massimilla doni-第4节
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latest French style； who might have sat for some English fancy
portrait engraved for a /Forget…me…not/； a /Belle Assemblee/； or a
/Book of Beauty/。
The Prince shivered with delight and with fear； for； as you know； he
was in love with Massimilla。 But； in spite of this faith in love which
fired his blood； and which of old inspired the painters of Spain；
which gave Italy her Madonnas； created Michael Angelo's statues and
Ghilberti's doors of the Baptistery；desire had him in its toils； and
agitated him without infusing into his heart that warm； ethereal glow
which he felt at a look or a word from the Duchess。 His soul； his
heart； his reason； every impulse of his will； revolted at the thought
of an infidelity； and yet that brutal； unreasoning infidelity
domineered over his spirit。 But the woman was not alone。
The Prince saw one of those figures in which nobody believes when they
are transferred from real life； where we wonder at them； to the
imaginary existence of a more or less literary description。 The dress
of this stranger； like that of all Neapolitans； displayed five colors；
if the black of his hat may count for a color； his trousers were
olive…brown； his red waistcoat shone with gilt buttons； his coat was
greenish； and his linen was more yellow than white。 This personage
seemed to have made it his business to verify the Neapolitan as
represented by Gerolamo on the stage of his puppet show。 His eyes
looked like glass beads。 His nose； like the ace of clubs； was horribly
long and bulbous； in fact； it did its best to conceal an opening which
it would be an insult to the human countenance to call a mouth；
within； three or four tusks were visible； endowed； as it seemed； with
a proper motion and fitting into each other。 His fleshy ears drooped
by their own weight； giving the creature a whimsical resemblance to a
dog。
His complexion； tainted； no doubt； by various metallic infusions as
prescribed by some Hippocrates； verged on black。 A pointed skull；
scarcely covered by a few straight hairs like spun glass； crowned this
forbidding face with red spots。 Finally； though the man was very thin
and of medium height； he had long arms and broad shoulders。
In spite of these hideous details； and though he looked fully seventy；
he did not lack a certain cyclopean dignity； he had aristocratic
manners and the confident demeanor of a rich man。
Any one who could have found courage enough to study him； would have
seen his history written by base passions on this noble clay degraded
to mud。 Here was the man of high birth； who； rich from his earliest
youth； had given up his body to debauchery for the sake of extravagant
enjoyment。 And debauchery had destroyed the human being and made
another after its own image。 Thousands of bottles of wine had
disappeared under the purple archway of that preposterous nose； and
left their dregs on his lips。 Long and slow digestion had destroyed
his teeth。 His eyes had grown dim under the lamps of the gaming table。
The blood tainted with impurities had vitiated the nervous system。 The
expenditure of force in the task of digestion had undermined his
intellect。 Finally； amours had thinned his hair。 Each vice； like a
greedy heir； had stamped possession on some part of the living body。
Those who watch nature detect her in jests of the shrewdest irony。 For
instance； she places toads in the neighborhood of flowers； as she had
placed this man by the side of this rose of love。
〃Will you play the violin this evening； my dear Duke？〃 asked the
woman； as she unhooked a cord to let a handsome curtain fall over the
door。
〃Play the violin！〃 thought Prince Emilio。 〃What can have happened to
my palazzo？ Am I awake？ Here I am； in that woman's bed； and she
certainly thinks herself at homeshe has taken off her cloak！ Have I；
like Vendramin； inhaled opium； and am I in the midst of one of those
dreams in which he sees Venice as it was three centuries ago？〃
The unknown fair one； seated in front of a dressing…table blazing with
wax lights； was unfastening her frippery with the utmost calmness。
〃Ring for Giulia；〃 said she； 〃I want to get my dress off。〃
At that instant； the Duke noticed that the supper had been disturbed；
he looked round the room； and discovered the Prince's trousers hanging
over a chair at the foot of the bed。
〃Clarina； I will not ring！〃 cried the Duke； in a shrill voice of fury。
〃I will not play the violin this evening； nor tomorrow； nor ever
again〃
〃Ta； ta； ta； ta！〃 sang Clarina； on the four octaves of the same note；
leaping from one to the next with the ease of a nightingale。
〃In spite of that voice； which would make your patron saint Clara
envious； you are really too impudent； you rascally hussy！〃
〃You have not brought me up to listen to such abuse；〃 said she； with
some pride。
〃Have I brought you up to hide a man in your bed？ You are unworthy
alike of my generosity and of my hatred〃
〃A man in my bed！〃 exclaimed Clarina； hastily looking round。
〃And after daring to eat our supper； as if he were at home；〃 added the
Duke。
〃But am I not at home？〃 cried Emilio。 〃I am the Prince of Varese； this
palace is mine。〃
As he spoke； Emilio sat up in bed； his handsome and noble Venetian
head framed in the flowing hangings。
At first Clarina laughedone of those irrepressible fits of laughter
which seize a girl when she meets with an adventure comic beyond all
conception。 But her laughter ceased as she saw the young man； who； as
has been said； was remarkably handsome； though but lightly attired；
the madness that possessed Emilio seized her； too； and； as she had no
one to adore； no sense of reason bridled her sudden fancya Sicilian
woman in love。
〃Although this is the palazzo Memmi； I will thank your Highness to
quit；〃 said the Duke； assuming the cold irony of a polished gentleman。
〃I am at home here。〃
〃Let me tell you； Monsieur le Duc； that you are in my room； not in
your own；〃 said Clarina； rousing herself from her amazement。 〃If you
have any doubts of my virtue； at any rate give me the benefit of my
crime〃
〃Doubts！ Say proof positive； my lady！〃
〃I swear to you that I am innocent；〃 replied Clarina。
〃What； then； do I see in that bed？〃 asked the Duke。
〃Old Ogre！〃 cried Clarina。 〃If you believe your eyes rather than my
assertion； you have ceased to love me。 Go； and do not weary my ears！
Do you hear？ Go； Monsieur le Duc。 This young Prince will repay you the
million francs I have cost you； if you insist。〃
〃I will repay nothing；〃 said Emilio in an undertone。
〃There is nothing due！ A million is cheap for Clara Tinti when a man
is so ugly。 Now； go；〃 said she to the Duke。 〃You dismissed me； now I
dismiss you。 We are quits。〃
At a gesture on Cataneo's part； as he seemed inclined to dispute this
order； which was given with an action worthy of Semiramis；the part
in which la Tinti had won her fame；the prima donna flew at the old
ape and put him out of the room。
〃If you do not leave me in quiet this evening； we never meet again。
And my /never/ counts for more than yours；〃 she added。
〃Quiet！〃 retorted the Duke； with a bitter laugh。 〃Dear idol； it
strikes me that I am leaving you /agitata/！〃
The Duke departed。
His mean spirit was no surprise to Emilio。
Every man who has accustomed himself to some particular taste； chosen
from among the various effects of love； in harmony with his own
nature； knows that no consideration can stop a man who has allowed his
passions to become a habit。
Clarina bounded like a fawn from the door to the bed。
〃A prince； and poor； young； and handsome！〃 cried she。 〃Why； it is a
fairy tale！〃
The Sicilian perched herself on the bed with the artless freedom of an
animal； the yearning of a plant for the sun； the airy motion of a
branch waltzing to the breeze。 As she unbuttoned the wristbands of her
sleeves； she began to sing； not in the pitch that won her the applause
of an audience at the /Fenice/； but in a warble tender with emotion。
Her song was a zephyr carrying the caresses of her love to the heart。
She stole a glance at Emilio； who was as much embarrassed as she； for
this woman of the stage had lost all the boldness that had sparkled in
her eyes and given decision to her voice and gestures when she
dismissed the Duke。 She was as humble as a courtesan who has fallen in
love。
To picture la Tinti you must recall one of our best French singers
when she came out in /Il Fazzoletto/； an opera by Garcia that was then
being played by an Italian company at the theatre in the Rue Lauvois。
She was so beautiful that a Naples guardsman； having failed to win a
hearing； killed himself in despair。 The prima donna of the /Fenice/
had the same refinement of features； the same elegant figure； and was
equally young； but she had in addition the warm blood of Sicily that
gave a glow to her loveliness。 Her voice was fuller and richer； and
she had that air of native majesty that is characteristic of Italian
women。
La Tintiwhose name also resembled that which the French singer
assumedwas now seventeen； and the poor Prince three…and…twenty。 What
mocking hand had thought it sport to bring the match so near the
powder？ A fragrant room hung with r
