University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.

`Let us forth, Anina,' said Antonio to his betrothed,
who was seated, in a pensive attitude, near the
window, and feigning to watch the coming on of
evening over the sky, though the tears which filled
her eyes might have betrayed, to a nearer observer,
that the object of her vision was meditative and
within,—`Let us forth, and if the eve of parting cannot
be joyous, our sadness will not be increased if

its hours be passed in rambling where we have been
wont, at this very hour, to yield up our spirits, in
glad unison, to the blest influences of nature. Let
me once more renew the brightest associations of my
being, in beholding, with the clear perception of
expectant separation, the river's bank, whereon I
vented, in sportive glee, the gay spirit of boyhood;
the square where, with the music of the Pergola just
dying on my ear, I have so often paused, in the still
air of midnight, and fancied that the old statues
moved in the gloom,—and the garden, ay, the garden-mount,
whence we have gazed beyond the cypress
grove and the river, and seen the sun go down
behind the hills; in these scenes, which I am so soon
to exchange for a strange country, let us linger away
the moments, till the hour approaches which calls
me from Florence and from thee!'

They were soon threading the gaily-peopled walk
of the Cacine, their desultory converse or silent
musings being, ever and anon, interrupted by the
passing salutation of numerous acquaintances. Occasionally,
too, a friend, mindful of Antonio's approaching
departure, would leave the party whose
companionship was enlivening the evening promenade,
accompany them for a space, and then, with a
buona sera, uttered with more than usual tenderness,
and that expressive though silent indication of
delicate sympathy which distinguishes the natural
language of the Tuscans, glide away from the

thoughtful pair. They experienced a sensation of
relief when the shades of evening advanced, and the
walk became more solitary. At that season, even
the kindly words of friendship disturbed rather than
solaced. The moonlight fell in soothing luxuriance
upon the almost inaudible ripple of the Arno, as they
approached one of the bridges which span its waters.
There are memorable instances of effect produced
by the combination and mutual influence of nature
and art. One of the most beautiful imaginable
now, familiar though it was, arrested the attention of
Anina and her companion. The bridge of Santa
Trinita, in the light which now revealed it, seemed
suspended by the spell of fancy, rather than supported
by deeply laid pillars and massive workmanship.
So symmetrically and gracefully are hung its arches,
that the idea of weight is banished from the mind of
the spectator. Its aerial form, antiquated hue, and
white escutcheons, about which the weeds of age are
clustered, form an image that serves admirably to
relieve the aspect of the heavier architecture around.
They paused, and, leaning upon the parapet, Anina
broke the silence which they had almost involuntarily
suffered to prevail. `I know not how it is, Antonio,
but this spot seems singularly associated with
the prominent shades of my destiny. Do you remember
the story my old nurse tells? One evening
she was conveying me home from the Porta Fedriano,
where we had been to see the cavalcade of the
Duke; we did not leave the house of Signor Andrea,
from the window of which we had seen the pageant,
until the crowd had quite dispersed. Yet the Lung'
Arno was quite thronged, and several gentlemen on
horseback were reining in their steeds here upon the
bridge, and endeavouring to make their way harmlessly
through the throng; poor Bianca was hurrying
on to avoid danger—when I persisted in stopping
to drop a crazia into the old poverino's hat.
Meantime the tumult increased; a carriage, in addition
to the crowd, now blocked up the way; the
horses became more restive, and volumes of sparks
flashed from the polished flags beneath their feet.
Bianca, murmuring our old proverb, uomini sopra
cavalli, sepolti sono aperti,[1] drew me from the expectant
beggar and was hastily carrying me forward,
when the carriage started, and the Count P's. horse,
notwithstanding the curb, sprang after it, and threw
Bianca and her unruly burden upon the pavement.
The Count instantly dismounted, and leaving his
horse with a groom, hastened toward me. Bianca
was more alarmed than injured, but I was taken up
insensible. At this sight he seemed deeply distressed,
and taking me in his arms, bore me directly to
the Caffé di Colonna. The restoratives applied
restored me; and, to the relief of the Count, I
was soon on my way home, forgetting, in contemplating
the comfits he had given me, the slight contusion
which the accident had occasioned. You
know the consequence of this event—how the kindhearted
man visited us the next day, and through his
influence with the Duke, obtained for my brother
the office which has since so comfortably supported
us. Nor is this all, my Tonino; here, on this
bridge, at such an hour—'

`Were our vows first plighted!'—exclaimed Antonio;
`and, O, Anina, let the memory of all we are
to each other come over us anew, now that from this
green spot of life we gaze over the desert of absence.
Strange! alas, how strange, that necessity thus forces
me forth from my home; and such a home! Before I
knew thee, Anina, I knew not myself. The external,
the exciting, the whirl of passion—this was
what I called life. The fountains around me were
perverted by the lips they would have refreshed.
Nature!—her voice was lost. Music!—I loved only
her most tragic inspiration; the pathos,—the soft,
stealing melody which delights me now, then but
irritated and inflamed. I was a wanderer in a wild
scene, such as Salvator loved to depict; a light step
aroused me—I looked up—and in the light of thine
eye a new world opened;—the peaceful yet deep
sense of joy which comes over the soul when pondering
on one of the Madonnas of Raffaelo, played
around my heart, and threw the rosy quiet of a summer
evening over the restless deep within. Wonder

not that I hasten from thee with forebodings---that
I mourn that my day of peace is so soon to be superseded
by one of lone travailing---for thou knowest
my impetuous spirit must unfold itself. Thy memory,
the hope of return, confidence in the love
of such a heart---will such consolations ever fail or
disappoint me?'

Anina had listened in the attitude and with the
expression of one in whose mind a prevailing sentiment
precluded the admission of minor emotions.
She had lifted her gaze from the glittering element
below as he proceeded; the constrained smile, and
disposition to withdraw her own and his thoughts
from dismal anticipations, which had pervaded her
manner, at the commencement of the interview, now
gave place to an expression indicative of high purpose.
Her Tuscan hat shaded without obscuring her
features, as she stood erect in the full light of the
careering luminary. She was above the ordinary
height of the women of her country, and her figure,
when in repose, might have suggested to the experienced
eye of a continental sojourner, the idea of a
more northern extraction than she boasted. Her
dress, too, with the exception of the hat, bore no
distinctive indications whereby a stranger could have
directly surmised that she claimed affinity with the
denizens of the Etrurian Athens. But one glance
at the countenance would have dispelled the illusion
of the casual observer. The complexion, the hair,

and, above all, the peculiar depth and expressive fire
of the eye, proclaimed Anina a legitimate daughter
of Italy.

`Antonio,' she replied, `there is nothing but the
thought of what we shall gain by this separation,
that, with the blessing of the Virgin, enables me to
think of it calmly. I feel that my presence has
proved but a sad inspiration to your pencil; and
when I remember what was prophesied of your
genius, but a year since, I feel almost as if expiating
a sin in resigning you to the full influence of absence
from every thing which will enervate the energy,
or distract the attention of your mind; then I feel it
will pour itself forth in the exercise of your art; and
who may predict the result? This—this must comfort
me, when left to abide ceaseless opposition,
while my Tonino is winning afar what will satisfy
the views of others, though it cannot alter my own;
there, if ever he gives a thought, amid his busy
hours, to—to—' and at the mere idea of her lover's
forgetfulness, she passed, Italian-like, from a high
and womanly seeming, to the distrustful sadness of
a child;—she abruptly paused, and the tears flowed
freely. It was now for Antonio to rise to a higher
strain of feeling; with the ardent gesture and impassioned
utterance characteristic of his country, he
soon unburthened his oppressed heart, and changed
the mood of the listener. `And now, Anina,'—he
continued, `let us move homeward. Forget not,
twice every month, to place in the hands of our

faithful Ipolito, tidings of your welfare, which will
steal like rays of sunlight across my solitary pathway;—nor
shall the old man fail to bring thee tokens
of the fidelity and experience of thy betrothed. Let
us go.' They left the bridge; and the first glimmering
of dawn found Antonio sitting, accoutred as
a traveller, his passport beside him, his trunk at his
feet, and himself inditing yet another addio to one
who, at that moment, was looking tearfully from
her casement, starting at the distant rumbling of a
vettura rolling along the deserted streets, and as it
died away, breathing a prayer for the safe return
of her lover.