Chapter XIX: Introduction (2)

It was evident that she was growing thin and losing her bloom; she kept the prince more and more at a distance. She passed her life in the gondola, and even neglected the poor a little. She seemed to be giving way to a profound depression the cause of which we sought in vain.

There was one week when she apparently tried to divert her thoughts. She surrounded herself with company, and in the evening her gondola was attended by several others in which she placed her friends and the musicians hired to sing for them. Once she asked me to sing. I declined, alleging my unfitness to perform in the presence of professional musicians and numerous _dilettanti_. She insisted, gently at first, then with some irritation; I continued to refuse, and at last she ordered me, in a most imperative tone, to obey her. It was the first time in her life that she had lost her temper. And I, instead of reflecting that it was her illness which had changed her disposition thus, and humoring her, yielded to the suggestion of invincible pride, and declared that I was not her slave, that I had hired myself to her to row her gondola and not to entertain her guests; and, in a word, that I had nearly ruined my voice for her amusement, and that she rewarded me so ill for my self-sacrifice that I would sing no more for her or anyone else. She made no reply; the friends who accompanied her, amazed at my audacity, held their peace. A few minutes later, Salomé uttered a sharp exclamation and seized little Alezia, who, having fallen asleep in her mother's arms, nearly fell into the water. The signora had fainted some moments before, and no one had noticed it.

I dropped my oar; I talked at random; I went to the signora's side; I should have done some insane thing or other, if the prudent Salomé had not imperiously sent me back to my post. The signora came to herself and we made haste back to the palace. But the company was surprised and shocked, the music was all awry; and, for my own part, I was in such despair and terror, that my trembling hands could not hold the oar. I lost my wits, I ran into all the other gondolas. Mandola swore at me; but I, deaf to his warnings, turned every moment to look at Signora Aldini, whose pale face seemed, in the moonlight, to bear the stamp of death.

She passed a bad night; the next day she was feverish and kept her bed. Salomé refused to admit me. In spite of her refusal I stole into the bedroom and dropped on my knees beside the signora, weeping bitterly. She held out her hand, which I covered with kisses, and told me that I had done right to resist her.

"I have been exacting, capricious and cruel for some time past," she added with an angelic sweetness. "You must forgive me, Nello; I am ill, and I feel that I cannot control my temper as usual. I forget that you are not destined to remain a gondolier, and that a brilliant future is in store for you. Forgive me for this too; my friendship for you is so great that I had a selfish desire to keep you with me, and to bury your talent in this humble and obscure position which is ruining your prospects. You defended your independence and your dignity and you did well. Henceforth you shall be free, you shall study music; I will spare no pains to keep your voice unharmed and to develop your talent; you shall perform no other service for me than such as is dictated by affection and gratitude."

I swore that I would serve her all my life; that I would rather die than leave her; and, in truth, my attachment to her was so deep and so pure that I did not consider that I was taking a rash oath.

She was better after that, and insisted on my taking my first lessons in singing. She was present, and seemed to take the keenest interest. In the intervals between the lessons, she made me study and recite to her the elementary principles of music, of which I had not the slightest idea, although I had instinctively conformed to them when I sang naturally.

My progress was rapid. I ceased to do hard work of any kind. The signora pretended that the double movement caused by the two oars in alternation tired her, and Mandola's wages were doubled so that he might not complain of having to do all the work alone. As for myself, I was always in the gondola, but I sat in the bow, occupied solely in looking into my mistress's eyes to divine what I should do to please her. Her lovely eyes were very sad--very pensive. Her health improved at times, then became worse again. That was my only sorrow, but it was very keen.

She lost her strength more and more, and the assistance of our arms was no longer sufficient when she went upstairs. It became Mandola's duty to carry her like a child, as I carried little Alezia. That young lady grew more beautiful every day; but her style of beauty and her temperament made her the exact opposite of her mother. Alezia was as dark as her mother was fair. Her hair already fell to her knees in two heavy ebony braids; her little, soft, round arms stood forth like those of a young Moor against her silk clothing, always white as snow; for she was consecrated to the Virgin. As for her temperament, it was very strange for one of her years. I have never seen a child so grave and distrustful and silent. She seemed to have inherited the haughty nature of Signor Torquato. She was never on familiar terms with anyone; she never used the familiar words of address with any of us. A caress from Salomé she seemed to consider an insult, and the very utmost I could obtain, by dint of carrying her, waiting upon her and flattering her, was permission to kiss once a week the tips of her little pink fingers, of which she was already as careful as the most coquettish woman could have been. She was very cold to her mother, and passed long hours seated by her side in the gondola, with her eyes fixed on the water, silent, apparently insensible to everything, and as dreamy as a statue. But if the signora ventured to reprove her ever so mildly, or if she went to bed because of an attack of fever, the little one would fly into one of those paroxysms of frantic despair which aroused fears for her life or her reason.

One day she fainted in my arms because Mandola, who was carrying her mother, slipped on one of the steps and fell with her. The signora was slightly hurt, and from that day was unwilling to trust the skill of the Lombard giant. She asked me if I were strong enough to take his place. I was then at the height of my muscular development, and I told her that I could carry four women like herself and eight children like hers. After that I always carried her, for her strength did not return up to the time that I left her.

The time soon came when the signora seemed to be less light and the staircase harder to ascend. It was not because her weight was increasing, but because my strength failed me as soon as I took her in my arms. At first I did not understand it; then I reproached myself bitterly; but my emotion was insurmountable. That willowy and voluptuous figure which abandoned itself to me, that charming face almost touching mine, that alabaster arm around my bare and burning neck, that perfumed hair mingling with mine--it was too much for a lad of seventeen. It was impossible for her not to feel the hurried beating of my heart, and read in my eyes the disturbance that she caused in my senses. "I tire you," she would sometimes say with a languishing air. I could not reply to that sarcasm; my head would begin to whirl, and I was forced to run away as soon as I had placed her in her chair. One day it happened that Salomé was not, as usual, in her cabinet to receive her. I had some difficulty in arranging the cushions so that she could sit comfortably. My arms met around her waist. I found myself at her feet, my dizzy head resting on her knees. She ran her fingers through my hair. The sudden quivering of that hand revealed to me that of which I had had no conception. I was not the only one who was moved; I was not the only one on the point of giving way. We were no longer servant and mistress, gondolier and signora; we were a young man and a young woman who loved each other. A sudden light flashed through my mind and darted from my eyes. She hastily pushed me away, and exclaimed, in a stifled voice: "_Go_!" I obeyed, but as a conqueror. I was no longer the servant receiving an order, but the lover making a sacrifice.

Thereupon blind desire took possession of my whole being. I did not reflect; I felt neither fear nor scruple nor doubt. I had but one fixed idea, to be alone with Bianca. But that was more difficult than one might presume from her independent position. It seemed as if Salomé divined the danger, and had taken upon herself the task of protecting her mistress from it. She never left her, except sometimes at night when little Alezia wanted to go to bed at the hour when her mother went out in the gondola. At such times Mandola inevitably accompanied us on the lagoons. I saw plainly enough, by the signora's expression and her uneasiness, that she could not help desiring a tête-à-tête with me; but she was too weak either to seek it or to avoid it. I did not lack boldness or resolution, but not for anything under heaven would I have compromised her; and furthermore, so long as I had not actually won a victory in that delicate condition of affairs, my rôle might well be supremely ridiculous, even contemptible, in the eyes of the signora's other servants.

Luckily honest Mandola, who was not devoid of penetration, had for me an affection which never wavered. I should not be surprised, although he never gave me the right to assert it, if love had sometimes made a soft heart beat fast beneath that rough bark, when he carried the signora in his arms. It was extremely imprudent for a young woman to betray the secret of her love-affairs to two young men of our age, and almost flaunt them in our faces; and it was impossible for us to be witnesses of the good fortune of other men, for two years, without being unduly tempted. However that may be, I find it difficult to believe that Mandola would have detected so readily what was taking place in my heart, if something of the same sort had not taken place in his. One evening, as I sat at the bow of the gondola, lost in thought, my face hidden in my hands, waiting for the signora to send for us, he said to me: "_Nello! Nello_!!!"--nothing more, but in a tone which seemed to me to mean so much that I raised my head and looked at him with a sort of terror, as if my fate were in his hands.--He stifled something like a sigh, as he added the popular saying: "_Sara quel che sara_!"

"What do you mean?" I cried, rising and grasping his arm.

"Nello! Nello!" he repeated, shaking his head. At that moment they came to tell me to go up and bring the signora to the gondola; but Mandola's meaning glance followed me up the steps and moved me strangely.

That same day Mandola applied to Signora Aldini for a week's leave of absence, to go and see his sick father. Bianca seemed surprised and dismayed by the request; but she granted it at once, adding: "But who will row my gondola?"--"Nello," Mandola replied, watching me closely. "But he cannot row alone," rejoined the signora. "No matter, take me home, to-morrow we will look for a temporary substitute. Go to see your father, and take good care of him; I will pray for him."

The next day the signora sent for me, and asked me if I had made inquiries for a gondolier. I replied only by an audacious smile. The signora turned pale and said to me in a trembling voice: "You will attend to it to-morrow; I shall not go out to-day."

I realized my mistake; but the signora had shown more fear than anger, and my hope augmented my insolence. Toward evening I went and asked her if I should bring the gondola to the steps. She replied coldly: "I told you this morning that I should not go out." I did not lose courage. "The weather has changed, signora," I said, "the wind is as warm as the sirocco. It is fine weather for you to-night." She bestowed a withering glance upon me, saying: "I didn't ask you what the weather is. How long has it been your place to advise me?" The battle was on, I did not retreat. "Since you have seemed disposed to allow yourself to die," I replied vehemently. She seemed to yield to some magnetic force; for she languidly dropped her head on her hand, and in a faint voice bade me bring the gondola.

I carried her down to it. Salomé attempted to accompany her. I took it upon myself to say to her in an imperative tone that her mistress ordered her to remain with Signora Alezia. I saw the blood come and go in the signora's cheeks as I took the oar and eagerly pushed against the marble steps which seemed to flee behind us.

When I was a few rods from the palace, it seemed to me that I had conquered the world, and that my victory was assured, all inconvenient witnesses being out of the way. I rowed furiously out into the middle of the lagoons, without turning my head, without speaking a word, without stopping for breath. I had the appearance of a lover carrying off his mistress much more than of a gondolier rowing his employer. When we were quite alone, I dropped my oar and let the boat drift; but at that point all my courage abandoned me; it was impossible for me to speak to the signora, I dared not even look at her. She gave me no encouragement, and I rowed her back to the palace, mortified enough to have resumed the trade of boatman without obtaining the reward I hoped for.

Salomé showed some temper with me, and humiliated me several times, accusing me of having a surly and preoccupied air. I could never say a word to the signora without a rebuke from the maid, who always declared that I did not express myself respectfully. The signora, who usually defended me, did not even seem to notice the mortifications to which I was subjected that evening. I was incensed beyond words. For the first time I was really ashamed of my position, and I should have thought seriously of quitting it, if the irresistible magnet of desire had not kept me in bondage.

For several days I suffered tortures. The signora pitilessly allowed me to exhaust my strength rowing her about at midday, in the dry, intensely hot, autumn weather, before the eyes of the whole city, who had seen me for a long time previously seated in her gondola, at her feet, almost at her side, and who saw me now, dripping with perspiration, fallen from the sublime profession of troubadour to the laborious trade of gondolier. My love changed to wrath. Two or three times I felt a shameful temptation to treat her disrespectfully in public; then I was ashamed of myself and my dejection became the more complete.

One morning, the fancy seized her to go ashore on the Lido. The shore was deserted, the sand sparkled in the sunlight; my head was burning hot, the perspiration was running down my breast in streams. As I stooped to lift Signora Aldini, she passed her silk handkerchief over my dripping forehead, and gazed at me with a sort of loving compassion.

"_Poveretto_!" she said, "you are not made for the trade to which I condemn you!"

"I would go to the galleys for you," I replied hotly.

"And sacrifice your beautiful voice," she rejoined, "and the great talent you may acquire, and the noble profession of musical artist to which you may attain?"

"Everything!" I replied, dropping on my knees before her.

"You do not mean it!" she retorted, with a melancholy air. "Return to your place," she added, pointing to the bow. "I wish to rest a while here."

I returned to the bow, but I left the door of the _camerino_ open. I could see her lying on the black cushions, fair and pale, wrapped in her black cape, buried and, as it were hidden in the black velvet of that mysterious bower, which seems made for stealthy pleasures and forbidden joys. She resembled a beautiful swan which swims into a dark grotto to avoid the hunter. I felt that my reason was abandoning me; I crept to her side and fell on my knees. To give her a kiss and then die in expiation of my crime was my whole thought. Her eyes were closed, she pretended to be asleep, but she felt the fire of my breath. Then she called to me aloud, as if she believed me to be at a distance, and pretended to wake gradually, to give me time to go away. She bade me go to the _bottega_ on the Lido to fetch her some lemonade, then closed her eyes again. I put one foot on shore, and that was all. I stepped back into the gondola and stood still, gazing at her. She opened her eyes, and her glance seemed to draw me to her by a thousand chains of steel and diamond. I took one step toward her, she closed her eyes again; I took another step, and she opened them, assuming an expression of contemptuous surprise. I went ashore again, then returned to the gondola. This cruel game lasted several minutes. She attracted and spurned me as the hawk plays with the mortally wounded sparrow. Anger took possession of me; I slammed the door of the _camerino_ so violently that the glass was shivered. She uttered a cry which I did not deign to notice, but rushed ashore, singing in a voice of thunder, which I thought reckless and devil-may-care:

"La Biondina in gondoleta
L'altra sera mi o mena;
Dal piazer la povareta
La x' a in boto adormenta.
E la dormiva su sto bracio
Me intanto la svegliava;
E la barca che ninava
La tornava a adormenzar."

I sat down upon one of the Jewish tombstones on the Lido, and remained there a long while; I purposely compelled her to wait for me. Then, of a sudden, thinking that she might be suffering with thirst, I ran, stricken with remorse, to fetch the drink for which she had asked me, and carried it to her with deep solicitude. And yet I hoped that she would reprimand me; I would have liked to be dismissed from my employment, for it had become intolerable to me. She received me with no trace of anger; indeed she thanked me sweetly as she took the glass I handed her. Thereupon I saw that her hand was bleeding, it had been cut by the broken glass. I could not restrain my tears. I saw that hers were flowing too; but she did not speak to me, and I dared not break that silence, fraught with loving reproaches and timid passion.

I determined to stamp out my insane love and to leave Venice. I tried to persuade myself that the signora had never returned it, and that I had flattered myself with an impertinent hope; but every moment her glance, her tone of voice, her gesture, even her sadness, which seemed to increase and decrease with mine, all combined to revive my insane confidence and to lead me to dangerous dreams.

Fate seemed determined to deprive us of what little strength we still retained. Mandola did not return. I was a very indifferent oarsman, despite my zeal and strength; I was not familiar with the lagoons, I had always been so absorbed by my own thoughts as I went in and out among them! One evening I went astray in the salt marshes that stretch from the St. George canal to the Marana canal. The rising tide covered those vast plains of sand and seaweed; but it began to fall again before I succeeded in rowing back into clear water; I could see the tops of the aquatic plants moving in the breeze amid the foam. I pulled hard, but in vain. The ebb tide laid bare a vast expanse of marsh, and the gondola stranded gently on a bed of seaweed and shells. Night had spread its veil over the sky and the waters, the sea-birds lighted all around us, by thousands, filling the air with their plaintive cries. I called for a long time, but my voice was lost in space; no fishing vessel chanced to be at anchor near the marsh, no craft of any sort approached us. We must needs resign ourselves to the necessity of awaiting some chance succor or the next morning's tide. This last alternative was exceedingly disquieting; I dreaded the cold night air for my mistress's sake, and above all, the unhealthy vapors that rise from the marshes at daybreak; I tried in vain to pull the gondola to a pool of water. Aside from the fact that we should simply have gained a very few feet, it would have taken more than six men to raise the boat from the bed she had made for herself. Thereupon I determined to wade through the swamp, up to my waist in mud, until I reached the channel, and to swim across in quest of help. It was an insane undertaking; for I did not know the lay of the land, and where the fishermen adroitly walk about to gather _sea-fruit_, I should have been lost in bogs and quick-sands after a very few steps. When the signora saw that I was inclined to resist her prohibition, and was about to take the risk, she sprang to her feet, and, mustering strength to remain in that position for an instant, she threw her arms about me and fell back, almost pressing me to her heart. Thereupon I forgot all my anxiety, and cried frantically: "Yes! yes! let us stay here; let us never leave this spot; let us die here of joy and love, and may the Adriatic not wake to-morrow to rescue us!"

In the first moment of emotion she was very near abandoning herself to my transports; but she soon recovered the strength with which she had armed herself.

"Well, yes," she said, kissing me on the forehead; "yes, I love you, and I have loved you for a long while. It was because I loved you that I refused to marry Lanfranchi, for I could not make up my mind to place an everlasting obstacle between you and me. It was because I loved you that I endured Montalegri's love, fearing that I might succumb to my passion for you, and being determined to combat it; it was because I loved you that I sent him away, being unable to endure longer that love which I did not share; it is because I love you that I am still determined not to give way to what I feel to-day; for I propose to give you proofs of a veritable love, and I owe to your pride, so long humbled, some other recompense than vain caresses, another title than that of lover."

I did not understand that language. What other title than that of lover could I desire, what greater happiness than that of possessing such a mistress? I had had some absurd moments of pride and frenzy, but at that time I was unhappy, I did not think that she loved me.

"So long as you do love me," I cried; "so long as you tell me so as you do now, in the mystery of darkness, and every evening, out of sight of the curious and envious, give me a kiss as you did just now; so long as you are mine in secret, in God's bosom, shall I not be prouder and happier than the Doge of Venice? What more do I need than to live beside you and to know that you belong to me? Ah! let all the world remain in ignorance of it; I do not need to make others jealous in order to be happy beyond words, and the opinion of other people is not necessary to the pride and joy of my heart."

"And yet," replied Bianca, "it will humiliate you to be my servant after this, will it not?"

"I was humiliated this morning," I cried; "to-morrow I shall be proud of it."

"What!" she said, "would you not despise me if, after abandoning myself to your love, I should leave you in a state of degradation?"

"There can be no degradation in serving one who loves me," I replied. "If you were my wife, do you think that I would allow anybody but myself to carry you? Could I think of anything except taking care of you and amusing you? Salomé is not humiliated to be in your service, and yet you do not love her as much as you love me, _signora mia_?"

"O my noble-hearted boy!" cried Bianca, pressing my head against her breast with deep emotion; "O pure and unselfish soul! Who will dare now to say that there are no great hearts save those that are born in palaces! Who will dare deny the honor and saintliness of these plebeian natures, ranked so low by our hateful prejudices and our absurd disdain! You are the only man who ever loved me for myself alone, the only man whose aim was not my rank or my fortune!--Very well! you shall share them both, you shall make me forget the miseries of my first marriage, and replace with your rustic name the hateful name of Aldini, which I bear with regret! You shall command my vassals and be at once the lord of my estates and the master of my life. Nello, will you marry me?"

If the earth had opened under my feet, or if the skies had fallen on my head, I could not have experienced a more violent shock of amazement than that which struck me dumb in the face of such a question. When I had recovered somewhat from my stupefaction, I do not know what reply I made, for my head was going round, and it was impossible for me to think coherently. All that my natural good sense could do was to put aside honors too heavy for my age and my inexperience. Bianca insisted.

"Listen," she said; "I am not happy. My cheerfulness has long been a cloak for intense suffering, until now, as you see, I am ill and can no longer conceal my ennui. My position in society is false and very distasteful to me; my position in my own esteem is worse still, and God is dissatisfied with me. You know that I am not of patrician descent. Torquato Aldini married me on account of the great fortune my father had amassed in business. That haughty nobleman never saw in me anything more than the instrument of his fortune, he never deigned to treat me as his equal; some of his relatives encouraged him in maintaining the absurd and cruel attitude of lord and master which he assumed toward me at the outset; others blamed him severely for having contracted a misalliance in order to pay his debts, and treated him coldly after his marriage. After his death they all refused to see me, and I found myself without any family; for by entering the family of a noble I had forfeited the esteem and affection of my own people. I had married Torquato for love, and those of my relatives who did not consider me insane believed me to be guided by foolish vanity and vile ambition. That is why, despite my wealth and my youth and an obliging and inoffensive disposition, you see my salons almost empty and my social circle so restricted. I have some warm friends, and their company satisfies my heart. But I am entirely unfamiliar with the intoxication of society at large, and it has not treated me so well that I am called upon to sacrifice my happiness to it. I know that by marrying you I shall draw down upon myself not its indifference simply but its irrevocable malediction. Do not be alarmed; you see that it is a very trifling sacrifice on my part."

"But why marry me?" said I. "Why invite that malediction to no purpose? for I do not need your fortune to be happy, nor do you need a solemn contract on my part to be sure that I shall love you forever."

"Whether you are my husband or my lover," Bianca replied, "the world will find it out all the same, and I shall be cursed and despised none the less. Since your love must necessarily, in one way or the other, separate me altogether from society, I desire at least to be reconciled to God, and to find in this love of mine, sanctified by the Church, the strength to despise society as it despises me. I have lived in sin for a long while, I have sinned without adding to my happiness, I have risked my salvation and have not found gladness of heart. Now I have found it and I wish to enjoy it, stainless and cloudless; I wish to sleep, free from remorse, on the bosom of the man I love; I wish to be able to say to the world: 'It is you who destroy and corrupt hearts. Nello's love has saved and purified me, and I have a refuge against you; God permitted me to love Nello, and bids me love him until death.'"

Bianca talked to me a long while in this strain. There was weakness, childishness and pure goodness in these ingenuous plottings of her pride, her love and her piety. I was not very strong myself. It was not long since I had been accustomed to kneel, night and morning, on my father's boat, before the image of St. Anthony painted on the sail; and although the beautiful women of Venice diverted my thoughts sadly in the basilica, I never missed attending mass, and I still had on my neck the scapulary my mother hung there as she gave me her blessing on the day I left Chioggia. So I allowed Signora Aldini to triumph over my scruples and persuade me; and without further resistance or promises, I passed the night at her feet, as submissive as a child to her religious scruples, intoxicated with the pleasure of simply kissing her hand and inhaling the perfume of her fan. It was a lovely night. The twinkling stars trembled in the little pools which the tide had left on the marsh; the breeze murmured in the green grasses. From time to time we saw in the distance the light of a gondola gliding over the waves, but it did not occur to us to call for help. The voice of the Adriatic breaking on the farther shore of the Lido reached our ears, monotonous and majestic. We indulged in countless enchanting dreams; we formed countless deliciously trivial plans. The moon sank slowly and was shrouded in the dark waves on the horizon, like a chaste virgin in her winding-sheet. We were as chaste as she, and she seemed to glance at us with a friendly expression before plunging into the sea.

But soon the cold made itself felt, and a sheet of white mist spread over the marsh. I closed the _camerino_ and wrapped Bianca in my red cape. I sat down beside her, put my arms about her to shelter her, and warmed her arms and hands with my breath. A delicious calm seemed to have descended upon her heart since she had almost extorted from me a promise to marry her. She rested her head lightly on my shoulder. The night was far advanced; for more than six hours we had poured forth the ardent love of our hearts in tender and impassioned words. A pleasant sensation of weariness stole over me as well, and we fell asleep in each other's arms, as pure as the dawn that was beginning to appear on the horizon. It was our wedding-night--our only night of love; a spotless night, which was never repeated, and its memory never marred.

Loud voices woke me. I ran to the bow of the gondola and saw several men approaching us. At the usual time of starting out to fish, a family of fishermen had discovered the stranded craft, and they assisted me to drag her to the Marana Canal, whence I rowed rapidly to the palace.

How happy I was as I placed my foot on the first step! I thought no more of the palace than of Bianca's fortune; but I had her in my arms who thenceforth was my property, my life, my mistress in the noble and blessed sense of the word! But my joy ended there. Salomé appeared in the doorway of that terror-stricken house, where no one had closed an eye during the night. Salomé was pale, and it was evident that she had been weeping; it was probably the only time in her life. She did not venture to question her mistress: perhaps she had already read upon my brow the reason why the night had seemed so short to me. It had been long enough to all the occupants of the palace. They all believed that some horrible accident had befallen their dear mistress. A number of them had wandered about all night, looking for us; others had passed the time in prayer, burning little tapers before the image of the Virgin. When their anxiety was allayed and their curiosity gratified, I noticed that their thoughts took another direction and their faces a different expression. They scrutinized my face--the women especially--with insulting eagerness. As for Salomé's expression, it was so withering that I could not endure it. Mandola arrived from the country in the midst of the commotion. He understood in an instant what was going on, and, putting his mouth to my ear, begged me to be prudent. I pretended not to know what he meant; I did my best to submit with an air of innocence to the investigations of the others. But in a few moments I was unable to endure my anxiety, and I went into Bianca's room.

I found her weeping bitterly beside her daughter's bed. The child had been awakened in the middle of the night by the noise of the constant going and coming of the frightened servants. She had listened to their comments on the signora's prolonged absence, and, believing that her mother was drowned, she had gone into convulsions. She had barely become calm when I entered, and Bianca was blaming herself for the child's suffering, as if she had wilfully caused it.

"O my Bianca," I said to her, "be comforted and rejoice because your child and all those about you love you so passionately. I will love you even more than they do, so that you may be the happiest of women."

"Do not say that the others love me," she replied with some bitterness. "It seems to me that under their breaths they are calling this love of mine, which they have already divined, a crime. Their glances are insulting to me, their words wound me, and I greatly fear that they have let slip some imprudent remark in my daughter's hearing. Salomé is openly impertinent to me this morning. It is high time for me to put an end to these insolent comments on my conduct. You see, Nello, they look upon my loving you as a crime, and they approved of my supposed love for the avaricious Lanfranchi. They are all low-minded or foolish creatures. I must inform them this very day that I passed the night, not with my lover, but with my husband. It is the only way to make them respect you and refrain from betraying me."

I dissuaded her from acting so hastily. I reminded her that she might perhaps repent; that she had not reflected sufficiently; that I myself needed time to consider her offer seriously; and that she had not sufficiently weighed the consequences of her decision, with respect to its possible future effect upon her daughter. I obtained her promise to be patient and to act prudently.

It was impossible for me to form an enlightened judgment regarding my situation. It was intoxicating, and I was a mere boy. Nevertheless, a sort of instinctive repugnance warned me to distrust the fascinations of love and fortune. I was excited, anxious, torn between desire and fear. In the brilliant destiny that was offered me, I saw but one thing--possession of the woman I loved. All the wealth by which she was surrounded was not even an accessory to my happiness, it was a disagreeable condition for me in my heedlessness to accept. I was like one who has never suffered and can conceive of no better or worse state than that in which he has always lived. In the Aldini Palace I was free and happy. Petted by all alike, permitted to gratify all my whims, I had no responsibility, nothing to fatigue my body or my mind. Singing, sleeping, and boating, that was substantially the whole of my life, and you Venetians who are listening to me know whether any life is sweeter or better adapted to our indolent and careless natures. I imagined the rôle of husband and master as something analogous to the superintendence exercised by Salomé over household affairs, and such a rôle was very far from flattering my ambition. That palace, of which I had the freedom, was my property in the pleasantest sense of the word: I enjoyed all its pleasures without any of its cares. Let my mistress add the joys of love, and I should be the King of Italy.

Another thing that disheartened me was Salomé's gloomy air and the embarrassed, mysterious and suspicious demeanor of the other servants. There were many of them, and they were all excellent people, who had treated me hitherto as a child of the family. In that silent reprobation which I felt hovering over me, there was a warning which I could not, which I did not wish to disdain; for, while it was due in some measure to a natural feeling of jealousy, it was dictated even more by the affectionate interest which the signora inspired.

What would I not have given in those moments of dire perplexity to have a judicious adviser? But I did not know whom to apply to, and I was the sole confidant of my mistress's secrets. She passed the day in bed with her daughter, and sent for me the next day, to repeat to me all that she had said on the marsh. All the time that she was speaking to me, it seemed to me that she was right, and that she had a triumphant answer to all my scruples; but when I was alone again, my distress and irresolution returned.

I went up into the gallery and threw myself upon a chair. My eyes wandered absent-mindedly from one to another of that long line of ancestors whose portraits formed the only heritage that Torquato Aldini had been able to bequeath to his daughter. Their smoke-begrimed faces, their beards, cut square, and pointed, and diamond-shaped, their black velvet robes and ermine-lined cloaks, gave them an imposing and depressing aspect. Almost all had been senators, procurators, or councillors; there was a multitude of uncles who had been inquisitors; those of least consequence were minor canons or _capitani grandi_. At the end of the gallery was the figure-head of the last galley fitted out against the Turks by Tiberio Aldini, Torquato's grandfather, in the days when the powerful nobles of the republic went to war at their own expense, and esteemed it glorious to place their property and persons voluntarily at the service of their country. It was a tall glass lantern, set in gilded copper, surmounted and supported by metal scroll-work of curious design, and with ornaments so placed that the bow of the vessel ended in a point. Above each portrait was a long oak bas-relief, reciting the glorious deeds of the illustrious personage beneath. It occurred to me that, if we should have war, and the opportunity should be offered me to fight for my country, I should be as patriotic and as brave as all those noble aristocrats. It seemed to me to be neither very extraordinary nor very meritorious to do great things when one was rich and powerful, and I said to myself that the trade of great nobleman could not be very difficult. But in those days, we were not at war, nor were we likely to be. The republic was merely a meaningless word, its might a mere shadow, and its enervated patricians had no elements of grandeur except their names. It was the more difficult to rise to their level in their opinion, because it was so easy to surpass them in reality. Therefore to enter into a contest with their prejudices and their contempt was unworthy of a true man, and the plebeians were fully justified in despising those among themselves who thought that they exalted themselves by seeking admission to fashionable society and aping the absurdities of the nobles.

These reflections passed through my mind confusedly at first; then they became more distinct, and I found that I could think, as I had found one fine morning that I could sing. I began to understand the repugnance I felt at the thought of leaving my proper station in life to make a spectacle of myself in society as a vain and ambitious fellow; and I determined to bury my love-affair with Bianca in the most profound mystery.

Absorbed by these reflections, I walked along the gallery, glancing proudly at that haughty race whose succession was disdained by a child of the people, a boatman from Chioggia. I felt very happy; I thought of my old father, and as I remembered the old house, long forgotten and neglected, my eyes filled with tears. I found myself at the end of the gallery, face to face with Messer Torquato, and for the first time I scrutinized him boldly from head to foot. He was the very incarnation of hereditary nobility. His glance seemed to drive one back like the point of a sword, and his hand looked as if it had never opened except to impose a command on his inferiors. I took pleasure in flouting him. "Well!" I said to him mentally, "whatever you might have done, I would never have been your servant. Your domineering air would not have frightened me, and I would have looked you in the face as I look at this canvas. You would never have obtained any hold on me, because my heart is prouder than yours ever was, because I despise this gold before which you bowed, because I am a greater man than you in the eyes of the woman you possessed. In spite of all your pride of birth, you bent the knee to her to obtain her wealth; and when you were rich through her, you crushed and humbled her. That is the conduct of a dastard, and mine is worthy of a genuine noble, for I want none of Bianca's wealth except her heart, of which you were not worthy. And I refuse what you implored, so that I may possess that which is precious above all things in my eyes, Bianca's esteem. And I shall obtain it, for she will understand the vast superiority of my heart to a debt-ridden patrician's. I have no patrimony to redeem, you see! There is no mortgage on my father's fishing-boat; and the clothes I wear are my own, because I earned them by my toil. Very good! I shall be the benefactor, not the debtor, because I shall restore happiness and life to that heart which you broke, because I, servant and lover, shall succeed in winning blessings and honor, while you, nobleman and husband, were cursed and despised."

A slight sound caused me to turn my head. I saw little Alezia behind me; she was crossing the gallery, dragging a doll larger than herself. I loved the child, despite her haughty nature, because of her love for her mother. I tried to kiss her; but, as if she felt in the atmosphere the disgrace which had been weighing upon me in that house for two days past, she drew back with an offended air, and crouched against her father's portrait, as if she had some reason to fear me. I was instantly struck by the resemblance which her pretty little dark face bore to Torquato's haughty features, and I stopped to examine her more closely, with a feeling of profound sadness. She seemed to me to be scrutinizing me attentively at the same time. Suddenly she broke the silence to say to me in a tone of great bitterness, and with an indignant expression beyond her years:

"Why have you stolen my papa's ring?"

As she spoke, she pointed with her tiny finger at a beautiful diamond ring, mounted in the old style, which her mother had given me several days before, and which I had been childish enough to accept; then she turned and, standing on tiptoe, placed her finger on one of the fingers in the portrait which was adorned with the same ring accurately copied; and I discovered that the imprudent Bianca had presented her gondolier with one of her husband's most valuable family jewels.

The blood rose in my cheeks, as I received from that child a lesson which disgusted me more than ever with ill-gotten wealth. I smiled and handed her the ring:

"Your mamma dropped it off her finger," I said, "and I found it just now in the gondola."

"I will take it to her," said the child, snatching rather than taking it from my hand. She ran away, leaving her doll on the floor. I picked up the plaything to make sure of a little circumstance which I had often noticed before. Alezia was in the habit of running a long pin through the heart of every doll she owned, and sometimes she would sit for hours at a time, absorbed in the profound and silent pleasure of that strange amusement.

In the evening Mandola came to my room. He seemed awkward and embarrassed. He had much to say to me, but he could not find a word. His expression was so curious that I roared with laughter.

"You are doing wrong, Nello," he said with a pained look on his face; "I am your friend; you are doing wrong!"

He turned to go, but I ran after him and tried to make him explain himself; it was impossible. I saw that his heart was full of sage reflections and good advice; but he lacked words in which to express himself, and all his abortive sentences, in his patois in which all languages were mingled, ended with these words:

"_E molto delica, delicatissimo._"

At last I succeeded in making out that the rumor of my approaching marriage to the signora was current in the house. A few impatient words which some one had heard her say to Salomé were sufficient to put that rumor in circulation. The signora had said just this, speaking of me: "The time is not far away when you will take orders from him instead of giving him orders."--I obstinately denied that these words had any such meaning, and pretended that I did not understand them at all.

"Very good," said Mandola; "that's the answer you ought to make, even to me, although I am your friend. But I have eyes of my own; I don't ask you any questions, I never have done it, Nello! but I came to warn you that you must be prudent. The Aldinis are just looking for an excuse for taking the guardianship of Signora Alezia away from the signora, and she will die of grief if they take her child away from her."

"What do you say?" I cried; "what? they will take her daughter away because of me?"

"If you were to marry her, certainly," replied the worthy gondolier; "_otherwise_--as there are some things that can't be proved,--"

"Especially when they don't exist," I rejoined warmly.

"You speak as you should speak," replied Mandola; "continue to be on your guard; trust nobody, not even me, and if you have any influence over the signora, urge her to hide her feelings, especially from Salomé. Salomé will never betray her; but her voice is too loud, and when she quarrels with the signora, everybody in the house hears what they say. If any of the signora's friends should suspect what is happening, everything would go wrong; for friends aren't like servants; they don't know how to keep a secret, and yet people trust their friends more than they do us!"

Honest Mandola's advice was not to be despised, especially as it was in perfect accord with my instinct. The next evening we took the signora to the Zueca Canal, and Mandola, understanding that I had something to say to her, obligingly fell asleep at his post. I put out the light, stole into the cabin, and talked a long while with Bianca. She was surprised by my objections and said everything that she considered likely to overcome them. I spoke firmly, I told her that I would never allow it to be said of me that I had married a woman for her wealth; that I cared as much for the good name of my family as any patrician in Venice; that my kinsmen would never forgive me if I afforded any such cause for scandal, and that I did not propose either to fall out with my dear old father or to make trouble between the signora and her daughter; for she ought to and doubtless did care more for Alezia than for all the world beside. This last argument was more powerful than any other. She burst into tears and poured forth her admiration for me and gratitude to me with the enthusiasm of passion.

From that day peace reigned once more in the Aldini Palace. That little secondary society had passed through its revolutionary crisis. It had its own peacemaker, and I laughed to myself at my rôle of great citizen, with childlike heroism. Mandola, who was beginning to acquire some education, was amazed to see me engage in the hardest sort of work, and would call me under his breath, with a paternal air, his Cincinnatus or his Pompilius.

I had in fact resolved--and I kept steadfastly to my resolution--not to accept the slightest favor from a woman whose lover I wished to be. Inasmuch as the only means of possessing her in secret was to remain in her house on the footing of a servant, it seemed to me that I could re-establish equality between her and myself by making my services correspond to my wages. Hitherto my wages had been large and entirely out of proportion to my work, which, for some time past, had been absolutely nothing. I determined to make up for lost time. I set about keeping things in order, cleaning, doing errands, bringing wood and water, polishing and brushing the gondola--in a word, doing the work of ten men; and I did it cheerfully, humming my most beautiful operatic airs and my noblest epic strophes. The task that afforded me the most amusement was the taking care of the family pictures and brushing off the dust which obscured Torquato's majestic glance every morning. When I had completed his toilet, I would remove my cap with profound respect and ironically repeat to him some parody of my heroic verses.