panted for
+action, and was condemned to indolence.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+“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.”
+
+He was silent, and abandoned himself to the melancholy recollections
+which thronged before his mind’s eye.
+
+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.
+
+“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.”
+
+“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!”
+
+He was again silent; he bit his lips in fury, raised one emaciated hand
+to heaven, and struck his forehead violently with the other.
+
+“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.”
+
+Suddenly he sprang from the ground after a long silence; his eyes
+sparkled, his countenance was changed; he drew his breath easier.
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+“I will enter into no compact against human nature with five miserable
+cut-throats.  _Alone_ 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 _five_ banditti; _one_ and _one_ 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.”
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+ROSABELLA, THE DOGE’S LOVELY NIECE.
+
+
+“HARK, comrade,” said Matteo the next morning to Abellino; “to-day thou
+shalt make thy first step in our profession.”
+
+“To-day!” hoarsely murmured Abellino; “and on whom am I to show my
+skill?”
+
+“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.”
+
+“Hum!” said Abellino, and measured Matteo with his eye from head to foot.
+
+“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?”
+
+“And you will accompany me?”
+
+“I will be a spectator of your first adventure; ’tis thus I deal by every
+one.”
+
+“And how many inches deep must I plunge my dagger?”
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Thither he immediately bent his course; and hard at his heels followed
+Matteo.
+
+Alone, and in the most retired arbour, sat Rosabella of Corfu, the
+fairest maid in Venice.
+
+Abellino drew near the arbour; he tottered, as he passed its entrance,
+like one oppressed with sudden faintness, and attracted Rosabella’s
+attention.
+
+“Alas, alas!” cried he, “is there no one at hand who will take compassion
+on the infirmity of a poor old man?”
+
+The Doge’s fair niece quitted the arbour hastily, and flew to give
+assistance to the sufferer.
+
+“What ails you, my good father?” she inquired in a melodious voice, and
+with a look of benevolent anxiety.
+
+Abellino pointed towards the arbour; Rosabella led him in, and placed him
+on a seat of turf.
+
+“God reward you, lady,” stammered Abellino, faintly.  He raised his eyes;
+they met Rosabella’s, and a blush crimsoned her pale cheeks.
+
+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?”
+
+“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?”
+
+“The same, my good old man.”
+
+“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.”
+
+The maiden started back; the colour fled from her cheeks.
+
+“Do you wish to behold your assassin?  You shall not die, but if you
+value your life, be silent.”
+
+Rosabella knew not what to think; the presence of the old man terrified
+her.
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+“For the love of heaven!” she cried, “release me.  Let me fly!”
+
+“Lady, fear nothing; _I_ protect you.”  This said, Abellino placed a
+whistle at his lips, and blew it shrilly.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Now did Matteo’s murderer look again towards the arbour, and beheld
+Rosabella half senseless, as she lay on the bank of turf.
+
+“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.”
+
+Rosabella could not speak.  Trembling, she stretched her arms towards
+him, grasped his hand, and pressed it to her lips in silent gratitude.
+
+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.
+
+“By Him who made me,” cried he at length, “oh! thou art fair, Rosabella;
+Valeria was not fairer.”
+
+He bowed himself down to her, and imprinted a burning kiss on the pale
+cheeks of the beauty.
+
+“Leave me, thou dreadful man,” she stammered in terror; “oh, leave me.”
+
+“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—_’Twas
+the bravo_, _Abellino_,” he said, and rushed out of the arbour.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+THE BRAVO’S BRIDE.
+
+
+IT 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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
+_must_ 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.”
+
+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.”
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+THE CONSPIRACY.
+
+
+“CONFUSION!” 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—?”
+
+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.
+
+“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?”
+
+“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.”
+
+_Memmo_.—By my soul, I speak but the plain matter of fact.  Nay, only ask
+Falieri; he can tell you more.
+
+_Falieri_.—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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—And I tell you again that Lomellino knows not what he says.
+
+_Contarino_.—Well, well, only be upon your guard.  Andreas is a terrible
+fellow to deal with.
+
+_Falieri_.—_He_ 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.
+
+_Contarino_.—And _I_ tell you that Andreas is as brave as a lion, and as
+crafty as a fox.
+
+_Falieri_.—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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—Falieri is in the right.
+
+_Memmo_.—Quite, quite.
+
+_Falieri_.—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?
+
+_Memmo_.—Nay, that is an undoubted fact.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—And yet the populace idolises this Andreas.
+
+_Memmo_.—Ay, that is the worst part of the story.
+
+_Falieri_.—But never credit me again if he does not experience a reverse
+of fortune speedily.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Memmo_.—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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—Ha! ha! ha!  As for me, I need not tell you how I am suited.
+
+_Falieri_.—Had we been less extravagant, we might at this moment have
+been sitting quietly in our palaces; but as things stand now—
+
+_Parozzi_.—Well, as things stand now—I verily believe that Falieri is
+going to moralise.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Falieri_.—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 _action_.  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.
+
+_Parozzi_ (with astonishment and delight).—Falieri, are you in your
+senses?  The Cardinal Gonzaga—?
+
+_Falieri_.—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.
+
+_Contarino_ (clasping Falieri’s hand).—Bravo, my friend!  Venice shall
+see a second edition of Catiline’s conspiracy.  Now, then, it is _my_
+turn to speak, for I have not been idle since we parted.  In truth, I
+have as yet _caught_ 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?
+
+_Parozzi_.—Does not each of us keep a list of the handsomest women in the
+Republic, and can we have forgotten number one?
+
+_Falieri_.—Olympia and Rosabella are the goddesses of Venice; our youths
+burn incense on no other altars.
+
+_Contarino_.—Olympia is my own.
+
+_Falieri_.—How?
+
+_Parozzi_.—Olympia?
+
+_Contarino_.—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_ wish _she_
+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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—Contarino, you are our master.
+
+_Contarino_.—And you had not the least suspicion how powerful an ally I
+was labouring to procure for you?
+
+_Parozzi_.—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.
+
+_Memmo_.—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.
+
+_Falieri_.—You have suffered him to live too long already.
+
+_Memmo_.—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.
+
+_Contarino_.—Indeed.  Then take my advice, go into a monastery.
+
+_Memmo_.—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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—As soon as they are found, their first employment must be the
+removal of the Doge’s trio of advisers.
+
+_Contarino_.—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 _we_ 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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+CINTHIA’S DWELLING.
+
+
+SCARCELY 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.
+
+He arrived at Cinthia’s dwelling.  It was already evening.  Cinthia
+opened the door, and Abellino entered the common apartment.
+
+“Where are the rest?” said he in a savage tone of voice whose sound made
+Cinthia tremble.
+
+“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.
+
+“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?”
+
+Abellino gave no answer.
+
+“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—”
+
+“Go, wake the sleepers!” roared the bravo.
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+“Wake the sleepers, my good girl,” said he, “I must speak with them this
+moment.”
+
+Cinthia hesitated.
+
+“Nay, go,” said he, in a fierce voice.
+
+Cinthia retired in silence; yet as she crossed the threshold, she stopped
+for an instant and menaced him with her finger.
+
+Abellino strode through the chamber with hasty steps, his head reclining
+on his shoulder, his arms folded over his breast.
+
+“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.”
+
+Cinthia returned; the four bravoes followed her, yawning, grumbling, and
+still half asleep.
+
+“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.”
+
+They listened to him with an air of indifference and impatience.
+
+“Why, what’s the matter now?” said Thomaso, while he stretched himself.
+
+“Neither more nor less than that our honest, hearty, brave Matteo is
+murdered.”
+
+“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.
+
+A general silence prevailed for some time.
+
+“Murdered!” at length repeated Thomaso, “and by whom?”
+
+_Baluzzo_.—Where?
+
+_Pietrino_.—What? this forenoon?
+
+_Abellino_.—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.
+
+_Cinthia_ (weeping).—Poor dear Matteo.
+
+_Abellino_.—About this time to-morrow you will see his corpse exhibited
+on the gibbet.
+
+_Pietrino_.—What!  Did any one recognise him?
+
+_Abellino_.—Yes, yes! there’s no doubt about his trade, you may depend
+on’t.
+
+_Cinthia_.—The gibbet!  Poor dear Matteo!
+
+_Thomaso_.—This is a fine piece of work.
+
+_Baluzzo_.—Confound the fellow, who would have thought of anything
+happening so unlucky?
+
+_Abellino_.—Why, how now?  You seem to be overcome.
+
+_Struzza_.—I cannot recover myself; surprise and terror have almost
+stupefied me.
+
+_Abellino_.—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.”
+
+_Thomaso_.—What?
+
+_Struzza_.—You laughed?  Hang me if I can see what there is to laugh at.
+
+_Abellino_.—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.
+
+_Thomaso_.—That’s easy to say, but quite out of my power.
+
+_Pietrino_.—Mercy on me, how my teeth chatter.
+
+_Baluzzo_.—Prithee, Abellino, be composed for a moment or two, your
+gaiety at a time like this is quite horrible.
+
+_Cinthia_.—Oh, me! oh, me!  Poor murdered Matteo.
+
+_Abellino_.—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.
+
+_Cinthia_.—Out upon you, monster.
+
+_Abellino_.—What, have you altered your mind, my pretty dear?  Well,
+well, with all my heart, when _you_ are in the humour, perhaps _I_ may
+not have the inclination.
+
+_Baluzzo_.—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.
+
+_Pietrino_.—Nay, this is no season for trifling.
+
+_Struzza_.—Tell us, Abellino; you are a clever fellow; what course is it
+best for us to take?
+
+_Abellino_ (after a pause).—Nothing must be done, or a great deal.  One
+of two things we must choose.  Either we must remain _where_ we are, and
+_what_ 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—
+
+_Thomaso_.—Or else?  Well?
+
+_Abellino_.—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 _Osteria_, 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.
+
+_Thomaso_.—Ha! ha! ha!
+
+_Abellino_.—What _you_ do, that will _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?
+
+_Thomaso_.—Was there ever such a stupid counsellor.
+
+_Pietrino_.—Our decision?  Nay, the point’s not very difficult to decide.
+
+_Abellino_.—I should have thought it _had_ been.
+
+_Thomaso_.—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.
+
+_Pietrino_.—Right, lad, you speak my thoughts exactly.
+
+_Thomaso_.—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.
+
+_All_.—Bravo, bravissimo.
+
+_Pietrino_.—And from this day forth I vote that Thomaso should be our
+captain.
+
+_Struzza_.—Aye, in Matteo’s stead.
+
+_All_.—Right, right.
+
+_Abellino_.—To which I say amen with all my heart.  Now, then, all is
+decided.
+
+
+
+
+Book the Second.
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+THE BIRTHDAY.
+
+
+IN 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.
+
+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.
+
+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 _virtuosi_ 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+“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.”
+
+_Lomellino_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—Fill this goblet to their memory, my old soldier; you have
+earned your rest bravely.
+
+_Lomellino_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—My good Lomellino, the Cyprus wine must have heated your
+imagination.
+
+_Lomellino_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—You are an old enthusiast.  Think you the Emperor is of the
+same opinion?
+
+_Lomellino_.—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.”
+
+_Andreas_.—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.
+
+_Lomellino_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—What!  Have we not many young officers of great promise?
+
+_Lomellino_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—You excite my curiosity.
+
+_Lomellino_.—About a week ago there arrived here a young Florentine
+nobleman called Flodoardo, a youth of noble appearance and great promise.
+
+_Andreas_.—Well?
+
+_Lomellino_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—While celebrating the father’s bravery, you seem to have quite
+forgotten the son.
+
+_Lomellino_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—Has he sense and talent?
+
+_Lomellino_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—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.
+
+_Lomellino_.—Oh! then I have gained at least the _half_ of my cause, and
+I believe the _whole_ 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.
+
+_Andreas_ (smiling).—In the whole course of our acquaintance, Lomellino,
+never did I hear you so enthusiastic!  Go, then, conduct this prodigy
+hither.
+
+_Lomellino_.—I hasten to find him.  And as for you, signora, look to
+yourself! look to yourself, I say!
+
+_Rosabella_.—Nay, prithee, Lomellino, bring your hero hither without
+delay; you have raised my curiosity to the height.
+
+Lomellino quitted the saloon.
+
+_Andreas_.—How comes it that you rejoin not the dancers, my child?
+
+_Rosabella_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_ (smiling, and threatening with his finger).—Child, child!
+
+_Rosabella_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—And Lomellino is with him; they approach.  Rosabella, you have
+made a good guess.
+
+The Doge had scarcely ceased to speak, when Lomellino entered the room,
+conducting a tall young man, richly habited in the Grecian fashion.
+
+“My gracious lord,” said Lomellino, “I present to you the Count
+Flodoardo, who humbly sues for your protection.”
+
+Flodoardo uncovered his head in token of respect, took off his mask, and
+bowed low before the illustrious ruler of Venice.
+
+_Andreas_.—I understand you are desirous of serving the Republic?
+
+_Flodoardo_.—That is my ambition, should your Highness think me deserving
+of such an honour.
+
+_Andreas_.—Lomellino speaks highly of you; if all that he says be true,
+how came you to deprive your own country of your services?
+
+_Flodoardo_.—Because my own country is not governed by an Andreas.
+
+_Andreas_.—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?
+
+_Flodoardo_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—That were much for a stranger to perform.  I would fain make
+the trial whether you can keep your word.
+
+_Flodoardo_.—That is sufficient.  To-morrow, or the day after at least,
+will I perform my promise.
+
+_Andreas_.—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.
+
+_Flodoardo_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—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.
+
+_Flodoardo_.—I could not be entrusted with a more precious charge.
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+“Lady,” said Flodoardo, at length, “can there be a greater misfortune?”
+
+“A misfortune?” said Rosabella, starting as if suddenly awaking from a
+dream; “what misfortune, signor?  Who is unfortunate?”
+
+“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.”
+
+“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?”
+
+“You understand it as I meant: and now tell me, lovely Rosabella, am I
+not indeed unfortunate?”
+
+“And where, then, is the Elysium which you must never possess?”
+
+“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?”
+
+“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.”
+
+“By my life, signora, I spoke but as I thought! my words concealed no
+flattery.”
+
+“See, the Doge enters the saloon with Manfrone and Lomellino: he will
+seek us among the dancers.  Come, let us join them.”
+
+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.
+
+He was still without his mask, and bareheaded: but every eye glanced away
+from the helmets and _barettes_, 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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+THE FLORENTINE STRANGER.
+
+
+TWO 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.
+
+_Parozzi_ (after a long silence).—What, are you both dreaming?  Ho,
+there, Memmo, Falieri, fill your goblets.
+
+_Memmo_ (with indifference).—Well, to please you—.  But I care not for
+wine to-night.
+
+_Falieri_.—Nor I.  Methinks it tastes like vinegar: yet the wine itself
+is good: ’tis our ill temper spoils it.
+
+_Parozzi_.—Confound the rascals.
+
+_Memmo_.—What, the banditti?
+
+_Parozzi_.—Not a trace of them can be found.  It is enough to kill one
+with vexation.
+
+_Falieri_.—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.)
+
+_Parozzi_ (striking his hand against the table passionately).—Flodoardo,
+Flodoardo.
+
+_Falieri_.—In a couple of hours I must attend the Cardinal Gonzaga, and
+what intelligence shall I have to give him?
+
+_Memmo_.—Come, come, Contarino cannot have been absent so long without
+cause; I warrant you he will bring some news with him when he arrives.
+
+_Falieri_.—Pshaw, pshaw!  My life on’t he lies at this moment at
+Olympia’s feet, and forgets us, the Republic, the banditti, and himself.
+
+_Parozzi_.—And so neither of you know anything of this Flodoardo?
+
+_Memmo_.—No more than of what happened on Rosabella’s birthday.
+
+_Falieri_.—Well, then, I know one thing more about him; Parozzi is
+jealous of him.
+
+_Parozzi_.—I?  Ridiculous, Rosabella may bestow her hand on the German
+Emperor, or a Venetian gondolier, without its giving me the least
+anxiety.
+
+_Falieri_.—Ha! ha! ha!
+
+_Memmo_.—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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—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—
+
+_Memmo_.—Which unluckily is exactly the thing which women always do—
+
+_Falieri_.—The old Lomellino seems to be extremely intimate with this
+Flodoardo.  They say he was well acquainted with his father.
+
+_Memmo_.—It was he who presented him to the Doge.
+
+_Parozzi_.—Hark!—Surely some one knocked at the palace door?
+
+_Memmo_.—It can be none but Contarino.  Now, then, we shall hear whether
+he has discovered the banditti.
+
+_Falieri_ (starting from his chair).—I’ll swear to that footstep, it’s
+Contarino.
+
+The doors were thrown open.  Contarino entered hastily, enveloped in his
+cloak.
+
+“Good evening, sweet gentlemen,” said he, and threw his mantle aside.
+And Memmo, Parozzi, and Falieri started back in horror.
+
+“Good God!” they exclaimed, “what has happened?  You are covered with
+blood?”
+
+“A trifle!” cried Contarino; “is that wine? quick, give me a goblet of
+it, I expire with thirst.”
+
+_Falieri_ (while he gives him a cup).—But, Contarino, you bleed?
+
+_Contarino_.—You need not tell me that.  I did not do it myself, I
+promise you.
+
+_Parozzi_.—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.
+
+_Contarino_.—What has happened to me, say you?  Oh! a joke, gentlemen, a
+mere joke.  Here, Falieri, fill the bowl again.
+
+_Memmo_.—I can scarcely breathe for terror.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Memmo_ (shuddering).—Mercy on me! the very sight of it makes my blood
+run cold.
+
+Parozzi brought ointments and linen, and bound up the wound of his
+associate.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Falieri_.—Proceed.
+
+_Contarino_.—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 _determines_ 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.
+
+_Falieri_.—You are a daring fellow, Contarino.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_All_.—Bravo.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—Well?
+
+_Memmo_ (anxiously).—Go on, for God’s sake!
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Falieri_.—What followed?
+
+_Contarino_.—Why then followed a whole legion of sbirri and
+police-officers, and who should be at their head but the Florentine
+stranger.
+
+_All_.—Flodoardo?  What, Flodoardo?
+
+_Contarino_.—Flodoardo.
+
+_Falieri_.—What demon could have guided him thither?
+
+_Parozzi_.—Hell and furies!  Oh, that I had been there.
+
+_Memmo_.—There, now, Parozzi, you see at least that Flodoardo is no
+coward.
+
+_Falieri_.—Hush, let us hear the rest.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—I shall go mad.
+
+_Falieri_.—Everything we design is counteracted; the more trouble we give
+ourselves, the further we are from the goal.
+
+_Memmo_.—I confess it seems to me as if Heaven gave us warning to desist.
+How say you?
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Falieri_.—Do the banditti know who you are?
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Memmo_.—Well, Contarino, in my mind you should thank Heaven that you
+have escaped so well.
+
+_Falieri_.—But since he is an absolute stranger in Venice, how could
+Flodoardo discover the lurking place of the banditti?
+
+_Contarino_.—I know not; probably by mere accident like myself, but by
+the Power that made me, he shall pay dearly for this wound.
+
+_Falieri_.—Flodoardo is rather too hasty in making himself remarked.
+
+_Parozzi_.—Flodoardo must die.
+
+_Contarino_ (filling a goblet).—May his next cup contain poison.
+
+_Falieri_.—I shall do myself the honour of becoming better acquainted
+with the gentleman.
+
+_Contarino_.—Memmo, we must needs have full purses, or our business will
+hang on hand wofully.
+
+When does your uncle take his departure to a better world?
+
+_Memmo_.—To-morrow evening, and yet—ugh, I tremble.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+MORE CONFUSION.
+
+
+SINCE 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 _them_.  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:—
+
+                                 “VENETIANS!
+
+    “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 _heroes_, and now being called
+    _banditti_, 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_ shall find _them_,
+    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,
+    ABELLINO.”
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+THE VIOLET.
+
+
+I INFORMED 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+“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.
+
+“Yet Camilla is in the right,” she resumed, after a pause, and she
+frowned as had she said that Camilla was in the wrong.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+_Rosabella_.—Ah! dear Camilla, is it you?  What brings you hither?
+
+_Camilla_.—You often call me your guardian angel, and guardian angels
+should always be near the object of their care.
+
+_Rosabella_.—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—
+
+_Camilla_.—But still, though your prudence agrees with me, your heart is
+of a contrary opinion.
+
+_Rosabella_.—It is, indeed.
+
+_Camilla_.—Nor do I blame your heart for differing from me, my poor girl.
+I have acknowledged to you without disguise that were _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 _dangerous_ 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.
+
+_Rosabella_.—Dear Camilla, who was talking about husbands?  What I feel
+for Flodoardo is merely affection, friendship.
+
+_Camilla_.—Indeed!  Then you would be perfectly satisfied, should some
+one of our wealthy ladies bestow her hand on Flodoardo?
+
+_Rosabella_ (hastily).—Oh! Flodoardo would not _accept_ her hand,
+Camilla; of that I am sure.
+
+_Camilla_.—Child, child, you would willingly deceive yourself.  But be
+assured that a girl who loves ever connects, perhaps unconsciously, the
+wish for an eternal _union_ with the idea of eternal _affection_.  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.
+
+_Rosabella_.—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 _not_ deserve?
+
+_Camilla_.—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.
+
+_Rosabella_.—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.
+
+_Camilla_ (smiling).—Are your sentiments of duty and gratitude so very
+strong?
+
+_Rosabella_.—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.
+
+_Camilla_.—No—what!  Not like Flodoardo?
+
+_Rosabella_ (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!
+
+_Camilla_.—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.
+
+_Camilla_ 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Now, then, she could not possibly retire immediately, unless she meant to
+violate every common principle of good breeding.
+
+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?
+
+“Signora,” said Flodoardo, merely for the sake of saying something, “you
+do well to enjoy the open air.  The evening is beautiful.”
+
+“But I interrupt your studies, my lord,” said Rosabella.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“Nothing can surpass this purple,” continued Rosabella; “red and blue so
+happily blended, that no painter can produce so perfect a union.”
+
+“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.”
+
+“You seem to attach a value to the flower of which it is but little
+deserving.”
+
+“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.”
+
+He was silent.  Rosabella was silent also.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Rosabella trembled; her eyes could no longer sustain the fire of his
+glances, and a modest blush overspread her face and bosom.
+
+“Rosabella!” at length murmured Flodoardo, unconsciously; “Flodoardo!”
+sighed Rosabella, in the same tone.
+
+“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!”
+
+Rosabella held the flower fast.
+
+“Ask for it what thou wilt.  If a throne can purchase it, I will pay that
+price, or perish.  Rosabella, give me that flower!”
+
+She stole one look at the handsome suppliant and dared not hazard a
+second.
+
+“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.”
+
+The flower trembled in her snowy hand.  Her fingers clasped it less
+firmly.
+
+“You hear me, Rosabella?  I kneel at your feet; and am I then in vain a
+beggar?”
+
+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.”
+
+She tore the flower to pieces, and threw it contemptuously on the ground.
+
+“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!”
+
+She turned from him with disdain, and left Flodoardo rooted to his place
+with sorrow and astonishment.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+THE ASSASSIN.
+
+
+SCARCELY 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.
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 _this_ man was excited by the
+treasures of Andreas and his friends; while _that_ was actuated by
+resentment of some fancied offence, a resentment which could only be
+quenched with the offender’s blood.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Still did they not dare to carry their projects into effect, till some
+principal persons in the State should be prevented by _death_ 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.
+
+“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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+“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.”
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+“’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.
+
+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.
+
+                                 “VENETIANS!
+
+    “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.
+
+    “Twice did I bury my dagger in his heart, and then sent his body to
+    feed the fishes.  The Doge promises _ten_ thousand sequins to him who
+    shall discover Conari’s murderer; and to him who shall be clever
+    enough to _seize_ him, Abellino hereby promises _twenty_.  Adieu,
+    Signors.  I remain your faithful servant,
+
+                                                               “ABELLINO.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+THE TWO GREATEST MEN IN VENICE.
+
+
+IT 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.
+
+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 _them_ 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.
+
+“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!”
+
+“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.
+
+“Who art thou?” stammered out the Doge.
+
+“Thou seest me, and canst doubt?  Well, then, I am Abellino, the good
+friend of your murdered Conari, the Republic’s most submissive slave.”
+
+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.
+
+Abellino nodded to him with an air of familiar protection, and graciously
+condescended to grin upon him with a kind of half-friendly smile.
+
+“Abellino,” said the Doge, at length, endeavouring to recollect himself,
+“thou art a fearful—a detestable man.”
+
+“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.”
+
+The Doge could not help smiling at the bravo’s familiar tone.
+
+“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.”
+
+The Doge made a movement, as he would have left him.
+
+“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.”
+
+“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—”
+
+“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—”
+
+“Name it,” cried the Doge, eagerly; “will ten thousand sequins purchase
+your departure from the Republic?”
+
+“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.”
+
+“Monster—what insolence!”
+
+“Ho! ho!  Patience, patience, good uncle, that is to be.  Will you accept
+my terms?”
+
+“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.”
+
+“Indeed!  Why, in fact, a million is not so great a sum; for look you,
+Andreas, I have just sold for near _half_ a million the lives of your two
+dear friends, Manfrone and Lomellino.  Now give me Rosabella, and I break
+the bargain.”
+
+“Miscreant!  Has Heaven no lightnings?”
+
+“You will not?  Mark me!  In four-and-twenty hours shall Manfrone and
+Lomellino be food for fishes.  Abellino has said it.  Away!”
+
+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.
+
+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 _his_ 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.
+
+“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?”
+
+“Next, then, for Flodoardo!” shouted Parozzi.
+
+“Flodoardo!” muttered Abellino between his teeth; “hum—hum—that’s not so
+easy.”
+
+
+
+
+Book the Third.
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+THE LOVERS.
+
+
+ROSABELLA, 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.
+
+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.
+
+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:—
+
+    “Let no one pretend to Rosabella’s hand, who is not prepared to share
+    the fate of Monaldeschi.
+
+                                 “The Bravo,
+
+                                                               “ABELLINO.”
+
+“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?”
+
+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.
+
+“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—”
+
+“I know all,” answered Flodoardo, with a melancholy air.
+
+“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 _you_.  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—”
+
+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.
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+“Signora,” said he, “are you still angry with me?”
+
+“I am not angry with you,” stammered out Rosabella, and blushed as she
+recollected the garden scene.
+
+“And you have quite forgiven my transgression?”
+
+“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.”
+
+“Signora!”
+
+“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.”
+
+Flodoardo replied not.
+
+“Will you not forgive me?  You must be very difficult to appease—very
+revengeful!”
+
+Flodoardo replied not.
+
+“Will you refuse my offered hand?  Shall all be forgotten?”
+
+“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 _you_ bore a part: I cannot forget the scene that passed between
+us, every circumstance is too precious and sacred.  As to _pardon_”—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.”
+
+Both were now silent.  At length Rosabella resumed the conversation by
+saying—“You have made a long absence from Venice; did you travel far?”
+
+“I did.”
+
+“And received much pleasure from your journey?”
+
+“Much; for everywhere I heard the praises of Rosabella.”
+
+“Count Flodoardo,” she interrupted him with a look of reprehension, but
+in a gentle voice, “would you again offend me?”
+
+“That will soon be out of my power.  Perhaps you can guess what are my
+present intentions.”
+
+“To resume your travels soon?”
+
+“Exactly so; and the next time that I quit Venice, to return to it no
+more.”
+
+“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.”
+
+“By my honour, lady, I never was more in earnest.”
+
+“And whither, then, do you mean to go?”
+
+“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.”
+
+“Oh! this is a mockery, Count.  I have not deserved that you should sport
+with my feelings so cruelly.”
+
+“It is to _spare_ 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.”
+
+“And you really can resolve to abandon the Doge, whose esteem for you is
+so sincere, whose friendship has always been so warm?”
+
+“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.”
+
+“Does, then, your happiness require so much?”
+
+“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.”
+
+“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!”
+
+“What would you of me?”
+
+“My happiness!”
+
+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!”
+
+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.
+
+“Flodoardo,” she cried, “I am thine!” and sank motionless at his feet.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+A DANGEROUS PROMISE.
+
+
+AND 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.
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+“You are dear to me, Flodoardo,” murmured Rosabella, for Camilla and her
+counsels were quite forgotten; “oh, you are very, very dear!”
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+“Stay yet one moment, noble Andreas,” cried the Florentine.
+
+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.
+
+“Young man,” said he, in a stern voice, “the attempt to excuse yourself
+must be fruitless.”
+
+“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 _not_ 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.”
+
+“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.”
+
+“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.”
+
+The Doge started in astonishment at this bold and unexpected request.
+
+“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 _will_ perform such actions, or perish in the attempt.”
+
+The Doge turned from him with a look of displeasure.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.”
+
+“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?”
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+“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, _Abellino_!”
+
+At this unexpected conclusion of a speech on which his happiness or
+despair depended, Flodoardo started back.  The colour fled from his
+cheeks.
+
+“My noble lord!” he said at length, hesitating, “you know well that—”
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+He advanced towards the Doge.
+
+_Andreas_.—Now, then, Flodoardo—your resolution?
+
+_Flodoardo_.—Should I deliver Abellino into your power, do you solemnly
+swear that Rosabella shall be my bride?
+
+_Andreas_.—She shall! and _not till then_.
+
+_Rosabella_.—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—
+
+_Flodoardo_ (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.
+
+_Andreas_.—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.
+
+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.
+
+“Time flies!” cried Flodoardo; “no more delay, then.  In four-and-twenty
+hours will I produce in this very palace this dreaded bravo, Abellino.”
+
+Andreas shook his head.  “Young man,” said he, “be less confident in your
+promises; I shall have more faith in your performance.”
+
+_Flodoardo_ (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.
+
+_Andreas_.—Remember that too much haste is dangerous; rashness will
+destroy even the frail hopes of success which you may reasonably indulge
+at present.
+
+_Flodoardo_.—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.
+
+_Rosabella_ (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!
+
+_Flodoardo_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—Right; to venture: but to achieve?
+
+_Flodoardo_.—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.
+
+“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.”
+
+_Andreas_ (after eyeing him some time with a look of mingled surprise and
+uncertainty).—They shall be present.
+
+_Flodoardo_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—You shall be gratified.
+
+_Flodoardo_.—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.
+
+_Andreas_.—All this shall be done punctually.
+
+_Flodoardo_.—I have nothing more to say.  Noble Andreas, farewell.
+Rosabella, to-morrow, when the clock strikes five, we shall meet again,
+or never.
+
+He said, and rushed out of the apartment.  Andreas shook his head; while
+Rosabella sank upon her uncle’s bosom, and wept bitterly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+THE MIDNIGHT MEETING.
+
+
+“VICTORY!” 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.”
+
+_Gonzaga_.—Flodoardo does not want talents; I had rather he should live
+and join our party.  He is seldom off his guard—
+
+_Parozzi_.—Such vagabonds may well be cautious; they must not forget
+themselves, who have so much to conceal from others.
+
+_Falieri_.—Rosabella, as I understand, by no means sees this Florentine
+with unfavourable eyes.
+
+_Parozzi_.—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.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Gonzaga_.—Are you all invited to the Doge’s to-morrow?
+
+_Contarino_.—All of us, without exception.
+
+_Gonzaga_.—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?
+
+_Falieri_.—He did.
+
+_Memmo_.—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.
+
+_Gonzaga_.—Absurd!  By what means should our designs have been made known
+to him?  The thing is impossible.
+
+_Memmo_.—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?
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Falieri_.—You are right, friend; everything is ready now.  The sooner
+that the blow is struck the better.
+
+_Parozzi_.—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.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—Mark me, friends, we must go armed to the Doge’s
+entertainment.
+
+_Gonzaga_.—All the members of the College of Ten have been particularly
+invited—
+
+_Falieri_.—Down with every man of them!
+
+_Memmo_.—Aye, aye!  Fine talking, but suppose it should turn out to be
+down with ourselves?
+
+_Falieri_.—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.
+
+_Memmo_.—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.
+
+_Gonzaga_.—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.
+
+_Memmo_.—The Pope?  May we count on his protection?
+
+_Gonzaga_ (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.
+
+_Falieri_.—The admiral Adorna, as soon as he hears the alarm-bell, will
+immediately lead his people to our assistance.
+
+_Parozzi_.—Oh, our success is certain.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—Heaven, I am delighted at finding the business at length so
+near the moment of execution!
+
+_Falieri_.—Parozzi, have you distributed the white ribbons by which we
+are to recognise our partisans?
+
+_Parozzi_.—That was done some days ago.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Memmo_.—And yet methinks it would not be unwise to consider the matter
+over again coolly.
+
+_Contarino_.—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.
+
+_Parozzi_.—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.
+
+_Contarino_.—That care we will leave to you, Parozzi, and in the
+meanwhile here’s the health of Abellino.
+
+_All_.—Abellino!
+
+_Gonzaga_.—And success to our enterprise to-morrow.
+
+_Memmo_.—I’ll drink _that_ toast with all my heart.
+
+_All_.—Success to to-morrow’s enterprise!
+
+_Parozzi_.—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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+THE DECISIVE DAY.
+
+
+THE 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!”
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+The Doge advanced slowly into the midst of the assembly.  Every eye was
+fixed upon him.  The hearts of the conspirators beat painfully.
+
+“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.”
+
+_All_ (astonished).—Abellino?  What, the bravo Abellino?
+
+_Gonzaga_.—Of his own accord!
+
+_Andreas_.—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.
+
+_A Senator_.—The engagement will be difficult to fulfil.  I doubt much
+Flodoardo’s keeping his promise.
+
+_Another_.—But if he _should_ perform it, the obligation which Flodoardo
+will lay upon the Republic will not be trifling.
+
+_A Third_.—Nay, we shall be all his debtors, nor do I know how we can
+reward Flodoardo for so important a service.
+
+_Andreas_.—Be that my task.  Flodoardo has demanded my niece in marriage
+if he performs his promise.  Rosabella shall be his reward.
+
+All gazed on each other in silence; some with looks expressing the most
+heartfelt satisfaction, and others with glances of envy and surprise.
+
+_Falieri_ (in a low voice).—Parozzi, how will this end?
+
+_Memmo_.—As I live, the very idea makes me shake as if I had a fever.
+
+_Parozzi_ (smiling contemptuously).—It’s very likely that Abellino should
+suffer himself to be caught!
+
+_Contarino_.—Pray inform me, signors, have any of you ever met this
+Abellino face to face?
+
+_Several Noblemen at once_.—Not I.  Never.
+
+_A Senator_.—He is a kind of spectre, who only appears now and then, when
+he is least expected and desired.
+
+_Rosabella_.—I saw him once; never again shall I forget the monster.
+
+_Andreas_.—And my interview with him is too well known to make it needful
+for me to relate it.
+
+_Memmo_.—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.
+
+“Gracious Heaven!” screamed several of the ladies, “you don’t say so?
+What, strangle us in this very chamber?”
+
+_Contarino_.—The principal point is, whether Flodoardo will get the
+better of _him_, or _he_ of Flodoardo.  Now I would lay a heavy wager
+that the Florentine will return without having finished the business.
+
+_A Senator_.—And _I_ would engage, on the contrary, that there is but one
+man in Venice who is capable of seizing Abellino, and that _that_ 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.
+
+_Another Senator_.—I think with you, signor.  Never was I so struck with
+a man at first sight as I was with Flodoardo.
+
+_Contarino_.—A thousand sequins on Abellino’s not being taken, unless
+death should have taken him first.
+
+_The First Senator_.—A thousand sequins on Flodoardo seizing him—
+
+_Andreas_.—And delivering him up to me, either alive or dead.
+
+_Contarino_.—Illustrious signors, you are witnesses of the wager.  My
+Lord Vitalba, there is my hand on it.  A thousand sequins!
+
+_The Senator_.—Done.
+
+_Contarino_ (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.
+
+_Gonzaga_.—May I request your Highness to inform me whether Flodoardo is
+attended by the sbirri?
+
+_Andreas_.—No, he is alone.  Near four-and-twenty hours have elapsed
+since he set out in pursuit of the bravo.
+
+_Gonzaga_ (to Contarino, with a smile of triumph).—I wish you joy of your
+thousand sequins, signor.
+
+_Contarino_ (bowing respectfully).—Since your Excellency prophesies it I
+can no longer doubt my success.
+
+_Memmo_.—I begin to recover myself!  Well, well! let us see the end.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+THE CLOCK STRIKES FIVE.
+
+
+THE 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
+_one_ thousand sequins, but twenty, if the loss of his wager through
+Abellino’s being captured might but secure the general safety of the
+Republic.
+
+“Hark!” cried Rosabella, “the clock strikes five!”
+
+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!
+
+The venerable Andreas felt a sincere affection for the Florentine; he
+shuddered as he dwelt upon the probability that Abellino’s dagger had
+prevailed.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.”
+
+_Contarino_.—Was it at five o’clock that Flodoardo engaged to produce
+Abellino?  It is now a full hour beyond his time.
+
+_The Senator Vitalba_.—Let him only produce him at last, and he may be a
+month beyond his time if he choose.
+
+_Andreas_.—Hark!  No.  Silence! silence!  Surely I hear footsteps
+approaching the saloon.
+
+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 _barrette_, 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.
+
+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.
+
+“Holy Virgin!” exclaimed Memmo, “I am afraid that—”
+
+“Be silent, signor!” interrupted Contarino, sternly; “there is nothing to
+be afraid of.”
+
+“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.”
+
+_Andreas_ (examining his countenance with extreme anxiety).—Flodoardo,
+have you succeeded?  Is Abellino your prisoner?
+
+_Flodoardo_.—If Abellino is my prisoner, shall Rosabella be my bride?
+
+_Andreas_.—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!
+
+_Flodoardo_.—Illustrious Venetians, ye have heard the Doge’s oath?
+
+_All_.—We are your witnesses.
+
+_Flodoardo_ (advancing a few paces with a bold air, and speaking in a
+firm voice).—Well, then, Abellino is in my power—is in _yours_.
+
+_All_ (in confusion and a kind of uproar).—In ours?  Merciful heaven!
+Where is he?  Abellino!
+
+_Andreas_.—Is he dead or living?
+
+_Flodoardo_.—He still lives.
+
+_Gonzaga_ (hastily).—He lives?
+
+_Flodoardo_ (bowing to the Cardinal respectfully).—He still lives,
+signor.
+
+_Rosabella_ (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.
+
+_The Senator Vitalba_.—Signor Contarino, I have won a thousand sequins of
+you.
+
+_Contarino_.—So it should seem, signor.
+
+_Andreas_.—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.
+
+_Vitalba_.—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.
+
+_Flodoardo_ (extending his arms towards Rosabella, with a melancholy
+air).—There stands the only reward for which I wish.
+
+_Andreas_ (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.
+
+_Two or three Senators_.—Where is he?  Bring him hither.
+
+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.”
+
+“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 _The Bravo’s Bride_.”  And he
+pointed to Rosabella.
+
+“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.”
+
+_Falieri_.—Is Abellino already in this palace?
+
+_Flodoardo_.—He is.
+
+_Vitalba_.—Then why do you not produce him?  Why do you trifle so long
+with our impatience?
+
+_Flodoardo_.—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!
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+“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.
+
+“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.
+
+“Stay, Flodoardo!” she cried, rushing towards him, and—Ha!  Flodoardo was
+gone, and there, in his place, stood Abellino, and shouted out, “Ho! ho!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+APPARITIONS.
+
+
+INSTANTLY 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.
+
+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.
+
+“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.”
+
+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.”
+
+“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.
+
+“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.”
+
+_Andreas_ (clasping his hands together).—Almighty God! can all this be
+possible?
+
+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.
+
+Rosabella opened her eyes; their first look fell upon the bravo.
+
+“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.”
+
+Abellino advanced towards her, and attempted to raise her.  She shrunk
+from his touch with horror.
+
+“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.”
+
+“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!”
+
+_Abellino_ (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.
+
+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.
+
+_Abellino_.—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.
+
+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?”
+
+Rosabella was unable to answer; she stood like one changed to a statue,
+and fixed her motionless eyes on the bravo.
+
+Abellino took her cold hand and pressed it to his lips.
+
+“Rosabella,” said he, “art thou still mine?”
+
+_Rosabella_.—Flodoardo, oh! that I had never loved, had never seen thee!
+
+_Abellino_.—Rosabella wilt thou still be the bride of Flodoardo? wilt
+thou be “the Bravo’s Bride?”
+
+Love struggled with abhorrence in Rosabella’s bosom, and painful was the
+contest.
+
+_Abellino_.—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?
+
+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!”
+
+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.
+
+“Doge of Venice,” said he, “will you keep your promise?  That you gave it
+to me, these noble lords and ladies can testify.”
+
+Andreas.—Monster! miscreant!  Oh! how artfully has this plan been laid to
+ensnare me!  Tell me, Venetians, to _such_ 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?
+
+_All the Senators_.—No, no, by no means.
+
+_Abellino_ (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?
+
+_Andreas_ (in the tone of authority).—Give up your arms.
+
+_Abellino_.—And you will really withhold from me my just reward?  Shall
+it be in vain that I delivered Abellino into your power?
+
+_Andreas_.—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.
+
+_Abellino_ (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 _my_ affair, and I warrant I shall find a word or
+two to say in defence of them, when the judgment day arrives.
+
+_Gonzaga_ (to the Doge).—What dreadful blasphemy.
+
+_Abellino_.—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.
+
+_Gonzaga_ (angrily, and with imperious dignity).—Address not thyself to
+_me_, miscreant.  What canst thou and I have to do together?  Venerable
+Andreas, delay no longer; let the guards be called in.
+
+_Abellino_.—What?  Is there then no hope for me?  Does no one feel
+compassion for the wretched Abellino?  What! _no one_?—(a pause)—All are
+silent?—_all_!  ’Tis enough.  Then my fate is decided—call in your
+guards.
+
+_Rosabella_ (with a scream of agony, springing forward, and falling at
+the feet of the Doge).—Mercy, mercy!  Pardon him—pardon _Abellino_!
+
+_Abellino_ (in rapture).—Sayest thou so?  Ho! ho! then an angel prays for
+Abellino in his last moments.
+
+_Rosabella_ (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.
+
+_Andreas_ (pushing her away with indignation).—Away, unworthy girl; you
+rave.
+
+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 _him_, then have none on _me_.  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.”
+
+_Andreas_ (in an angry and decided tone).—Abellino dies.
+
+_Abellino_.—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.
+
+He raised her from the ground, and pressed her pale lips against his own.
+
+“Rosabella, thou art mine; death alone can part us.  Thou lovest me as I
+_would_ be loved; I am blest whate’er may happen, and can now set fortune
+at defiance.  To business, then.”
+
+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—
+
+“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 _me_, signors, I shall take the liberty of
+passing sentence upon some few of _you_.  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?”
+
+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.
+
+“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.”
+
+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.
+
+“What can all this mean?” asked the senators of each other, in the utmost
+surprise and confusion.
+
+“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.”
+
+_Contarino_ (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.
+
+_Abellino_ (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.
+
+_Andreas_ (in astonishment)—Abellino, what is the meaning of all this?
+
+_Abellino_.—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.
+
+_Vitalba_ (to the accused).—Noble Venetians, you are silent under this
+heavy charge.
+
+_Abellino_.—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.
+
+And now, Venetians, compare together _your_ conduct and _mine_.  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?
+
+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.
+
+He turned himself to the conspirators
+
+“Mark me!” said he, “the first among you who acknowledges the truth shall
+receive a free pardon.  I swear it, I, the bravo Abellino!”
+
+The conspirators remained silent.  Suddenly Memmo started forward and
+threw himself trembling at the Doge’s feet.
+
+“Venetians,” he exclaimed, “Abellino has told you true.”
+
+“’Tis false, ’tis false!” exclaimed the accused altogether.
+
+“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!”
+
+Again he sounded his whistle.  The folding doors were thrown open, and
+there stood the Doge’s much lamented friends—Conari, Lomellino, and
+Manfrone.
+
+“We are betrayed!” shouted Contarino, who drew out a concealed dagger,
+and plunged it in his bosom up to the very hilt.
+
+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 _youth_, who had fought by each
+other’s sides in _manhood_, were now assembled in _age_, 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!”
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+“Abellino!” said Andreas advancing to the bravo, and extending his hand
+towards him.
+
+“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.”
+
+“Monaldeschi?” repeated Andreas, with a look of anxiety.
+
+“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.”
+
+“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.
+
+“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.”
+
+“Abellino,” said Rosabella, and extended her hand to the handsome Bravo.
+
+“Triumph!” cried he, “Rosabella is the Bravo’s Bride,” and he clasped the
+blushing maid to his bosom.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+CONCLUSION.
+
+
+AND 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
+_hows_, _whys_, and _wherefores_, 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?
+
+Secondly—If my readers _do_ like my manner of relating adventures, can I
+employ my time better than in relating them?
+
+When these questions are answered, I may probably resume my pen.  In the
+meanwhile, gentlemen and ladies, good-night, and pleasant dreams attend
+you.
+
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRAVO OF VENICE***
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+<title>The Bravo of Venice, by Heinrich Zschokke</title>
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+<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 &amp; 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&rsquo;S NATIONAL
+LIBRARY.</p>
+
+<div class="gapshortline">&nbsp;</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 &amp; 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 &amp;
+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.&nbsp; His father had an estate in India
+and a post in a Government office.&nbsp; His mother was daughter
+to Sir Thomas Sewell, Master of the Rolls in the reign of George
+III.&nbsp; She was a young mother; her son Matthew was devoted to
+her from the first.&nbsp; As a child he called her
+&ldquo;Fanny,&rdquo; and as a man held firmly by her when she was
+deserted by her husband.&nbsp; From Westminster School, M. G.
+Lewis passed to Christ Church, Oxford.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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.&nbsp; He wrote also what he called
+&ldquo;a romance in the style of <i>The Castle of
+Otranto</i>,&rdquo; 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.&nbsp; &ldquo;I have been introduced,&rdquo; he wrote, in
+July, 1792, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; After the next Christmas he returned to
+Oxford.&nbsp; There was a visit to Lord Douglas at Bothwell
+Castle; there was not much academic work done at Oxford.&nbsp;
+His father&rsquo;s desire was to train him for the diplomatic
+service, and in the summer of 1794 he went to the Hague as
+attach&eacute; to the British Embassy.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s
+<i>Mysteries of Udolpho</i>, a book after his own heart, and he
+wrote to his mother at this time, &ldquo;You see I am horribly
+bit by the rage of writing.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>The Monk</i> was written in ten weeks, and published in the
+summer of 1795, before its author&rsquo;s age was twenty.&nbsp;
+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 &ldquo;irresistible energy of
+genius.&rdquo;&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The author of <i>The Monk</i> came back from the
+Hague to be received as a young lion in London society.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; He was a frequent visitor at Inverary Castle,
+and was fascinated by his host&rsquo;s daughter, Lady Charlotte
+Campbell.&nbsp; Still he wrote on.&nbsp; The musical drama of
+<i>The Castle Spectre</i> was produced in the year after <i>The
+Monk</i>, and it ran sixty nights.&nbsp; He translated next
+Schiller&rsquo;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&rsquo;s
+Daughter</i>.&nbsp; He translated from Kotzebue, under the name
+of <i>Rolla</i>, the drama superseded by Sheridan&rsquo;s version
+of the same work as <i>Pizarro</i>.&nbsp; Then came the acting,
+in 1799, of his comedy written in boyhood, <i>The East
+Indian</i>.&nbsp; 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>.&nbsp; Of the origin of this tragedy Lewis
+gave a characteristic account.&nbsp; &ldquo;Hearing one
+day,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;my introduction of negroes into a
+feudal baron&rsquo;s castle&rdquo; (in <i>The Castle Spectre</i>)
+&ldquo;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&rsquo;s daughter.&nbsp; 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>.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>To that time in Lewis&rsquo;s life belongs this book, <i>The
+Bravo of Venice</i>; which was published in 1804, when the
+writer&rsquo;s age was twenty-nine.&nbsp; 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,
+&ldquo;highly characteristic of the exquisite contrivance, bold
+colouring, and profound mystery of the German
+school.&rdquo;&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; At length he spoke&mdash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Wretch that I am, whither shall I go?&nbsp; Here sit I
+in Venice, and what would it avail to wander further?&nbsp; What
+will become of me?&nbsp; All now slumber, save myself! the Doge
+rests on his couch of down; the beggar&rsquo;s head presses his
+straw pillow; but for <i>me</i> there is no bed except the cold,
+damp earth!&nbsp; There is no gondolier so wretched but he knows
+where to find work by day and shelter by night&mdash;while
+<i>I</i>&mdash;while <i>I</i>&mdash;Oh! dreadful is the destiny
+of which I am made the sport!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He began to examine for the twentieth time the pockets of his
+tattered garments.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No! not one paolo, by heavens!&mdash;and I hunger
+almost to death.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He unsheathed his sword; he waved it in the moonshine, and
+sighed, as he marked the glittering of the steel.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, no, my old true companion, thou and I must never
+part.&nbsp; Mine thou shalt remain, though I starve for it.&nbsp;
+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?&nbsp; She has deserted us for another world, but thou
+and I will never part in this.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He wiped away a drop which hung upon his eyelid.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Pshaw! &rsquo;twas not a tear; the night wind is sharp
+and bitter, and makes the eyes water; but as for
+<i>tears</i>&mdash;Absurd! my weeping days are over.&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Right,&rdquo; he said to himself; &ldquo;were I to sink
+under the weight of my destiny, I should be myself no
+longer.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>At that moment he heard a rustling at no great distance.&nbsp;
+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>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis the hand of God which hath guided him
+hither&mdash;yes&mdash;I&rsquo;ll&mdash;I&rsquo;ll
+<i>beg</i>&mdash;better to play the beggar in Venice than the
+villain in Naples; for the beggar&rsquo;s heart may beat nobly,
+though covered with rags.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He then sprang from the ground, and hastened towards the
+adjoining street.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;What can this mean?&rdquo; thought our mendicant.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Is yon eavesdropper one of death&rsquo;s unlicensed
+ministers?&nbsp; 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?&nbsp; Be not so confident, honest friend!&nbsp;
+I&rsquo;m at your elbow.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He retired further into the shade, and silently and slowly
+drew near the lurker, who stirred not from his place.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;How now?&rdquo; cried the stranger; &ldquo;what does
+all this mean?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, &rsquo;tis a mere jest, signor, which has only
+preserved your life.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What? my life?&nbsp; How so?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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.&nbsp; You owe your life to me,
+and the service is richly worth one little piece of money!&nbsp;
+Give me some alms, signor, for on my soul I am hungry, thirsty,
+cold.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hence, scurvy companion!&nbsp; I know you and your
+tricks too well.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Go, fellow, go! practise these dainty devices on
+the Doge&rsquo;s credulity if you will; but with Buonarotti you
+stand no chance, believe me.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The wretched starving beggar stood like one petrified, and
+gazed on the taunting stranger.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, as I have a soul to save, signor, &rsquo;tis no lie
+I tell you!&mdash;&rsquo;tis the plain truth; have compassion, or
+I die this night of hunger.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Begone this instant, I say, or by
+Heaven&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The unfeeling man here drew out a concealed pistol, and
+pointed it at his preserver.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Merciful Heaven! and is it thus that services are
+acknowledged in Venice?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The watch is at no great distance, I need only raise my
+voice and&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hell and confusion! do you take me for a robber,
+then?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Make no noise, I tell you.&nbsp; Be quiet&mdash;you had
+better.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hark you, signor.&nbsp; Buonarotti is your name, I
+think?&nbsp; I will write it down as belonging to the second
+scoundrel with whom I have met in Venice.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He paused for a moment, then continuing in a dreadful voice,
+&ldquo;And when,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;thou, Buonarotti, shalt
+hereafter hear the name of
+<i>Abellino</i>&mdash;<i>tremble</i>!&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; His wandering eyeballs
+appeared to seek comfort, but they found it not.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Fate,&rdquo; he at length exclaimed in a paroxysm of
+despair, &ldquo;Fate has condemned me to be either the wildest of
+adventurers, or one at the relation of whose crimes the world
+must shudder.&nbsp; To astonish is my destiny.&nbsp; Rosalvo can
+know no medium; Rosalvo can never act like common men.&nbsp; Is
+it not the hand of fate which has led me hither?&nbsp; Who could
+ever have dreamt that the son of the richest lord in Naples
+should have depended for a beggar&rsquo;s alms on Venetian
+charity?&nbsp; I&mdash;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!&nbsp;
+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&rsquo;s
+four quarters could supply, these very men now deny to my
+necessity even a miserable crust of mouldy bread.&nbsp; Oh, that
+is dreadful, cruel&mdash;cruel of men&mdash;cruel of
+Heaven!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He paused, folded his arms, and sighed.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yet will I bear it&mdash;I will submit to my
+destiny.&nbsp; I will traverse every path and go through every
+degree of human wretchedness; and whate&rsquo;er may be my fate,
+I will still be myself; and whate&rsquo;er may be my fate, I will
+still act greatly!&nbsp; Away, then, with the Count Rosalvo, whom
+all Naples idolised; now&mdash;now, I am the beggar
+Abellino.&nbsp; A beggar&mdash;that name stands last in the scale
+of worldly rank, but first in the list of the famishing, the
+outcast, and the unworthy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Something rustled near him.&nbsp; Abellino gazed around.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; As they advanced, they cast inquiring glances
+around them.&nbsp; They were in search of some one.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is of me that they are in search,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis he,&rdquo; 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.&nbsp; The
+three unknown (they were masked) stopped a few paces from
+him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How now, fellow!&rdquo; quoth one of them; &ldquo;what
+is the matter?&nbsp; Why stand you on your guard?&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Was not your whistling
+addressed to us?</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;It was.</p>
+<p><i>A Ruffian</i>.&mdash;And what would you with us?</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;Hear me!&nbsp; I am a miserable wretch,
+and starving; give me an alms out of your booty!</p>
+<p><i>A Ruffian</i>.&mdash;An alms?&nbsp; Ha! ha! ha!&nbsp; By my
+soul that is whimsical!&mdash;Alms from us, indeed!&mdash;Oh, by
+all means!&nbsp; No doubt, you shall have alms in plenty.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;Or else give me fifty sequins, and
+I&rsquo;ll bind myself to your service till I shall have worked
+out my debt.</p>
+<p><i>A Ruffian</i>.&mdash;Aye? and pray, then, who may you
+be?</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;A starving wretch, the Republic holds
+none more miserable.&nbsp; Such am I at present; but
+hereafter&mdash;I have powers, knaves.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Why, then, did you strike me down,
+even now?</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;No?&nbsp; So much the better.&nbsp;
+But hark ye, comrade, are you sincere?</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;Despair never lies.</p>
+<p><i>A Ruffian</i>.&mdash;Slave, shouldst thou be a
+traitor&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;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>&ldquo;Come on, then,&rdquo; said one of them, &ldquo;follow
+us to our home.&nbsp; It were unwise to talk over certain matters
+in the open streets.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I follow you,&rdquo; was Abellino&rsquo;s answer,
+&ldquo;but tremble should any one of you dare to treat me as a
+foe.&nbsp; Comrade, forgive me that I gave your ribs somewhat too
+hard a squeeze just now; I will be your sworn brother in
+recompense.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We are on honour,&rdquo; cried the banditti with one
+voice; &ldquo;no harm shall happen to you.&nbsp; He who does you
+an injury shall be to us as a foe.&nbsp; A fellow of your humour
+suits us well; follow us, and fear not.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>And on they went, Abellino marching between two of them.&nbsp;
+Frequent were the looks of suspicion which he cast around him;
+but no ill design was perceptible in the banditti.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; They landed, threaded
+several by-streets, and at length knocked at the door of a house
+of inviting appearance.&nbsp; It was opened by a young woman, who
+conducted them into a plain but comfortable chamber.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Now, then,&rdquo; cried one of these, who had conducted
+Abellino to this respectable society, &ldquo;let us see what you
+are like.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;s
+countenance.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Lord, forgive me my sins!&rdquo; screamed Cinthia;
+&ldquo;out upon him! what an ugly hound it is!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She turned hastily round, and hid her face with her
+hands.&nbsp; Dreadful was the look with which Abellino repaid her
+compliment.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Knave,&rdquo; said one of the banditti,
+&ldquo;Nature&rsquo;s own hand has marked you out for an
+assassin&mdash;come, prithee be frank, and tell us how thou hast
+contrived so long to escape the gibbet?&nbsp; In what gaol didst
+thou leave thy last fetters?&nbsp; Or from what galley hast thou
+taken thy departure, without staying to say adieu?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Abellino, folding his arms&mdash;&ldquo;If I be such as you
+describe,&rdquo; said he, with an air of authority, and in a
+voice which made his hearers tremble, &ldquo;&rsquo;tis for me
+all the better.&nbsp; Whate&rsquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The five bravoes stepped aside, and consulted together.&nbsp;
+The subject of their conference is easy to be divined.&nbsp; In
+the meanwhile Abellino remained quiet and indifferent to what was
+passing.</p>
+<p>After a few minutes they again approached him.&nbsp; 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:&mdash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hear me, comrade.&nbsp; In Venice there exist but five
+banditti; you see them before you; wilt thou be the sixth?&nbsp;
+Doubt not thou wilt find sufficient employment.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s, is Thomaso, an arch-knave, I promise you;
+&rsquo;twas Pietrino whose bones you handled so roughly to-night;
+and yon thick-lipped Colossus, who stands next to Cinthia, is
+named Stuzza.&nbsp; Now, then, you know us all&mdash;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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Abellino smiled, or rather grinned, and murmured
+hoarsely&mdash;&ldquo;I am starving.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Answer, fellow!&nbsp; Dost thou mean honestly by
+us?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That must the event decide.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mark me, knave; the first suspicion of treachery costs
+you your life.&nbsp; Take shelter in the Doge&rsquo;s palace, and
+girdle yourself round with all the power of the
+Republic&mdash;though clasped in the Doge&rsquo;s arms, and
+protected by a hundred cannons, still would we murder you!&nbsp;
+Fly to the high altar; press the crucifix to your bosom, and even
+at mid-day, still would we murder you.&nbsp; Think on this well,
+fellow, and forget not we are banditti!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You need not tell me that.&nbsp; But give me some food,
+and then I&rsquo;ll prate with you as long as you please.&nbsp;
+At present I am starving.&nbsp; Four-and-twenty hours have
+elapsed since I last tasted nourishment.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Cinthia now covered a small table with her best provisions,
+and filled several silver goblets with delicious wine.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If one could but look at him without disgust,&rdquo;
+murmured Cinthia; &ldquo;if he had but the appearance of
+something human!&nbsp; Satan must certainly have appeared to his
+mother, and thence came her child into the world with such a
+frightful countenance.&nbsp; Ugh! it&rsquo;s an absolute mask,
+only that I never saw a mask so hideous.&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Black and shining, but long and straight, his hair
+flew wildly about his brown neck and yellow face.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Now, then, I am satisfied,&rdquo; roared Abellino, and
+dashed the still full goblet upon the ground.&nbsp; &ldquo;Speak!
+what would you know of me?&nbsp; I am ready to give you
+answers.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The first thing,&rdquo; replied Matteo, &ldquo;the
+first thing necessary is to give us a proof of your strength, for
+this is of material importance in our undertakings.&nbsp; Are you
+good at wrestling?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I know not; try me.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Cinthia removed the table.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Now, then, Abellino, which of us will you
+undertake?&nbsp; Whom among us dost thou think that thou canst
+knock down as easily as yon poor dabbler in the art,
+Pietrino?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The banditti burst into a loud fit of laughter.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Now, then,&rdquo; cried Abellino, fiercely; &ldquo;now,
+then, for the trial.&nbsp; Why come you not on?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Fellow,&rdquo; replied Matteo, &ldquo;take my advice;
+try first what you can do with me alone, and learn what sort of
+men you have to manage.&nbsp; Think you, we are marrowless boys,
+or delicate signors?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Abellino answered him by a scornful laugh.&nbsp; Matteo became
+furious.&nbsp; His companions shouted aloud, and clapped their
+hands.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To business!&rdquo; said Abellino; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m now
+in a right humour for sport!&nbsp; Look to yourselves, my
+lads.&rdquo;&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Loudly shouted Abellino, while the astonished
+Cinthia gazed and trembled at the terrible exhibition.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;By the blood of St. Januarius!&rdquo; cried Matteo at
+length, rubbing his battered joints, &ldquo;the fellow is our
+master!&nbsp; Cinthia, take care to give him our best
+chamber.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He must have made a compact with the devil!&rdquo;
+grumbled Thomaso, and forced his dislocated wrist back into its
+socket.</p>
+<p>No one seemed inclined to hazard a second trial of
+strength.&nbsp; The night was far advanced, or rather the grey
+morning already was visible over the sea.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; All loved, all valued him, for his
+extraordinary talents for a bravo&rsquo;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.&nbsp; Even Cinthia was inclined to feel some
+little affection for him, but&mdash;he really was too ugly.</p>
+<p>Matteo, as Abellino was soon given to understand, was the
+captain of this dangerous troop.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; His weapons were kept
+separate from the rest, and occupied a whole apartment.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Mark me,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;thou wilt turn out a
+brave fellow, that I can see already.&nbsp; It is now time that
+you should earn that bread for yourself which hitherto you have
+owed to our bounty.&nbsp; Look!&nbsp; Here thou hast a dagger of
+the finest steel; you must charge for its use by the inch.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; Here is next a
+glass poniard; whomsoever this pierces, that man&rsquo;s death is
+certain.&nbsp; As soon as the blow is given, you must break the
+dagger in the wound.&nbsp; The flesh will close over the point
+which has been broken off, and which will keep its quarters till
+the day of resurrection!&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s point hath wounded.&nbsp; Take
+these daggers.&nbsp; In giving them I present you with a capital
+capable of bringing home to you most heavy and most precious
+interest.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Abellino received the instruments of death, but his hand shook
+as it grasped them.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Possessed of such unfailing weapons, of what immense
+sums must your robberies have made you master!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Scoundrel!&rdquo; interrupted Matteo, frowning and
+offended, &ldquo;amongst us robbery is unknown.&nbsp; What?&nbsp;
+Dost take us for common plunderers, for mere thieves, cut-purses,
+housebreakers, and villains of that low, miserable
+stamp?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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.&nbsp; Are we not, then, a thousand times more atrocious
+plunderers?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;By the house at Loretto, I think you have a mind to
+moralise, Abellino?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hark ye, Matteo, only one question.&nbsp; At the Day of
+Judgment, which think you will hold his head highest, the thief
+or the assassin?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ha! ha! ha!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Think not that Abellino speaks thus from want of
+resolution.&nbsp; Speak but the word, and I murder half the
+senators of Venice; but still&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Fool! know, the bravo must be above crediting the
+nurse&rsquo;s antiquated tales of vice and virtue.&nbsp; What is
+virtue?&nbsp; What is vice?&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Then, prithee, let us have no more of such
+doubts as these.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Abellino laughed.&nbsp; Matteo proceeded with increased
+animation&mdash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps you will tell me that your trade is
+<i>dishonourable</i>!&nbsp; And what, then, is the thing called
+<i>honour</i>!&nbsp;&nbsp; &rsquo;Tis a word, an empty sound, a
+mere fantastic creature of the imagination!&nbsp; Ask, as you
+traverse some frequented street, in what honour consists?&nbsp;
+The usurer will answer&mdash;&rsquo;To be honourable is to be
+rich, and he has most honour who can heap up the greatest
+quantity of sequins.&rsquo;&nbsp; &rsquo;By no means,&rsquo;
+cries the voluptuary; &lsquo;honour consists in being beloved by
+a very handsome woman, and finding no virtue proof against your
+attacks.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;How mistaken!&rsquo; interrupts the
+general; &lsquo;to conquer whole cities, to destroy whole armies,
+to ruin all provinces, <i>that</i> indeed brings <i>real</i>
+honour.&rsquo;&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;By my life, &rsquo;tis a pity, Matteo, that you should
+be a bravo; the schools have lost an excellent teacher of
+philosophy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do you think so?&nbsp; Why, the fact is thus,
+Abellino.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+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&rsquo;s torch.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Follow my example, friend, and so
+farewell.&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; He frequented the public places,
+the taverns, the gardens, and every scene which was dedicated to
+amusement.&nbsp; But nowhere could he find what ho
+sought&mdash;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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Four years ago,&rdquo; said he, with a sigh,
+&ldquo;just such a heavenly evening was it, that I stole from
+Valeria&rsquo;s lips the first kiss, and heard from
+Valeria&rsquo;s lips for the first time the avowal that she loved
+me.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He was silent, and abandoned himself to the melancholy
+recollections which thronged before his mind&rsquo;s eye.</p>
+<p>Everything around him was so calm, so silent!&nbsp; Not a
+single zephyr sighed among the blades of grass; but a storm raged
+in the bosom of Abellino.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Four years ago could I have believed that a time would
+come when I should play the part of a bravo in Venice!&nbsp; Oh,
+where are they flown, the golden hopes and plans of glory which
+smiled upon me in the happy days of my youth?&nbsp; I am a bravo:
+to be a beggar were to be something better.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When my good old father, in the enthusiasm of paternal
+vanity, so oft threw his arms around my neck, and cried,
+&lsquo;My boy, thou wilt render the name of Rosalvo
+glorious!&rsquo;&nbsp; God, as I listened, how was my blood on
+fire?&nbsp; What thought I not, what that was good and great did
+I not promise myself to do!&nbsp; The father is dead, and the son
+is a Venetian bravo!&nbsp; When my preceptors praised and admired
+me, and, carried away by the warmth of their feelings, clapped my
+shoulder, and exclaimed, &lsquo;Count, thou wilt immortalise the
+ancient race of Rosalvo!&rsquo;&nbsp; Ha, in those blessed
+moments of sweet delirium, how bright and beauteous stood
+futurity before me!&nbsp; 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 &lsquo;Oh, who could forbear to love the great
+Rosalvo?&rsquo;&nbsp; God! oh, God!&nbsp; Away, away, glorious
+visions of the past.&nbsp; To look on you drives me
+mad!&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;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.&nbsp; Fie, ah, fie on&rsquo;t; and
+yet to this wretched lot hath fatality condemned me.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Yes, by Heaven, yes.&nbsp; Great as Count Rosalvo, that
+can I be no longer; but from being great as a Venetian bravo,
+what prevents me?&nbsp; Souls in bliss,&rdquo; he exclaimed, and
+sank on his knee, while he raised his folded hands to heaven, as
+if about to pronounce the most awful oath, &ldquo;Spirit of my
+father; spirit of Valeria, I will not become unworthy of
+you.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He bowed his forehead till it touched the earth, and his tears
+flowed plenteously.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;I will enter into no compact against human nature with
+five miserable cut-throats.&nbsp; <i>Alone</i> will I make the
+Republic tremble, and before eight days are flown, these
+murderous knaves shall swing upon a gibbet.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; And
+then&mdash;Abellino!&nbsp; Abellino, that is the name.&nbsp; Hear
+it, Venice, hear it, and tremble.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Intoxicated with the wildness of his hopes, he rushed out of
+the garden.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;S LOVELY
+NIECE.</span></h3>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Hark</span>, comrade,&rdquo; said
+Matteo the next morning to Abellino; &ldquo;to-day thou shalt
+make thy first step in our profession.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To-day!&rdquo; hoarsely murmured Abellino; &ldquo;and
+on whom am I to show my skill?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nay, to say truth, &rsquo;tis but a woman; but one must
+not give too difficult a task to a young beginner.&nbsp; I will
+myself accompany you, and see how you conduct yourself in the
+first trial.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hum!&rdquo; said Abellino, and measured Matteo with his
+eye from head to foot.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To-day, about four o&rsquo;clock, thou shalt follow me
+to Dolabella&rsquo;s gardens, which are situated on the south
+side of Venice.&nbsp; We must both be disguised, you
+understand.&nbsp; In these gardens are excellent baths; and after
+using the baths, the Doge&rsquo;s niece, the lovely Rosabella of
+Corfu, frequently walks without attendants.&nbsp; And
+then&mdash;you conceive me?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And you will accompany me?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I will be a spectator of your first adventure;
+&rsquo;tis thus I deal by every one.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And how many inches deep must I plunge my
+dagger?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To the hilt, boy, to the very hilt!&nbsp; Her death is
+required, and the payment will be princely; Rosabella in the
+grave, we are rich for life.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Every other point was soon adjusted.&nbsp; Noon was now past,
+the clock in the neighbouring church of the Benedictines struck
+four, and Mattes and Abellino were already forth.&nbsp; They
+arrived at the gardens of Dolabella, which that day were
+unusually crowded.&nbsp; Every shady avenue was thronged with
+people of both sexes; every arbour was occupied by persons most
+distinguished in Venice.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s attention.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Alas, alas!&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;is there no one at
+hand who will take compassion on the infirmity of a poor old
+man?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Doge&rsquo;s fair niece quitted the arbour hastily, and
+flew to give assistance to the sufferer.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What ails you, my good father?&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;God reward you, lady,&rdquo; stammered Abellino,
+faintly.&nbsp; He raised his eyes; they met Rosabella&rsquo;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&rsquo;s illness; and
+oh, that expression of interest ever makes a lovely women look so
+much more lovely!&nbsp; She bent her delicate form over the man
+who was bribed to murder her, and after a while asked him, in
+gentlest tone, &ldquo;Are you not better?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Better?&rdquo; stammered the deceiver, with a feeble
+voice, &ldquo;better&mdash;oh, yes, yes, yes.&nbsp; You&mdash;you
+are the Doge&rsquo;s niece&mdash;the noble Rosabella of
+Corfu?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The same, my good old man.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, lady, I have somewhat to tell you.&nbsp; Be on your
+guard, Start not!&nbsp; What I would say is of the utmost
+consequence, and demands the utmost prudence.&nbsp; Ah, God, that
+there should live men so cruel!&nbsp; Lady, your life is in
+danger.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The maiden started back; the colour fled from her cheeks.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do you wish to behold your assassin?&nbsp; You shall
+not die, but if you value your life, be silent.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Rosabella knew not what to think; the presence of the old man
+terrified her.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Fear nothing, lady, fear nothing; you have nothing to
+fear, while I am with you.&nbsp; Before you quit this arbour you
+shall see the assassin expire at your feet.&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;For the love of heaven!&rdquo; she cried,
+&ldquo;release me.&nbsp; Let me fly!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Lady, fear nothing; <i>I</i> protect you.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s murderer look again towards the arbour,
+and beheld Rosabella half senseless, as she lay on the bank of
+turf.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Your life is safe, beautiful Rosabella,&rdquo; said he;
+&ldquo;there lies the villain bleeding, who conducted me hither
+to murder you.&nbsp; Recover yourself; return to your uncle, the
+Doge, and tell him that you owe your life to Abellino.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Rosabella could not speak.&nbsp; 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?&nbsp; 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&mdash;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>&ldquo;By Him who made me,&rdquo; cried he at length,
+&ldquo;oh! thou art fair, Rosabella; Valeria was not
+fairer.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He bowed himself down to her, and imprinted a burning kiss on
+the pale cheeks of the beauty.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Leave me, thou dreadful man,&rdquo; she stammered in
+terror; &ldquo;oh, leave me.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, Rosabella, why art thou so beauteous, and why am
+I&mdash;Knowest thou who kissed thy cheek, Rosabella?&nbsp; Go,
+tell thy uncle, the proud Doge&mdash;<i>&rsquo;Twas the
+bravo</i>, <i>Abellino</i>,&rdquo; he said, and rushed out of the
+arbour.</p>
+<h3>CHAPTER VII.<br />
+<span class="GutSmall">THE BRAVO&rsquo;S BRIDE.</span></h3>
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was not without good reason that
+Abellino took his departure in such haste.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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.&nbsp; No traces could be found of Abellino.</p>
+<p>The report of this strange adventure spread like wildfire
+through Venice.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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, &ldquo;The Power of Beauty;&rdquo;
+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.&nbsp; But though
+Abellino&rsquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The motive of his journey, in spite of all the
+Doge&rsquo;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&rsquo;s
+credit; but at length the women began to envy her for her share
+in the adventure.&nbsp; The kiss which she had received from the
+bravo afforded them an excellent opportunity for throwing out a
+few malicious insinuations.&nbsp; &ldquo;She received a great
+service,&rdquo; said one, &ldquo;and there&rsquo;s no saying how
+far the fair Rosabella in the warmth of gratitude may have been
+carried in rewarding her preserver.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Very
+true,&rdquo; observed another, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Come, come,&rdquo;
+interrupted a third, &ldquo;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&rsquo;s profession are not
+usually so pretty-behaved, and that this is the first time I ever
+heard of a bravo in the Platonics.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>In short, Rosabella and the horrible Abellino furnished the
+indolent and gossiping Venetians with conversation so long, that
+at length the Doge&rsquo;s niece was universally known by the
+honourable appellation of the &ldquo;Bravo&rsquo;s
+Bride.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But no one gave himself more trouble about this affair than
+the Doge, the good but proud Andreas.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Abellino&rsquo;s retreat
+was inscrutable.</p>
+<h3>CHAPTER VIII.<br />
+<span class="GutSmall">THE CONSPIRACY.</span></h3>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Confusion</span>!&rdquo; exclaimed
+Parozzi, a Venetian nobleman of the first rank, as he paced his
+chamber with a disordered air on the morning after Matteo&rsquo;s
+murder; &ldquo;now all curses light upon the villain&rsquo;s
+awkwardness; yet it seems inconceivable to me how all this should
+have fallen out so untowardly.&nbsp; Has any one discovered my
+designs?&nbsp; I know well that Verrino loves Rosabella.&nbsp;
+Was it he who opposed this confounded Abellino to Matteo, and
+charged him to mar my plans against her?&nbsp; 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?&nbsp;
+And now, having once found the scent&mdash;Parozzi!&nbsp;
+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&mdash;hare-brained may I well
+call children&mdash;who, in order to avoid the rod, set fire to
+their paternal mansions.&nbsp; Parozzi, should all this be
+revealed to Andreas&mdash;?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Here his reflections were interrupted.&nbsp; Memmo, Falieri,
+and Contarino entered the room, three young Venetians of the
+highest rank, Parozzi&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Why, how is this, Parozzi?&rdquo; cried Memmo as he
+entered, a wretch whose every feature exhibited marks of that
+libertinism to which his life had been dedicated; &ldquo;I can
+scarce recover myself from my astonishment.&nbsp; For
+Heaven&rsquo;s sake, is this report true?&nbsp; Did you really
+hire Matteo to murder the Doge&rsquo;s niece?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I?&rdquo; exclaimed Parozzi, and hastily turned away to
+hide the deadly paleness which overspread his countenance;
+&ldquo;why should you suppose that any such designs&mdash;surely,
+Memmo, you are distracted.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;By my soul, I speak but the plain matter
+of fact.&nbsp; Nay, only ask Falieri; he can tell you more.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;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&rsquo;s life.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;And I tell you again that Lomellino
+knows not what he says.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Well, well, only be upon your
+guard.&nbsp; Andreas is a terrible fellow to deal with.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;<i>He</i> terrible.&nbsp; I tell you he
+is the most contemptible blockhead that the universe can
+furnish!&nbsp; Courage perhaps he possesses, but of brains not an
+atom.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Pshaw! pshaw!&nbsp; Everything would go
+to rack and ruin were it not for the wiser heads of this
+triumvirate of counsellors, whom Heaven confound!&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Falieri is in the right.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;Quite, quite.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;And then Andreas is as proud as a beggar
+grown rich and dressed in his first suit of embroidery.&nbsp; By
+St. Anthony, he is become quite insupportable.&nbsp; Do you not
+observe how he increases the number of his attendants daily?</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;Nay, that is an undoubted fact.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;And then, to what an unbounded extent
+has he carried his influence.&nbsp; The Signoria, the Quaranti,
+the Procurators of St. Mark, the Avocatori, all think and act
+exactly as it suits the Doge&rsquo;s pleasure and
+convenience!&nbsp; Every soul of them depends as much on that one
+man&rsquo;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>.&mdash;And yet the populace idolises this
+Andreas.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;Ay, that is the worst part of the
+story.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;But never credit me again if he does not
+experience a reverse of fortune speedily.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;That might happen would we but set our
+shoulders to the wheel stoutly.&nbsp; But what do we do?&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Let us resolve to make the attempt.&nbsp; Let
+us seek recruits on all sides; let us labour with all our might
+and main.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Nay, it&rsquo;s a melancholy truth, that
+during the last half-year my creditors have been ready to beat my
+door down with knocking.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Ha! ha! ha!&nbsp; As for me, I need not
+tell you how I am suited.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Had we been less extravagant, we might
+at this moment have been sitting quietly in our palaces; but as
+things stand now&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;Well, as things stand now&mdash;I verily
+believe that Falieri is going to moralise.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;That is ever the way with old sinners
+when they have lost the power to sin any longer.&nbsp; Then they
+are ready enough to weep over their past life, and talk loudly
+about repentance and reformation.&nbsp; Now, for my own part, I
+am perfectly well satisfied with my wanderings from the common
+beaten paths of morality and prudence.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+Nature evidently has intended me to be a libertine, and I am
+determined to fulfil my destination.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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>.&mdash;Excellent sophistry, by my honour.&nbsp;
+Why, Contarino, ancient Rome has had an irreparable loss in not
+having numbered you among her orators.&nbsp; It is a pity,
+though, that there should be so little that&rsquo;s solid wrapped
+up in so many fine-sounding words.&nbsp; 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>.&nbsp; The Cardinal
+Gonzaga is discontented with the government&mdash;Heaven knows
+what Andreas has done to make him so vehemently his
+enemy&mdash;but, in short, Gonzaga now belongs to our party.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i> (with astonishment and delight).&mdash;Falieri,
+are you in your senses?&nbsp; The Cardinal Gonzaga&mdash;?</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Is ours, and ours both body and
+soul.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s hand).&mdash;Bravo,
+my friend!&nbsp; Venice shall see a second edition of
+Catiline&rsquo;s conspiracy.&nbsp; Now, then, it is <i>my</i>
+turn to speak, for I have not been idle since we parted.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; You all know the
+Marchioness Olympia?</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Olympia and Rosabella are the goddesses
+of Venice; our youths burn incense on no other altars.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Olympia is my own.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;How?</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;Olympia?</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Why, how now?&nbsp; Why stare ye as
+had I prophesied to you that the skies were going to fall?&nbsp;
+I tell you Olympia&rsquo;s heart is mine, and that I possess her
+entire and most intimate confidence.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Contarino, you are our master.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;And you had not the least suspicion
+how powerful an ally I was labouring to procure for you?</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;I must blush for myself while I listen
+to you, since as yet I have done nothing.&nbsp; Yet this I must
+say in my excuse: Had Matteo, bribed by my gold, accomplished
+Rosabella&rsquo;s murder, the Doge would have been robbed of that
+chain with which he holds the chief men in Venice attached to his
+government.&nbsp; Andreas would have no merit, were Rosabella
+once removed.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Rosabella
+will one day be the Doge&rsquo;s heiress.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;All that I can do for you in this business
+is to provide you with pecuniary supplies.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;You have suffered him to live too long
+already.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;Why, I never have been able to make up my
+mind entirely to&mdash;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>.&mdash;Indeed.&nbsp; Then take my advice, go
+into a monastery.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;Our care first must be to find out our old
+acquaintances, Matteo&rsquo;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>.&mdash;As soon as they are found, their first
+employment must be the removal of the Doge&rsquo;s trio of
+advisers.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;That were an excellent idea, if it
+were as easily done as said.&nbsp; Well, then, my friends, this
+principal point at least is decided.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; In either case, we
+shall at least obtain quiet.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; For this
+purpose we must use every artifice to secure in our interests the
+courtesans of the greatest celebrity in Venice.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The
+bell which sounded the hour of assignation has often rang the
+knell of the most sacred principles and most steadfast
+resolutions.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+Flatter the pride of these insolent friars; paint for them upon
+the blank leaf of futurity bishops&rsquo; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Now, then, to work,
+comrades, and so farewell.</p>
+<h3>CHAPTER IX.<br />
+<span class="GutSmall">CINTHIA&rsquo;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&rsquo;s murderer.&nbsp; He quitted the gardens
+unquestioned, nor left the least trace which could lead to a
+discovery.</p>
+<p>He arrived at Cinthia&rsquo;s dwelling.&nbsp; It was already
+evening.&nbsp; Cinthia opened the door, and Abellino entered the
+common apartment.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Where are the rest?&rdquo; said he in a savage tone of
+voice whose sound made Cinthia tremble.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;They have been asleep,&rdquo; she answered,
+&ldquo;since mid-day.&nbsp; Probably they mean to go out on some
+pursuit to-night.&rdquo;&nbsp; Abellino threw himself into a
+chair, and seemed to be lost in thought.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But why are you always so gloomy, Abellino?&rdquo; said
+Cinthia, drawing near him; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s that which makes you
+so ugly.&nbsp; Prithee away with those frowns; they make your
+countenance look worse than nature made it?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Abellino gave no answer.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Really, you are enough to frighten a body!&nbsp; Come,
+now, let us be friends, Abellino; I begin not to dislike you, and
+to endure your appearance; and I don&rsquo;t know
+but&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Go, wake the sleepers!&rdquo; roared the bravo.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The sleepers?&nbsp; Pshaw, let them sleep on, the
+stupid rogues.&nbsp; Sure you are not afraid to be alone with
+me?&nbsp; Mercy on me, one would think I looked as terrible as
+yourself?&nbsp; Do I?&nbsp; Nay, look on me, Abellino.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;s.&nbsp; But
+Abellino&rsquo;s were still sacred by the touch of
+Rosabella&rsquo;s cheek.&nbsp; He started from his seat, and
+removed, yet gently, Cinthia&rsquo;s hand, which rested on his
+shoulder.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Wake the sleepers, my good girl,&rdquo; said he,
+&ldquo;I must speak with them this moment.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Cinthia hesitated.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nay, go,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;The first step is taken,&rdquo; said he to
+himself.&nbsp; &ldquo;There is one moral monster the less on
+earth.&nbsp; I have committed no sin by this murder; I have but
+performed a sacred duty.&nbsp; Aid me, thou Great and Good, for
+arduous is the task before me.&nbsp; Ah, should that task be gone
+through with success, and Rosabella be the reward of my
+labours&mdash;Rosabella?&nbsp; What, shall the Doge&rsquo;s niece
+bestow on the outcast Abellino?&nbsp; Oh, madman that I am to
+hope it, never can I reach the goal of my wishes!&nbsp; No, never
+was there frenzy to equal mine.&nbsp; To attach myself at first
+sight to&mdash;Yet Rosabella alone is capable of thus enchanting
+at first sight&mdash;Rosabella and Valeria?&nbsp; To be beloved
+by two such women&mdash;Yet, though &rsquo;tis impossible to
+attain, the striving to attain such an end is glorious.&nbsp;
+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!&nbsp; Oh, surely, knew the world
+what I gladly would accomplish, the world would both love and
+pity me.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Cinthia returned; the four bravoes followed her, yawning,
+grumbling, and still half asleep.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Come, come!&rdquo; said Abellino, &ldquo;rouse
+yourselves, lads.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They listened to him with an air of indifference and
+impatience.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why, what&rsquo;s the matter now?&rdquo; said Thomaso,
+while he stretched himself.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Neither more nor less than that our honest, hearty,
+brave Matteo is murdered.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What, murdered!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Murdered!&rdquo; at length repeated Thomaso, &ldquo;and
+by whom?&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Baluzzo</i>.&mdash;Where?</p>
+<p><i>Pietrino</i>.&mdash;What? this forenoon?</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;In the gardens of Dolabella, where he
+was found bleeding at the feet of the Doge&rsquo;s niece.&nbsp;
+Whether he fell by her hand, or by that of one of her admirers, I
+cannot say.</p>
+<p><i>Cinthia</i> (weeping).&mdash;Poor dear Matteo.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;About this time to-morrow you will see
+his corpse exhibited on the gibbet.</p>
+<p><i>Pietrino</i>.&mdash;What!&nbsp; Did any one recognise
+him?</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;Yes, yes! there&rsquo;s no doubt about
+his trade, you may depend on&rsquo;t.</p>
+<p><i>Cinthia</i>.&mdash;The gibbet!&nbsp; Poor dear Matteo!</p>
+<p><i>Thomaso</i>.&mdash;This is a fine piece of work.</p>
+<p><i>Baluzzo</i>.&mdash;Confound the fellow, who would have
+thought of anything happening so unlucky?</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;Why, how now?&nbsp; You seem to be
+overcome.</p>
+<p><i>Struzza</i>.&mdash;I cannot recover myself; surprise and
+terror have almost stupefied me.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;Indeed!&nbsp; By my life, when I heard
+the news I burst into laughter.&nbsp; &ldquo;Signor
+Matteo,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;I wish your worship joy of your
+safe arrival.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Thomaso</i>.&mdash;What?</p>
+<p><i>Struzza</i>.&mdash;You laughed?&nbsp; Hang me if I can see
+what there is to laugh at.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;Why, surely you are not afraid of
+receiving what you are so ready to bestow on others?&nbsp; What
+is your object?&nbsp; What can we expect as our reward at the end
+of our labours except the gibbet or the rock?&nbsp; What
+memorials of our actions shall we leave behind us, except our
+skeletons dancing in the air, and the chains which rattle round
+them?&nbsp; He who chooses to play the bravo&rsquo;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.&nbsp;
+Come, come, pluck up your spirits, comrades.</p>
+<p><i>Thomaso</i>.&mdash;That&rsquo;s easy to say, but quite out
+of my power.</p>
+<p><i>Pietrino</i>.&mdash;Mercy on me, how my teeth chatter.</p>
+<p><i>Baluzzo</i>.&mdash;Prithee, Abellino, be composed for a
+moment or two, your gaiety at a time like this is quite
+horrible.</p>
+<p><i>Cinthia</i>.&mdash;Oh, me! oh, me!&nbsp; Poor murdered
+Matteo.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;Hey-day.&nbsp; Why, what is all this!
+Cinthia, my life, are you not ashamed of being such a
+child?&nbsp; Come, let you and I renew that conversation which my
+sending you to wake these gentlemen interrupted.&nbsp; Sit down
+by me, sweetheart, and give me a kiss.</p>
+<p><i>Cinthia</i>.&mdash;Out upon you, monster.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;What, have you altered your mind, my
+pretty dear?&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Death and the devil, Abellino, is this a
+time for talking nonsense?&nbsp; Prithee keep such trash for a
+fitter occasion, and let us consider what we are to do just
+now.</p>
+<p><i>Pietrino</i>.&mdash;Nay, this is no season for
+trifling.</p>
+<p><i>Struzza</i>.&mdash;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).&mdash;Nothing must be done,
+or a great deal.&nbsp; One of two things we must choose.&nbsp;
+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&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Thomaso</i>.&mdash;Or else?&nbsp; Well?</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;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.&nbsp;
+We have already wealth enough to make it unnecessary for us to
+ask how shall we get our bread?&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Ha! ha! ha!</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;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.&nbsp; Now,
+then, what is your decision?</p>
+<p><i>Thomaso</i>.&mdash;Was there ever such a stupid
+counsellor.</p>
+<p><i>Pietrino</i>.&mdash;Our decision?&nbsp; Nay, the
+point&rsquo;s not very difficult to decide.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;I should have thought it <i>had</i>
+been.</p>
+<p><i>Thomaso</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Right, lad, you speak my thoughts
+exactly.</p>
+<p><i>Thomaso</i>.&mdash;We are bravoes, it&rsquo;s true; but
+what then?&nbsp; We are honest fellows, and the devil take him
+who dares to say we are not.&nbsp; However, at any rate, we must
+keep within doors for a few days, lest we should be discovered;
+for I warrant you the Doge&rsquo;s spies are abroad in search of
+us by this.&nbsp; But as soon as the pursuit is over, be it our
+first business to find out Matteo&rsquo;s murderer, and throttle
+him out of hand as a warning to all others.</p>
+<p><i>All</i>.&mdash;Bravo, bravissimo.</p>
+<p><i>Pietrino</i>.&mdash;And from this day forth I vote that
+Thomaso should be our captain.</p>
+<p><i>Struzza</i>.&mdash;Aye, in Matteo&rsquo;s stead.</p>
+<p><i>All</i>.&mdash;Right, right.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;To which I say amen with all my
+heart.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s dancing, or listen in silent rapture
+to Rosabella&rsquo;s music.</p>
+<p>Lomellino, Conari, and Paolo Manfrone, the Doge&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Now, Lomellino,&rdquo; said Andreas to his friend, who
+entered the saloon in which the Doge was at that time
+accidentally alone with his niece, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Lomellino</i>.&mdash;I shall not take upon me to deny that,
+signor.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; By my soul, our Venetians
+fought like lions.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;Fill this goblet to their memory, my old
+soldier; you have earned your rest bravely.</p>
+<p><i>Lomellino</i>.&mdash;Aye, signor, and oh, it is so sweet to
+rest on laurels.&nbsp; But in truth, &rsquo;tis to you that I am
+indebted for mine; it is you who have immortalised me.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;My good Lomellino, the Cyprus wine must
+have heated your imagination.</p>
+<p><i>Lomellino</i>.&mdash;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.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;You are an old enthusiast.&nbsp; Think
+you the Emperor is of the same opinion?</p>
+<p><i>Lomellino</i>.&mdash;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, &ldquo;There is but one man on
+earth whom I fear, and who is worthy to contend with me, and that
+man is Andreas.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Displeased he will be, signor, no
+doubt of it; but what then?&nbsp; Venice need not fear his
+displeasure, while Andreas still lives.&nbsp; But when you and
+your heroes are once gone to your eternal rest&mdash;then, alas
+for thee, poor Venice.&nbsp; I fear your golden times will soon
+come to their conclusion.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;What!&nbsp; Have we not many young
+officers of great promise?</p>
+<p><i>Lomellino</i>.&mdash;Alas, what are most of them?&nbsp;
+Heroes in the fields of Venus.&nbsp; Heroes at a
+drinking-bout.&nbsp; Effeminate striplings, relaxed both in mind
+and body.&nbsp; But how am I running on, forgetful.&nbsp; Ah,
+when one is grown old, and conversing with an Andreas, it is easy
+to forget everything else.&nbsp; My lord, I sought you with a
+request, a request, too, of consequence.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;You excite my curiosity.</p>
+<p><i>Lomellino</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Well?</p>
+<p><i>Lomellino</i>.&mdash;His father was one of my dearest
+friends.&nbsp; He is dead now, the good old generous
+nobleman.&nbsp; In our youth we served together on board the same
+vessel, and many a turbaned head has fallen beneath his
+sword.&nbsp; Ah, he was a brave soldier.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;While celebrating the father&rsquo;s
+bravery, you seem to have quite forgotten the son.</p>
+<p><i>Lomellino</i>.&mdash;His son is arrived in Venice, and
+wishes to enter into the service of the Republic.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Has he sense and talent?</p>
+<p><i>Lomellino</i>.&mdash;That he has; a heart like his
+father&rsquo;s.&nbsp; Will it please you to see and converse with
+him?&nbsp; He is yonder, among the masks in the great
+saloon.&nbsp; One thing I must tell you, as a specimen of his
+designs.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Indeed!&nbsp; I doubt that promise will
+be too much for his power to perform.&nbsp; Flodoardo, I think
+you called him?&nbsp; Tell him I would speak with him.</p>
+<p><i>Lomellino</i>.&mdash;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.&nbsp; 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).&mdash;In the whole course of our
+acquaintance, Lomellino, never did I hear you so
+enthusiastic!&nbsp; Go, then, conduct this prodigy hither.</p>
+<p><i>Lomellino</i>.&mdash;I hasten to find him.&nbsp; And as for
+you, signora, look to yourself! look to yourself, I say!</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;How comes it that you rejoin not the
+dancers, my child?</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i>.&mdash;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.&nbsp;
+Shall I tell you the truth, my dear uncle?&nbsp; I verily believe
+that I am already acquainted with him.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The
+least attentive eye must have singled him out from among a
+thousand.&nbsp; 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).&mdash;Child, child!</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i>.&mdash;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&rsquo;s description&mdash;Oh! look, dear uncle, only
+look yonder; there stands the Greek, as I live.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;And Lomellino is with him; they
+approach.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;My gracious lord,&rdquo; said Lomellino, &ldquo;I
+present to you the Count Flodoardo, who humbly sues for your
+protection.&rdquo;</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>.&mdash;I understand you are desirous of serving
+the Republic?</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;That is my ambition, should your
+Highness think me deserving of such an honour.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Because my own country is not governed
+by an Andreas.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;That were much for a stranger to
+perform.&nbsp; I would fain make the trial whether you can keep
+your word.</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;That is sufficient.&nbsp; To-morrow,
+or the day after at least, will I perform my promise.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;And you make that promise so
+resolutely?&nbsp; Are you aware, young man, how dangerous a task
+it is to surprise these miscreants?&nbsp; They are never to be
+found when sought for, and always present when least expected;
+they are at once everywhere and nowhere.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Perform your promise, and then let me
+hear of you.&nbsp; For the present our discourse shall end here,
+for no unpleasant thoughts must disturb the joy to which this day
+is dedicated.&nbsp; Rosabella, would you not like to join the
+dancers?&nbsp; Count, I confide her to your care.</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;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&rsquo;s chair.&nbsp; She repeated to
+herself Lomellino&rsquo;s assertion, &ldquo;that to see
+Flodoardo, and not to like him, was as difficult as to look at
+Paradise and not wish to enter;&rdquo; and while she gazed on the
+youth, she allowed that Lomellino had not exaggerated.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; In
+truth, such a form as Flodoardo&rsquo;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, &ldquo;The bosom of this
+youth contains the heart of a hero.&rdquo;&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s hand, and led her into the
+ball-room.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Yes, Flodoardo
+and Rosabella passed on in silence till they reached the extreme
+end of the great saloon.&nbsp; Here they stopped, and remained
+before an open window.&nbsp; Some minutes passed, and still they
+spoke not.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Lady,&rdquo; said Flodoardo, at length, &ldquo;can
+there be a greater misfortune?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A misfortune?&rdquo; said Rosabella, starting as if
+suddenly awaking from a dream; &ldquo;what misfortune,
+signor?&nbsp; Who is unfortunate?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He who is doomed to behold the joys of Elysium and
+never to possess them.&nbsp; He who dies of thirst and sees a cup
+stand full before him, but which he knows is destined for the
+lips of another.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And are you, my lord, this outcast from Elysium?&nbsp;
+Are you the thirsty one who stands near the cup which is filled
+for another?&nbsp; Is it thus that you wish me to understand your
+speech?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You understand it as I meant: and now tell me, lovely
+Rosabella, am I not indeed unfortunate?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And where, then, is the Elysium which you must never
+possess?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Where Rosabella is, there is indeed Elysium.&nbsp; You
+are not offended, signora?&rdquo; said Flodoardo, and took her
+hand with an air of respectful tenderness.&nbsp; &ldquo;Has this
+openness displeased you?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You are a native of Florence, Count Flodoardo.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;By my life, signora, I spoke but as I thought! my words
+concealed no flattery.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;See, the Doge enters the saloon with Manfrone and
+Lomellino: he will seek us among the dancers.&nbsp; Come, let us
+join them.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Flodoardo followed her in silence.&nbsp; The dance
+began.&nbsp; Heavens! how lovely looked Rosabella, as she glided
+along to the sweet sounds of music, conducted by Flodoardo.&nbsp;
+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&rsquo;s
+raven locks, as they floated on the air in wild luxuriance.&nbsp;
+A murmur of admiration rose from every corner of the saloon, but
+it rose unmarked by those who were the objects of it.&nbsp;
+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&rsquo;s entertainment.&nbsp; On the second, Parozzi sat in
+his own apartment, with Memmo and Falieri.&nbsp; 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).&mdash;What, are you
+both dreaming?&nbsp; Ho, there, Memmo, Falieri, fill your
+goblets.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i> (with indifference).&mdash;Well, to please
+you&mdash;.&nbsp; But I care not for wine to-night.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Nor I.&nbsp; Methinks it tastes like
+vinegar: yet the wine itself is good: &rsquo;tis our ill temper
+spoils it.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;Confound the rascals.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;What, the banditti?</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;Not a trace of them can be found.&nbsp;
+It is enough to kill one with vexation.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;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.&nbsp; I could tear my flesh for anger.&nbsp; (A
+universal silence.)</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i> (striking his hand against the table
+passionately).&mdash;Flodoardo, Flodoardo.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Pshaw, pshaw!&nbsp; My life on&rsquo;t
+he lies at this moment at Olympia&rsquo;s feet, and forgets us,
+the Republic, the banditti, and himself.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;And so neither of you know anything of
+this Flodoardo?</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;No more than of what happened on
+Rosabella&rsquo;s birthday.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Well, then, I know one thing more about
+him; Parozzi is jealous of him.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;I?&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Ha! ha! ha!</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;Well, one thing at least even envy must
+confess; Flodoardo is the handsomest man in Venice.&nbsp; I doubt
+whether there&rsquo;s a woman in the city who can resist him.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;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&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;Which unluckily is exactly the thing which
+women always do&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;The old Lomellino seems to be extremely
+intimate with this Flodoardo.&nbsp; They say he was well
+acquainted with his father.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;It was he who presented him to the
+Doge.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;Hark!&mdash;Surely some one knocked at
+the palace door?</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;It can be none but Contarino.&nbsp; Now,
+then, we shall hear whether he has discovered the banditti.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i> (starting from his chair).&mdash;I&rsquo;ll
+swear to that footstep, it&rsquo;s Contarino.</p>
+<p>The doors were thrown open.&nbsp; Contarino entered hastily,
+enveloped in his cloak.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Good evening, sweet gentlemen,&rdquo; said he, and
+threw his mantle aside.&nbsp; And Memmo, Parozzi, and Falieri
+started back in horror.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Good God!&rdquo; they exclaimed, &ldquo;what has
+happened?&nbsp; You are covered with blood?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A trifle!&rdquo; cried Contarino; &ldquo;is that wine?
+quick, give me a goblet of it, I expire with thirst.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i> (while he gives him a cup).&mdash;But,
+Contarino, you bleed?</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;You need not tell me that.&nbsp; I did
+not do it myself, I promise you.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;First let us bind up your wounds, and
+then tell us what has happened to you.&nbsp; It is as well that
+the servants should remain ignorant of your adventure; I will be
+your surgeon myself.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;What has happened to me, say
+you?&nbsp; Oh! a joke, gentlemen, a mere joke.&nbsp; Here,
+Falieri, fill the bowl again.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;I can scarcely breathe for terror.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Very possibly; neither should I, were
+I Memmo instead of being Contarino.&nbsp; The wound bleeds
+plenteously it&rsquo;s true, but it&rsquo;s by no means dangerous
+(he tore open his doublet, and uncovered his bosom).&nbsp; There,
+look, comrades; you see it&rsquo;s only a cut of not more than
+two inches deep.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i> (shuddering).&mdash;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>.&mdash;Old Horace is in the right.&nbsp; A
+philosopher can be anything he pleases, a cobbler, a king, or a
+physician.&nbsp; Only observe with what dignified address the
+philosopher Parozzi spreads that plaster for me.&nbsp; I thank
+you, friend; that&rsquo;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>.&mdash;Proceed.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;As soon as it was twilight, I stole
+out, wrapped in my cloak, determined if possible to discover some
+of the banditti.&nbsp; I knew not their persons, neither were
+they acquainted with mine.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; I had some information respecting the rascals, though
+it was but slight, and on these grounds I proceeded.&nbsp; I
+happened by mere accident to stumble upon a gondolier, whose
+appearance excited my curiosity.&nbsp; I fell into discourse with
+him.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; At length he
+insisted on binding my eyes with his handkerchief, and I was
+compelled to submit.&nbsp; Half an hour elapsed before the
+gondola stopped.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The door was opened; my
+business was inquired with great caution, and after some demur I
+was at length admitted.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;You are a daring fellow, Contarino.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Here was no time to be lost.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; For the
+present I only required that Manfrone, Conari, and Lomellino
+should be removed with all possible expedition.</p>
+<p><i>All</i>.&mdash;Bravo.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Well?</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i> (anxiously).&mdash;Go on, for God&rsquo;s
+sake!</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;A knocking was heard at the door; the
+girl went to inquire the cause.&nbsp; In an instant she returned
+pale as a corpse, and &ldquo;Fly! fly!&rdquo; cried she.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;What followed?</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Flodoardo?&nbsp; What, Flodoardo?</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Flodoardo.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;What demon could have guided him
+thither?</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;Hell and furies!&nbsp; Oh, that I had
+been there.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;There, now, Parozzi, you see at least that
+Flodoardo is no coward.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Hush, let us hear the rest.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;We stood as if we had been petrified;
+not a soul could stir a finger.&nbsp; &ldquo;In the name of the
+Doge and the Republic,&rdquo; cried Flodoardo, &ldquo;yield
+yourselves and deliver your arms.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;The devil
+shall yield himself sooner than we,&rdquo; exclaimed one of the
+banditti, and forced a sword from one of the officers.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; But still the confounded moonshine
+gleamed through the window-shutters, and shed a partial light
+through the room.&nbsp; &ldquo;Look to yourself,
+Contarino,&rdquo; thought I; &ldquo;if you are found here, you
+will be hanged for company,&rdquo; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; I felt myself wounded, and
+sprang back.&nbsp; At that moment two pistols were fired, and the
+flash discovered to me a small side door, which they had
+neglected to beset.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; There&rsquo;s an infernal adventure for
+you.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;I shall go mad.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Everything we design is counteracted;
+the more trouble we give ourselves, the further we are from the
+goal.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;I confess it seems to me as if Heaven gave
+us warning to desist.&nbsp; How say you?</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Pshaw, these are trifles!&nbsp; Such
+accidents should only serve to sharpen our wits.&nbsp; The more
+obstacles I encounter, the firmer is my resolution to surmount
+them.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Do the banditti know who you are?</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Well, Contarino, in my mind you should
+thank Heaven that you have escaped so well.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;But since he is an absolute stranger in
+Venice, how could Flodoardo discover the lurking place of the
+banditti?</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Flodoardo is rather too hasty in making
+himself remarked.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;Flodoardo must die.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i> (filling a goblet).&mdash;May his next cup
+contain poison.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;I shall do myself the honour of becoming
+better acquainted with the gentleman.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;To-morrow evening, and yet&mdash;ugh, I
+tremble.</p>
+<h3>CHAPTER III.<br />
+<span class="GutSmall">MORE CONFUSION.</span></h3>
+<p><span class="smcap">Since</span> Rosabella&rsquo;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.&nbsp; He
+found employment for every female tongue, and she who dared not
+to employ her tongue, made amends for the privation with her
+thoughts.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s benevolent care of him,
+than with modesty and respect he requested to decline the
+proposed advantages.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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.&nbsp; Flodoardo remained silent and sad.</p>
+<p>And Rosabella?&nbsp; Rosabella would have belied her sex had
+she remained gay while Flodoardo sorrowed.&nbsp; Her spirits were
+flown, her eyes were frequently obscured with tears.&nbsp; She
+grew daily paler and paler, till the Doge, who doted on her, was
+seriously alarmed for her health.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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>.&nbsp; 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:&mdash;</p>
+<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">&ldquo;VENETIANS!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Let those who need me,
+seek me; they will find me everywhere!&nbsp; 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!&nbsp; Venetians,
+you understand me!&nbsp; Woe to the man who shall attempt to
+discover me; his life and death depend upon my pleasure.&nbsp;
+This comes from the Venetian Bravo, <span
+class="smcap">Abellino</span>.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;A hundred sequins,&rdquo; exclaimed the incensed Doge,
+on reading the paper, &ldquo;a hundred sequins to him who
+discovers this monster Abellino, and a thousand to him who
+delivers him up to justice.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But in vain did spies ransack every lurking place in Venice;
+no Abellino was to be found.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+Abellino&rsquo;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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s garden, which
+none but the Doge&rsquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+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>&ldquo;He is very handsome!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Yet Camilla is in the right,&rdquo; 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.&nbsp; Rosabella had lost her parents
+early.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; Rosabella started.</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i>.&mdash;Ah! dear Camilla, is it you?&nbsp;
+What brings you hither?</p>
+<p><i>Camilla</i>.&mdash;You often call me your guardian angel,
+and guardian angels should always be near the object of their
+care.</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i>.&mdash;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&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Camilla</i>.&mdash;But still, though your prudence agrees
+with me, your heart is of a contrary opinion.</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i>.&mdash;It is, indeed.</p>
+<p><i>Camilla</i>.&mdash;Nor do I blame your heart for differing
+from me, my poor girl.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; No, no, child, believe me, a romantic
+adventurer is no fit husband for Rosabella of Corfu.</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i>.&mdash;Dear Camilla, who was talking about
+husbands?&nbsp; What I feel for Flodoardo is merely affection,
+friendship.</p>
+<p><i>Camilla</i>.&mdash;Indeed!&nbsp; Then you would be
+perfectly satisfied, should some one of our wealthy ladies bestow
+her hand on Flodoardo?</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i> (hastily).&mdash;Oh! Flodoardo would not
+<i>accept</i> her hand, Camilla; of that I am sure.</p>
+<p><i>Camilla</i>.&mdash;Child, child, you would willingly
+deceive yourself.&nbsp; 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>.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;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?&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Deserves it, said I?&nbsp; Oh, what does Flodoardo
+<i>not</i> deserve?</p>
+<p><i>Camilla</i>.&mdash;Ay, ay, friendship, indeed, and
+love.&nbsp; Oh, Rosabella, you know not how often these deceivers
+borrow each other&rsquo;s mask to ensnare the hearts of
+unsuspecting maidens.&nbsp; You know not how often love finds
+admission, when wrapped in friendship&rsquo;s cloak, into that
+bosom, which, had he approached under his own appearance, would
+have been closed against him for ever.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;You say right, Camilla.&nbsp; I really
+believe myself that my prepossession in Flodoardo&rsquo;s favour
+is merely an accidental fancy, of which I shall easily get the
+better.&nbsp; No, no; I am not in love with Flodoardo&mdash;of
+that you may rest assured.&nbsp; 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).&mdash;Are your sentiments of duty
+and gratitude so very strong?</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i>.&mdash;Oh, that they are, Camilla; and so you
+will say yourself hereafter.&nbsp; This disagreeable
+Flodoardo&mdash;to give me so much vexation!&nbsp; I wish he had
+never come to Venice.&nbsp; I declare I do not like him at
+all.</p>
+<p><i>Camilla</i>.&mdash;No&mdash;what!&nbsp; Not like
+Flodoardo?</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i> (casting down her eyes).&mdash;No, not at
+all.&nbsp; Not that I wish him ill, either, for you know,
+Camilla, there&rsquo;s no reason why I should hate this poor
+Flodoardo!</p>
+<p><i>Camilla</i>.&mdash;Well, we will resume this subject when I
+return.&nbsp; I have business, and the gondola waits for
+me.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; She built castles in the air, and destroyed them
+as soon as built.&nbsp; She formed wishes, and condemned herself
+for having formed them.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s overpowering heat.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Thither she bent her steps.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+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&rsquo;s; but it was so
+natural for him to take it, that she could not blame him for
+having done so.&nbsp; But what was she next to do?&nbsp; Draw her
+hand away?&nbsp; Why should she, since he did her hand no harm by
+keeping it, and the keeping it seemed to make him so happy?&nbsp;
+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>&ldquo;Signora,&rdquo; said Flodoardo, merely for the sake of
+saying something, &ldquo;you do well to enjoy the open air.&nbsp;
+The evening is beautiful.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But I interrupt your studies, my lord,&rdquo; said
+Rosabella.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;By no means,&rdquo; answered Flodoardo; and there this
+interesting conversation came to a full stop.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Ah, what a beautiful flower!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;It is a very beautiful flower, indeed,&rdquo; gravely
+observed Flodoardo, and was out of all patience with himself for
+having made so flat a speech.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing can surpass this purple,&rdquo; continued
+Rosabella; &ldquo;red and blue so happily blended, that no
+painter can produce so perfect a union.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Red and blue&mdash;the one the symbol of happiness, the
+other of affection.&nbsp; Ah, Rosabella! how enviable will be
+that man&rsquo;s lot on whom your hand shall bestow such a
+flower.&nbsp; Happiness and affection are not more inseparably
+united than the red and blue which purple that violet.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You seem to attach a value to the flower of which it is
+but little deserving.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Might I but know on whom Rosabella will one day bestow
+what that flower expresses.&nbsp; Yet, this is a subject which I
+have no right to discuss.&nbsp; I know not what has happened to
+me to-day.&nbsp; I make nothing but blunders and mistakes.&nbsp;
+Forgive my presumption, lady.&nbsp; I will hazard such forward
+inquiries no more.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He was silent.&nbsp; Rosabella was silent also.</p>
+<p>But though they could forbid their lips to betray their hidden
+affection; though Rosabella said not&mdash;&ldquo;Thou art he on
+whom this flower shall be bestowed:&rdquo; though
+Flodoardo&rsquo;s words had not expressed&mdash;&ldquo;Rosabella,
+give me that violet, and that which it implies&rdquo;&mdash;oh,
+their eyes were far from being silent.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Sweet, tender, and
+enthusiastic was the smile which played around Rosabella&rsquo;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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Rosabella!&rdquo; at length murmured Flodoardo,
+unconsciously; &ldquo;Flodoardo!&rdquo; sighed Rosabella, in the
+same tone.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Give me that violet!&rdquo; he exclaimed, eagerly, then
+sank at her feet, and in a tone of the most humble supplication
+repeated, &ldquo;Oh, give it to me!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Rosabella held the flower fast.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ask for it what thou wilt.&nbsp; If a throne can
+purchase it, I will pay that price, or perish.&nbsp; Rosabella,
+give me that flower!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She stole one look at the handsome suppliant and dared not
+hazard a second.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My repose, my happiness, my life&mdash;nay, even my
+glory, all depend on the possession of that little flower.&nbsp;
+Let that be mine, and here I solemnly renounce all else which the
+world calls precious.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The flower trembled in her snowy hand.&nbsp; Her fingers
+clasped it less firmly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You hear me, Rosabella?&nbsp; I kneel at your feet; and
+am I then in vain a beggar?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The word &ldquo;beggar&rdquo; recalled to her memory Camilla
+and her prudent counsels.&nbsp; &ldquo;What am I doing?&rdquo;
+she said to herself.&nbsp; &ldquo;Have I forgotten my promise, my
+resolution?&nbsp; Fly, Rosabella, fly, or this hour makes you
+faithless to yourself and duty.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She tore the flower to pieces, and threw it contemptuously on
+the ground.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I understand you, Flodoardo,&rdquo; said she;
+&ldquo;and having understood you, will never suffer this subject
+to be renewed.&nbsp; Here let us part, and let me not again be
+offended by a similar presumption.&nbsp; Farewell!&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; It was cruel in her, she thought, to have
+given him so harsh an answer.&nbsp; She recollected with what
+hopeless and melancholy looks the poor thunderstruck youth had
+followed her steps as she turned to leave him.&nbsp; She fancied
+that she saw him stretched despairing on the earth, his hair
+dishevelled, his eyes filled with tears.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Already she heard those dreadful
+words&mdash;&ldquo;Flodoardo is no more.&rdquo;&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Alas! alas!&rdquo; cried she, &ldquo;this was but a
+wretched attempt to play the heroine.&nbsp; Already does my
+resolution fail me.&nbsp; Ah, Flodoardo!&nbsp; I meant not what I
+said.&nbsp; I love you&mdash;love you now, and must love you
+always, though Camilla may chide, and though my good uncle may
+hate me.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>In a few days after this interview she understood that an
+extraordinary alteration had taken place in Flodoardo&rsquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; No one could relieve her sufferings, for no one
+knew the cause of her melancholy, or the origin of her
+illness.&nbsp; No wonder, then, that Rosabella&rsquo;s situation
+at length excited the most bitter anxiety in the bosom of her
+venerable uncle.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s palace, where different plans for altering the
+constitution of Venice were brought forward and discussed.&nbsp;
+But in all different schemes it was evident that the proposer was
+solely actuated by considerations of private interest.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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.&nbsp; For the
+accomplishment of this part of their plan they relied on the
+daggers of the banditti.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;This desperado is the very man for us!&rdquo; 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&mdash;they sought the daring
+ruffian, and he suffered himself to be found.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+But the sum which Abellino demanded for the murder of this one
+man was enormous.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Give me the reward which I require,&rdquo; said he,
+&ldquo;and I promise, on the word of a man of honour, that after
+this night the Procurator, Conari, shall give you no further
+trouble.&nbsp; Exalt him to heaven, or imprison him in hell,
+I&rsquo;ll engage to find and stab him.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>What could they do?&nbsp; Abellino was not a man to be easily
+beat down in his demands.&nbsp; The Cardinal was impatient to
+attain the summit of his wishes; but his road lay straight over
+Conari&rsquo;s grave!</p>
+<p>Abellino received the sum demanded; the next day the venerable
+Conari, the Doge&rsquo;s best and dearest friend, the pride and
+safeguard of the Republic, was no longer numbered among the
+living.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis a terrible fellow, this Abellino!&rdquo;
+cried the conspirators, when the news reached them, and
+celebrated the Procurator&rsquo;s death in triumph at the
+Cardinal&rsquo;s midnight feast.</p>
+<p>The Doge was almost distracted with terror and
+astonishment.&nbsp; He engaged to give ten thousand sequins to
+any one who should discover by whom Conari had been removed from
+the world.&nbsp; A proclamation to this effect was published at
+the corner of every street in Venice, and made known throughout
+the territories of the Republic.&nbsp; 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">&ldquo;VENETIANS!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You would fain know the author of Conari&rsquo;s
+death.&nbsp; To spare you much fruitless trouble, I hereby
+acknowledge that I, Abellino, was his assassin.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Twice did I bury my dagger in his heart, and then sent
+his body to feed the fishes.&nbsp; The Doge promises <i>ten</i>
+thousand sequins to him who shall discover Conari&rsquo;s
+murderer; and to him who shall be clever enough to <i>seize</i>
+him, Abellino hereby promises <i>twenty</i>.&nbsp; Adieu,
+Signors.&nbsp; I remain your faithful servant,</p>
+<p style="text-align: right">&ldquo;<span
+class="smcap">Abellino</span>.&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; Within the memory of man had no one ever treated
+with such derision the celebrated Venetian police, or set the
+Doge&rsquo;s power at defiance with such proud temerity.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; 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?&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The Cardinal and his associates were proud of
+their terrible confederate, and looking forward with confidence
+to the triumphant issue of their undertaking.&nbsp; The deserted
+family of Conari called down curses on his murderer&rsquo;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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Yet, after all,&rdquo; said Andreas one evening, as he
+sat alone in his private chamber, &ldquo;after all, it must be
+confessed that this Abellino is a singular man.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Would that I could once get a sight
+of him!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Look up, then!&rdquo; roared Abellino, and clapped the
+Doge on the shoulder.&nbsp; Andreas started from his seat.&nbsp;
+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>&ldquo;Who art thou?&rdquo; stammered out the Doge.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Thou seest me, and canst doubt?&nbsp; Well, then, I am
+Abellino, the good friend of your murdered Conari, the
+Republic&rsquo;s most submissive slave.&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Abellino,&rdquo; said the Doge, at length, endeavouring
+to recollect himself, &ldquo;thou art a fearful&mdash;a
+detestable man.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Fearful?&rdquo; answered the bravo; &ldquo;dost thou
+think me so?&nbsp; Good, that glads me to the very heart!&nbsp;
+Detestable? that may be so, or it may not.&nbsp; I confess, the
+sign which I hang out gives no great promise of good
+entertainment within; but yet, Andreas, one thing is
+certain.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Doge could not help smiling at the bravo&rsquo;s familiar
+tone.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nay, nay,&rdquo; continued Abellino, &ldquo;no smiles
+of disbelief, if you please.&nbsp; Allow me, though a bravo, to
+compare myself to a Doge; truly, I think there&rsquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Doge made a movement, as he would have left him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Not so fast,&rdquo; said Abellino, laughing rudely, and
+he barred the Doge&rsquo;s passage.&nbsp; &ldquo;Accident seldom
+unites in so small a space as this chamber a pair of such great
+men.&nbsp; Stay where you are, for I have not done with you yet;
+we must have a little conversation.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hear me, Abellino,&rdquo; said the Doge, mustering up
+all the dignity which he possessed; &ldquo;thou hast received
+great talents from Nature: why dost thou employ them to so little
+advantage?&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; If this offer is rejected, at
+least quit with all speed the territory of Venice, or I
+swear&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ho! ho!&rdquo; interrupted Abellino; &ldquo;pardon and
+protection, say you?&nbsp; It is long since I thought it worth my
+while to care for such trifles.&nbsp; Abellino is able to protect
+himself without foreign aid; and, as to pardon, mortals cannot
+give absolution for sins like mine.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; You would know the name
+of him who bribed me to be Conari&rsquo;s murderer?&nbsp; Well,
+well, you shall know it, but not to-day.&nbsp; I must quit with
+all speed the Venetian territory? and wherefore; through fear of
+thee?&nbsp; Ho! ho!&nbsp; Through fear of Venice?&nbsp; Ha,
+Abellino fears not Venice; &rsquo;tis Venice that fears
+Abellino!&nbsp; You would have me abjure my profession?&nbsp;
+Well, Andreas, there is one condition, which,
+perhaps&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Name it,&rdquo; cried the Doge, eagerly; &ldquo;will
+ten thousand sequins purchase your departure from the
+Republic?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I would gladly give you twice as much myself, could you
+recall the insult of offering Abellino so miserable a
+bribe!&nbsp; No, Andreas, but one price can pay me: give me your
+niece for my bride.&nbsp; I love Rosabella, the daughter of
+Guiscard of Corfu.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Monster&mdash;what insolence!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ho! ho!&nbsp; Patience, patience, good uncle, that is
+to be.&nbsp; Will you accept my terms?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Name what sum will satisfy you, and it shall be yours
+this instant, so you will only relieve Venice from your
+presence.&nbsp; Though it should cost the Republic a million she
+will be a gainer, if her air is no longer poisoned by your
+breath.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed!&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Now give me Rosabella, and I break the
+bargain.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Miscreant!&nbsp; Has Heaven no lightnings?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You will not?&nbsp; Mark me!&nbsp; In four-and-twenty
+hours shall Manfrone and Lomellino be food for fishes.&nbsp;
+Abellino has said it.&nbsp; Away!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>And with these words he drew a pistol from under his cloak,
+and flashed it in the Doge&rsquo;s face.&nbsp; Blinded by the
+powder, and confused by the unexpected explosion, Andreas started
+back, and sunk bewildered on a neighbouring sofa.&nbsp; He soon
+recovered from his astonishment.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The table
+was spread with the most luxurious profusion, and they arranged
+over their flowing goblets plans for the Republic&rsquo;s
+ruin.&nbsp; The Cardinal related how he had of late contrived to
+insinuate himself into the Doge&rsquo;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.&nbsp; Contarino boasted that he doubted not before long to
+be appointed to the vacant procuratorship.&nbsp; Parozzi reckoned
+for <i>his</i> share upon Rosabella&rsquo;s hand, and the place
+either of Lomellino or Manfrone, when once those two chief
+obstacles to his hope should be removed.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Wine, there!&rdquo; cried he; &ldquo;the work is
+done.&nbsp; Manfrone and Lomellino are at supper with the
+worms.&nbsp; And I have thrown the Doge himself into such a fit
+of terror that I warrant he will not recover himself
+easily.&nbsp; Now answer are you content with me, you
+bloodhounds?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Next, then, for Flodoardo!&rdquo; shouted Parozzi.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Flodoardo!&rdquo; muttered Abellino between his teeth;
+&ldquo;hum&mdash;hum&mdash;that&rsquo;s not so easy.&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; She loved the noble Flodoardo; and
+who could have known Flodoardo and not have loved him?&nbsp; His
+majestic stature, his expressive countenance, his enthusiastic
+glance, his whole being declared aloud&mdash;Flodoardo is
+Nature&rsquo;s favourite, and Rosabella had been always a great
+admirer of Nature.</p>
+<p>But if Rosabella was ill, Flodoardo was scarcely better.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; He had now been absent for three whole weeks.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Rosabella was too ill to receive
+her suitor&rsquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; It was examined, and found to
+contain the following lines, apparently written in
+blood:&mdash;</p>
+<blockquote><p>&ldquo;Let no one pretend to Rosabella&rsquo;s
+hand, who is not prepared to share the fate of Monaldeschi.</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">&ldquo;The Bravo,</p>
+<p style="text-align: right">&ldquo;<span
+class="smcap">Abellino</span>.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, where shall I now fly for comfort? for
+protection?&rdquo; exclaimed the Doge in despair, when this
+dreadful news was announced.&nbsp; &ldquo;Why, why, is Flodoardo
+absent?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Anxiously did he now desire the youth&rsquo;s return, to
+support him under the weight of these heavy misfortunes; nor was
+it long before that desire was gratified.&nbsp; Flodoardo
+returned.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Welcome, noble youth!&rdquo; said the Doge, when he saw
+the Florentine enter his apartment.&nbsp; &ldquo;You must not in
+future deprive me of your presence for so long.&nbsp; I am now a
+poor forsaken old man.&nbsp; You have heard that
+Lomellino&mdash;that Manfrone&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I know all,&rdquo; answered Flodoardo, with a
+melancholy air.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Satan has burst his chains, and now inhabits Venice
+under the name of Abellino, robbing me of all that my soul holds
+precious.&nbsp; Flodoardo, for Heaven&rsquo;s love, be cautious;
+often, during your absence, have I trembled lest the
+miscreant&rsquo;s dagger should have deprived me too of
+<i>you</i>.&nbsp; I have much to say to you, my young friend, but
+I must defer it till the evening.&nbsp; A foreigner of
+consequence has appointed this hour for an audience, and I must
+hasten to receive him&mdash;but in the evening&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He was interrupted by the appearance of Rosabella, who, with
+tottering steps and pale cheeks, advanced slowly into the
+apartment.&nbsp; She saw Flodoardo, and a faint blush overspread
+her countenance.&nbsp; Flodoardo rose from his seat, and welcomed
+her with an air of distant respect.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do not go yet,&rdquo; said the Doge; &ldquo;perhaps in
+half an hour I may be at liberty: in the meanwhile I leave you to
+entertain my poor Rosabella.&nbsp; She has been very ill during
+your absence; and I am still uneasy about her health.&nbsp; She
+kept her bed till yesterday, and truly I think she has left it
+too soon.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The venerable Doge quitted the apartment, and the lovers once
+more found themselves alone.&nbsp; Rosabella drew near the
+window; Flodoardo at length ventured to approach it also.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Signora,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;are you still angry
+with me?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am not angry with you,&rdquo; stammered out
+Rosabella, and blushed as she recollected the garden scene.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And you have quite forgiven my
+transgression?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Your transgression?&rdquo; repeated Rosabella, with a
+faint smile; &ldquo;yes, if it was a transgression, I have quite
+forgiven it.&nbsp; 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&mdash;and I am dying;
+I feel it.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Signora!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nay, &rsquo;tis past a doubt.&nbsp; It&rsquo;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.&nbsp; And
+therefore&mdash;therefore, I now ask your pardon, signor, for the
+vexation which I was obliged to cause to you the last time we
+met.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Flodoardo replied not.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Will you not forgive me?&nbsp; You must be very
+difficult to appease&mdash;very revengeful!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Flodoardo replied not.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Will you refuse my offered hand?&nbsp; Shall all be
+forgotten?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Forgotten, lady?&nbsp; Never, never&mdash;every word
+and look of yours is stamped on my memory, never to be
+effaced.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; As to
+<i>pardon</i>&rdquo;&mdash;he took her extended hand and pressed
+it respectfully to his lips&mdash;&ldquo;I would to Heaven, dear
+lady, that you had in truth injured me much, that I might have
+much to forgive you.&nbsp; Alas! I have at present nothing to
+pardon.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Both were now silent.&nbsp; At length Rosabella resumed the
+conversation by saying&mdash;&ldquo;You have made a long absence
+from Venice; did you travel far?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I did.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And received much pleasure from your
+journey?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Much; for everywhere I heard the praises of
+Rosabella.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Count Flodoardo,&rdquo; she interrupted him with a look
+of reprehension, but in a gentle voice, &ldquo;would you again
+offend me?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That will soon be out of my power.&nbsp; Perhaps you
+can guess what are my present intentions.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To resume your travels soon?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Exactly so; and the next time that I quit Venice, to
+return to it no more.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No more?&rdquo; she repeated, eagerly.&nbsp; &ldquo;Oh,
+not so, Flodoardo!&nbsp; Ah, can you leave me?&rdquo;&mdash;She
+stopped, ashamed of her imprudence.&nbsp; &ldquo;Can you leave my
+uncle?&nbsp; I meant to say.&nbsp; You do but jest, I doubt
+not.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;By my honour, lady, I never was more in
+earnest.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And whither, then, do you mean to go?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To Malta, and assist the knights in their attacks upon
+the corsairs of Barbary.&nbsp; Providence, perhaps, may enable me
+to obtain the command of a galley, then will I call my vessel
+&lsquo;Rosabella;&rsquo; then shall the war-cry be still
+&lsquo;Rosabella;&rsquo; that name will render me
+invincible.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! this is a mockery, Count.&nbsp; I have not deserved
+that you should sport with my feelings so cruelly.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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.&nbsp; I am not the happy man whose sight is
+destined to give you pleasure; I will, at least, avoid giving you
+pain.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And you really can resolve to abandon the Doge, whose
+esteem for you is so sincere, whose friendship has always been so
+warm?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Does, then, your happiness require so much?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It does&mdash;much more than I have mentioned,
+infinitely more.&nbsp; But one boon can make me happy; I have
+begged for it on my knees.&rdquo;&nbsp; He caught her hand and
+pressed it eagerly to his lips.&nbsp; &ldquo;I have begged for
+it, Rosabella, and my suit has been rejected.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You are a strange enthusiast,&rdquo; she said with
+difficulty, and scarcely knew what she said, while Flodoardo drew
+her gently nearer to him, and murmured in a supplicating voice,
+&ldquo;Rosabella!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What would you of me?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My happiness!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She gazed upon him for a moment undecided, then hastily drew
+away her hand, and exclaimed, &ldquo;Leave me, this moment, I
+command you.&nbsp; Leave me, for Heaven&rsquo;s sake!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Flodoardo clasped his hands together in despair and
+anguish.&nbsp; He bowed his head in token of obedience.&nbsp; He
+left her with slow steps and a melancholy air, and as he passed
+the threshold, turned to bid her farewell for ever.&nbsp;
+Suddenly she rushed towards him, caught his hand, and pressed it
+to her heart.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Flodoardo,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;I am thine!&rdquo;
+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?&nbsp; The victory was his own, he had heard
+the wished-for sentence pronounced by the lips of
+Rosabella.&nbsp; He raised her from the ground, and placed her on
+a sofa.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s existence, such a
+moment as this occurs but once.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Alas! does there exist a happiness under the moon
+which owes not its charms in some degree to the magic of
+imagination!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You are dear to me, Flodoardo,&rdquo; murmured
+Rosabella, for Camilla and her counsels were quite forgotten;
+&ldquo;oh, you are very, very dear!&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The rustling of
+his garments roused the lovers from their dream of bliss.&nbsp;
+Rosabella started from Flodoardo&rsquo;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.&nbsp; He sighed deeply, cast his eyes towards
+heaven, and in silence turned to leave the apartment.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Stay yet one moment, noble Andreas,&rdquo; cried the
+Florentine.</p>
+<p>The Doge turned, and Flodoardo threw himself at his
+feet.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Young man,&rdquo; said he, in a stern voice, &ldquo;the
+attempt to excuse yourself must be fruitless.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Excuse myself!&rdquo; interrupted Flodoardo, boldly;
+&ldquo;no, my lord, I need no excuses for loving Rosabella;
+&rsquo;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, &rsquo;tis a crime of which Heaven itself will
+absolve me, since it formed Rosabella so worthy to be
+adored.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You seem to lay too much stress on this fantastic
+apology,&rdquo; answered the Doge, contemptuously; &ldquo;at
+least you cannot expect that it should have much weight with
+me.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I say it once more, my lord,&rdquo; resumed Flodoardo,
+while he rose from the ground, &ldquo;that I intend to make no
+apology; I mean not to excuse my love for Rosabella, but to
+request your approbation of that love.&nbsp; Andreas, I adore
+your niece; I demand her for my bride.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Doge started in astonishment at this bold and unexpected
+request.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; continued the Florentine, &ldquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Doge turned from him with a look of displeasure.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, be not incensed with him, dear uncle,&rdquo; said
+Rosabella.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Make your demands,&rdquo; continued Flodoardo, still
+addressing himself to the Doge; &ldquo;say what you wish me to
+do, and what you would have me become, in order to obtain from
+you the hand of Rosabella.&nbsp; Ask what you will, I will look
+on the task, however difficult, as nothing more than sport and
+pastime.&nbsp; 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&mdash;how certain should I be to rescue Venice, and strike
+the ten thousand daggers down.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have served the Republic faithfully and fervently for
+many a long year,&rdquo; answered Andreas, with a bitter smile;
+&ldquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+Answer me, Rosabella; hast thou in truth bestowed thy heart on
+Flodoardo irrevocably?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>One hand of Rosabella&rsquo;s still rested on her
+uncle&rsquo;s shoulder; with the other she clasped
+Flodoardo&rsquo;s and pressed it fondly against her
+heart&mdash;yet Flodoardo seemed still unsatisfied.&nbsp; No
+sooner had the Doge&rsquo;s question struck his ear, than his
+countenance became dejected; and though his hand returned the
+pressure of Rosabella&rsquo;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&rsquo;s arm,
+and for some time paced the apartment slowly, with a countenance
+sad and earnest.&nbsp; Rosabella sank upon a sofa which stood
+near her, and wept.&nbsp; Flodoardo eyed the Doge, and waited for
+his decision with impatience.</p>
+<p>Thus passed some minutes.&nbsp; An awful silence reigned
+through the chamber; Andreas seemed to be labouring with some
+resolution of dreadful importance.&nbsp; The lovers wished, yet
+dreaded, the conclusion of the scene, and with every moment their
+anxiety became more painful.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Flodoardo!&rdquo; at length said the Doge, and suddenly
+stood still in the middle of the chamber.&nbsp; Flodoardo
+advanced with a respectful air.&nbsp; &ldquo;Young man,&rdquo; he
+continued, &ldquo;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.&nbsp; The man to whom I give her must
+be worthy such a gift.&nbsp; She must be the reward of his
+services; nor can he do services so great that such a reward will
+not overpay them.&nbsp; Your claims on the Republic&rsquo;s
+gratitude are as yet but trifling; an opportunity now offers of
+rendering as an essential service.&nbsp; The murderer of Conari,
+Manfrone, and Lomellino&mdash;go, bring him hither!&nbsp; Alive
+or dead, thou must bring to this palace the terrible
+banditti-king, <i>Abellino</i>!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>At this unexpected conclusion of a speech on which his
+happiness or despair depended, Flodoardo started back.&nbsp; The
+colour fled from his cheeks.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My noble lord!&rdquo; he said at length, hesitating,
+&ldquo;you know well that&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I know well,&rdquo; interrupted Andreas, &ldquo;how
+difficult a task I enjoin, when I require the delivery of
+Abellino.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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.&nbsp; I know well,
+Flodoardo, how much I ask; but I know also how much I
+proffer.&nbsp; You seem irresolute?&nbsp; You are silent?&nbsp;
+Flodoardo, I have long watched you with attention.&nbsp; I have
+discovered in you marks of a superior genius, and therefore I am
+induced to make such a demand.&nbsp; If any one is able to cope
+with Abellino, thou art the man.&nbsp; I wait your
+answer.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Flodoardo paced the chamber in silence.&nbsp; Dreadful was the
+enterprise proposed.&nbsp; Woe to him should Abellino discover
+his purpose.&nbsp; But Rosabella was the reward.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Now, then, Flodoardo&mdash;your
+resolution?</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;Should I deliver Abellino into your
+power, do you solemnly swear that Rosabella shall be my
+bride?</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;She shall! and <i>not till then</i>.</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i>.&mdash;Ah!&nbsp; Flodoardo, I fear this
+undertaking will end fatally.&nbsp; Abellino is so crafty, so
+dreadful.&nbsp; Oh! look well to yourself, for should you meet
+with the detested monster, whose dagger&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i> (interrupting her hastily).&mdash;Oh!
+silence, Rosabella&mdash;at least allow me to hope.&nbsp; Noble
+Andreas, give me your hand, and pledge your princely word that,
+Abellino once in your power, nothing shall prevent me from being
+Rosabella&rsquo;s husband.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;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.&nbsp; In
+pledge of which I here give you my princely hand.</p>
+<p>Flodoardo grasped the Doge&rsquo;s hand in silence, and shook
+it thrice.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The clock in the tower of St. Mark&rsquo;s church
+struck five.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Time flies!&rdquo; cried Flodoardo; &ldquo;no more
+delay, then.&nbsp; In four-and-twenty hours will I produce in
+this very palace this dreaded bravo, Abellino.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Andreas shook his head.&nbsp; &ldquo;Young man,&rdquo; said
+he, &ldquo;be less confident in your promises; I shall have more
+faith in your performance.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i> (serious and firm).&mdash;Let things
+terminate as they may, either I will keep my word, or never again
+will cross the threshold of your palace.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s will be done.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Rashness, my lord?&nbsp; 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).&mdash;Yet be not too
+confident of your own strength, I beseech you!&nbsp; Dear
+Flodoardo, my uncle loves you, and his advice is wise!&nbsp;
+Beware of Abellino&rsquo;s dagger!</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;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.&nbsp; Now, then, illustrious
+Prince, I take my leave of you.&nbsp; To-morrow I doubt not to
+convince you that nothing is too much for love to venture.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;Right; to venture: but to achieve?</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;Ah, that must depend&mdash;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.&nbsp; He resumed his
+discourse to Andreas, with a movement of impatience.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Noble Andreas,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;do not make me
+dispirited; rather let me try whether I cannot inspire you with
+more confidence of my success.&nbsp; I must first request you to
+order a splendid entertainment to be prepared.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i> (after eyeing him some time with a look of
+mingled surprise and uncertainty).&mdash;They shall be
+present.</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;I understand, also, that since
+Conari&rsquo;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&mdash;Parozzi, Contarino, and the rest of that
+society.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; If you have no objection, let
+me beg you to invite them also.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;You shall be gratified.</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;One thing more, which had nearly
+escaped my memory.&nbsp; Let no one know the motive of this
+entertainment till the whole company is assembled.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;All this shall be done punctually.</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;I have nothing more to say.&nbsp;
+Noble Andreas, farewell.&nbsp; Rosabella, to-morrow, when the
+clock strikes five, we shall meet again, or never.</p>
+<p>He said, and rushed out of the apartment.&nbsp; Andreas shook
+his head; while Rosabella sank upon her uncle&rsquo;s bosom, and
+wept bitterly.</p>
+<h3>CHAPTER III.<br />
+<span class="GutSmall">THE MIDNIGHT MEETING.</span></h3>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Victory</span>!&rdquo; shouted
+Parozzi, as he rushed into the Cardinal Gonzaga&rsquo;s chamber,
+where the chief conspirators were all assembled; &ldquo;our work
+goes on bravely.&nbsp; Flodoardo returned this morning to Venice,
+and Abellino has already received the required sum.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.&mdash;Flodoardo does not want talents; I had
+rather he should live and join our party.&nbsp; He is seldom off
+his guard&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;Such vagabonds may well be cautious;
+they must not forget themselves, who have so much to conceal from
+others.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Rosabella, as I understand, by no means
+sees this Florentine with unfavourable eyes.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;Oh, wait till to-morrow, and then he may
+make love to the devil and his grandmother, if he likes it.&nbsp;
+Abellino by that time will have wrung his neck round, I warrant
+you.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;It is strange that, in spite of all
+inquiries, I can learn but little at Florence respecting this
+Flodoardo.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Are you all invited to the Doge&rsquo;s
+to-morrow?</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;All of us, without exception.</p>
+<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.&mdash;That is well.&nbsp; It seems that my
+recommendations have obtained some weight with him, since his
+triumvirate has been removed.&nbsp; And in the evening a masked
+ball is to be given.&nbsp; Did not the Doge&rsquo;s chamberlain
+say so?</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;He did.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;I only hope there is no trick in all
+this.&nbsp; If he should have been given a hint of our
+conspiracy!&nbsp; Mercy on us! my teeth chatter at the
+thought.</p>
+<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.&mdash;Absurd!&nbsp; By what means should our
+designs have been made known to him?&nbsp; The thing is
+impossible.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;Impossible?&nbsp; What, when there&rsquo;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?&nbsp; A secret which is
+known to so many, how should it escape his penetration?</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Simpleton! the same thing happens to
+him which happens to betrayed husbands.&nbsp; Everyone can see
+the horns except the man who carries them.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;You are right, friend; everything is
+ready now.&nbsp; The sooner that the blow is struck the
+better.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Then let us decide the game at once;
+be to-morrow the important day.&nbsp; Leave the Doge to my
+disposal.&nbsp; I&rsquo;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>.&mdash;Mark me, friends, we must go armed to
+the Doge&rsquo;s entertainment.</p>
+<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.&mdash;All the members of the College of Ten
+have been particularly invited&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Down with every man of them!</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;Aye, aye!&nbsp; Fine talking, but suppose
+it should turn out to be down with ourselves?</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Thou white-livered wretch!&nbsp; Stay at
+home, then, and take care of your worthless existence.&nbsp; But
+if our attempt succeeds, come not to us to reimburse you for the
+sums which you have already advanced.&nbsp; Not a sequin shall be
+paid you back, depend on&rsquo;t.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;You wrong me, Falieri; if you wish to
+prove my courage, draw your sword and measure it against
+mine.&nbsp; I am as brave as yourself; but, thank Heaven, I am
+not quite so hot-headed.</p>
+<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.&mdash;Nay, even suppose that the event should
+not answer our expectations?&nbsp; Andreas once dead, let the
+populace storm as it pleases; the protection of his Holiness will
+sanction our proceedings.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;The Pope?&nbsp; May we count on his
+protection?</p>
+<p><i>Gonzaga</i> (throwing him a letter).&mdash;Read there,
+unbeliever.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s Chair in Venice.&nbsp; Prithee, Memmo, tease
+us no more with such doubts, but let Contarino&rsquo;s proposal
+be adopted at once.&nbsp; Our confederates must be summoned to
+Parozzi&rsquo;s palace with all diligence, and there furnished
+with such weapons as are necessary.&nbsp; Let the stroke of
+midnight be the signal for Contarino&rsquo;s quitting the
+ball-room, and hastening to seize the arsenal.&nbsp; Salviati,
+who commands there, is in our interest, and will throw open the
+gates at the first summons.</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;The admiral Adorna, as soon as he hears
+the alarm-bell, will immediately lead his people to our
+assistance.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;Oh, our success is certain.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Only let us take care to make the
+confusion as general as possible.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Heaven, I am delighted at finding the
+business at length so near the moment of execution!</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Parozzi, have you distributed the white
+ribbons by which we are to recognise our partisans?</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;That was done some days ago.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Then there is no more necessary to be
+said on the subject.&nbsp; Comrades, fill your goblets.&nbsp; We
+will not meet again together till our work has been
+completed.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;And yet methinks it would not be unwise to
+consider the matter over again coolly.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Pshaw! consideration and prudence have
+nothing to do with a rebellion; despair and rashness in this case
+are better counsellors.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Come, friends! fill, fill,
+I say.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;As to Flodoardo, I look upon him already
+as in his grave; yet before we go to-morrow to the Doge&rsquo;s,
+it will be as well to have a conference with Abellino.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;That care we will leave to you,
+Parozzi, and in the meanwhile here&rsquo;s the health of
+Abellino.</p>
+<p><i>All</i>.&mdash;Abellino!</p>
+<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.&mdash;And success to our enterprise
+to-morrow.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;I&rsquo;ll drink <i>that</i> toast with
+all my heart.</p>
+<p><i>All</i>.&mdash;Success to to-morrow&rsquo;s enterprise!</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i>.&mdash;The wine tastes well, and every face
+looks gay; pass eight-and-forty hours, and shall we look as
+gaily?&nbsp; We separate smiling; shall we smile when two nights
+hence we meet again?&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; Camilla&rsquo;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&rsquo;s whole future happiness.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; She quitted her instrument, and paced the chamber with
+unsteady steps.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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.&nbsp; &ldquo;Blessed Lady!&rdquo; she exclaimed, with
+lifted hands, &ldquo;have mercy on me!&nbsp; Let all to-day end
+well!&rdquo;</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.&nbsp;
+Flodoardo was not yet arrived.</p>
+<p>The assembly was brilliant, the conversation was gay.&nbsp;
+They talked over the politics of the day, and discussed the
+various occurrences of Europe.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The wind roared
+among the waters of the canal, and the vanes of the palace-towers
+creaked shrilly and discordantly.&nbsp; One storm of rain
+followed hard upon another.</p>
+<p>The clock struck four.&nbsp; The cheeks of Rosabella, if
+possible, became paler than before.&nbsp; Andreas whispered
+something to his chamberlain.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The young courtiers broke off their love-speeches
+abruptly, and the ladies stopped in their criticisms upon the
+last new fashions.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+Every eye was fixed upon him.&nbsp; The hearts of the
+conspirators beat painfully.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Be not surprised, my friends,&rdquo; said Andreas,
+&ldquo;at these unusual precautions; they relate to nothing which
+need interfere with the pleasures of this society.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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&mdash;before another
+hour expires, perhaps this outcast of hell may stand before you
+in this very saloon.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>All</i> (astonished).&mdash;Abellino?&nbsp; What, the bravo
+Abellino?</p>
+<p><i>Gonzaga</i>.&mdash;Of his own accord!</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;No, not of his own accord, in
+truth.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;The engagement will be difficult to
+fulfil.&nbsp; I doubt much Flodoardo&rsquo;s keeping his
+promise.</p>
+<p><i>Another</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;Be that my task.&nbsp; Flodoardo has
+demanded my niece in marriage if he performs his promise.&nbsp;
+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).&mdash;Parozzi, how will this
+end?</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;As I live, the very idea makes me shake as
+if I had a fever.</p>
+<p><i>Parozzi</i> (smiling contemptuously).&mdash;It&rsquo;s very
+likely that Abellino should suffer himself to be caught!</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Pray inform me, signors, have any of
+you ever met this Abellino face to face?</p>
+<p><i>Several Noblemen at once</i>.&mdash;Not I.&nbsp; Never.</p>
+<p><i>A Senator</i>.&mdash;He is a kind of spectre, who only
+appears now and then, when he is least expected and desired.</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i>.&mdash;I saw him once; never again shall I
+forget the monster.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;And my interview with him is too well
+known to make it needful for me to relate it.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Gracious Heaven!&rdquo; screamed several of the ladies,
+&ldquo;you don&rsquo;t say so?&nbsp; What, strangle us in this
+very chamber?&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;The principal point is, whether
+Flodoardo will get the better of <i>him</i>, or <i>he</i> of
+Flodoardo.&nbsp; Now I would lay a heavy wager that the
+Florentine will return without having finished the business.</p>
+<p><i>A Senator</i>.&mdash;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.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;I think with you, signor.&nbsp;
+Never was I so struck with a man at first sight as I was with
+Flodoardo.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;A thousand sequins on Abellino&rsquo;s
+not being taken, unless death should have taken him first.</p>
+<p><i>The First Senator</i>.&mdash;A thousand sequins on
+Flodoardo seizing him&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;And delivering him up to me, either
+alive or dead.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Illustrious signors, you are witnesses
+of the wager.&nbsp; My Lord Vitalba, there is my hand on
+it.&nbsp; A thousand sequins!</p>
+<p><i>The Senator</i>.&mdash;Done.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i> (smiling).&mdash;Many thanks for your gold,
+signor.&nbsp; I look on it as already in my purse.&nbsp;
+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>.&mdash;May I request your Highness to inform me
+whether Flodoardo is attended by the sbirri?</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;No, he is alone.&nbsp; 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).&mdash;I wish you joy of your thousand sequins,
+signor.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i> (bowing respectfully).&mdash;Since your
+Excellency prophesies it I can no longer doubt my success.</p>
+<p><i>Memmo</i>.&mdash;I begin to recover myself!&nbsp; Well,
+well! let us see the end.</p>
+<p>Three-and-twenty hours had elapsed since Flodoardo had entered
+into the rash engagement.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s being captured might but secure the
+general safety of the Republic.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hark!&rdquo; cried Rosabella, &ldquo;the clock strikes
+five!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>All listened to the chimes in the tower of St. Mark&rsquo;s
+Church, and trembled as they counted the strokes.&nbsp; Had not
+Camilla supported her, Rosabella would have sank upon the
+ground.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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.&nbsp; She struggled for a while to
+conceal her emotions, but the effort was too much for her.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; She started from the sofa, extended her arms
+towards the radiant orb, and exclaimed, while a smile of hope
+played round her lips, &ldquo;God is merciful; God will have
+mercy on me.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;Was it at five o&rsquo;clock that
+Flodoardo engaged to produce Abellino?&nbsp; It is now a full
+hour beyond his time.</p>
+<p><i>The Senator Vitalba</i>.&mdash;Let him only produce him at
+last, and he may be a month beyond his time if he choose.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;Hark!&nbsp; No.&nbsp; Silence!
+silence!&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Holy Virgin!&rdquo; exclaimed Memmo, &ldquo;I am afraid
+that&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Be silent, signor!&rdquo; interrupted Contarino,
+sternly; &ldquo;there is nothing to be afraid of.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Illustrious Venetians!&rdquo;&mdash;it was thus that
+Flodoardo broke silence, and he spoke with the commanding tone of
+a hero&mdash;&ldquo;I conclude that his Highness has already made
+known to you the object of your being thus assembled.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i> (examining his countenance with extreme
+anxiety).&mdash;Flodoardo, have you succeeded?&nbsp; Is Abellino
+your prisoner?</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;If Abellino is my prisoner, shall
+Rosabella be my bride?</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;Bring me Abellino, alive or dead, and
+she is yours.&nbsp; I swear it beyond the power of retracting,
+and also that her dowry shall be royal!</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;Illustrious Venetians, ye have heard
+the Doge&rsquo;s oath?</p>
+<p><i>All</i>.&mdash;We are your witnesses.</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i> (advancing a few paces with a bold air, and
+speaking in a firm voice).&mdash;Well, then, Abellino is in my
+power&mdash;is in <i>yours</i>.</p>
+<p><i>All</i> (in confusion and a kind of uproar).&mdash;In
+ours?&nbsp; Merciful heaven!&nbsp; Where is he?&nbsp;
+Abellino!</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;Is he dead or living?</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;He still lives.</p>
+<p><i>Gonzaga</i> (hastily).&mdash;He lives?</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i> (bowing to the Cardinal
+respectfully).&mdash;He still lives, signor.</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i> (pressing Camilla to her bosom).&nbsp; Didst
+thou hear that, Camilla?&nbsp; Didst thou hear it?&nbsp; The
+villain still lives.&nbsp; Not one drop of blood has stained the
+innocent hand of Flodoardo.</p>
+<p><i>The Senator Vitalba</i>.&mdash;Signor Contarino, I have won
+a thousand sequins of you.</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i>.&mdash;So it should seem, signor.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;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>.&mdash;And permit me, noble Florentine, to
+thank you for this heroic act in the name of the Senate of
+Venice.&nbsp; 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).&mdash;There stands the only reward for which I
+wish.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i> (joyfully).&mdash;And that reward is your
+own.&nbsp; But where have you left the bloodhound?&nbsp; Conduct
+him hither, my son, and let me look at him once more.&nbsp; When
+I last saw him, he had the insolence to tell me, &ldquo;Doge, I
+am your equal.&nbsp; This narrow chamber now holds the two
+greatest men in Venice.&rdquo;&nbsp; Now, then, let me see how
+this other great man looks in captivity.</p>
+<p><i>Two or three Senators</i>.&mdash;Where is he?&nbsp; Bring
+him hither.</p>
+<p>Several of the ladies screamed at hearing this proposal.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;For heaven&rsquo;s sake,&rdquo; cried they, &ldquo;keep
+the monster away from us!&nbsp; I shall be frightened out of my
+senses if he comes here.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Noble ladies,&rdquo; said Flodoardo, with a smile,
+expressing rather sorrow than joy, &ldquo;you have nothing to
+apprehend.&nbsp; Abellino shall do you no harm; but he needs must
+come hither to claim <i>The Bravo&rsquo;s Bride</i>.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+And he pointed to Rosabella.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, my best friend,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;how
+shall I express my thanks to you for having thus put an end to my
+terrors?&nbsp; I shall tremble no more at hearing Abellino
+named.&nbsp; Rosabella shall now be called the Bravo&rsquo;s
+Bride no longer.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Falieri</i>.&mdash;Is Abellino already in this palace?</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;He is.</p>
+<p><i>Vitalba</i>.&mdash;Then why do you not produce him?&nbsp;
+Why do you trifle so long with our impatience?</p>
+<p><i>Flodoardo</i>.&mdash;Be patient.&nbsp; It&rsquo;s now time
+that the play should begin.&nbsp; Be seated, noble Andreas.&nbsp;
+Let all the rest arrange themselves behind the Doge.&nbsp;
+Abellino&rsquo;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.&nbsp; Every heart beat anxiously; but as to the
+conspirators, while expecting Abellino&rsquo;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.&nbsp;
+The spectators stood around in various groups, all hushed and
+solemn, as if they were waiting to receive their final
+judgment.&nbsp; The lovely Rosabella, with all the security of
+angels whose innocence have nothing to fear, reclined her head on
+Camilla&rsquo;s shoulder and gazed on her heroic lover with looks
+of adoration.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;And now, then,&rdquo; said Flodoardo, &ldquo;prepare
+yourselves, for this terrible Abellino shall immediately appear
+before you.&nbsp; Do not tremble; he shall do no one
+harm.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>With these words he turned away from the company, advanced
+towards the folding-doors.&nbsp; He paused for a few moments, and
+concealed his face in his cloak.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Abellino!&rdquo; cried he at length, raising his head,
+and extending his arm towards the door.&nbsp; At that name all
+who heard it shuddered involuntarily, and Rosabella advanced
+unconsciously a few steps towards her lover.&nbsp; She trembled
+more for Flodoardo than herself.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Abellino!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Stay, Flodoardo!&rdquo; she cried, rushing towards him,
+and&mdash;Ha!&nbsp; Flodoardo was gone, and there, in his place,
+stood Abellino, and shouted out, &ldquo;Ho! ho!&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; Rosabella sank fainting at
+the bravo&rsquo;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&rsquo;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.&nbsp; He
+gazed around him for a few moments in silence, and then
+approached the stupefied Andreas.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ho! ho!&rdquo; he roared in a voice like thunder,
+&ldquo;you wish to see the bravo Abellino?&nbsp; Doge of Venice,
+here he stands, and is come to claim his bride.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Andreas gazed with looks of horror on this model for demons,
+and at length stammered out with difficulty, &ldquo;It cannot be
+real; I must surely be the sport of some terrible
+dream.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Without there, guards!&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s bosom.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The first,&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;who calls for the
+guard, or advances one step from the place on which he stands,
+expires that moment.&nbsp; Fools!&nbsp; 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?&nbsp; No; I am content to be your prisoner, but not
+through compulsion!&nbsp; I am content to be your prisoner; and
+it was with that intent that I came hither.&nbsp; No mortal
+should have the glory of seizing Abellino.&nbsp; If justice
+required him to be delivered up, it was necessary that he should
+be delivered up by himself!&nbsp; 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?&nbsp;
+No, by heaven, no!&nbsp; Abellino was no such common
+villain.&nbsp; It&rsquo;s true I was a bravo; but the motives
+which induced me to become one were great and
+striking.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i> (clasping his hands together).&mdash;Almighty
+God! can all this be possible?</p>
+<p>An awful silence again reigned through the saloon.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Oh, God of mercy!&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;he is
+still there.&nbsp; Methought, too, that Flodoardo&mdash;.&nbsp;
+No, no; it could not be!&nbsp; I was deceived by
+witchcraft.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Abellino advanced towards her, and attempted to raise
+her.&nbsp; She shrunk from his touch with horror.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, Rosabella,&rdquo; said the bravo, in an altered
+voice, &ldquo;what you saw was no illusion.&nbsp; Your favoured
+Flodoardo is no other than Abellino the bravo.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is false!&rdquo; interrupted Rosabella, starting
+from the ground in despair, and throwing herself for refuge on
+Camilla&rsquo;s bosom.&nbsp; &ldquo;Monster! thou canst not be
+Flodoardo! such a fiend can never have been such a seraph.&nbsp;
+Flodoardo&rsquo;s actions were good and glorious as a
+demi-god&rsquo;s!&nbsp; &rsquo;Twas of him that I learned to love
+good and glorious actions, and &rsquo;twas he who encouraged me
+to attempt them myself; his heart was pure from all mean
+passions, and capable of conceiving all great designs.&nbsp;
+Never did he scruple, in the cause of virtue, to endure fatigue
+and pain, and to dry up the tears of suffering
+innocence&mdash;that was Flodoardo&rsquo;s proudest
+triumph!&nbsp; Flodoardo and thou&mdash;!&nbsp; Wretch, whom many
+a bleeding ghost has long since accused before the throne of
+heaven, darest thou to profane the name of Flodoardo!&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i> (proud and earnest).&mdash;Rosabella, wilt
+thou forsake me?&nbsp; Wilt thou retract thy promise?&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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>.&mdash;Mark me, Rosabella!&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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 &ldquo;Dreadful!
+dreadful!&rdquo; escaped from his lips, and he wrung his hands in
+agony.&nbsp; Abellino approached Rosabella, and said in the tone
+of supplication: &ldquo;Rosabella, wilt thou break thy
+promise?&nbsp; Am I no longer dear to thee?&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Rosabella,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;art thou still
+mine?&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i>.&mdash;Flodoardo, oh! that I had never loved,
+had never seen thee!</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;Rosabella wilt thou still be the bride
+of Flodoardo? wilt thou be &ldquo;the Bravo&rsquo;s
+Bride?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Love struggled with abhorrence in Rosabella&rsquo;s bosom, and
+painful was the contest.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;Hear me, beloved one!&nbsp; It was for
+thee that I have discovered myself&mdash;that I have delivered
+myself into the hands of justice.&nbsp; For thee&mdash;oh, what
+would I not do for thee!&nbsp; Rosabella, I wait but to hear one
+syllable from your lips; speak but a decisive yes or no, and all
+is ended.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; She turned from him hastily, threw
+herself into Camilla&rsquo;s arms, and exclaimed, &ldquo;God
+forgive you, man, for torturing me so cruelly!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Doge had by this time recovered from his stupor.&nbsp; He
+started from his chair, threats flashed from his eyes, and his
+lips trembled with passion.&nbsp; He rushed towards Abellino; but
+the senators threw themselves in his passage, and held him back
+by force.&nbsp; In the meanwhile the bravo advanced towards him
+with the most insolent composure, and requested him to calm his
+agitation.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Doge of Venice,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;will you keep
+your promise?&nbsp; That you gave it to me, these noble lords and
+ladies can testify.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Andreas.&mdash;Monster! miscreant!&nbsp; Oh! how artfully has
+this plan been laid to ensnare me!&nbsp; Tell me, Venetians, to
+<i>such</i> a creditor am I obliged to discharge my fearful
+debt?&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s
+niece will easily obtain an absolution for his crimes.&nbsp; Tell
+me, Venetians, ought I to keep my word with this miscreant?</p>
+<p><i>All the Senators</i>.&mdash;No, no, by no means.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i> (with solemnity).&mdash;If you have once
+pledged your word, you ought to keep it, though given to the
+Prince of Darkness.&nbsp; Oh, fie, fie!&nbsp; Abellino, how
+shamefully hast thou been deceived in thy reckoning.&nbsp; I
+thought I had to do with men of honour.&nbsp; Oh! how grossly
+have I been mistaken.&nbsp; (In a terrible voice.)&mdash;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).&mdash;Give up your
+arms.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;And you will really withhold from me my
+just reward?&nbsp; Shall it be in vain that I delivered Abellino
+into your power?</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i>.&mdash;It was to the brave Flodoardo that I
+promised Rosabella.&nbsp; I never entered into any engagement
+with the murderer Abellino.&nbsp; Let Flodoardo claim my niece,
+and she is his; but Abellino can have no claim to her.&nbsp;
+Again I say lay down your arms.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i> (laughing wildly).&mdash;The murderer
+Abellino, say you?&nbsp; Ho! ho!&nbsp; 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).&mdash;What dreadful
+blasphemy.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;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.&nbsp; Say a word in my
+favour, then, good Lord Cardinal.</p>
+<p><i>Gonzaga</i> (angrily, and with imperious
+dignity).&mdash;Address not thyself to <i>me</i>,
+miscreant.&nbsp; What canst thou and I have to do together?&nbsp;
+Venerable Andreas, delay no longer; let the guards be called
+in.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;What?&nbsp; Is there then no hope for
+me?&nbsp; Does no one feel compassion for the wretched
+Abellino?&nbsp; What! <i>no one</i>?&mdash;(a pause)&mdash;All
+are silent?&mdash;<i>all</i>!&nbsp; &rsquo;Tis enough.&nbsp; Then
+my fate is decided&mdash;call in your guards.</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i> (with a scream of agony, springing forward,
+and falling at the feet of the Doge).&mdash;Mercy, mercy!&nbsp;
+Pardon him&mdash;pardon <i>Abellino</i>!</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i> (in rapture).&mdash;Sayest thou so?&nbsp; Ho!
+ho! then an angel prays for Abellino in his last moments.</p>
+<p><i>Rosabella</i> (clasping the Doge&rsquo;s knees).&mdash;Have
+mercy on him, my friend, my father, he is a sinner; but leave him
+to the justice of Heaven.&nbsp; He is a sinner, but oh, Rosabella
+loves him still.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i> (pushing her away with
+indignation).&mdash;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.&nbsp;
+Rosabella caught the Doge&rsquo;s hand, as he turned to leave
+her, kissed it twice, and said, &ldquo;If you have no mercy on
+<i>him</i>, then have none on <i>me</i>.&nbsp; The sentence which
+you pass on Abellino will be mine; &rsquo;tis for my own life
+that I plead as well as Abellino&rsquo;s.&nbsp; Father, dear
+father, reject not my suit, but spare him.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i> (in an angry and decided tone).&mdash;Abellino
+dies.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;And can you look on with dry eyes while
+that innocent dove bleeds at your feet?&nbsp; Go, barbarian; you
+never loved Rosabella as she deserved.&nbsp; Now she is yours no
+longer.&nbsp; She is mine, she is Abellino&rsquo;s.</p>
+<p>He raised her from the ground, and pressed her pale lips
+against his own.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Rosabella, thou art mine; death alone can part
+us.&nbsp; Thou lovest me as I <i>would</i> be loved; I am blest
+whate&rsquo;er may happen, and can now set fortune at
+defiance.&nbsp; To business, then.&rdquo;</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&mdash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Venetians, you are determined to deliver me up to the
+axe of justice; there is for me no hope of mercy.&nbsp;
+&rsquo;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>.&nbsp; Now mark me, you see
+in me the murderer of Conari, the murderer of Paolo Manfrone, the
+murderer of Lomellino.&nbsp; I deny it not.&nbsp; But would you
+know the illustrious persons who paid me for the use of my
+dagger?&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Guard them well,&rdquo; said Abellino, in a terrible
+voice to the sentinels; &ldquo;you have your orders.&nbsp; Noble
+Venetians, look on these villains; it is to them that you are
+indebted for the loss of your three citizens.&nbsp; I accuse of
+those murders one, two, three, four, and my good Lord Cardinal
+there has the honour to be the fifth.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;What can all this mean?&rdquo; asked the senators of
+each other, in the utmost surprise and confusion.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This is all a shameful artifice,&rdquo; the Cardinal at
+length contrived to say; &ldquo;the villain, perceiving that he
+has no chance of escaping punishment, is willing, out of mere
+resentment, to involve us in his destruction.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><i>Contarino</i> (recovering himself).&mdash;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).&mdash;Be silent.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Be silent,
+for defence were vain.</p>
+<p><i>Andreas</i> (in astonishment)&mdash;Abellino, what is the
+meaning of all this?</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;Neither more nor less than that
+Abellino has discovered and defeated a conspiracy against the
+constitution of Venice and the life of its Doge!&nbsp; 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).&mdash;Noble Venetians, you
+are silent under this heavy charge.</p>
+<p><i>Abellino</i>.&mdash;They are wise, for no defence can now
+avail them.&nbsp; Their troops are already disarmed, and lodged
+in separate dungeons of the State prison; visit them there, and
+you will learn more.&nbsp; 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>.&nbsp; At the hazard of my life have I preserved the
+State from ruin.&nbsp; Disguised as a bravo, I dared to enter the
+assembly of those ruthless villains, whose daggers laid Venice
+waste.&nbsp; I have endured for your sakes storm, and rain, and
+frost, and heat; I have watched for your safety while you were
+sleeping.&nbsp; Venice owes to my care her constitution and your
+lives; and yet are my services deserving of no reward?&nbsp; All
+this have I done for Rosabella of Corfu, and yet will you
+withhold from me my promised bride?&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Men!
+men! and yet will you send me to the scaffold?</p>
+<p>Look on this list!&nbsp; 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!&nbsp; Read you not
+in every feature that they are already condemned by heaven and
+their own conscience?&nbsp; Does a single mouth unclose itself in
+exculpation?&nbsp; Does a single movement of the head give the
+lie to my charge?&nbsp; Yet the truth of what I have advanced
+shall be made still more evident.</p>
+<p>He turned himself to the conspirators</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mark me!&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;the first among you who
+acknowledges the truth shall receive a free pardon.&nbsp; I swear
+it, I, the bravo Abellino!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The conspirators remained silent.&nbsp; Suddenly Memmo started
+forward and threw himself trembling at the Doge&rsquo;s feet.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Venetians,&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;Abellino has
+told you true.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis false, &rsquo;tis false!&rdquo; exclaimed
+the accused altogether.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Silence!&rdquo; cried Abellino, in a voice of thunder,
+while the indignation which flamed in every feature struck terror
+into his hearers: &ldquo;Silence, I say, and hear me, or rather
+hear the ghosts of your victims.&nbsp; Appear, appear!&rdquo;
+cried this dreadful man, in a tone still louder:
+&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis time!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Again he sounded his whistle.&nbsp; The folding doors were
+thrown open, and there stood the Doge&rsquo;s much lamented
+friends&mdash;Conari, Lomellino, and Manfrone.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We are betrayed!&rdquo; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; These four
+men, who had valued each other in the first dawn of <i>youth</i>,
+who had fought by each other&rsquo;s sides in <i>manhood</i>,
+were now assembled in <i>age</i>, and valued each other more than
+ever.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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, &ldquo;Abellino, then, is not a
+murderer!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>At length they began to recollect themselves they looked round
+them&mdash;and the first words which broke from every lip
+were&mdash;&ldquo;Hail, saviour of Venice!&rdquo;&mdash;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>&ldquo;Abellino!&rdquo; said Andreas advancing to the bravo,
+and extending his hand towards him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am not Abellino,&rdquo; replied he, smiling, while he
+pressed the Doge&rsquo;s hand respectfully to his lips
+&ldquo;neither am I Flodoardo of Florence.&nbsp; I am by birth a
+Neapolitan, and by name Rosalvo.&nbsp; The death of my inveterate
+enemy the Prince of Monaldeschi makes it no longer necessary to
+conceal who I really am.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Monaldeschi?&rdquo; repeated Andreas, with a look of
+anxiety.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Fear not,&rdquo; continued Rosalvo; &ldquo;Monaldeschi,
+it is true, fell by my hand, but fell in honourable combat.&nbsp;
+The blood which stained his sword flowed from my veins, and in
+his last moments conscience asserted her empire in his
+bosom.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; After various wanderings chance led me to
+Venice.&nbsp; My appearance was so much altered, that I dreaded
+not discovery, but I dreaded (and with reason) perishing in your
+streets with hunger.&nbsp; In this situation accident brought me
+acquainted with the banditti, by whom Venice was then
+infested.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; I was successful.&nbsp; I delivered the banditti
+up to justice, and stabbed their captain in Rosabella&rsquo;s
+sight.&nbsp; I was now the only bravo in Venice.&nbsp; Every
+scoundrel was obliged to have recourse to me.&nbsp; I discovered
+the plans of the conspirators, and now you know them also.&nbsp;
+I found that the deaths of the Doge&rsquo;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.&nbsp; No sooner had my plan
+been formed than I imparted it to Lomellino.&nbsp; He, and he
+only, was my confidant in this business.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s very bed-chamber.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s
+adventure permitted me to set them once more at liberty.&nbsp;
+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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To the scaffold!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Oh, Abellino,&rdquo; exclaimed Andreas, while he wiped
+away a tear, &ldquo;I would gladly give my ducal bonnet to be
+such a bravo as thou hast been.&nbsp; &lsquo;Doge,&rsquo; did
+thou once say to me, &lsquo;thou and I are the two greatest men
+in Venice,&rsquo; but oh, how much greater is the bravo than the
+Doge!&nbsp; Rosabella is that jewel, than which I have nothing in
+the world more precious; Rosabella is dearer to me than an
+emperor&rsquo;s crown; Rosabella is thine.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Abellino,&rdquo; said Rosabella, and extended her hand
+to the handsome Bravo.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Triumph!&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;Rosabella is the
+Bravo&rsquo;s Bride,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s death to
+terrify Andreas still further, and of Parozzi&rsquo;s conspiracy
+to obtain Rosabella&rsquo;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&rsquo;s history, I must ask two
+questions&mdash;First&mdash;do my readers like the manner in
+which I relate adventures?</p>
+<p>Secondly&mdash;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.&nbsp; 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>
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+
+
+
+
+
+This etext was prepared by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
+from the 1886 Cassell & Company edition edition.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BRAVO OF VENICE--A ROMANCE
+
+by M. G. Lewis
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+
+Matthew Gregory Lewis, who professed to have translated this romance
+out of the German, very much, I believe, as Horace Walpole professed
+to have taken The Castle of Otranto 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, The East Indian,
+afterwards played for Mrs. Jordan's benefit and repeated with great
+success, and also a novel, never published, called The Effusions of
+Sensibility, which was a burlesque upon the sentimental school.  He
+wrote also what he called "a romance in the style of The Castle of
+Otranto," which appeared afterwards as the play of The Castle
+Spectre.
+
+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 Werter, 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 attache to the British Embassy.  He had begun to write his
+novel of The Monk, had flagged, but was spurred on at the Hague by a
+reading of Mrs. Radcliffe's Mysteries of Udolpho, 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."
+
+The Monk 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 The Monk 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 The Monk 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 The Castle Spectre was produced
+in the year after The Monk, and it ran sixty nights.  He translated
+next Schiller's Kabale und Liebe as The Minister, but it was not
+acted till it appeared, with little success, some years afterwards
+at Covent Garden as The Harper's Daughter.  He translated from
+Kotzebue, under the name of Rolla, the drama superseded by
+Sheridan's version of the same work as Pizarro.  Then came the
+acting, in 1799, of his comedy written in boyhood, The East Indian.
+Then came, in the same year, his first opera, Adelmorn the Outlaw;
+then a tragedy, Alfonso, King of Castile.  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
+The Castle Spectre) "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 Alfonso."
+
+To that time in Lewis's life belongs this book, The Bravo of Venice;
+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 Rugantino.
+
+H.M.
+
+
+
+THE BRAVO OF VENICE.
+
+
+
+BOOK THE FIRST.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I:  VENICE.
+
+
+
+It 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.
+
+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 -
+
+"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 ME 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_--
+while _I_--Oh! dreadful is the destiny of which I am made the
+sport!"
+
+He began to examine for the twentieth time the pockets of his
+tattered garments.
+
+"No! not one paolo, by heavens!--and I hunger almost to death."
+
+He unsheathed his sword; he waved it in the moonshine, and sighed,
+as he marked the glittering of the steel.
+
+"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."
+
+He wiped away a drop which hung upon his eyelid.
+
+"Pshaw! 'twas not a tear; the night wind is sharp and bitter, and
+makes the eyes water; but as for TEARS--Absurd! my weeping days are
+over."
+
+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.
+
+"Right," he said to himself; "were I to sink under the weight of my
+destiny, I should be myself no longer."
+
+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.
+
+"'Tis the hand of God which hath guided him hither--yes--I'll--I'll
+BEG--better to play the beggar in Venice than the villain in Naples;
+for the beggar's heart may beat nobly, though covered with rags."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+The stranger turned hastily towards them; the bravo started up and
+fled; the beggar smiled.
+
+"How now?" cried the stranger; "what does all this mean?"
+
+"Oh, 'tis a mere jest, signor, which has only preserved your life."
+
+"What? my life?  How so?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+The wretched starving beggar stood like one petrified, and gazed on
+the taunting stranger.
+
+"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."
+
+"Begone this instant, I say, or by Heaven--"
+
+The unfeeling man here drew out a concealed pistol, and pointed it
+at his preserver.
+
+"Merciful Heaven! and is it thus that services are acknowledged in
+Venice?"
+
+"The watch is at no great distance, I need only raise my voice and--
+"
+
+"Hell and confusion! do you take me for a robber, then?"
+
+"Make no noise, I tell you.  Be quiet--you had better."
+
+"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."
+
+He paused for a moment, then continuing in a dreadful voice, "And
+when," said he, "thou, Buonarotti, shalt hereafter hear the name of
+ABELLINO--TREMBLE!"
+
+Abellino turned away, and left the hard-hearted Venetian.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II:  THE BANDITTI.
+
+
+
+And 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.
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+He paused, folded his arms, and sighed.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"It is of me that they are in search," said Abellino; then advanced
+a few steps, and whistled.
+
+The ruffians stood still; they whispered together, and seemed to be
+undecided.
+
+Abellino whistled a second time.
+
+"'Tis he," he could hear one of them say distinctly, and in a moment
+after they advanced slowly towards him.
+
+Abellino kept his place, but unsheathed his sword.  The three
+unknown (they were masked) stopped a few paces from him.
+
+"How now, fellow!" quoth one of them; "what is the matter?  Why
+stand you on your guard?"
+
+Abellino.--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.
+
+The First Ruffian.--Was not your whistling addressed to us?
+
+Abellino.--It was.
+
+A Ruffian.--And what would you with us?
+
+Abellino.--Hear me!  I am a miserable wretch, and starving; give me
+an alms out of your booty!
+
+A Ruffian.--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.
+
+Abellino.--Or else give me fifty sequins, and I'll bind myself to
+your service till I shall have worked out my debt.
+
+A Ruffian.--Aye? and pray, then, who may you be?
+
+Abellino.--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.
+
+A Ruffian.--Why, then, did you strike me down, even now?
+
+Abellino.--In the hope of being paid for it; but though I saved his
+life, the scoundrel gave me not a single ducat.
+
+A Ruffian.--No?  So much the better.  But hark ye, comrade, are you
+sincere?
+
+Abellino.--Despair never lies.
+
+A Ruffian.--Slave, shouldst thou be a traitor -
+
+Abellino.--My heart would be within reach of your hands, and your
+daggers would be as sharp as now.
+
+The three dangerous companions again whispered among themselves for
+a few moments, after which they returned their daggers into the
+sheath.
+
+"Come on, then," said one of them, "follow us to our home.  It were
+unwise to talk over certain matters in the open streets."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III:  THE TRIAL OF STRENGTH.
+
+
+
+Scarcely 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.
+
+"Now, then," cried one of these, who had conducted Abellino to this
+respectable society, "let us see what you are like."
+
+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.
+
+"Lord, forgive me my sins!" screamed Cinthia; "out upon him! what an
+ugly hound it is!"
+
+She turned hastily round, and hid her face with her hands.  Dreadful
+was the look with which Abellino repaid her compliment.
+
+"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?"
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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:-
+
+"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."
+
+Abellino smiled, or rather grinned, and murmured hoarsely--"I am
+starving."
+
+"Answer, fellow!  Dost thou mean honestly by us?"
+
+"That must the event decide."
+
+"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!"
+
+"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."
+
+Cinthia now covered a small table with her best provisions, and
+filled several silver goblets with delicious wine.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"I know not; try me."
+
+Cinthia removed the table.
+
+"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?"
+
+The banditti burst into a loud fit of laughter.
+
+"Now, then," cried Abellino, fiercely; "now, then, for the trial.
+Why come you not on?"
+
+"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?"
+
+Abellino answered him by a scornful laugh.  Matteo became furious.
+His companions shouted aloud, and clapped their hands.
+
+"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.
+
+Three minutes elapsed ere the subdued bravoes could recover
+themselves.  Loudly shouted Abellino, while the astonished Cinthia
+gazed and trembled at the terrible exhibition.
+
+"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."
+
+"He must have made a compact with the devil!" grumbled Thomaso, and
+forced his dislocated wrist back into its socket.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV:  THE DAGGERS.
+
+
+
+Abellino, 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.
+
+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, WITH guards
+and WITHOUT 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.
+
+One day he summoned Abellino to attend him in his armoury.
+
+"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."
+
+Abellino received the instruments of death, but his hand shook as it
+grasped them.
+
+"Possessed of such unfailing weapons, of what immense sums must your
+robberies have made you master!"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"By the house at Loretto, I think you have a mind to moralise,
+Abellino?"
+
+"Hark ye, Matteo, only one question.  At the Day of Judgment, which
+think you will hold his head highest, the thief or the assassin?"
+
+"Ha! ha! ha!"
+
+"Think not that Abellino speaks thus from want of resolution.  Speak
+but the word, and I murder half the senators of Venice; but still--"
+
+"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 THEY 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."
+
+Abellino laughed.  Matteo proceeded with increased animation -
+
+"Perhaps you will tell me that your trade is DISHONOURABLE!  And
+what, then, is the thing called HONOUR!   '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, THAT indeed
+brings REAL 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 GOOD things which she has done, or BAD 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?"
+
+"By my life, 'tis a pity, Matteo, that you should be a bravo; the
+schools have lost an excellent teacher of philosophy."
+
+"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."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V:  SOLITUDE.
+
+
+
+Abellino 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.
+
+This want of occupation was irksome to him in the extreme; he panted
+for action, and was condemned to indolence.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+He was silent, and abandoned himself to the melancholy recollections
+which thronged before his mind's eye.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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!"
+
+He was again silent; he bit his lips in fury, raised one emaciated
+hand to heaven, and struck his forehead violently with the other.
+
+"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."
+
+Suddenly he sprang from the ground after a long silence; his eyes
+sparkled, his countenance was changed; he drew his breath easier.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"I will enter into no compact against human nature with five
+miserable cut-throats.  ALONE 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 FIVE banditti; ONE and ONE
+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."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI:  ROSABELLA, THE DOGE'S LOVELY NIECE.
+
+
+
+"Hark, comrade," said Matteo the next morning to Abellino; "to-day
+thou shalt make thy first step in our profession."
+
+"To-day!" hoarsely murmured Abellino; "and on whom am I to show my
+skill?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Hum!" said Abellino, and measured Matteo with his eye from head to
+foot.
+
+"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?"
+
+"And you will accompany me?"
+
+"I will be a spectator of your first adventure; 'tis thus I deal by
+every one."
+
+"And how many inches deep must I plunge my dagger?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Thither he immediately bent his course; and hard at his heels
+followed Matteo.
+
+Alone, and in the most retired arbour, sat Rosabella of Corfu, the
+fairest maid in Venice.
+
+Abellino drew near the arbour; he tottered, as he passed its
+entrance, like one oppressed with sudden faintness, and attracted
+Rosabella's attention.
+
+"Alas, alas!" cried he, "is there no one at hand who will take
+compassion on the infirmity of a poor old man?"
+
+The Doge's fair niece quitted the arbour hastily, and flew to give
+assistance to the sufferer.
+
+"What ails you, my good father?" she inquired in a melodious voice,
+and with a look of benevolent anxiety.
+
+Abellino pointed towards the arbour; Rosabella led him in, and
+placed him on a seat of turf.
+
+"God reward you, lady," stammered Abellino, faintly.  He raised his
+eyes; they met Rosabella's, and a blush crimsoned her pale cheeks.
+
+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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"The same, my good old man."
+
+"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."
+
+The maiden started back; the colour fled from her cheeks.
+
+"Do you wish to behold your assassin?  You shall not die, but if you
+value your life, be silent."
+
+Rosabella knew not what to think; the presence of the old man
+terrified her.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"For the love of heaven!" she cried, "release me.  Let me fly!"
+
+"Lady, fear nothing; _I_ protect you."  This said, Abellino placed a
+whistle at his lips, and blew it shrilly.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Now did Matteo's murderer look again towards the arbour, and beheld
+Rosabella half senseless, as she lay on the bank of turf.
+
+"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."
+
+Rosabella could not speak.  Trembling, she stretched her arms
+towards him, grasped his hand, and pressed it to her lips in silent
+gratitude.
+
+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.
+
+"By Him who made me," cried he at length, "oh! thou art fair,
+Rosabella; Valeria was not fairer."
+
+He bowed himself down to her, and imprinted a burning kiss on the
+pale cheeks of the beauty.
+
+"Leave me, thou dreadful man," she stammered in terror; "oh, leave
+me."
+
+"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--'TWAS THE BRAVO, ABELLINO," he said, and rushed out of the
+arbour.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII:  THE BRAVO'S BRIDE.
+
+
+
+It 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 MUST 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."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII:  THE CONSPIRACY.
+
+
+
+"Confusion!" 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--?"
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+Memmo.--By my soul, I speak but the plain matter of fact.  Nay, only
+ask Falieri; he can tell you more.
+
+Falieri.--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.
+
+Parozzi.--And I tell you again that Lomellino knows not what he
+says.
+
+Contarino.--Well, well, only be upon your guard.  Andreas is a
+terrible fellow to deal with.
+
+Falieri.--HE 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.
+
+Contarino.--And _I_ tell you that Andreas is as brave as a lion, and
+as crafty as a fox.
+
+Falieri.--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.
+
+Parozzi.--Falieri is in the right.
+
+Memmo.--Quite, quite.
+
+Falieri.--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?
+
+Memmo.--Nay, that is an undoubted fact.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Parozzi.--And yet the populace idolises this Andreas.
+
+Memmo.--Ay, that is the worst part of the story.
+
+Falieri.--But never credit me again if he does not experience a
+reverse of fortune speedily.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Memmo.--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.
+
+ Parozzi.--Ha! ha! ha!  As for me, I need not tell you how I am
+suited.
+
+Falieri.--Had we been less extravagant, we might at this moment have
+been sitting quietly in our palaces; but as things stand now -
+
+Parozzi.--Well, as things stand now--I verily believe that Falieri
+is going to moralise.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Falieri.--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 ACTION.  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.
+
+Parozzi (with astonishment and delight).--Falieri, are you in your
+senses?  The Cardinal Gonzaga--?
+
+Falieri.--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.
+
+Contarino (clasping Falieri's hand).--Bravo, my friend!  Venice
+shall see a second edition of Catiline's conspiracy.  Now, then, it
+is MY turn to speak, for I have not been idle since we parted.  In
+truth, I have as yet CAUGHT 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?
+
+Parozzi.--Does not each of us keep a list of the handsomest women in
+the Republic, and can we have forgotten number one?
+
+Falieri.--Olympia and Rosabella are the goddesses of Venice; our
+youths burn incense on no other altars.
+
+Contarino.--Olympia is my own.
+
+Falieri.--How?
+
+Parozzi.--Olympia?
+
+Contarino.--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_ wish SHE 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.
+
+Parozzi.--Contarino, you are our master.
+
+Contarino.--And you had not the least suspicion how powerful an ally
+I was labouring to procure for you?
+
+Parozzi.--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.
+
+Memmo.--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.
+
+ Falieri.--You have suffered him to live too long already.
+
+Memmo.--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.
+
+Contarino.--Indeed.  Then take my advice, go into a monastery.
+
+Memmo.--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.
+
+Parozzi.--As soon as they are found, their first employment must be
+the removal of the Doge's trio of advisers.
+
+Contarino.--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 WE 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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX:  CINTHIA'S DWELLING.
+
+
+
+Scarcely 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.
+
+He arrived at Cinthia's dwelling.  It was already evening.  Cinthia
+opened the door, and Abellino entered the common apartment.
+
+"Where are the rest?" said he in a savage tone of voice whose sound
+made Cinthia tremble.
+
+"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.
+
+"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?"
+
+Abellino gave no answer.
+
+"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--"
+
+"Go, wake the sleepers!" roared the bravo.
+
+ "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."
+
+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.
+
+"Wake the sleepers, my good girl," said he, "I must speak with them
+this moment."
+
+Cinthia hesitated.
+
+"Nay, go," said he, in a fierce voice.
+
+Cinthia retired in silence; yet as she crossed the threshold, she
+stopped for an instant and menaced him with her finger.
+
+Abellino strode through the chamber with hasty steps, his head
+reclining on his shoulder, his arms folded over his breast.
+
+"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."
+
+Cinthia returned; the four bravoes followed her, yawning, grumbling,
+and still half asleep.
+
+"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."
+
+They listened to him with an air of indifference and impatience.
+
+"Why, what's the matter now?" said Thomaso, while he stretched
+himself.
+
+"Neither more nor less than that our honest, hearty, brave Matteo is
+murdered."
+
+"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.
+
+A general silence prevailed for some time.
+
+"Murdered"' at length repeated Thomaso, "and by whom?"
+
+Baluzzo.--Where?
+
+Pietrino.--What? this forenoon?
+
+Abellino.--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.
+
+Cinthia (weeping).--Poor dear Matteo.
+
+Abellino.--About this time to-morrow you will see his corpse
+exhibited on the gibbet.
+
+Pietrino.--What!  Did any one recognise him?
+
+Abellino.--Yes, yes! there's no doubt about his trade, you may
+depend on't.
+
+Cinthia.--The gibbet!  Poor dear Matteo!
+
+Thomaso.--This is a fine piece of work.
+
+Baluzzo.--Confound the fellow, who would have thought of anything
+happening so unlucky?
+
+Abellino.--Why, how now?  You seem to be overcome.
+
+Struzza.--I cannot recover myself; surprise and terror have almost
+stupefied me.
+
+Abellino.--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."
+
+Thomaso.--What?
+
+Struzza.--You laughed?  Hang me if I can see what there is to laugh
+at.
+
+Abellino.--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.
+
+Thomaso.--That's easy to say, but quite out of my power.
+
+Pietrino.--Mercy on me, how my teeth chatter.
+
+Baluzzo.--Prithee, Abellino, be composed for a moment or two, your
+gaiety at a time like this is quite horrible.
+
+Cinthia.--Oh, me! oh, me!  Poor murdered Matteo.
+
+Abellino.--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.
+
+Cinthia.--Out upon you, monster.
+
+Abellino.--What, have you altered your mind, my pretty dear?  Well,
+well, with all my heart, when YOU are in the humour, perhaps _I_ may
+not have the inclination.
+
+Baluzzo.--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.
+
+Pietrino.--Nay, this is no season for trifling.
+
+Struzza.--Tell us, Abellino; you are a clever fellow; what course is
+it best for us to take?
+
+Abellino (after a pause).--Nothing must be done, or a great deal.
+One of two things we must choose.  Either we must remain WHERE we
+are, and WHAT 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 -
+
+Thomaso.--Or else?  Well?
+
+Abellino.--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 Osteria, 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.
+
+Thomaso.--Ha! ha! ha!
+
+Abellino.--What YOU do, that will _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?
+
+Thomaso.--Was there ever such a stupid counsellor.
+
+Pietrino.--Our decision?  Nay, the point's not very difficult to
+decide.
+
+Abellino.--I should have thought it HAD been.
+
+Thomaso.--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.
+
+Pietrino.--Right, lad, you speak my thoughts exactly.
+
+Thomaso.--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.
+
+All.--Bravo, bravissimo.
+
+Pietrino.--And from this day forth I vote that Thomaso should be our
+captain.
+
+Struzza.--Aye, in Matteo's stead.
+
+All.--Right, right.
+
+Abellino.--To which I say amen with all my heart.  Now, then, all is
+decided.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE SECOND.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I:  THE BIRTHDAY.
+
+
+
+In 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.
+
+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.
+
+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 virtuosi
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+Lomellino.--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.
+
+Andreas.--Fill this goblet to their memory, my old soldier; you have
+earned your rest bravely.
+
+Lomellino.--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.
+
+Andreas.--My good Lomellino, the Cyprus wine must have heated your
+imagination.
+
+Lomellino.--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.
+
+Andreas.--You are an old enthusiast.  Think you the Emperor is of
+the same opinion?
+
+Lomellino.--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."
+
+Andreas.--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.
+
+Lomellino.--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.
+
+Andreas.--What!  Have we not many young officers of great promise?
+
+Lomellino.--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.
+
+Andreas.--You excite my curiosity.
+
+Lomellino.--About a week ago there arrived here a young Florentine
+nobleman called Flodoardo, a youth of noble appearance and great
+promise.
+
+Andreas.--Well?
+
+Lomellino.--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.
+
+Andreas.--While celebrating the father's bravery, you seem to have
+quite forgotten the son.
+
+Lomellino.--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.
+
+Andreas.--Has he sense and talent?
+
+Lomellino.--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.
+
+Andreas.--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.
+
+Lomellino.--Oh! then I have gained at least the HALF of my cause,
+and I believe the WHOLE 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.
+
+Andreas (smiling).--In the whole course of our acquaintance,
+Lomellino, never did I hear you so enthusiastic!  Go, then, conduct
+this prodigy hither.
+
+Lomellino.--I hasten to find him.  And as for you, signora, look to
+yourself! look to yourself, I say!
+
+Rosabella.--Nay, prithee, Lomellino, bring your hero hither without
+delay; you have raised my curiosity to the height.
+
+Lomellino quitted the saloon.
+
+Andreas.--How comes it that you rejoin not the dancers, my child?
+
+Rosabella.--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.
+
+Andreas (smiling, and threatening with his finger).--Child, child!
+
+Rosabella.--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.
+
+Andreas.--And Lomellino is with him; they approach.  Rosabella, you
+have made a good guess.
+
+The Doge had scarcely ceased to speak, when Lomellino entered the
+room, conducting a tall young man, richly habited in the Grecian
+fashion.
+
+"My gracious lord," said Lomellino, "I present to you the Count
+Flodoardo, who humbly sues for your protection."
+
+Flodoardo uncovered his head in token of respect, took off his mask,
+and bowed low before the illustrious ruler of Venice.
+
+Andreas.--I understand you are desirous of serving the Republic?
+
+Flodoardo.--That is my ambition, should your Highness think me
+deserving of such an honour.
+
+Andreas.--Lomellino speaks highly of you; if all that he says be
+true, how came you to deprive your own country of your services?
+
+Flodoardo.--Because my own country is not governed by an Andreas.
+
+Andreas.--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?
+
+Flodoardo.--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.
+
+Andreas.--That were much for a stranger to perform.  I would fain
+make the trial whether you can keep your word.
+
+Flodoardo.--That is sufficient.  To-morrow, or the day after at
+least, will I perform my promise.
+
+Andreas.--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.
+
+Flodoardo.--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.
+
+Andreas.--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.
+
+Flodoardo.--I could not be entrusted with a more precious charge.
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+"Lady," said Flodoardo, at length, "can there be a greater
+misfortune?"
+
+"A misfortune?" said Rosabella, starting as if suddenly awaking from
+a dream; "what misfortune, signor?  Who is unfortunate?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"You understand it as I meant:  and now tell me, lovely Rosabella,
+am I not indeed unfortunate?"
+
+"And where, then, is the Elysium which you must never possess?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"By my life, signora, I spoke but as I thought! my words concealed
+no flattery."
+
+"See, the Doge enters the saloon with Manfrone and Lomellino:  he
+will seek us among the dancers.  Come, let us join them."
+
+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.
+
+He was still without his mask, and bareheaded:  but every eye
+glanced away from the helmets and barettes, 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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II:  THE FLORENTINE STRANGER
+
+
+
+Two 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.
+
+Parozzi (after a long silence).--What, are you both dreaming?  Ho,
+there, Memmo, Falieri, fill your goblets.
+
+Memmo (with indifference).--Well, to please you--.  But I care not
+for wine to-night.
+
+Falieri.--Nor I.  Methinks it tastes like vinegar:  yet the wine
+itself is good:  'tis our ill temper spoils it.
+
+Parozzi.--Confound the rascals.
+
+Memmo.--What, the banditti?
+
+Parozzi.--Not a trace of them can be found.  It is enough to kill
+one with vexation.
+
+Falieri.--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.)
+
+Parozzi (striking his hand against the table passionately).--
+Flodoardo, Flodoardo.
+
+Falieri.--In a couple of hours I must attend the Cardinal Gonzaga,
+and what intelligence shall I have to give him?
+
+Memmo.--Come, come, Contarino cannot have been absent so long
+without cause; I warrant you he will bring some news with him when
+he arrives.
+
+Falieri.--Pshaw, pshaw!  My life on't he lies at this moment at
+Olympia's feet, and forgets us, the Republic, the banditti, and
+himself.
+
+Parozzi.--And so neither of you know anything of this Flodoardo?
+
+Memmo.--No more than of what happened on Rosabella's birthday.
+
+Falieri.--Well, then, I know one thing more about him; Parozzi is
+jealous of him.
+
+Parozzi.--I?  Ridiculous, Rosabella may bestow her hand on the
+German Emperor, or a Venetian gondolier, without its giving me the
+least anxiety.
+
+Falieri.--Ha! ha! ha!
+
+Memmo.--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.
+
+Parozzi.--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 -
+
+Memmo.--Which unluckily is exactly the thing which women always do -
+
+Falieri.--The old Lomellino seems to be extremely intimate with this
+Flodoardo.  They say he was well acquainted with his father.
+
+Memmo.--It was he who presented him to the Doge.
+
+Parozzi.--Hark!--Surely some one knocked at the palace door?
+
+Memmo.--It can be none but Contarino.  Now, then, we shall hear
+whether he has discovered the banditti.
+
+Falieri (starting from his chair).--I'll swear to that footstep,
+it's Contarino.
+
+The doors were thrown open.  Contarino entered hastily, enveloped in
+his cloak.
+
+"Good evening, sweet gentlemen," said he, and threw his mantle
+aside.  And Memmo, Parozzi, and Falieri started back in horror.
+
+"Good God!" they exclaimed, "what has happened?  You are covered
+with blood?"
+
+"A trifle!" cried Contarino; "is that wine? quick, give me a goblet
+of it, I expire with thirst."
+
+Falieri (while he gives him a cup).--But, Contarino, you bleed?
+
+Contarino.--You need not tell me that.  I did not do it myself, I
+promise you.
+
+Parozzi.--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.
+
+Contarino.--What has happened to me, say you?  Oh! a joke,
+gentlemen, a mere joke.  Here, Falieri, fill the bowl again.
+
+Memmo.--I can scarcely breathe for terror.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Memmo (shuddering).--Mercy on me! the very sight of it makes my
+blood run cold.
+
+Parozzi brought ointments and linen, and bound up the wound of his
+associate.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Falieri.--Proceed.
+
+Contarino.--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 DETERMINES 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.
+
+Falieri.--You are a daring fellow, Contarino.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+All.--Bravo.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Parozzi.--Well?
+
+Memmo (anxiously).--Go on, for God's sake!
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Falieri.--What followed?
+
+Contarino.--Why then followed a whole legion of sbirri and police-
+officers, and who should be at their head but the Florentine
+stranger.
+
+All.--Flodoardo?  What, Flodoardo?
+
+Contarino.--Flodoardo.
+
+Falieri.--What demon could have guided him thither?
+
+Parozzi.--Hell and furies!  Oh, that I had been there.
+
+Memmo.--There, now, Parozzi, you see at least that Flodoardo is no
+coward.
+
+Falieri.--Hush, let us hear the rest.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Parozzi.--I shall go mad.
+
+Falieri.--Everything we design is counteracted; the more trouble we
+give ourselves, the further we are from the goal.
+
+Memmo.--I confess it seems to me as if Heaven gave us warning to
+desist.  How say you?
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Falieri.--Do the banditti know who you are?
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Memmo.--Well, Contarino, in my mind you should thank Heaven that you
+have escaped so well.
+
+Falieri.--But since he is an absolute stranger in Venice, how could
+Flodoardo discover the lurking place of the banditti?
+
+Contarino.--I know not; probably by mere accident like myself, but
+by the Power that made me, he shall pay dearly for this wound.
+
+Falieri.--Flodoardo is rather too hasty in making himself remarked.
+
+Parozzi.--Flodoardo must die.
+
+Contarino (filling a goblet).--May his next cup contain poison.
+
+Falieri.--I shall do myself the honour of becoming better acquainted
+with the gentleman.
+
+Contarino.--Memmo, we must needs have full purses, or our business
+will hang on hand wofully.
+
+When does your uncle take his departure to a better world?
+
+Memmo.--To-morrow evening, and yet--ugh, I tremble.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III:  MORE CONFUSION.
+
+
+
+Since 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 THEM.
+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:-
+
+
+"VENETIANS!
+
+"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 HEROES, and now being called
+BANDITTI, 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_ shall find THEM, 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,
+ABELLINO."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV:  THE VIOLET.
+
+
+
+I informed 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Yet Camilla is in the right," she resumed, after a pause, and she
+frowned as had she said that Camilla was in the wrong.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Rosabella.--Ah! dear Camilla, is it you?  What brings you hither?
+
+Camilla.--You often call me your guardian angel, and guardian angels
+should always be near the object of their care.
+
+Rosabella.--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 -
+
+Camilla.--But still, though your prudence agrees with me, your heart
+is of a contrary opinion.
+
+Rosabella.--It is, indeed.
+
+Camilla.--Nor do I blame your heart for differing from me, my poor
+girl.  I have acknowledged to you without disguise that were _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
+DANGEROUS 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.
+
+Rosabella.--Dear Camilla, who was talking about husbands?  What I
+feel for Flodoardo is merely affection, friendship.
+
+Camilla.--Indeed!  Then you would be perfectly satisfied, should
+some one of our wealthy ladies bestow her hand on Flodoardo?
+
+Rosabella (hastily).--Oh! Flodoardo would not ACCEPT her hand,
+Camilla; of that I am sure.
+
+Camilla.--Child, child, you would willingly deceive yourself.  But
+be assured that a girl who loves ever connects, perhaps
+unconsciously, the wish for an eternal UNION with the idea of
+eternal AFFECTION.  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.
+
+Rosabella.--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 NOT deserve?
+
+Camilla.--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.
+
+Rosabella.--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.
+
+Camilla (smiling).--Are your sentiments of duty and gratitude so
+very strong?
+
+Rosabella.--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.
+
+Camilla.--No--what!  Not like Flodoardo?
+
+Rosabella (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!
+
+Camilla.--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.
+
+Camilla 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Now, then, she could not possibly retire immediately, unless she
+meant to violate every common principle of good breeding.
+
+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?
+
+"Signora," said Flodoardo, merely for the sake of saying something,
+"you do well to enjoy the open air.  The evening is beautiful."
+
+"But I interrupt your studies, my lord," said Rosabella.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Nothing can surpass this purple," continued Rosabella; "red and
+blue so happily blended, that no painter can produce so perfect a
+union."
+
+"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."
+
+"You seem to attach a value to the flower of which it is but little
+deserving."
+
+"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."
+
+He was silent.  Rosabella was silent also.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Rosabella trembled; her eyes could no longer sustain the fire of his
+glances, and a modest blush overspread her face and bosom.
+
+"Rosabella!" at length murmured Flodoardo, unconsciously;
+"Flodoardo!" sighed Rosabella, in the same tone.
+
+"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!"
+
+Rosabella held the flower fast.
+
+"Ask for it what thou wilt.  If a throne can purchase it, I will pay
+that price, or perish.  Rosabella, give me that flower!"
+
+She stole one look at the handsome suppliant and dared not hazard a
+second.
+
+"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."
+
+The flower trembled in her snowy hand.  Her fingers clasped it less
+firmly.
+
+"You hear me, Rosabella?  I kneel at your feet; and am I then in
+vain a beggar?"
+
+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."
+
+She tore the flower to pieces, and threw it contemptuously on the
+ground.
+
+"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!"
+
+She turned from him with disdain, and left Flodoardo rooted to his
+place with sorrow and astonishment.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V:  THE ASSASSIN.
+
+
+
+Scarcely 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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 THIS man was excited by the treasures of Andreas and his
+friends; while THAT was actuated by resentment of some fancied
+offence, a resentment which could only be quenched with the
+offender's blood.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Still did they not dare to carry their projects into effect, till
+some principal persons in the State should be prevented by DEATH
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+"'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.
+
+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.
+
+"VENETIANS!
+
+"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.
+
+"Twice did I bury my dagger in his heart, and then sent his body to
+feed the fishes.  The Doge promises TEN thousand sequins to him who
+shall discover Conari's murderer; and to him who shall be clever
+enough to SEIZE him, Abellino hereby promises TWENTY.  Adieu,
+Signors.  I remain your faithful servant,
+
+"ABELLINO."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI:  THE TWO GREATEST MEN IN VENICE.
+
+
+
+It 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.
+
+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 THEM
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"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.
+
+"Who art thou?" stammered out the Doge.
+
+"Thou seest me, and canst doubt?  Well, then, I am Abellino, the
+good friend of your murdered Conari, the Republic's most submissive
+slave."
+
+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.
+
+Abellino nodded to him with an air of familiar protection, and
+graciously condescended to grin upon him with a kind of half-
+friendly smile.
+
+"Abellino," said the Doge, at length, endeavouring to recollect
+himself, "thou art a fearful--a detestable man."
+
+"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."
+
+The Doge could not help smiling at the bravo's familiar tone.
+
+"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."
+
+The Doge made a movement, as he would have left him.
+
+"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."
+
+"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--"
+
+"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--"
+
+"Name it," cried the Doge, eagerly; "will ten thousand sequins
+purchase your departure from the Republic?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Monster--what insolence!"
+
+"Ho! ho!  Patience, patience, good uncle, that is to be.  Will you
+accept my terms?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Indeed!  Why, in fact, a million is not so great a sum; for look
+you, Andreas, I have just sold for near HALF a million the lives of
+your two dear friends, Manfrone and Lomellino.  Now give me
+Rosabella, and I break the bargain."
+
+"Miscreant!  Has Heaven no lightnings?"
+
+"You will not?  Mark me!  In four-and-twenty hours shall Manfrone
+and Lomellino be food for fishes.  Abellino has said it.  Away!"
+
+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.
+
+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 HIS
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Next, then, for Flodoardo!" shouted Parozzi.
+
+"Flodoardo!" muttered Abellino between his teeth; "hum--hum--that's
+not so easy."
+
+
+
+
+BOOK THE THIRD
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I:  THE LOVERS.
+
+
+
+Rosabella, 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.
+
+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.
+
+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:-
+
+
+"Let no one pretend to Rosabella's hand, who is not prepared to
+share the fate of Monaldeschi.
+"The Bravo,
+"ABELLINO."
+
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"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--"
+
+"I know all," answered Flodoardo, with a melancholy air.
+
+"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 YOU.  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--"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Signora," said he, "are you still angry with me?"
+
+"I am not angry with you," stammered out Rosabella, and blushed as
+she recollected the garden scene.
+
+"And you have quite forgiven my transgression?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Signora!"
+
+"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."
+
+Flodoardo replied not.
+
+"Will you not forgive me?  You must be very difficult to appease--
+very revengeful!"
+
+Flodoardo replied not.
+
+"Will you refuse my offered hand?  Shall all be forgotten?"
+
+"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 YOU bore a part:  I cannot forget the scene
+that passed between us, every circumstance is too precious and
+sacred.  As to PARDON"--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."
+
+Both were now silent.  At length Rosabella resumed the conversation
+by saying--"You have made a long absence from Venice; did you travel
+far?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"And received much pleasure from your journey?"
+
+"Much; for everywhere I heard the praises of Rosabella."
+
+"Count Flodoardo," she interrupted him with a look of reprehension,
+but in a gentle voice, "would you again offend me?"
+
+"That will soon be out of my power.  Perhaps you can guess what are
+my present intentions."
+
+"To resume your travels soon?"
+
+"Exactly so; and the next time that I quit Venice, to return to it
+no more."
+
+"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."
+
+"By my honour, lady, I never was more in earnest."
+
+"And whither, then, do you mean to go?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Oh! this is a mockery, Count.  I have not deserved that you should
+sport with my feelings so cruelly."
+
+"It is to SPARE 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."
+
+"And you really can resolve to abandon the Doge, whose esteem for
+you is so sincere, whose friendship has always been so warm?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Does, then, your happiness require so much?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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!"
+
+"What would you of me?"
+
+"My happiness!"
+
+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!"
+
+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.
+
+"Flodoardo," she cried, "I am thine!" and sank motionless at his
+feet.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II:  A DANGEROUS PROMISE.
+
+
+
+And 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.
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+"You are dear to me, Flodoardo," murmured Rosabella, for Camilla and
+her counsels were quite forgotten; "oh, you are very, very dear!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Stay yet one moment, noble Andreas," cried the Florentine.
+
+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.
+
+"Young man," said he, in a stern voice, "the attempt to excuse
+yourself must be fruitless."
+
+"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 NOT 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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+The Doge started in astonishment at this bold and unexpected
+request.
+
+"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 WILL perform
+such actions, or perish in the attempt."
+
+The Doge turned from him with a look of displeasure.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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, ABELLINO!"
+
+At this unexpected conclusion of a speech on which his happiness or
+despair depended, Flodoardo started back.  The colour fled from his
+cheeks.
+
+"My noble lord!" he said at length, hesitating, "you know well that-
+-"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+He advanced towards the Doge.
+
+Andreas.--Now, then, Flodoardo--your resolution?
+
+Flodoardo.--Should I deliver Abellino into your power, do you
+solemnly swear that Rosabella shall be my bride?
+
+Andreas.--She shall! and NOT TILL THEN.
+
+Rosabella.--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 -
+
+Flodoardo (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.
+
+Andreas.--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.
+
+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.
+
+"Time flies!" cried Flodoardo; "no more delay, then.  In four-and-
+twenty hours will I produce in this very palace this dreaded bravo,
+Abellino."
+
+Andreas shook his head.  "Young man," said he, "be less confident in
+your promises; I shall have more faith in your performance."
+
+Flodoardo (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.
+
+Andreas.--Remember that too much haste is dangerous; rashness will
+destroy even the frail hopes of success which you may reasonably
+indulge at present.
+
+Flodoardo.--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.
+
+Rosabella (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!
+
+Flodoardo.--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.
+
+Andreas.--Right; to venture:  but to achieve?
+
+Flodoardo.--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.
+
+"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."
+
+Andreas (after eyeing him some time with a look of mingled surprise
+and uncertainty).--They shall be present.
+
+Flodoardo.--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.
+
+Andreas.--You shall be gratified.
+
+Flodoardo.--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.
+
+Andreas.--All this shall be done punctually.
+
+Flodoardo.--I have nothing more to say.  Noble Andreas, farewell.
+Rosabella, to-morrow, when the clock strikes five, we shall meet
+again, or never.
+
+He said, and rushed out of the apartment.  Andreas shook his head;
+while Rosabella sank upon her uncle's bosom, and wept bitterly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.--THE MIDNIGHT MEETING.
+
+
+
+"Victory!" 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."
+
+Gonzaga.--Flodoardo does not want talents; I had rather he should
+live and join our party.  He is seldom off his guard -
+
+Parozzi.--Such vagabonds may well be cautious; they must not forget
+themselves, who have so much to conceal from others.
+
+Falieri.--Rosabella, as I understand, by no means sees this
+Florentine with unfavourable eyes.
+
+Parozzi.--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.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Gonzaga.--Are you all invited to the Doge's tomorrow?
+
+Contarino.--All of us, without exception.
+
+Gonzaga.--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?
+
+Falieri.--He did.
+
+Memmo.--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.
+
+Gonzaga.--Absurd!  By what means should our designs have been made
+known to him?  The thing is impossible.
+
+Memmo.--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?
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Falieri.--You are right, friend; everything is ready now.  The
+sooner that the blow is struck the better.
+
+Parozzi.--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.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Parozzi.--Mark me, friends, we must go armed to the Doge's
+entertainment.
+
+Gonzaga.--All the members of the College of Ten have been
+particularly invited -
+
+Falieri.--Down with every man of them!
+
+Memmo.--Aye, aye!  Fine talking, but suppose it should turn out to
+be down with ourselves?
+
+Falieri.--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.
+
+Memmo.--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.
+
+Gonzaga.--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.
+
+Memmo.--The Pope?  May we count on his protection?
+
+Gonzaga (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.
+
+Falieri.--The admiral Adorna, as soon as he hears the alarm-bell,
+will immediately lead his people to our assistance.
+
+Parozzi.--Oh, our success is certain.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Parozzi.--Heaven, I am delighted at finding the business at length
+so near the moment of execution!
+
+Falieri.--Parozzi, have you distributed the white ribbons by which
+we are to recognise our partisans?
+
+Parozzi.--That was done some days ago.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Memmo.--And yet methinks it would not be unwise to consider the
+matter over again coolly.
+
+Contarino.--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.
+
+Parozzi.--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.
+
+Contarino.--That care we will leave to you, Parozzi, and in the
+meanwhile here's the health of Abellino.
+
+All.--Abellino!
+
+Gonzaga.--And success to our enterprise to-morrow.
+
+Memmo.--I'll drink THAT toast with all my heart.
+
+All.--Success to to-morrow's enterprise!
+
+Parozzi.--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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.--THE DECISIVE DAY.
+
+
+
+The 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+The Doge advanced slowly into the midst of the assembly.  Every eye
+was fixed upon him.  The hearts of the conspirators beat painfully.
+
+"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."
+
+All (astonished).--Abellino?  What, the bravo Abellino?
+
+Gonzaga.--Of his own accord!
+
+Andreas.--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.
+
+A Senator.--The engagement will be difficult to fulfil.  I doubt
+much Flodoardo's keeping his promise.
+
+Another.--But if he SHOULD perform it, the obligation which
+Flodoardo will lay upon the Republic will not be trifling.
+
+A Third.--Nay, we shall be all his debtors, nor do I know how we can
+reward Flodoardo for so important a service.
+
+Andreas.--Be that my task.  Flodoardo has demanded my niece in
+marriage if he performs his promise.  Rosabella shall be his reward.
+
+All gazed on each other in silence; some with looks expressing the
+most heartfelt satisfaction, and others with glances of envy and
+surprise.
+
+Falieri (in a low voice).--Parozzi, how will this end?
+
+Memmo.--As I live, the very idea makes me shake as if I had a fever.
+
+Parozzi (smiling contemptuously).--It's very likely that Abellino
+should suffer himself to be caught!
+
+Contarino.--Pray inform me, signors, have any of you ever met this
+Abellino face to face?
+
+Several Noblemen at once.--Not I.  Never.
+
+A Senator.--He is a kind of spectre, who only appears now and then,
+when he is least expected and desired.
+
+Rosabella.--I saw him once; never again shall I forget the monster.
+
+Andreas.--And my interview with him is too well known to make it
+needful for me to relate it.
+
+Memmo.--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.
+
+"Gracious Heaven!" screamed several of the ladies, "you don't say
+so?  What, strangle us in this very chamber?"
+
+Contarino.--The principal point is, whether Flodoardo will get the
+better of HIM, or HE of Flodoardo.  Now I would lay a heavy wager
+that the Florentine will return without having finished the
+business.
+
+A Senator.--And _I_ would engage, on the contrary, that there is but
+one man in Venice who is capable of seizing Abellino, and that THAT
+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.
+
+Another Senator.--I think with you, signor.  Never was I so struck
+with a man at first sight as I was with Flodoardo.
+
+Contarino.--A thousand sequins on Abellino's not being taken, unless
+death should have taken him first.
+
+The First Senator.--A thousand sequins on Flodoardo seizing him -
+
+Andreas.--And delivering him up to me, either alive or dead.
+
+Contarino.--Illustrious signors, you are witnesses of the wager.  My
+Lord Vitalba, there is my hand on it.  A thousand sequins!
+
+The Senator.--Done.
+
+Contarino (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.
+
+Gonzaga.--May I request your Highness to inform me whether Flodoardo
+is attended by the sbirri?
+
+Andreas.--No, he is alone.  Near four-and-twenty hours have elapsed
+since he set out in pursuit of the bravo.
+
+Gonzaga (to Contarino, with a smile of triumph).--I wish you joy of
+your thousand sequins, signor.
+
+Contarino (bowing respectfully).--Since your Excellency prophesies
+it I can no longer doubt my success.
+
+Memmo.--I begin to recover myself!  Well, well! let us see the end.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.--THE CLOCK STRIKES FIVE.
+
+
+
+The 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 ONE thousand sequins, but twenty, if the loss of
+his wager through Abellino's being captured might but secure the
+general safety of the Republic.
+
+"Hark!" cried Rosabella, "the clock strikes five!"
+
+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!
+
+The venerable Andreas felt a sincere affection for the Florentine;
+he shuddered as he dwelt upon the probability that Abellino's dagger
+had prevailed.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+Contarino.--Was it at five o'clock that Flodoardo engaged to produce
+Abellino?  It is now a full hour beyond his time.
+
+The Senator Vitalba.--Let him only produce him at last, and he may
+be a month beyond his time if he choose.
+
+Andreas.--Hark!  No.  Silence! silence!  Surely I hear footsteps
+approaching the saloon.
+
+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 barrette, 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.
+
+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.
+
+"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed Memmo, "I am afraid that--"
+
+"Be silent, signor!" interrupted Contarino, sternly; "there is
+nothing to be afraid of."
+
+"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."
+
+Andreas (examining his countenance with extreme anxiety).--
+Flodoardo, have you succeeded?  Is Abellino your prisoner?
+
+Flodoardo.--If Abellino is my prisoner, shall Rosabella be my bride?
+
+Andreas.--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!
+
+Flodoardo.--Illustrious Venetians, ye have heard the Doge's oath?
+
+All.--We are your witnesses.
+
+Flodoardo (advancing a few paces with a bold air, and speaking in a
+firm voice).--Well, then, Abellino is in my power--is in YOURS.
+
+All (in confusion and a kind of uproar).--In ours?  Merciful heaven!
+Where is he?  Abellino!
+
+Andreas.--Is he dead or living?
+
+Flodoardo.--He still lives.
+
+Gonzaga (hastily).--He lives?
+
+Flodoardo (bowing to the Cardinal respectfully).--He still lives,
+signor.
+
+Rosabella (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.
+
+The Senator Vitalba.--Signor Contarino, I have won a thousand
+sequins of you.
+
+Contarino.--So it should seem, signor.
+
+Andreas.--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.
+
+Vitalba.--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.
+
+Flodoardo (extending his arms towards Rosabella, with a melancholy
+air).--There stands the only reward for which I wish.
+
+Andreas (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.
+
+Two or three Senators.--Where is he?  Bring him hither.
+
+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."
+
+"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 THE BRAVO'S
+BRIDE."  And he pointed to Rosabella.
+
+"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."
+
+Falieri.--Is Abellino already in this palace?
+
+Flodoardo.--He is.
+
+Vitalba.--Then why do you not produce him?  Why do you trifle so
+long with our impatience?
+
+Flodoardo.--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!
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Stay, Flodoardo!" she cried, rushing towards him, and--Ha!
+Flodoardo was gone, and there, in his place, stood Abellino, and
+shouted out, "Ho! ho!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.--APPARITIONS.
+
+
+
+Instantly 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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+Andreas (clasping his hands together).--Almighty God! can all this
+be possible?
+
+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.
+
+Rosabella opened her eyes; their first look fell upon the bravo.
+
+"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."
+
+Abellino advanced towards her, and attempted to raise her.  She
+shrunk from his touch with horror.
+
+"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."
+
+"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!"
+
+Abellino (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.
+
+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.
+
+Abellino.--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.
+
+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?"
+
+Rosabella was unable to answer; she stood like one changed to a
+statue, and fixed her motionless eyes on the bravo.
+
+Abellino took her cold hand and pressed it to his lips.
+
+"Rosabella," said he, "art thou still mine?"
+
+Rosabella.--Flodoardo, oh! that I had never loved, had never seen
+thee!
+
+Abellino.--Rosabella wilt thou still be the bride of Flodoardo? wilt
+thou be "the Bravo's Bride?"
+
+Love struggled with abhorrence in Rosabella's bosom, and painful was
+the contest.
+
+Abellino.--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?
+
+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!"
+
+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.
+
+"Doge of Venice," said he, "will you keep your promise?  That you
+gave it to me, these noble lords and ladies can testify."
+
+Andreas.--Monster! miscreant!  Oh! how artfully has this plan been
+laid to ensnare me!  Tell me, Venetians, to SUCH 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?
+
+All the Senators.--No, no, by no means.
+
+Abellino (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?
+
+Andreas (in the tone of authority).--Give up your arms.
+
+Abellino.--And you will really withhold from me my just reward?
+Shall it be in vain that I delivered Abellino into your power?
+
+Andreas.--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.
+
+Abellino (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 MY affair, and I warrant I shall
+find a word or two to say in defence of them, when the judgment day
+arrives.
+
+Gonzaga (to the Doge).--What dreadful blasphemy.
+
+Abellino.--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.
+
+Gonzaga (angrily, and with imperious dignity).--Address not thyself
+to ME, miscreant.  What canst thou and I have to do together?
+Venerable Andreas, delay no longer; let the guards be called in.
+
+Abellino.--What?  Is there then no hope for me?  Does no one feel
+compassion for the wretched Abellino?  What! NO ONE?--(a pause)--All
+are silent?--ALL!  'Tis enough.  Then my fate is decided--call in
+your guards.
+
+Rosabella (with a scream of agony, springing forward, and falling at
+the feet of the Doge).--Mercy, mercy!  Pardon him--pardon ABELLINO!
+
+Abellino (in rapture).--Sayest thou so?  Ho! ho! then an angel prays
+for Abellino in his last moments.
+
+Rosabella (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.
+
+Andreas (pushing her away with indignation).--Away, unworthy girl;
+you rave.
+
+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 HIM, then have none on ME.  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."
+
+Andreas (in an angry and decided tone).--Abellino dies.
+
+Abellino.--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.
+
+He raised her from the ground, and pressed her pale lips against his
+own.
+
+"Rosabella, thou art mine; death alone can part us.  Thou lovest me
+as I WOULD be loved; I am blest whate'er may happen, and can now set
+fortune at defiance.  To business, then."
+
+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 -
+
+"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 ME, signors, I shall take
+the liberty of passing sentence upon some few of YOU.  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?"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"What can all this mean?" asked the senators of each other, in the
+utmost surprise and confusion.
+
+"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."
+
+Contarino (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.
+
+Abellino (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.
+
+Andreas (in astonishment)--Abellino, what is the meaning of all
+this?
+
+Abellino.--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.
+
+Vitalba (to the accused).--Noble Venetians, you are silent under
+this heavy charge.
+
+Abellino.--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.
+
+And now, Venetians, compare together YOUR conduct and MINE.  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?
+
+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.
+
+He turned himself to the conspirators
+
+"Mark me!" said he, "the first among you who acknowledges the truth
+shall receive a free pardon.  I swear it, I, the bravo Abellino!"
+
+The conspirators remained silent.  Suddenly Memmo started forward
+and threw himself trembling at the Doge's feet.
+
+"Venetians," he exclaimed, "Abellino has told you true."
+
+"'Tis false, 'tis false!" exclaimed the accused altogether.
+
+"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!"
+
+Again he sounded his whistle.  The folding doors were thrown open,
+and there stood the Doge's much lamented friends--Conari, Lomellino,
+and Manfrone.
+
+"We are betrayed!" shouted Contarino, who drew out a concealed
+dagger, and plunged it in his bosom up to the very hilt.
+
+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 YOUTH, who had fought by each other's sides in MANHOOD, were now
+assembled in AGE, 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!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Abellino!" said Andreas advancing to the bravo, and extending his
+hand towards him.
+
+"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."
+
+"Monaldeschi?" repeated Andreas, with a look of anxiety.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"Abellino," said Rosabella, and extended her hand to the handsome
+Bravo.
+
+"Triumph!" cried he, "Rosabella is the Bravo's Bride," and he
+clasped the blushing maid to his bosom.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.--CONCLUSION.
+
+
+
+And 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 HOWS, WHYS,
+and WHEREFORES, 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?
+
+Secondly--If my readers DO like my manner of relating adventures,
+can I employ my time better than in relating them?
+
+When these questions are answered, I may probably resume my pen.  In
+the meanwhile, gentlemen and ladies, good-night, and pleasant dreams
+attend you.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext The Bravo of Venice, by M. G. Lewis
+
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