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第9节

vendetta-第9节

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of his wife were so frugal; so tranquil; that their modest fortune

sufficed for all their wants。 To them; their daughter Ginevra was more

precious than the wealth of the whole world。 When; therefore; in May;

1814; the Baron di Piombo resigned his office; dismissed his crowd of

servants; and closed his stable door; Ginevra; quiet; simple and

unpretending like her parents; saw nothing to regret in the change。

Like all great souls; she found her luxury in strength of feeling; and

derived her happiness from quietness and work。 These three beings

loved each other too well for the externals of existence to be of

value in their eyes。



Often; and especially after the second dreadful fall of Napoleon;

Bartolomeo and his wife passed delightful evenings alone with their

daughter; listening while she sang and played。 To them there was a

vast secret pleasure in the presence; in the slightest word of that

child; their eyes followed her with tender anxiety; they heard her

step in the court…yard; lightly as she trod。 Like lovers; the three

would often sit silently together; understanding thus; better than by

speech; the eloquence of their souls。 This profound sentiment; the

life itself of the two old people; animated their every thought。 Here

were not three existences; but one;one only; which; like the flame

on the hearth; divided itself into three tongues of fire。 If;

occasionally; some memory of Napoleon's benefits and misfortunes; if

the public events of the moment distracted the minds of the old people

from this source of their constant solicitude; they could always talk

of those interests without affecting their community of thought; for

Ginevra shared their political passions。 What more natural; therefore;

than the ardor with which they found a refuge in the heart of their

only child?



Until now the occupations of public life had absorbed the energy of

the Baron di Piombo; but after leaving those employments he felt the

need of casting that energy into the last sentiment that remained to

him。 Apart from the ties of parentage; there may have been; unknown to

these three despotic souls; another powerful reason for the intensity

of their reciprocal love: it was love undivided。 Ginevra's whole heart

belonged to her father; as Piombo's whole heart belonged to his child;

and if it be true that we are bound to one another more by our defects

than by our virtues; Ginevra echoed in a marvellous manner the

passions of her father。 There lay the sole imperfection of this triple

life。 Ginevra was born unyielding of will; vindictive; and passionate;

like her father in his youth。



The Corsican had taken pleasure in developing these savage sentiments

in the heart of his daughter; precisely as a lion teaches the lion…

cubs to spring upon their prey。 But this apprenticeship to vengeance

having no means of action in their family life; it came to pass that

Ginevra turned the principle against her father; as a child she

forgave him nothing; and he was forced to yield to her。 Piombo saw

nothing more than childish nonsense in these fictitious quarrels; but

the child was all the while acquiring a habit of ruling her parents。

In the midst; however; of the tempests which the father was fond of

exciting; a look; a word of tenderness; sufficed to pacify their angry

souls; and often they were never so near to a kiss as when they were

threatening each other vehemently。



Nevertheless; for the last five years; Ginevra; grown wiser than her

father; avoided such scenes。 Her faithfulness; her devotion; the love

which filled her every thought; and her admirable good sense had got

the better of her temper。 And yet; for all that; a very great evil had

resulted from her training; Ginevra lived with her father and mother

on the footing of an equality which is always dangerous。



Piombo and his wife; persons without education; had allowed Ginevra to

study as she pleased。 Following her caprices as a young girl; she had

studied all things for a time; and then abandoned them;taking up and

leaving each train of thought at will; until; at last; painting had

proved to be her dominant passion。 Ginevra would have made a noble

woman had her mother been capable of guiding her studies; of

enlightening her mind; and bringing into harmony her gifts of nature;

her defects came from the fatal education which the old Corsican had

found delight in giving her。



After marching up and down the room for some time; Piombo rang the

bell; a servant entered。



〃Go and meet Mademoiselle Ginevra;〃 said his master。



〃I always regret our carriage on her account;〃 remarked the baroness。



〃She said she did not want one;〃 replied Piombo; looking at his wife;

who; accustomed for forty years to habits of obedience; lowered her

eyes and said no more。



Already a septuagenarian; tall; withered; pale; and wrinkled; the

baroness exactly resembled those old women whom Schnetz puts into the

Italian scenes of his 〃genre〃 pictures。 She was so habitually silent

that she might have been taken for another Mrs。 Shandy; but;

occasionally; a word; look; or gesture betrayed that her feelings

still retained all the vigor and the freshness of their youth。 Her

dress; devoid of coquetry; was often in bad taste。 She usually sat

passive; buried in a low sofa; like a Sultana Valide; awaiting or

admiring her Ginevra; her pride; her life。 The beauty; toilet; and

grace of her daughter seemed to have become her own。 All was well with

her if Ginevra was happy。 Her hair was white; and a few strands only

were seen above her white and wrinkled forehead; or beside her hollow

cheeks。



〃It is now fifteen days;〃 she said; 〃since Ginevra made a practice of

being late。〃



〃Jean is so slow!〃 cried the impatient old man; buttoning up his blue

coat and seizing his hat; which he dashed upon his head as he took his

cane and departed。



〃You will not get far;〃 said his wife; calling after him。



As she spoke; the porte…cochere was opened and shut; and the old

mother heard the steps of her Ginevra in the court…yard。 Bartolomeo

almost instantly reappeared; carrying his daughter; who struggled in

his arms。







CHAPTER IV



LOVE



〃Here she is; my Ginevra; Ginevrettina; Ginevrola; mia Ginevra bella!〃

cried the old man。



〃Oh; father; you hurt me!〃



Instantly Ginevra was put down with an air of respect。 She nodded her

head with a graceful movement at her mother; who was frightened by her

cry; as if to say; 〃Don't be alarmed; it was only a trick to get

away。〃



The pale; wan face of the baroness recovered its usual tones; and even

assumed a look of gayety。 Piombo rubbed his hands violently;with him

the surest symptom of joy; he had taken to this habit at court when he

saw Napoleon becoming angry with those of his generals and ministers

who served him ill or committed blunders。 When; as now; the muscles of

his face relaxed; every wrinkle on his forehead expressed benevolence。

These two old people presented at this moment precisely the aspect of

a drooping plant to which a little water has given fresh life after

long dryness。



〃Now; to dinner! to dinner!〃 cried the baron; offering his large hand

to his daughter; whom he called 〃Signora Piombellina;〃another

symptom of gayety; to which Ginevra replied by a smile。



〃Ah ca!〃 said Piombo; as they left the table; 〃your mother has called

my attention to the fact that for some weeks you have stayed much

longer than usual at the studio。 It seems that painting is more to you

than your parents〃



〃Oh; father!〃



〃Ginevra is preparing some surprise for us; I think;〃 said the mother。



〃A picture of your own! will you bring us that?〃 cried the Corsican;

clapping his hands。



〃Yes; I am very much occupied at the studio;〃 replied Ginevra; rather

slowly。



〃What is the matter; Ginevra? You are turning pale!〃 cried her mother。



〃No!〃 exclaimed the young girl in a tone of resolution;〃no! it shall

never be said that Ginevra Piombo acted a lie。〃



Hearing this singular exclamation; Piombo and his wife looked at their

daughter in astonishment。



〃I love a young man;〃 she added; in a voice of emotion。



Then; not venturing to look at her parents; she lowered her large

eyelids as if to veil the fire of her eyes。



〃Is he a prince?〃 asked her father; ironically; in a tone of voice

which made the mother quail。



〃No; father;〃 she said; gently; 〃he is a young man without fortune。〃



〃Is he very handsome?〃



〃He is very unfortunate。〃



〃What is he?〃



〃Labedoyere's comrade; he was proscribed; without a refuge; Servin

concealed him; and〃



〃Servin is a good fellow; who has done well;〃 cried Piombo; 〃but you;

my daughter; you do wrong to love any man; except your father。〃



〃It does not depend on me to love; or not to love;〃 replied Ginevra;

still gently。



〃I flattered myself;〃 continued her father; 〃that my Ginevr

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