ABE] r r ,•4 V !\bx;J^^^i^wiSj ^^■t .>>/ y £. FERRETT & CO. G8 S. FOURTH STREET. 1845. Barrett & Jones, Printers, No. 34 Carter's Alley. CONTENTS BOOK I. Chap. 1. — Venice. II.— The Banditti. III.— The Trial of Strength. IV.— The Daggers. v.— Solitude. VI Rosabella, the Doge's lovely Niece. VII.— The Bravo's Bride. VIII The Conspiracy. IX. — Cynthia's Dwelling. BOOK II. Chap. I.— The Birthday. II. — The Florentine Stranger. III. — More Confusion. IV.— The Violet. V. — The Assassin. VI. — The two greatest men in Venice. BOOK III. Chap. I. — The Lovers. II. — A dangerous Promise. Ill The Midnight Meeting. IV. — The decisive Day. V. — The Clock strikes five ! VI. — Apparitions. VII — Conclusion. BOOK I ABELLINO. CHAPTER I. VENICE. It was evening. Multitudes of light clouds, partially illumined by the moon-beams, over- spread the horizon, and through them float- ed the full moon in tranquil majesty, while her splendor was reflected by every wave of the Adriatic Sea. All was hushed around ; gently was the water rippled by the night wind ; gently did the night wind sigh through the colonnades of Venice. It was midnight — and still sat a stranger, solitary and sad, on the border of the great canal. Now with a glance he measured the battlements and proud towers of the city ; and now he fixed his melancholy eyes upon the waters with a vacant stare. At length he spoke : " Wretch that I am ! Whither shall I go ? Here sit I in Venice, and what would it avail to wander further ? What will become of me? All now slumber save myself! The 8 ABELLINO. Doge rests on his couch of down ; the beg- gar's head presses his straw pillow ; but for me there is no bed except the cold, damp earth ! There is no gondolier so wretched, but he knows where to find work by day, and shelter by night — while I — while I — Oh ! dreadful is the destiny of which I am made the sport !" He began to examine for the twentieth time the pockets of his tattered garments. " No ! not one paolo, by heavens ! — and I hunger almost to death !" He unsheathed his sword ; he w^aved it in the moonshine, and sighed as he marked the glittering of the steel. " No, no ! my old and true companion, thou and I must never part ! Mine thou shalt remain, though I starve for it ! — Oh ! was not that a golden time when Valeria gave thee to me, and when as she threw the belt over my shoulders, I kissed thee and Valeria? She has deserted us for another world, but thou and I w^ill never part in this." He wiped away a drop which hung upon his eyelid. " Psha ! 'twas not a tear! the night wind is sharp and bitter, and makes the eyes wa- ter ; but as for tears — absurd ! my weeping days are over !" And as he spoke, the unfortunate (for such ABELLINO. y by his discourse and situation he appeared to be) dashed his forehead against the earth, and his lips were already unclosed to curse the hour which gave him being, when he suddenly seemed to recollect himself. He rested his head on his elbow, and sang mournfully the burden of a song which had often delighted his childhood in the casde of his ancestors. " Right !" he said to himself; " were I to sink under the weight of my destiny, I should be myself no longer." At that moment he heard a rustling at no great distance. He looked around, and in an adjacent street, which the moon faintly enlightened, he perceived a tall figure wrap- ped in a cloak, pacing slowly backwards and forwards. " 'Tis the hand of God, which hath guid- ed him hither— Yes ! I'll— I'll heg! Better to play the beggar in Venice, than the villain in Naples ; for the beggar's heart may beat nobly, though covered by rags." He said, sprang from the ground, and has- tened towards the adjoining street. Just as he entered it at one end, he perceived ano- ther person advancing through the other ; of whose approach the first was no sooner aware, than he hastily retired into the sha- dow of a piazza, as if anxious to conceal himself. 10 ABELLINO. " What can this mean ?" thought our mendicant. " Is yon eaves-dropper one of death's unlicensed ministers ? Has he re- ceived the retaining fee of some impatient heir, who pants to possess the wealth of the unlucky knave who comes strolling along yonder so careless and unconscious ? — be not so confident, honest friend ! I am at your elbow." He retired further into the shade, and si- lently and slowly drew near the lurker, who stirred not from his place. The stranger had already passed them by, when the con- cealed villain sprang suddenly upon him, and raised his right hand in which a poniard w^as gleaming ; but before he could give the blow, was felled to the earth by the arm of the mendicant. The stranger turned hastily tow^ards them, the Bravo started up and fled ; the beggar smiled. " How now ?" cried the stranger ; " w^hat does all this mean .?" " Oh! 'tis a mere jest, Seignior, which has only preserved your life." " What ? My life ? How so ?" " The honest gentleman who has just ta- ken to his heels, stole behind you with true cat-like caution, and had already raised his dagger when I saw him. — You owe your life to me, and the service is richly worth ABELLINO. 11 one little piece of money ! Give me some alms, Seignior, for on my soul I am hungry, thirsty, cold—" " Hence, scurvy companion ! I know you and your tricks too well. This is all a con- certed scheme between you, a design upon ray purse, an attempt to procure both money and thanks under the lame pretence of hav- ing saved me from an assassin. — Go, fellow, go ! practice these dainty devices on the Doge's credulity, if you will ; but with Buo- narotti you stand no chance, believe me." The wretched, starving beggar stood like one petrified, and gazed on the taunting stranger. "No; as I have a soul to save, Seignior, 'tis no lie that I tell you ; 'tis the plain truth ; have compassion, or I die this night of hun- ger." " Begone this instant, I say, or by hea- ven" — The unfeeling man here drew out a con- cealed pistol, and pointed it at his preserver. " Merciful heaven ! and is it thus that ser- vices are acknowledged in Venice ?" " The watch is at no great distance ; I need only raise my voice, and — " " Hell and confusion ! Do you take me for a robber then ?" " Make no noise, I tell you ! Be quiet, you had better — " 12 ABELLINO. " Hark you, Seignior ! Buonarotti is your name, I think ? I will write it down, as be- longing to the second scoundrel with whom I have met in Venice !" He paused for a moment; then continuing in a dreadful voice, — '' And w^hen," said he, " thou, Buonarotti, shalt hereafter hear the name of Abelltno — trejnble /" Abaellino turned away, and left the hard hearted Venetian. ABELLINO. 13 CHAPTER II. THE BANDITTI. And now rushed the unfortunate wildly through the streets of Venice : he railed at fortune ; he laughed and cursed by turns ; yet sometimes he suddenly stood still, seem- ed as pondering on some great and wonder- ous enterprise, and then again rushed onwards as if hastening to its execution. Propped against a column of the Signio- ria, he counted over the whole sum of his misfortunes. His wandering eye-balls seem- ed to seek comfort ; but they found it not. " Fate," he at length exclaimed in a par- oxysm of despair, " Fate has condemned me to be either the wildest of adventurers — or one, at the relation of whose crimes the world must shudder ! To astonish is my destiny : Rosalvo can know no medium : Rosalvo can never act like common men ! — Is it not the hand of fate which has led me hither ? Who could have ever dreamed that the son of the richest lord in Naples should have depended for a beggar's alms on Vene- tian charity ! / — 7, who feel myself possess- ed of strength of body and energy of soul 2 14 ABELLINO. fit for executing the most daring deeds — be- hold me creeping in rags through the streets of this inhospitable city, and torturing ray wits in vain to discover some means by which I may rescue life from the jfiws of famine ! Those men whom my munificence nourished, who at my table bathed their worthless souls in the choicest wine of Cy- prus, and glutted themselves with every kind of delicacy which the globe's four quarters could supply, those very men now deny to my necessity even a miserable crust of mouldy bread. — Oh! that is dreadful cruel ! Cruel of men ! cruel of Heaven !" He paused ; he folded his arms and sighed. " Yet will I bear it ! I will submit to my destiny ! I will traverse every path, and go through every degree of human wretched- ness ; and whatever may be my fate, I will be still myself, and whatever may be my fate, I will still act greatly ! — Away then with the Count Rosalvo, whom once all Naples idolized ; now — now am I the beggar AbeUino ! A beggar? — that name stands last in the scale of worldly rank, hwifirst'm the lists of the famishing, the outcast, and the unworthy." Something rustled near him. — Abellino gazed around. He was aware of the Bravo whom he had struck to the ground that night and W'hom two companions of a similar ABELLINO. 15 stamp had now joined. As they advanced, they cast inquiring glances around them. — They were in search of some one. "It is of thee that they are in search," said Abellino ; then advanced a few paces, and whistled. The ruffians stood still — they whispered together, and seemed to be undecided. Abellino whistled a second time. " 'Tis he !" he could hear one of them say distinctly ; and in a moment after they advanced slowly towards him. xA.bellino kept his place, but unsheathed his sword. The three unknown (they were masked) stopped a few paces from him. " How now, fellow?" quoth one of them, " what is the matter ? why stand you on your guard ?" Ahellino. — It is as well that you should be made to keep your distance, for I know >ou ; you are certain honest gentlemen, who live by taking away the lives of others. First Ruffian. — Was not your whistling addressed to us ? Ahellino. — It w^as. Ruffian. — And what would you of us ? Abellino. — Hear 'me ! I am a miserable wretch, and starving ; give me an alms out of your booty ! Ruffian. — An alms ? ha ! ha ! ha ! By my 16 ABELLINO. soul, that is whimsical ! — Alms from us in- deed ! — Oh ! by all means ! No doubt, you shall have alms a plenty. Ahellino. — Or else give me fifty sequins, and I'll bind myself to your service till I shall have worked out my debt. Ruffian. — Aye ! and pray then who may you be ? Abellino. — A starving wretch, the repub- lic holds none more miserable. Such am I at present; but hereafter — I have powers, knaves — this arm could pierce an heart, though guarded by three breastplates ; this eye, though surrounded by Egyptian dark- ness, could still see to stab sure. Ruffian. — Why then did you strike me down even now ? Ahellino. — In the hope of being paid for it ; but though I saved his life, the scoundrel gave me not a single ducat. Ruffian. — No ? so much the better. But hark ye, comrade ! are you sincere ? Ahellino, — Despair never lies. Ruffian. — Slave, shouldst thou be a trai- tor — Ahellino. — My heart would be within reach of your hands, and your daggers would be as sharp as now. The three dangerous companions again whispered among themselves for a few mo- ABELLINO. 17 ments, after which they returned their dag- gers into the sheath. " Come on then," said one of them ; ^'fol- low us to our home. It were unwise to talk over certain matters in the open street." " I follow you," was Abellino's answ^er ; " but tremble, should any one of you dare to treat me as a foe. — Comrade, forgive me that I gave your ribs somew^hat too hard a squeeze just now ; I w'ill be your sworn bro- ther in recompense." " We are on honor," cried the banditti with one voice ; " no harm shall happen to you : he who does you an injury, shall be to us a foe. A fellow of your humor suits us well : follow^ Us, and fear not." And on they went, Abellino marching between two of them. Frequent were the looks of suspicion, which he cast around him ; but no ill design was perceptible in the banditti. They guided him onwards, till they reached a canal, loosened a gondo- la, placed themselves in it, and row^ed till they had gained the most remote quarter of Venice. They landed ; treaded several bye streets, and at length knocked at the door of a house of no inviting appearance. It was opened by a young woman who con- ducted them into a plain but comfortable chamber. Many were the looks of surprise 2* 18 ABELLINO. and inquiry which she cast on the bewil- dered, half-pleased, half-anxious Abellino, w^ho knew not whither he had been convey- ed, and still thought it unsafe to confide en- tirely in the promises of the banditti. ABELLTNO. 19 CHAPTER III. THE TRIAL OF STRENGTH, Scarcely were the bravos seated, when Cynthia (for that was the young woman's name) was again summoned to the door ; and the company was now increased by two new comers who examined their unknown guest from head to foot. '' Now then," cried one of those who had conducted AbelUno to this respectable so- ciety, "let us see what you are like." As he said this, he raised a burning lamp from the table, and the light of its flame was thrown full upon Abellino's countenance. "Lord forgive me my sins!" screamed Cynthia; "out upon him! what an ugly hound it is!" She turned hastily round, and hid herface with her hands. Dreadful was the look with which Abellino repaid her compliment. " Knave," said one of the banditti, " na- ture's own hand has marked you out for an assassin — come, pray thee, be frank, and tell us how thou hast contrived so long to escape the gibbet ? In what jail didst thou leave thy last fetters ? Or from what galley hast 20 ABELLINO. thou taken thy departure, without staying to say adieu?" Abellino folded his arms. '' If I be such as you describe," said he with an air of authority, and in a voice which made his hearers tremble, " 'tis for me all the better. Whatever may be my future mode of life, Heaven can have no right to find fault with it, since it was for that it formed and fitted me." The five bravos stepped aside, and con- sulted together; the subject of their con- ference is easy to be divined. In the meanwhile Abellino remained quiet and indifferent to what w^as passing. After a few minutes they again approach- ed him : one, whose countenance was the most ferocious, and whose form exhibited the greatest marks of muscular strength, ad- vanced a few paces before the rest, and ad- dressed Abellino as folio w^s : " Hear me, comrade. In Venice there exist but five banditti ; you see them before you : \vilt thou be the sixth ? Doubt not thou wilt find sufficient employment. My name is Matteo, and I am the father of the band : that sturdy fellow with the red locks is called Baluzzo ; he, w^hose eyes twinkle like a cat's, is Tomaso ; an arch knave, I promise you ! 'twas Petrino, w^hose bones you handled so roughly to-night ; and yon ABELLINO. 21 thick-lipped Colossus, who stands next to Cynthia, is named Struzzo. Now then you know us all ; and since you are a pennyless devil, we are willing to incorporate you in our society ; but we must first be assured that you mean honestly by us." Abellino smiled, or rather grinned, and murmured hoarsely, " I am starving." "Answer, fellow ! Dost thou mean hon- estly by us?" " That must the event decide." "Mark me, knave; the first suspicion of treachery costs you your life. Take shelter in the Doge's palace, and girdle yourself round with all the power of the republic ; though clasped in the Doge's arms, and pro- tected by an hundred cannons ; still would we murder you ! Fly to the high altar ; press the crucifix to your bosom ; and even at mid'day — still would we murder you. — Think on this well, fellow, and forget not we are a banditti .'" " You need not tell me that ; but give me some food, and then I'll prate with you as long as you please. At present I am starv- ing! Four and twenty hours have elapsed since I last tasted nourishment." Cynthia now covered a small table with her best provisions, and filled several silver goblets with delicious wine. " If one could but look at him without 22 ABELLINO. disgust," inurmured Cynthia; " if he had but the appearance of something human ! Satan must certainly have appeared to his mother while she was big with him ; and thence came her child into the world with such a frightful countenance ! Ugh ! It's an absolute mask ; only that I never saw a mask so hideous !" Abellino heeded her not : he placed him- self at the table, and ate and drank as if he would have satisfied himself for the next six months. The banditti eyed him with looks of satisfaction, and congratulated each other on so valuable an acquisition. If the reader is curious to know w^hatthis same Abellino is like, he must figure to himself a stout young fellow, w^hose limbs perhaps might have been thought not ill- formed, had not the most horrible counte- nance that ever was invented by a caricaturist, or that Milton could have adapted to the ug- liness of his fallen angels, entirely marred the advantages of his person. Black and shining, but long and straight, his hair flew wildly about his brown neck and yellow face. His mouth was so wide that his gums and discoloured teeth w^ere visible, and a kind of convulsive twist which scarcely ever was at rest, had formed its expression into an eternal grin. His eye (for he had but one) was sunk deep into his head, and little ABELLINO. 23 more than the white of it was visible ; and even that Uttle was oversha(]owed by the protrusion of his dark and bushy eye-brow. In the union of his features were found col- lected in one hideous assemblage, all the most coarse and uncouth traits which ever had been exhibited singly in wooden cuts ; and the observer was left in doubt, whether this repulsive physiognomy expressed stu- pidity of intellect, or maliciousness of heart, or whether it implied them both together. " Now then I am satisfied !" roared Abellino, and dashed the still-full goblet upon the ground ; " speak ! what would you know of me? I am ready to give you an- swers." " The first thing," replied Matteo, " the first thing necessary is to give us a proof of your strength, for this is of material impor- tance in our undertakings. Are you good at wrestling?" *'I know not: try me." " Cynthia, remove the table. Now then, Abellino, which of us will you undertake ? whom amongst us dost think thou canst knock down as easy as yon poor dabbler in the art, Petrino ?" "Which of you?" cried Abellino ; "all of you together, and half a dozen more such pitiful scoundrels!" And he sprang from his seat, threw his sword on the table, and 24 ABELLINO. measured the strength of his antagonist with a single eye. The banditti burst into a loud fit of laugh- ter. "Now then," cried Abellino fiercely; " now then for the trial ! Why come you not on ?" " Fellow," replied Matteo, " take my ad- vice ; try first w^hat you can do wdth me alone, and learn what sort of men you have to manage. Think you we are marrowless boys, or delicate Seigniors, who waste their strength in the embrace of harlots?" Abellino answered him with a scornful laugh — Matteo became furious : his compan- ions shouted aloud and clapped their hands. "To business!" said Abellino; "I'm now in the right humor for sport ! Look to yourselves, my lads !" And in the same in- stant he collected his forces together, threw the gigantic Matteo over his head as if he had been an infant, knocked Struzzo down on the right hand, and Petrino on the left, tumbled Tomaso to the end of the room, head over heels, and stretched Baluzzo without animation upon the neighboring benches. Three minutes elapsed, ere the subdued bravos could recover themselves ; loud shout- ed Abellino, while the astonished Cynthia ABELLINO. 25 gazed and trembled at the terrible exhibi- tion. " By the blood of St. Januarius," cried Matteo, at length rubbing his battered joints, " the fellow is our master. Cynthia, take care to give him our best chamber." " He must have made a compact with the devil," grumbled Tomaso, and forced his dislocated wrist back into its socket. No one seemed inclined to hazard a se- cond trial of strength. The night was far advanced, or rather the grey of the morning already was visible over the sea. The ban- ditti separated, and each retired to his chamber. 26 ABELLINO. CHAPTER IV. THE DAGGERS. Abellino, this Italian Hercules, all ter- rible as he appeared to be, was not long a member of this society, before his compan- ions felt towards him sentiments of the most unbounded esteem. All loved, all valued him for his extraordinary talents for a bravo's trade, to which he seemed peculiarly adapt- ed, not only by his wonderful strength of bo- dy, but by the readiness of his wit, and his never failing presence of mind. Even Cyn- thia was inclined to feel some little affection for him, but he was really too ugly. Matteo (as Abellino was given to under- stand) was the captain of this dangerous troop. He was one who carried villany to the highest pitch of refinement, incapable of fear, quick and crafty, and troubled with less conscience than an English financier. The booty and price of blood which his associates brought in daily, were always delivered up to him : he gave each man his share, and retained no larger portion for himself than was allotted to the others. The ABELLINO. 27 catalogue of those whom he had dispatched into the other world, w^as already too long for him to have repeated it : many names had slipped his memory; but his greatest pleasure in his hours of relaxation, was to relate such of these murderous anecdotes as he still remembered, in the benevolent in- tention of inspiring his hearers with a desire to follow his example. His weapons were kept separate from the rest, and occupied a whole apartment. Here were to be found daggers of a thousand different fashions, with guards and without them ; two, three, and four edged. Here were stored air-guns, pistols and blunderbusses; poisons of various kinds, and operating in various ways; gar- ments fit for every possible disguise, whe- ther to personate the monk, the Jew, or the mendicant, the soldier, the senator, or the gondolier. One day he summoned Abellino to attend him in his armory. "Mark me," said he, "thou wilt turn out a brave fellow, that I can see already. It is now time that you should earn that bread for yourself, which hitherto you have owed to our bounty. — Look ! here hast thou a dagger of the finest steel; you must charge for its use by the inch. If you plunge it only one inch deep into the bosom of his foe, your employer must reward you with only 28 ABELLINO. one sequin, if two inches, with ten sequins; if three, with twenty; if the whole dagsjer, you may then name your own price. — Here is next a glass poniard ; whomsoever this pierces, that man's death is certain. As soon as the blow is given, you must break the dagger in the wound; the flesh will close over the point w^hich has been broken off, and which will keep its quarters till the day of resurrection. — Lastly, observe this metal- ic dagger; its cavity conceals a subtle poison, w^hich, whenever you touch this spring, will immediately infuse death into the veins of him whom the w^eapon's point hath w^ounded. — Take these daggers: in giving them I present you with a capital capable of bringing home to you the most heavy and most precious interest." Abellino received the instruments of death; but his hand shook as it grasped them. "Possessed of such unfailing weapons, of w^hat immense sums must your robberies have made you master!" "Scoundrel!" interrupted Matteo, frown- ing and offended, "among us robbery is un- known. What? dost take us for common plunderers, for mere thieves, cut-purses, house-breakers, and villains of that low, miserable stamp?" "Perhaps what you wish me to take you for is something worse; for to speak openly, ABELLINO. 29 Matteo, villains of that stamp are contented with plundering a purse or a casket, which can easily be filled again ; but that which we take from others, is a jewel which a man never has but once, and which, once stolen, can never be replaced. Are we not then a thousand times more atrocious plunderers?" "By the house at Loretto, I think you have a mind to moralize, AbelUno?" "Hark ye, Matteo, only one question; at the day of judgment, which think you will hold his head the highest, the thief or the assassin ?" "Ha! ha! ha!" "Think not, that Abellino speaks thus from want of resolution. Speak but the word, and I murder half the senators of Ve- nice; but still — " "Fool! know, the bravo must be above crediting the nurse's antiquated tales of vice and virtue. What is virtue? what is vice? nothing but such things as forms of govern- ment, customs, manners, and education have made sacred; and that which men are able to make honorable at one time, it is in their power to make dishonorable at another, whenever the humour takes them: had not the senate forbidden us to give opinions freely respecting the politics of Venice, there would have been nothing wrong in giving such opinions; and were the senate to de- 3* 30 ABELLINO. clare that it is right to give such opinions, that which is to-day thought a crime, would be thought meritorious to-morrow — then pr'ythee, let us have no more such doubts as these. We are men, such as the Doge and his senators, and have reason as much as they have, to lay down the law of right and wrong, and decree what shall be vice, and what shall be virtue." Abellino laughed — Matteo proceeded w^ith increased animation: "Perhaps you will tell me, our trade is disJwnorable! and what then, is the thing called ho7ior9 'Tis a word, an empty sound, a mere fantastic creature of the imagina- tion! — Ask, as you traverse some unfrequent- ed street, in what honor consists? — the usu- rer will answer, 'To be honourable is to be rich; and he has most honor, who can heap up the greatest quantity of sequins.' 'By no means,' cries the voluptuary; 'honor consists in being beloved by every handsome woman, and finding no virtue proof against your attacks.' 'How mistaken! interrupts the general; 'to conquer whole cities, to destroy whole armies, to ruin whole provin- ces — that indeed brings 7rMl honour!' The man of learning places his renown in the number of pages which he has either writ- ten or read; the tinker in the number of pots and kettles which he has made or ABELLINO. 31 mended; the nun in the number of good things which she has done, or had things which she has resisted; the coquette, in the list of her admirers; the repubhc, in the extent of her provinces: and thus, my friend, every one thinks that honour consists in something different from the rest. And why, then, should not the bravo think, that honor consists in reaching the perfection of his trade, and in guiding a dagger to the heart of an enemy with unerring aim?" "By my Ufe, 'tis a pity, Matteo, that you should be a brav^o; the schools have lost an excellent teacher of philosophy!" "Do you think so? — Why the fact is thus, Abellino — I was educated in a monastery: my father was a dignified prelate in Lucca, and my mother a nun of the Ursuline order, greatly respected for her chastity and devo- tion. Now, Seignior, it was thought fitting that I should apply closely to my studies; my father, good man, would fain have made me a light of the church; but I soon found, that I was better quaUfied for an incen- diary's torch. I followed the bent of my genius, yet count I not my studies thrown away, since they taught me more philoso- phy than to tremble at phantoms created by my own imagination. Follow my exam- ple, friend, and so farewell." 32 ABELLINO. CHAPTER V. SOLITUDE. Abellino had already passed six weeks in Venice, and yet (either from want of op- portunity, or of incHnation) he had suffered his daggers to remain idle in their sheaths. This proceeded partly from his not being as yet sufficiently acquainted with the windings and turns, the bye lanes and private alleys of the town; and partly because he had hitherto found no customers whose murderous designs stood in need of his helping hand. This want of occupation was irksome to him in the extreme; he panted for action, and was condemned to indolence. With a melancholy heart did he roam through Venice, and number every step with a sigh. He frequented the public places, the taverns, gardens, and every scene which was dedicated to amusement; but no where could he find what he sought — tranquillity. One evening he had loitered beyond the other visitants in a public garden, situated on one of the most beautiful of the Venitian islands. He strolled from arbor to arbor, threw himself down on the sea-shore, and ABELLINO. 33 •watched the play of the waves, as they sparkled in the moon-shine. "Four years ago," said he with a sigh, "just such an heavenly evening it was, that I stole frora Valeria's lips the first kiss, and heard from Valeria's lips for the first time the avowal that she loved me." He was silent, and abandoned himself to the melancholy recollections that thronged before his mind's eye. Every thing around him was so calm — so silent! not a single zephyr sighed among the blades of grass; but a storm raged in the breast of Abellino. "Four years ago could I have believed that a time would come when I should play the part of a bravo in Venice! 0! where are they flown, the golden hopes and plans of glory, which smiled upon me in the happy days of my youth? I am a bravo — to be a beggar were to be something better. "When my good old father in the enthu- siasm of paternal vanity, so oft threw his arm around my neck, and cried, 'My boy, thou wilt render the name of Rosalvo glo- rious:' — God, as I listened, how was my blood on fire! — What thought I not, what felt I not, what that was good and great did I not promise myself to do! — The father is dead, and the son is — a Venetian bravo: — When my preceptors praised and admired 34 ABELLINO. rae, and, carried away by the warmth of their feelings, clapped ray shoulder, and exclaimed, 'Count, thou wilt immortalize the ancient race of Rosalvo!' — Ha! in those blessed moments of a sweet delirium, how bright and beauteous stood futurity before me, — when, happy in the performance of some good deed, I returned home, and saw Valeria hasten to receive me with open arms, and when, while she clasped me to her bo- som, I heard her whisper, 'Oh! who could forbear to love the great Rosalvo?' God! oh, God! Away, away, glorious vi- sions of the past! To look on you drives me mad!" He was again silent; he bit his lip in fury, raised one emaciated hand to heaven, and struck his forehead violently with the other. "An assassin — the slave of cowards and rascals — the ally of the greatest villains whom the Venetian sun ever shone upon. Such is now the great Rosalvo! — Fie! — oh! fie on't! — And yet to this wretched lot hath fatality condemned me." Suddenly he sprang from the ground after a long silence; his eyes sparkled; his counte- nance changed; he drew his breath easier. "Yes! by Heaven, yes, great as Count Rosalvo that can I be no longer; but from being great as a Venetian bravo, what pre- vents me.'' — Souls in bliss!" he exclaimed, ABELLINO. 35 and sank on his knee, while he raised his folded hands to heaven, as if about to pro- nounce the most awful oath, "Spirit of my father! Spirit of Valeria! I will not become unworthy of you! Hear me, if your ghosts are permitted to wander near me, hear me swear that the bravo shall not disgrace his origin, nor render vain the hopes which soothed you in the bitterness of death! No! sure as I live, I will be the only dealer in this miserable trade, and posterity shall be compelled to honor that name, which my actions shall render illustrious." He bowed his forehead till it touched the earth, and his tears flowed plenteously. — Vast conceptions swelled his soul: he dwelt on wondrous views, till their extent bewil- dered his brain. Yet another hour elapsed, and he sprang to the earth to realize them! "I will enter into no compact against hu- man nature with five miserable cut-throats. Alone will I make the republic tremble; and before eight days are flown, these mur- derous knaves shall swing on a gibbet. Ve- nice shall no longer harbour five banditti; one, and one only, shall inhabit here, and that one shall beard the Doge himself; shall watch over right and over wrong, and, ac- cording as he judges, shall reward or punish. Before eight days are flown, the state shall be purified from the presence of these out- 36 ABELLINO. casts of humanity, and then shall I stand alone! Then must every villain in Venice, who hitherto has kept the daggers of ray companions in employment, have recourse to me; then shall I know the names and the persons of all those cowardly murder- ers, of all those illustrious profligates, with whom Matteo and his companions carry on the price of blood. And then, Abellino, Abellino ! that is the name! Hear, Venice, hear it and tremble!" Intoxicated with the wildness of his hopes, he rushed out of the garden; he summoned a gondolier, threw himself into the boat, and hastened to the dwelling of Cynthia, where the inhabitants already were folded in the arms of sleep. ABELLINO. 37 CHAPTER VI. ROSABELLA, THE DOGe's LOVELY NIECE. "Hark, comrade," said Matteo the next morning to Abellino, "to-day thou shalt make the first step in our profession." "To-day," hoarsely murmured Abellino, "and on whom am I to show my skill?" "Nay, to say truth, 'tis but a woman; but one must not give too difficult a task to a young beginner. I will myself accompany you; and see how you conduct yourself in this first trial. ^' "Hum!" said Abellino, and measured Matteo with his eyes from head to foot. "To-day, about four o'clock, thou shalt follow me to Dolabella's gardens which are situated on the south side of Venice; we must both be disguised, you understand. In these gardens are excellent baths — and after using these baths, the Doge's niece, the lovely Rosabella of Corfu, frequently walks without attendants. And then — you con- ceive me?" "And you will accompany me?" 4 38 ABELLINO. "I will be a spectator of your first adven- ture; 'tis thus I deal by every one." "And how many inches deep must I plunge my dagger?" "To the hilt boy, to the very hilt! Her death is required, and the payment will be princely; Rosabella in the grave, we are rich for life." Every other point was soon adjusted, — Noon was now past, the clock in the neigh- boring church of the Benedictines struck four, and Matteo and Abellino were already forth. They arrived at the gardens of Dolabella, which that day was unusually crowded. Ev- ery shady avenue was thronged with people of both sexes; every arbor was occupied by the persons most distinguished in Venice; in every corner sighed love-sick couples, as they w^aited for the wished approach of twi- light; and on every side did strains of vocal and instrumental music pour their harmony on the enchanted ear. Abellino mino-led with the crowd. A most respectable looking peruke concealed the repulsive ugliness of his features; he im- itated the walk and manners of a gouty old man, and supported himself on a crutch, as he walked slowly through the assembly. — His habit richly embroidered, procured for him universally a good reception, and no one ABELLINO. yy scrupled to enter into conversation with him respecting the weather, the commerce of the repubUc, or the designs of its enemies; and on no one of these subjects was Abellino found incapable of sustaining the discourse. By these means, he soon contrived to gain intelligence that Rosabella was certainly in the gardens, how she was habited, and in what quarter he was most likely to find her. Thither he immediately bent his course; and hard at his heels followed Malteo. Alone, and in the most retired arbor, sat Rosabella of Corfu, the fairest maid in Ven- ice. Abellino drew near the arbor: he tottered as he passed its entrance, like one oppressed with sudden faintness, and attracted Rosa- bella's attention. "Alas! alas!" cried he, "" is there no one at hand who will take compassion on the infirmity of a poor old man?" The Doge's fair niece quitted the arbor hastily, and flew to give assistance to the sufferer. "What ails you, my good father?" she inquired in a melodious voice, and with a look of benevolent anxiety. Abellino pointed towards the arbor; Ro- sabella led him in and placed him on a seat of turf. "God reward you, lady!" stammered 40 ABELLINO. Abellino faintly; he raised his eyes — they met Rosabella's, and a blush crimsoned his pale cheeks. Rosabella stood in silence before the dis- guised assassin, and trembled with tender concern for the old man's illness; and how that expression of interest ever makes a lovely woman look so much more lovely! — She bent her delicate form over the man w^ho was bribed to murder her, and after a while asked him in the gentlest tone, "Are you not better?" "Better!" stammered the deceiver with a feeble voice; — "better? — oh! yes, yes, yes — you — you are the Doge's niece, the noble Rosabella of Corfu?" "The same, my good old man." "Oh, lady! I have something to tell you — be on your guard, start not, what I would say is of the utmost consequence, and de- mands the greatest prudence. Ah, God, that there should live men so cruel! — Lady, your life is in danger." The maiden started back; the color fled from her cheeks. "Do you wish to behold your assassin? — You shall not die, but if you value your life, be silent." Rosabella knew not w^hat to think; the presence of the old man terrified her. "Fear nothing, lady, fear nothing; you ABELLINO. 41 have nothing to fear while I am with you. Before you quit this arbor, you shall see the assassin expire at your feet." Rosabella made a movement as if she would have fled; but suddenly the person who sat beside her was no longer an infirm old man. He, who a minute before had scarcely strength to mutter out a few senten- ces, and reclined against the arbor trembling like an aspen, sprang up with the force of a giant, and drew her back with one arm. "For the love of heaven," she cried, "re- lease me! let me fly!" "Lady, fear nothing; / protect you." — Thus said, AbeUino placed a whistle at his lips, and blew it shrilly. Instantly sprang Matteo from his conceal- ment in a neighboring clump of trees, and rushed into the arbor. Abellino threw Rosabella on the bank of turf, advanced a few steps to meet Matteo, and plunged his dagger in his heart. Without uttering a single cry, sank the banditti captain at the feet of Abellino; the death-rattle was heard in his throat, and after a few horrid convulsions all was over. Now did JNIatteo's murderer look again towards the arbor, and beheld Rosabella half senseless, as she lay on the bank of turf. "Your life is safe, beautiful Rosabella," said he; "there lies the villain bleeding, who 4* 42 ABELLINO. conducted me hither to murder you. Reco- ver yourself, return to your uncle the Doge, and tell him that you owe your life to Abel- lino." Rosabella could not speak. Trembling she stretched her arms towards him, grasped his hand, and pressed it to her lips in silent gratitude. Abellino gazed with delight and wonder on the lovely sufferer; and in such a situation who could have beheld her without emo- tion ? — Rosabella had scarcely numbered seventeen summers, her light and delicate limbs, enveloped in a thin white garment which fell around her in a thousand folds; her blue and melting eyes, whence beamed the expression of purest innocence ; her forehead, white as ivory, overshadowed by the ringlets of her bright, dark hair; cheeks, whence terror had now stolen the roses; lips, which a seducer had never poisoned with his kisses: such was Rosabella; a crea- ture in whose formation partial nature seem- ed to have omitted nothing which might constitute the perfection of female loveliness. Such she was, and being such, the wretched Abellino may be forgiven, if for some few minutes he stood like one enchanted, and bartered for those few minutes the tranquil- lity of his heart forever. ABELLINO. 43 "By him who made me," cried he at length, "oh! thou art fair, Rosabella; Valeria was not fairer!" He bowed himself down to her, and im- printed a burning kiss on the pale cheeks of the beauty. "Leave me, thou dreadful man!" she stammered in terror; "oh! leave me!" "Ah! Rosabella, why art thou so beau- teous, and why am I — knowest thou who kissed thy cheek, Rosabella? Go! tell thy uncle, the proud Doge Hwas the bravo Abel- lino y He said, and rushed out of the arbor. 44 ABELLINO. CHAPTER VII. It was not without good reason, that Ab- ellino took his departure in such haste. He had quitted the spot but a few minutes, when a large party accidentally strolled that way, and discovered with astonishment the corse of Matteo, and Rosabella pale and trembling in the arbor. A crowd immediately collected itself around them. It increased with every mo- ment, and Rosabella was necessitated to repeat what had happened to her for the satisfaction of every new comer. In the mean while, some of the Doge's courtiers, who happened to be among the crowd, hastened to call her attendants toge- ther; her gondola was already waiting for her, and the terrified girl soon reached her uncle's palace in safety. In vain was an embargo laid upon every other gondola; in vain did they examine every person, who was in the gardens of Dolabella at the time when the murdered assassin was first discovered. No traces could be found of Abellino. ABELLINO. 45 The report of this strange adventure spread like wild-fire through Venice. Ab- ellino, (for Rosabella had preserved but too well in her memory that dreadful name, and by the relation of her danger had given it universal publicity) Abellino was the object of general wonder and curiosity. Every one pitied the poor Rosabella for what she had suffered, execrated the villain who had bribed Matteo to murder her, and endea- vored to connect the different circumstances together by the help of one hypothesis or other, among which it would have been dif- ficult to decide which was the most impro- bable. Every one who heard the adventure told it again, and every one who told it again, added something of his ow^n ; till at length it was made into a complete romantic novel, which might have been entided with great propriety, " The Power of Beauty ;" for the Venitian gentlemen and ladies had setded the point among themselves completely to their own satisfaction^ that Abellino would undoubtedly have assassinated Rosabella, had he not been prevented by her uncom- mon beauty. But though Abellino's inter- ference had preserved her life, it w^as doubt- ed much whether this adventure w^ould be at all relished by her destined bridegroom, the Prince of Monaldeschi, a Neapolitan of 46 ABELLINO. the first rank, possessed of immense wealth and extensive influence. The Doge had for some time been secretly engaged in nego- ciating a match between his niece and this powerful nobleman, who was soon expected to make his appearance at Venice. The motive of his journey, in spite of all the Doge's precautions, had been divulged, and it was no longer a secret to any but Rosa- bella, who had never seen the Prince, and could not imagine why his expected visit should excite such general curiosity. Thus far the story had been told much to Rosabella's credit ; but at length the women began to envy her for her share in the adventure. The kiss which she had received from the Bravo afforded them an excellent opportunity for throwing out a few malicious insinuations, "She received a great service," said one, " and there's no saying how far the fair Rosabella, in the w^armth of gratitude, may have been carried in rewarding her preserver." " Very true," observed another, " and for my part I think it not very likely, that the fellow, being alone with a pretty girl, whose life he had just saved, should have gone away contented with a single kiss !" " Come, come," inter- rupted a third, " do not let us judge uncha- ritably ; the fact may be exactly as the lady relates ; though I must say, that gentlemen ABELLINO. 47 of Abellino's profession are not usually so pretty behaved, and that this is the first time I ever heard of a bravo in the Plato- nics." In short, Rosabella and the horrible Ab- ellino furnished the indolent and gossiping Venitians with conversation so long, that at length the Doge's niece was universally known by the honorable aj^pellation of the "Bravo's Bride." But no one gave himself more trouble about this affair than the Doge, the good but proud Ancreas. He immediately issued orders, that every person of suspicious ap- pearance should be watched more closely than ever: the night patroles were doubled ; and spies were employed daily in procuring intelligence of Abellino ; and yet all was in vain — Abellino's retreat was inscrutable. 48 ABELLINO. CHAPTER VIII. THE CONSPIRACY. " Confusion !" exclaimed Parozzi, a Veni- tian nobleman of the first rank, as he paced his chamber with a disordered air, on the morning after Matteo's murder; "now all curses light upon the villain's awkwardness ' Yet it seems inconceivable to me how all this should have fallen out so untowardly ! Has any one discovered my designs ? — I know w^ell, that Verrino loves Rosabella ; was it he, wdio opposed this confounded Abellino to Matteo, and charged him to mar my plans against her? This seems likely. And now, when the Doge inquires who it was that employed assassins to mur- der his niece, what other will be suspected than Parozzi, the discontented lover, to wdiom Rosabella refused her hand, and whom Andreas hates past hope of reconciliation ? — And now, having once found the scent — Parozzi ! Parozzi ! should the crafty Andreas get an insight into your plans — should he learn that you have placed yourself at the head of a troop of hare-brained youths — hare-brained may I w^ell call children, who, ABELLINO. 49 in order to avoid the rod, set fire to their paternal mansion — Parozzi, should all this be revealed to Andreas — " Here his reflections were interrupted. Memmo, Falieri, and Contarino entered the room, three young Venitians of the highest rank, Parozzi's inseparable companions, men depraved both in mind and body, spendthrifts, voluptuaries, well know to every usurer in Venice, and owing more than their paternal inheritance would ever admit of their paying. " Why, how is this, Parozzi?" cried Mem- mo, as he entered, (a wretch whose very features exhibited marks of that libertinism to which his life had been dedicated) "I can scarce recover myself from my astonish- ment! For Heaven's sake, is this report true? Did you really hire Matteo to mur- der the Doge's niece?" " I ?" exclaimed Parozzi, and hastily turn- ed away to hide the deadly paleness which overspread his countenance ; " Why should you suppose that any such design — sureJy, Memmo, you are distracted." Memmo. — By my soul, I speak but the plain matter of fact. Nay, only ask Falieri — he can tell you more. Falieri. — Faith, 'tis certain, Parozzi, that Lomellino has declared to the Doge, as a ruth beyond doubting, that you, and none 5 50 ABELLINO. but you^ were the person, who instigated Matteo to attempt Rosabella's life. Parozzi. — And I tell you again, that Lo- mellino knows not what he says. Contarino. — Well, well ! be on your guard. Andreas is a terrible fellow to deal with. Falieri. — He terrible ? I tell you, he is the most contemptible blockhead that the universe can furnish. Courage, perhaps, he possesses, but of brains not an atom. Contarino. — And I tell you that Andreas is as brave as a lion, and as crafty as a fox. Falieri. — Psha ! psha ! every thing would go to wreck and ruin, w^ere it not for the wiser heads of the triumvirate of counsel- lors, whom Heaven confound ! Deprive him of Paolo Manfrone, Conari, and Lomellino, and the Doge would stand there looking as foolish as a school boy, who was going to be examined, and had forgotten his lesson. Parozzi. — Falieri is in the right. Memino. — Quite ! quite ! Falieri. — And then Andreas is as proud as a beggar grown rich and dressed in his first suit of embroidery. By St. Anthony ! he is become quite insupportable. Do you not observe how he increases the number of his attendants daily ? Memmo. — Nay, that is an undoubted fact. Contarino. — And then to what an un- bounded extent has he carried his influence ! ABELLINO. 51 The Sis^nioria, the Quaranti, the Procura- tors of St. Mark, the Avccatori, all think and act exactly as suits the Doge's pleasure and convenience. Every soul of them de- pends as much on that one man's humor and caprices, as puppets do, who nod or shake their wooden heads, just as the fellow be- hind the curtain thinks proper to move the wires. Parozzi. — And yet the populace idolizes this Andreas ! Memmo. — Aye, that is the worst part of the story. Falieri. — But never credit me a^^ain, if he does not experience a reverse of fortune speedily. Contarhio. — That might happen, w^ould we but set our shoulders to the wheel stout- ly. But what do we do ? We pass our time in taverns and brothels, drink and game, and throw ourselves headlong into such an ocean of debts, that the best swimmer must sink at last. Let us resolve to make the attempt; let us seek recruits on all sides; let us labor with all our might and main : things must change ; or if they do not, take my word for it, my friends, this world is no longer a world for us. Memmo. — Nay, it is a melancholy truth, that during the last half year, my creditors have been ready to beat my door down with 52 ABELLINO. knocking ; I am awakened out of my sleep in the morning, and lulled to rest again at night, with no other music than their eter- nal clamors. Parozzi. — Ha! ha! ha! Asfor me, I need not tell you how I am situated. Falieri. — Had we been less extravagant, we might at this moment have been sitting quietly in our palaces, and — but as things stand now — Parozzi. — Well — " as things stand now" — I verily believe that Falieri is going to mo- ralize. Coiitarino. — That is the very way with old sinners, when they have lost the power to sin any lonp^er: then they are ready to weep over their past life, and talk loudly about repentance and reformation. Now, for my own part, I am perfectly well satis- fied with my w^anderings from the common beaten paths of morality and prudence. They serve to convince me, that I am not one of your every-day men, who sit cramp- ed up in the chimney-corner, lifeless and phlegmatic, and shudder when they hear of any extraordinary occurrence. Nature evi- dently intended me to be a libertine, and I am determined to fulfil my destination. Why, if spirits like ours were not produced every now and then, the world would abso- lutely go fast asleep ; but w^e rouse it by ABELLINO. 53 deranging the old order of things, force mankind to quicken their snail's pace, tar- nish a million of idlers with riddles which they puzzle their brains about, without be- ing able to comprehend, infuse some few hundreds of new ideas into the heads of the great multitude, and in short, are as useful to the world as tempests are, which dissipate those exhalations, with which nature other- wise would poison herself. Fallen. — Excellent sophistry, by my hon- our! Why, Contarino, ancient Rome has had an irreparable loss in net having num- bered you among her orators : it is a pity though, that there should be so little that is solid wrapt up in so many fine sounding words. Now learn, that while you, with this rare talent of eloquence, have been most unmercifully wearing out the patience of your good natured hearers, Falieri has been in action ! The Cardinal Gonzaga is dis- contented wiih the government ; heaven knows what Andreas has done to make him so vehemently his enemy ; but, in short, Gonzaga now belongs to our party. Parozzi. {with astonishment and delig;}d.) Falieri, are you in your senses? The Car- dinal Gonzaga — Falieri. — Is ours, and ours both body and soul. I confess, I was obliged to rhodomon- tade a good deal to him about our patriotism, 5* 54 ABELLINO. our glorious designs, our love for freedom, and so forth; in short, Gonzaga is a hypo- crite, and therefore is Gonzaga the fitter for us. Contarino^ (clnsping Falieri's hand.) — Eravo, my friend ! Venice shall see a second edition of Catiline's conspiracy. Now, then, it is my turn to speak, for I have not been idle since we parted. In truth, I have as yet caught nothing, but I have made my- self master of an all-powerful net, with which I doubt not to capture the best half of Venice. You all know the Marchioness Olympia ? Parozzi. — Does not each of us keep a list of the handsomest women in the republic, and can we have forgotten number one ? Falieri. — Olympia and Rosabella are the goddesses of Venice : our youths burn in- cense on no other altar. Contarino. — Olympia is my own. Falieri. — How ? Parozzi. — Olympia ? Contarino. — Why, how now ? Why stare ye, as if 1 had prophesied to you that the skies were going to fall ? I tell you, Olym- pia's heart is mine, and that I possess her entire and most intimate confidence. Our connection must remain a profound secret ; but depend upon it, whatever I wish, she wishes also ; and you know she can make ABELLINO. 55 half the nobility in Venice dance to the sound of her pipe, let her play what tune she pleases. Parozzi. — Contarino, you are our master. Contarino. — And you had not the least suspicion how powerful an ally I was labor- ing to procure for you ? Parozzi. — I must blush for myself while I listen to you, since as yet I have done no- thing. Yet this I must say in my excuse, had Matteo, bribed by my gold, accom- plished Rosabella's murder, the Doge w^ould have been robbed of that chain, with which he holds the chief men of Venice attached to his government. Andreas would have no merit, were Rosabella once removed. The most illustrious families would care no longer for his friendship, were their hopes of a connection wnth him by means of his niece buried in her grave. Rosabella will one day be the Doge's heiress. Memmo. — K\\ that I can do for you in this business is to provide you with pecuniary supplies. My old miserable uncle, whose whole property becomes mine at his death, has brim-full coffers, and the old miser dies whenever I say the word. Falieri. — You have suffered him to live too long already. Memmo. — Why, I never have been able to make up my mind entirely to You 56 ABELo^INO. would scarcely believe it, friends — but at times I am so hypochondriac, I could almost fancy I feel twinges of conscience. Contarino. — Indeed ! Then take m.y ad- vice, and go into a monastery. Memmo. — Yes, truly, that would suit me to a hair. Falieri. — Our first care must be to find out our old acquaintances, Matteo's compan- ions : yet having hitherto always transacted business with them through their captain, I know not where they are to be met with. Parozzi. — As soon as they are found, their first employment must be the removal of the Doge's trio of advisers. Contarino. — That were an excellent idea, if it were but as easily done as said. Well then, my friends, this principal point at last is decided. Either we will bury our debts under the ruins of the existing constitution of the republic, or make Andreas a gift of our heads towards strengthening the walls of the building. In either case, we shall at least obtain quiet. Necessity, with her whip of serpents, has driven us to the very point of her rock, whence we must save ourselves by some act of extraordinary darin^j, or be precipitated on the opposite side into the abyss of shame and eternal oblivion. The next point to be considered, is how^ we may best obtain supplies for our necessary ex- ARELLINO. 57 penses, and induce others to join with us in our plans. For this purpose we must use every artifice to secure in our interests the courtezans of the greatest celebrity in Ve- nice. What we should be unable to effect by every powder of persuasion, banditti by their daggers, and princes by their treasu- ries, can one of these Phrynes accomplish with a single look. Where the terrors of the scaffold are without effect, and the priest's exhortations are heard with cold- ness, a wanton kiss and a tender promise often perform wonders. The most vigilant fidelity drops to sleep on the voluptuous bosoms of these witches ; the w^armth of their kisses can thaw the lips of secrecy it- self; and the bell which sounded the hour of assignation, has often ransf the knell of the most sacred principles and most stead- fast resolutions. But should you either fail to gain the mastery over the minds of these women, or fear to be yourselves entangled in the nets you wish to spread for others — in these cases you must have recourse to the holy father confessors. Flatter the pride of these insolent friars ; paint for them upon the blank leaf of futurity, bishop's mitres, patriarchal missions, the hats of cardinals, and the keys of St. Peter ; my life upon it, they will spring at the bait, and you wnll have them completely at your disposal. 58 ABELLINO. These hypocrites, who govern the con- sciences of the bigoted Venetians, hold man and woman, the noble and the mendicant, the Doge and the gondolier, bound fast in the chains of superstition, by which they can lead them wheresoever it best suits their pleasure. It will save us tons of gold in gaining over proselytes, and keeping their consciences quiet when gained, if we can but obtain the assistance of the confessors, whose blessings and curses pass with the multitude for current coin. Now then to work, comrades, and so farewell. ABELLINO. 59 CHAPTER IX. Scarcely had Abellino achieved the bloody deed which employed every tongue in Venice, than he changed his dress and whole appearance with so much expedition and success as to prevent the slightest sus- picion of his being Matteo's murderer. He quitted the gardens unquestioned, nor left the least trace which could lead to a discov- ery. He arrived at Cynthia's dwelling. It was evening. Cynthia opened the door, and Abellino entered the common apart- ment. " Where are the rest ?" said he in a sav- asje tone of voice, whose sound made Cyn- thia tremble. " They have been asleep," she answered, " since mid-day. Probably they mean to go out on some pursuit to-night." Abellino threw himself into a chair, and seemed to be lost in thought. " But why are you ahvays so gloomy, Abellino," said Cynthia, drawing near 60 ABELLINO. him ; " it is that which makes you so ue;ly. Pray thee, away with those frowns ; they make your countenance look worse than na- ture made it." AbelUno made no answer. " Really, you are enough to frighten a body ! Come now, let us be friends, Abel- lino ; I begin not to dislike you, and to en- dure your appearance ; and I don't know but—" "Go! wake the sleepers!" roared the Bravo. "The sleepers? Psha ! let them sleep on, the stupid rogues ! Sure you are not afraid to be alone with me? Mercy on me, one would think I looked as terrible as your- self. Do I? Nay, look on me, Abellino!" Cynthia, to say the truth, was by no means an ill-looking girl; her eyes were bright and expressive ; her hair fell in shin- ing ringlets over her bosom; her lips were red and full, and she bowed them towards Abellino's — but Abellino's were still sacred by the touch of Rosabella's cheek. He start- ed from his seat, and removed (yet gently) Cynthia's hand which rested on his shoulder. " Wake the sleepers, my good girl," said he, " I must speak with them this mo- ment." Cynthia hesitated. ABELLINO. 61 Cynthia retired in silence ; yet, as she crossed the threshold, she stopped for an instant, and menaced him with her finger. Abellino strode through the chamber with hasty steps, his head reclining on his shoulder, his arms folded over his breast " The first step is taken," said he to him- self ; "there is one moral monster the less on earth. I have committed no sin by this murder; I have but performed a sacred du- ty. Aid me, thou Great and Good, for ar- duous is the task before me. Ah ! should that task be gone through with success, and Rosabella be the reward of my labors — Ro- sabella ? What, shall the Doge's niece be- stow her hand on the outcast Abellino ? — Oh! madman that I am to hope it ! No! never was their frenzy equal to mine ! To attach myself at first sight to Yet Ro- sabella is capable of thus enchanting at first sight ! Rosabella and Valeria ! To be be- loved by two such women ! Yet though 'tis impossible to attain, the striving' to at- tain such an end is glorious. Illusions so delif^htful will at least make me happy for a moment, and alas! the wretched Abellino needs illusions, that for a moment will make him happy. Oh ! surely knew the world what I gladly luould accomplish, the world would both pity and love me." Cynthia returned, the four Bravos follow- 6 62 ABELLINO. ed her, yawning, grumbling, and still half asleep. " Come, come," said Abellino ; *' rouse yourselves, lads. Before I say any thing, be convinced that you are wide awake, for what I am going to tell you is so strange that you will needs believe it to be a dream." They listened to him with an air of indif- ference and impatience. " Why, what's the matter now ?" said Tomaso, while he stretched himself. " Neither more nor less, than that our honest, hearty, brave Matteo is — murder- ed !" " What ? Murdered !" everyone exclaim.- ed, and gazed with looks of terror on the bearer of this unwelcome news ; while Cyn- thia gave a loud scream, and clasping her hands together, sunk almost breathless into a chair. A general silence prevailed for some time. " Murdered ?" at length repeated Toma- so, and by whom ? Baluzzo. — Where ? Petrino. — What ! this forenoon ? Abellino. — In the gardens of Dolabella, where he was found bleeding at the feet oi the Doge's niece. Whether he fell by her hand, or by that of one of her admirers, I cannot say. ABELLINO. 63 Cynthia^ (ineepins;.) — Poor, dear Matteo ! Mellino. — About this time to-morrow, you will see his corse exhibited on a gib- bet. Petrino. — What ! did any one recognize him ? Abellino. — Yes, yes ! there's no doubt about his trade, you may depend on't. Cynthia. — The gibbet! — Poor, dear Mat- teo ! Tomaso. — This is a fine piece of work ! Baluzzo. — Confound the fellow! who would have thought of any thing happening so unlucky ? Abellino. — Why, how now ? You seem to be overcome. Struzzo. — I cannot recover myself: sur- prise and terror have almost stupified me. Abellino. — Indeed ! by my life, when I heard the news, I burst into laughter : "Sig- ner Matteo,' said I, ' I wish your worship joy of your safe arrival.' Tomaso. — What ? Struzzo. — You laughed ? Hang me if I can see what there is to laugh at. Abellino. — Why, surely you are not afraid of receiving what you are so ready to bestow on others ? What is your object ? — What can we expect as our reward at the end of our labors, except the gibbet or the rack ? W^hat memorials of our actions shall 64 ABELLINO. we leave behind us, except our skeletons dancing in the air, and the chains which rattle around them ? He who chooses to play the Bravo's part on the great theatre of the world, must not be afraid of death, whether it comes at the hand of the physi- cian, or of the executioner. Come, come ! pluck up your spirits, comrades. Tomaso. — That's easy to say, but quite out of my power. Petrino, — Mercy on me — how my teeth chatter ! Baluzzo. — Pr'ythee, Abellino, be compo- sed for a moment or two — your gaiety at a time like this, is quite horrible. Cynthia, — Oh me ! Oh me ! — Pocr mur- dered Matteo. Abellino. — Hey day ! Why, what is all this ? Cynthia, my life, are you not ashamed of being such a child? Come, let you and I renew that conversation which my sending you to wake these gentlemen inter- rupted — sit down by me, sweet heart, and give me a kiss. Cynthia. — Out upon you, monster! Abellino. — What, have you altered your mind, my pretty dear ? Well, well — with all ray heart. When you are in the humor, /may not have an inclination. Baluzzo. — Death and the devil, Abelli- no, is this a time for talking nonsense ? — ABELLINO. 65 Pr'ythee, keep such trash for a fitter occa- sion, and let us consider what we are to do just now. Petrino, — Nay, this is no season for tri- fling. Struzzo. — Tell us, Abellino, you are a clever fellow ; what course is it best for us to take ? Ahellino^ [after a pause.) — Nothing must be done, or a great deal. One of two things must we choose — either we must re- main where we are, and what we are, mur- der honest men to please any rascal w^ho will give us gold and fair words, and make up our minds to be hung, broken on the wheel, condemned to the galleys, burnt alive, crucified or beheaded at the long run, just as it may seem best to the supreme au- thority ; or else — Tomaso. — Or else ? Well ? Ahellino. — Or else we must divide the spoils w^hich are already in our possession, quit the republic, begin a new and better life, and endeavour to make our peace w^ith heaven. We have already wealth enough to make it unnecessary for us to ask, " How shall we get our bread ?" You may either buy an estate in some foreign country, or keep an Osteria, or engage in commerce, or in short, do whatever you like best, so that you do but abandon the profession of an as- 6* 66 ABELLINO. sassin. Then we may look out a wife among the pretty girls of our own rank in life, become the happy fathers of sons and daughters, may eat and drink in peace and security, and make amends, by the honesty of our future lives, for the offences of our past. Tomaso. — Ha ! ha ! ha ! Ahellwo. — What you do, that will / do too ; I will either hang, or be broken on the wheel with you, or become an honest man, just as you please. Now then, what is your decision ? Tomaso. — Was there ever such a stupid counsellor ? Petrino. — Our decision ? Nay, the point is not very difficult to decide. Ahellino. — I should have thought it had been. Tomaso. — Without more words then, I vote for our remaining as we are, and car- rying on our old trade ; that will bring us in plenty of gold, and enable us to lead a jolly life. Petrino. — Right, lad! You speak my thoughts exactly- Tomaso. — We are Bravos, it is true ; but what then? We are honest fellows, and the devil take him who dares say we are not. However, at any rate, we must keep within doors for a few days, lest we should ABELLINO. 67 be discovered ; for I warrant you the Doge's spies are abroad in search of us. But as soon as the pursuit is over, be it our first business to find out Matteo's murderer, and throttle him out of hand, as a warning to all others. All. — Bravo ! bravissimo ! Petrino. — And from this day forth, I vote that Tomaso should be our Captain. Struzzo. — Aye, in Matteo's stead. ./^//.— Right ! right! Abellino. — To which I say amen with all my heart. Now then all is decided. BOOK II. CHAPTER I. THE BIRTH DAY. In solitude and anxiety, with barred win- dows and bolted doors, did the banditti pass the day immediately succeeding JVlatteo's murder ; every murmur in the street ap- peared to them a cause of apprehension ; every footstep which approached their doors made them tremble till it had passed them. In the meanwhile the ducal palace blazed with splendor, and resounded with mirth. The Doge celebrated the birth-day of his fair niece, Rosabella, and the feast was hon- ored by the presence of the chief persons of the city, of the foreign ambassadors, and of many illustrious strangers who were at that time residents in Venice. On this occasion no expense had been spared no source of pleasure had been ne- glected. The arts contended with each other for superiority ; the best poets in Venice celebrated this day with powers ex- celling anything which they had before ex- hibited, for the subject of their verses was Rosabella ; the musicians and virtuosi sur- passed all their former triumphs, for their object was to obtain the suffrage of Rosa- 72 ABELLINO. bella. — The singular unian of all kinds of pleasure intoxicated the imagination of every guest ; and the Genius of delight extended his influence over the whole as- sennbly, over the old man and the youth, over the matron and the virgin The venerable Andreas had seldom been seen in such high spirits as on this occasion. He was all life ; smiles of satisfaction play- ed round his lips : gracious and conscend- ing to every one, he made it his chief care to prevent his rank from being felt. Some- times he trifled with the ladies, whose beauty formed the greatest ornament of this entertainment; sometimes he mingled among the masks whose fantastic appear- ance and gaiety of conversation enlivened the ball-room by their variety; at other times he played chess with the generals and admirals of the republic; and frequent- ly he forsook every thing to gaze with de- light on Rosabella's dancing, or listen in silent rapture to Rosabella's music. Lomellino, Conari, and Paolo Manfrone, the Doge's three confidential friends and counsellors, in defiance of their gray hairs, vningied in the throng of youthful beauties, flirted first with one, and then with another, and the arrows of raillery were darted and received on both sides with spirit and good humor. ABELLINO. 73 <