University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.

The rays of sunlight fell obliquely upon the Lung
'Arno, where a goodly concourse were moving to
and fro, or conversing in stationary groups. It was
evidently one of those days when the Italian yields
himself, with especial freedom, to the `dolce far
niente.' Nodding and smiling, with a buona festa
for as many of the gay throng as glanced at her
playful demeanour, the flower-girl distributed her
violets embedded in leaves of geranium; the blind
man touched his guitar, while an urchin beside
him accompanied the monotonous strains with the
constant invocation `dartemi qualchecosa,' and the
licensed pauper rattled his tin cup, and implored
the lightsome beings who glided by—`per amore di
Dio'—to give of their substance. The equipage of
the Grand Duke passed rapidly from the palace toward
the Cacine; but the Grand Duke himself preferred
a promenade to a ride with the ladies of his
household, as one might learn from the universal and
respectful recognition manifested by the crowd of
pedestrians toward the gentleman in a brown coat,
so plainly fashioned, that it would infallibly obtain
for him the cognomen of Quaker, in certain localities
far beyond the limits of his own little duchy.

Two disputants, beginning to perceive that their war
of words was becoming too obstreperous for the
scene and occasion, hastily emerged from the crowd,
into an open and comparatively vacant square, in
order to renew their colloquy at ease. Thither we
will follow.

`Mark me, Carlo, I speak of the action, the expression,
the performance throughout, and I speak
of Ronzi when she is herself.'

`And then you will persist, Luigi, in maintaining
that Malibran is surpassed in the Norma?'

`That will I, caro mio, against whoever will gainsay
it.'

`Thou hast then undertaken to oppose thy single
judgment to the universal sentiment. Hast heard
of Garcia's adventure at Arezzo?'

`And was not I one of the torch-bearing multitude
that attended cara Ronzi home from the Pergola?
But to the point, amico mio; didst thou not perceive,
last night, in her speaking countenance, every
minute shade of varying expression? Did not her
commanding figure, dignified air, eloquent eyes,
and, above all, her mellifluous voice, bring home to
thee most touchingly the passionate ideas involved
in the Norma?'

`I tell thee, Luigi, that Italy has settled the question;
thou art dreaming of Ronzi as she was. Malibran
is in her prime, and Europe has awarded her
the palm.'

`There are those in Florence, Carlo, without the

precinets of thy wine-shop, who would contend with
thee on that point.'

`Not one, save thyself, Luigi.'

`Santissima Virgine! there was but one voice
in the parterre, on the first representation.'

`Ah, poverino! thy wits are unsettled by music;
thus thou speakest of each prima donna in turn;
she is always better than all who preceded. But
caro, thou shalt not make all Firenze share thy perversity.
Nay, have patience; thou shalt be convinced.
If the first passer-by who hath seen the
Norma, as performed by both, doth not agree with
me, then Carlo Pisani will do thy bidding, so that it
be not to displease a customer, nor to break law.'

`I am content.'

`Here is a grave and stately cavalier;—ah, he
would light his cigar.' `Ecco Signor,' said Carlo,
approaching the stranger, and proffering his flint;—
`Signor, can'st say if there will be any necessity for
entering the parterre an hour before the time, tonight?'

`Is not the Norma inimitably executed?' said
Luigi.

`I have so seen it.'

`And by La Malibran?' inquired Carlo.

`By her superior in that character, at least,' was
the reply.

`Bravo!' exclaimed Luigi. `There, Carlo,' he
added triumphantly, `you see De Begnis has one
more votary.'

`That one is not me,' said the cavalier.

It was now Luigi's turn to feel disappointed.
`Prithee, Signor,' he continued, `who dost thou
think is inimitable in the Norma?'

`Signora Pasta.'

`Excuse me, you are a—'

`Milanese,' replied the stately gentleman, as he
walked away, complacently exhaling the fragrant
smoke.

The smile and the shrug of the amused friends
were scarcely enacted with true Italian expressiveness,
when their attention was directed to the advancing
figure of a primly attired old man. Luigi recognized
him as an acquaintance from Prato, and
after they had interchanged a greeting, asked if he
had visited the city to attend the Opera. `Not altogether,'
he answered. Carlo felt again encouraged.
`Doubtless,' continued Luigi, `you think our prima
donna cannot be sufficiently admired?'

`I ne'er knew but one of whom I could thus
speak,' said the old gentleman, `and she is yonder.'

`At rehearsal?' asked Luigi, hopefully.

`Does Catalani rehearse for her private entertainments?
I had thought that, in her villa in the environs,
music was wholly a pastime.'

`C'e caduto il formaggio su maccaroni'[2] said

Carlo, pointing to the opposite street. `Here comes
Signor Bartolomeo, who, thou well knowest, is uninfluenced
by local prejudice, and not so old as to
sympathize only in retired opera-performers; for
thy comfort, too, know, Luigi, that he is a connoisseur
in dramatic as well as in musical efforts.'

`And thou art not aware of his opinion of Ronzi?'

`Only generally, and not in the Norma.'

`Pardon, Signor,' said Luigi, as he took the hand
of the new comer, `tell me how you are pleased with
Bellini's new opera and its present representation.'

`It is a glorious thing, and who can do it greater
justice than the still beautiful—'

`Malibran Garcia, interrupted Carlo.

`Ronzi de Begnis,' exclaimed Bartolomeo.

`Name thy requirement,' said Carlo, looking impatiently
at Luigi.

`To-morrow,' said his friend, smilingly; `I must
consider; but fear not. I shall not be very severe;
and, for the present, addio.'

Ascending one of the neighbouring elevations,
whence is obtainable an extensive view embracing
the thickly clustered dwellings of Florence, her
mammoth Duomo, and the adjoining and encircling
Apennine, Luigi came upon a quiet road walled on
one side and overlooking, on the other, a broad valley
covered with olive trees, and containing several
villas and small dwellings. Here, during most of
the day, the sun exerts its full influence, and the
walled hill-side shields the solitary road from the

wind; and here, in view of the soothing landscape,
an elderly and somewhat portly man, with a countenance
bland in its aspect, though slightly shaded
with seriousness, was enjoying a retired promenade.
He was so intently occupied with his own thoughts,
as not to be aware of Luigi's presence until the latter
had audibly saluted him.

`One would think, Signor Ipolito, that thou wert
not the guardian of Firenze's fairest daughter, judging
from thy sober visage and unwontedly lonely
walk.'

`And it may be, Luigi mio, that what thou deemest
a consoling office (and God knows it hath been)
can become the occasion of anxious musings.'

`Has aught inauspicious, caro, happened to thy
charge? Ne'er have I seen a more beauteous and
joyful face than was hers, when last I saw her in the
arbour-walks of the Boboli.'

`The poor child is harassed, Luigi, by one who
should prize her peace beyond the vagaries of prideful
hope.'

`Ah! I understand you. The old lady still opposes
the addresses of Antonio. Corpo di Bacco!
she may wait till too late, to realize her fond project
of uniting Anina to one of noble birth. True, she
sacrificed her own wealth and nobility to the good
Francisco that's gone; but 'tis scarcely fair to force
poor Anina to regain them with the sacrifice of her
affections.'

`It is the mother's inconsistency that provokes

me. High birth has been her sine qua non when the
name of Anina was mentioned in connection with
matrimony. And the lack of this has been the only
fault she could find with Antonio; for a kindlier and
more gifted giovenotto is not to be found in Florence.
Yet at our last conversazione, when all the
company were talking of the artist with whose fame
London is ringing, the Marchioness, glad of an opportunity
to depreciate Antonio, said to me, “Signor
Ipolito, thou hast often told me that Anina's absent
admirer possessed nobility of soul and of intellect, if
not of birth; why could not he manage to get imprisoned
and astonish the world with his painting,
as well as this unknown Florentine, if he indeed be
one?”

`Were it so, Signora mia, I replied, thou wouldst
not think better of him, for he would still be a plebeian.

“`I tell thee,” exclaimed she, energetically,
“Anina should marry him.”

“`Why, mother,” said Anina timidly, “the artist
would still be Antonio—a mere native of Florence.
Tell me in what differs Carmilini, in this respect,
from the famed artist who is even known only as a
Florentine?”

“`As the Florentine, you mean,” returned the
Signora, with emphasis. And therein, Luigi, did she
find an attraction equal even to her much-loved family
greatness. Oh, it is a mere vain ambition that
divides Antonio and Anina. Ere long, the Miseri

cordia must take away their old brother, and I
could die more peacefully, was Anina under the
conjugal protection of such a man as Antonio.
I did trust that this day month, when she will attend
her cousin Beatrice to the altar, would see them also
united. Would that parental opposition were the
sole trouble, or that she had a more powerful friend
than old Ipolito!'

`And would that the friendship I bear thee entitled
me to share thy perplexities.'

`Luigi, thou shalt know all, though it is vain to
expect a secret kept in Florence. Yet thou can'st
surely restrain thy tongue when the happiness of
such an one as Anina is involved.'

`Trust me,—per St. Giovanni—'

`Bene. Know, then, that Antonio had a goodly
quantity of our Florence wines sent to London; for
(would you believe it?) they tell me a flask of Aleatico
costs two or three francisconi there;—and Tonino
rightly fancied such a luxury would furnish an
acceptable gift to his English friends. The first he
presented nearly destroyed a nobleman; suspicion
was excited; the wines were examined, and found to
contain poison. For a long time I have been sifting
the matter secretly, for Tonino charges me to be circumspect
lest Anina learns his peril; and makes as
light as possible of the danger by which he is surrounded.
Carlo Pisani acknowledges he bought the
flasks of an apothecary, and that his people transferred
the wine, by mistake, before they were

cleansed, and several of them contained the sediment
of baneful drugs. Thus the circumstance is explained;
but Carlo will not be persuaded to furnish an
affidavit to the facts which will alone avail, until
Antonio's safety absolutely demands it, and such he
is not convinced is the case now; he says such a declaration
from him will ruin his business, and he
knows I am too fearful of the affair being known, to
appeal to the Police. Thus I have been kept at
bay, and I know not what course to adopt. One of
the two evils must be chosen. And each is inimical
either to the wishes or the safety of Antonio.'

The countenance of Luigi brightened. `Thou
hast told thy dilemma,' said he, `to one able to extricate
thee. Ere the post leaves to-morrow, thou
shalt have the affidavit.'

`Think not to persuade Carlo; what means have
you more than I? Explain.'

`Pazienza! He is under a promise. Dine with
me to-morrow at Marché's, and you shall be informed
more fully. Trust me wholly. Hast aught
else to say?'

`Naught, save to thank heaven and thee.'