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 L I E) RARY 
 
 OF THL 
 
 U N 1VLR.SITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 R346»-
 
 3Ro0alie: 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 CASTLE OF MONTALABRETTI. 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 • l.ed through a sad variety of woe*." 
 
 RICHMOND 
 
 •1IHTI0 rOB LOKGMAN, HURST, RECS, ORMI, A})D BROWJI) 
 VATERMOSTER ROW, LONDON. 
 
 1811.
 
 Printed by Eling Sc Wall, 1 
 Hill-Street, Richniond. J
 
 
 V 
 
 -> 
 
 PREFACE, 
 
 IT Bas been the wish, and, indeed,. 
 ^- the object, of the Author, to pour* 
 * tray a female character, in which 
 magnanimity of mind might be 
 V blended with feminine gentleness j 
 and to describe events, which, na- 
 turally arising out of each other, 
 may be ascribed rather to story
 
 VI 
 
 than extraordinary circumstances. 
 The heroine of these sheets has^ 
 therefore, no other trials to endure 
 than such as are at least possible ; 
 and no other aids to support her 
 under thein, than well regulated 
 principles. 
 
 The story of Bianca Cape/lo, 
 has already appeared in Print ; 
 but it is so well deserving of be- 
 ing better known, that the Author 
 hopes to be pardoned, for havuiLC 
 introduced it.
 
 3^o0alie* 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The lofty choir, at the late hour of prayer 
 Oh let me tread : while to the according voice. 
 The solemn sounding Organ peals on high, 
 The clear, slow chaunt! 
 
 The soft shades of evening were 
 spreading fast over the beautiful woods 
 which surrounded the grey turrets of the 
 Monastry of Santa Agnese, and the holy 
 sisters were offering up their last orisons 
 to heaven, in the sweet and solemn strains 
 of harmony, when a loud, and unusual 
 knocking at the outer portal, almost con- 
 YOL. I. B verted
 
 2 
 
 verted their devotion into terror. The 
 porteress, after a few enquiries, having 
 unlocked the gate, a stranger entered 
 hastily, and rushing along the cloisters, 
 met the nuns returning from the choir in 
 slow procession. The increasing gloom 
 gave them but an indistinct view of the 
 figure of a majestic Cavalier, who throw- 
 ing himself at the feet of the Lady 
 Abbess, and drawing his cloak aside, held 
 out to her a lovely little girl; and in 
 words, rendered almost inarticulate by 
 agony, besought her to receive and pro- 
 tect it. 
 
 The superior was silent ; for surprise 
 had deprived her of the power of 
 speech. 
 
 " Do not reject my prayer!" said 
 he with the most affecting energy, 
 " Preserve this babe from the miseries 
 which threaten it, and may heaven grant
 
 that mercy to you, which you shew to 
 her ! — No dishonour taints her name, nor 
 is she the child of poverty" — placing a 
 large casket in her hands. 
 
 The Abbess was softened ; and tak- 
 ing her from the arms of the Cavaher, — 
 " I do receive and will protect this child,^* 
 said sh«; "but tell me if she is to be 
 devoted to the service of her God I" 
 
 " Every instant is precious to her 
 safety as well as mine, therefore mark my 
 words ; she is now two years of age, and 
 if she be not claimed before she becomes 
 eighteen, do you decide her fate." 
 
 Then seizing the child, and clasping 
 li€r to his bosom, he yielded for a few mo- 
 ments to audible, and almost convulsive 
 grief: but at length replacing her in the 
 arms of her new protectress, and lifting 
 his eyes towards heaven, as if offering up 
 b2
 
 4 
 
 a fervent ejaculation, he instantaneously 
 disappeared. 
 
 The terrified child struggled to follow 
 the stranger, but finding her efforts in- 
 effectual, she turned her head to survey 
 the sisters in the long and gloomy per- 
 spective of the cloisters, from whom she 
 withdrew her eyes with added fright, and 
 hiding her face in the bosom of the 
 Abbess, burst into tears. 
 
 The superior hastened to her own 
 apartment, whither she was attended by 
 sister Magdalena; and the rest of the 
 nuns, after crossing themselves at this 
 extraordinary event, dispersed to their 
 different cells. 
 
 " Santa Maria!" exclaimed Mag- 
 dalena, "what a lovely babe it is; and 
 how costly the garments are in which it is 
 attired — ^butsee; she has sobbed herself
 
 to sleep. In truth she is a 3'oung travel- 
 ler, and probably has had little repose 
 during the whole day/' 
 
 The Abbess now gave orders for her 
 accommodation, and selected a proper 
 attendant from among the lay sisters; 
 who were in fact all emulous for an em- 
 ployment which promised a little variety 
 to the dull monotony of their daily avo- 
 cations. 
 
 Left alone with sister Magdalena, in 
 whom she wholly confided, the Abbess 
 began to debate r.pon, and in some mea- 
 sure to condemn, the too great facility 
 with which she had consented to the re- 
 quest of the Cavalier. He ought to have 
 related some of the circumstances which 
 compelled him to the sad necessity of 
 abandoning his child: for that she was so, 
 his agonized feelings plainly indicated: 
 or, she at least ought to have exacted 
 B 3
 
 from him the secret of his name. — Per- 
 haps she might injure the high reputation 
 of her Convent by engaging in so mysteri- 
 ous a transaction — perhaps at that mo- 
 ment she was unconsciously become the 
 accomplice in an act, which might involve 
 some noble family in misery, or deprive a 
 deserted wife of the only solace which 
 preserved her from distraction. 
 
 Self accusations of this sort, almost 
 chilled tijat compassion which had warm- 
 ed her bosom into benevolence; or at 
 least left her that restless, and uneasy sen- 
 sation which a well regulated mind some 
 times feels, when doubting whether it 
 has not yielded to the pleadings of sensi- 
 bility, rather than the decisions of judg- 
 ment. It was in vain that Magdalena 
 strove to dissipate those impressions* 
 She saw nothing in the circumstance to 
 excite such apprehensions, and believed 
 that the goodness of the motive, would
 
 render it acceptable to hiiik who judges 
 the heart. 
 
 To turn the subject in some mea- 
 sure, she proposed examining the casket, 
 which had hitherto remained untouched. 
 It was accordingly opened, and they werjp 
 both amazed at the number, and bril- 
 liancy of the diamonds it contained. 
 They could form no very accurate idea 
 of the value of them, but were convinced 
 it must be considerably great. A small 
 parcel wrapped up in paper, remained yet 
 to be examined. It contained two minia- 
 ture pictures set in plain gold. The 
 countenances of each were extremely 
 beautiful, and sister Magdalena uttered 
 an exclamation, protesting, that dim as 
 the light was when she saw the Cavalier, 
 she knew the gentleman^s portrait to be 
 intended for him. On the paper they 
 discovered a few lines evidently written 
 by a trembling hand. These were the 
 B 4
 
 8 
 
 words. ' Miniatures of the parents of my 
 * deserted Child: — Oh, teach her to love 
 ' and reverence them !' 
 
 It now appeared that the leaving her 
 at this Convent, however hastily conclud- 
 ed upon, had at least been pre-arranged, 
 and that all means which mis^ht lead to a 
 discovery Vv'ere studiously omitted. The 
 jewels, the pictures, and the dress of 
 the child, ail bore testimony that she 
 must belong to some family of elevated 
 rank. 
 
 Indulging, therefore, in the natural 
 propensity of her feeling heart, which 
 the imposing dignity of her station 
 sometimes compelled her to repress, 
 she began to anticipate a happy ter- 
 mination to this adventure; and at all 
 events determined that no accomplish- 
 ment should be omitted in the education
 
 of her Protezione, consistant with the ve-^ 
 gulations of a monastic hfe; and that her 
 choice, whether it was to return to the 
 world, or become a Rellgiosa^ should be 
 free, and unconstrained. These gene- 
 rous declarations were interrupted by the 
 entrance of the Lay Sister to whose care 
 the subject of them bad been assigned. 
 She presented the Superior with a small 
 enamelled locket, which she had found 
 fastened round the neck of the child by 
 a gold chain. On it was engraved 
 " Rosalie:' 
 
 " It is probably her name,^^ said the 
 Abbess. " When she awakes in the 
 morning call her Rosalie, and observe if 
 it is familiar to her.^^ i. 
 
 The Abbess of Swiia Agnese^ with a 
 
 very few exceptions, was greatly beloved 
 
 by the sister-hood. Her condescensions, 
 
 and the goodness of her heart, had en~ 
 
 B 5
 
 10 
 
 deared her to all those who could judge^ 
 and estimate her merit; and over those 
 who could not, she had acquired an in- 
 tire ascendency, without at all appearing 
 to exact it; for being born of a noble fa- 
 mily^ and possessing a most excellent un- 
 derstanding, she received from them that 
 homage which inferior minds involun- 
 tarily pay to superior birth and talents. 
 She bad witnessed the destruction of the 
 splendour of her house, by the event of 
 a law suit which despoiled it of both 
 wealth and honours; and seen her pa- 
 rents sink to the grave prematurely, the 
 victims of disappointed ambition* The 
 misfortunes of her family had spread a 
 melancholy over her mind, and given her a 
 distaste, to the world ; and she embraced 
 a monastic life more from reason, and the 
 love of retirement, than that enthusiastic 
 zeal which determines the choice of the 
 generality of self-elected devotees. Hence 
 her religion was divested of intemperate
 
 11 
 
 bigotry, and although uniformly good 
 and virtuous herself, she was not outrage- 
 ously severe on those whose conduct was 
 Jess free from error. A disposition so 
 rarely found amongst persons in her dig- 
 nified station, could neither fail of pro- 
 curing her admiration, nor exempt her 
 wholly from malice: for bad minds are 
 ever prone to envy, and envy can- 
 not exist but in secret approbation. 
 The few nuns who nourished this ma- 
 lignity against the Superior, were bound 
 by mutual promises of concealment 
 to each other, and guarded themsel- 
 ves from discovery with the utmosL 
 caution. 
 
 The next mornisig the attendant 
 presented her little smiling charge, in 
 the apartment of the Abbess, who 
 threw her eyes round the room as ifii] 
 search of somebodv, and then looked 
 grave. 
 
 b6'
 
 1£ 
 
 " Do you love me, my sweet Rosalie?^^ 
 asked the Abbess. 
 
 *' Yes,'' replied she, putting out he^ 
 coral lips to be kissed. 
 
 " I shall dote on this child;" said 
 the Abbess, seating her upon her knee at 
 the table on which lay the miniature 
 pictures. 
 
 " Pappa! Mammal" — exclaimed she 
 with vivacity, her eyes sparkling with de- 
 light; and stretching out her hands to 
 seize them. Then looking again impa- 
 tiently round the room, she called " Bian- 
 ca," and burst into tears. 
 
 Her knowledge of the pictures was 
 a couvincii]g proof that they v/ere resem- 
 blances of her parents ; and her own 
 name was as completely ascertained. 
 The uiicouirnon sweetness of hv '- disposi- 
 tion ever y,eW;;ng, and afleCLionute, scon
 
 13 
 
 made her the darling of the whole 
 community. 
 
 The Convent of Santa Agnese, situ- 
 ated on a gentle acclivity at the foot of 
 one of the Appennines, seemed a spot 
 consecrated by nature to devotional soli- 
 tude. It was surrounded by a grove of 
 dark Pines, and gigantic Chestnuts, the 
 contrast of whose fohage had a striking 
 effect, while their vast trunks, and wide 
 spreading branches, in many places ren- 
 dered leafless by agt;, and decay, inspired 
 reflections suitable to the solemnity of 
 the place. Beyond the wood, and to the 
 right and left, stupe nduous fragments of 
 rocks seemed piled one above another, 
 over which, rose the towering summits 
 of the mountain, whose outline broken, 
 and rising up in sharp points, v/as some- 
 times discovered tipjied v/ith snow, and 
 at oihers lost amidst the clouds. At a 
 distance a rude torrent precipitated itself
 
 14 
 
 from among the rocks; but soon lost lt9 
 turbulence, and formed a smooth stream, 
 as it wound round the outskirts of the 
 wood. Beyond this river there was an 
 opening to the adjacent country, which, 
 however, appeared dreary and trackless. 
 The Hamlet belonging to the Convent, 
 was disposed among the cavities of the 
 rocks: and the flocks grazed on the mar- 
 gin of the stream, or browzed on the 
 herbage which sprung in the crevices of 
 the rocks. Nature seemed to have re- 
 posed in this spot, after the toil of throw- 
 ing precipice upon precipice, in wild 
 confusion ; and the scene presented to 
 the eye of the moralist a faithful contrast 
 between the turbulence, and danger of a 
 busy life, and the happy tranquility of 
 retirement. 
 
 An ancient Abbey at the extremity 
 of the wood, was the only remaining hu- 
 man habitation within view; the Monks
 
 15 
 
 of which were of the order of White 
 Benedictines, all of whom must be of 
 noble descent. 
 
 Father Sebastiano, the Abbot, was 
 no less remarkable for the accomplish- 
 ments of his mind, than the sanctity of 
 his manners. As the youngest son of a 
 titled family, he was early designed for a 
 monastic life, to which he had not the 
 least repugnance, for his taste led him to 
 literary pursuits; and he anticipated the 
 enjoyment of leisure to prosecute his stu- 
 dies. As he had received the education 
 of a gentleman, and mixed in the best 
 societies, his conversation was polished, 
 and his manners elegant. 
 
 His appointment as Confessor to the 
 Convent of Santa Agnese, gave him pe- 
 culiar satisfaction, for he had been well 
 acquainted with the Lady Abbes in the 
 early part of his life, and the misfortunes
 
 16 
 
 of her family, and the equanimity with 
 which she bore them, had intitled her to 
 his esteem, long before he had found her 
 in that exalted station, which called forth 
 the energies of her mind, and displayed 
 the perfection of her character. The 
 high respect which each had felt for the 
 other, was succeeded by mutual confi- 
 dence and friendship; and scarce any 
 event of importance occurred in her 
 house, which the Superior did not com- 
 municate to Father Sebastiano. 
 
 The extraordinary introduction of 
 the little Rosalie into the Convent, was a 
 circumstance on which she greatly wished 
 to hear his opinion, and slie did not fail 
 to solicit his presence immediately. 
 
 The good Father partook of her sur- 
 prize and applauded her conduct. The 
 sii^htof the child affected him, and as he
 
 17 
 
 blessed her, a tear escaped from his eye. 
 His appearance gave her no alarm; on 
 the contrary she approached him with 
 some degree of playfulness, from which 
 they drew an inference that she must 
 have been accustomed to the notice of 
 some one who wore the same habit. 
 He bespoke for himself the pleasure of 
 becoming her instructor when her age 
 should qualify her to receive his les- 
 sons; and anticipated the delight he 
 should enjoy, whilst forming her mind to 
 the love of religion, wisdom, and science! 
 Sister Magdalena contested with him for 
 a participation in these employments, and 
 the excellent Lady Abbess felt the ut- 
 most joy in obtaining two such able as- 
 sistants towards the completion of her 
 designs. 
 
 While those benevolent beings were 
 thus employed, three of the sisterhood 
 who hated the Abbess in proportion as she
 
 18 
 
 was ad mi red and beloved, liad retired to the 
 most sequestered spot in ih? garden, 
 that they n^ight indulge in C( njectures 
 on this mysterious transaction, as they 
 termed it; and these professors of charity, 
 by dark hints, and unfinished sentences' 
 encouraged each other in unjust surmi- 
 ses, which they did not themselves be- 
 lieve ; and scrupled not to declare, 
 that on this foundation they would build 
 the ruin of the Superior. 
 
 Sister Ursula, mors cautious, al- 
 though not less malignant than the 
 others, declared against hasty measures. 
 Time, she said, would furnish them 
 with proofs, and perhaps procure them 
 fresh auxiliaries; and with this injunc- 
 tion they separated. 
 
 That it should thus be in the 
 power of evil mmds to prevent the
 
 19 
 
 best acrioiis, and destroy the peace of 
 the most meritorious characters, is a 
 mischief which can never be suffi- 
 ciently lamented, because it can nei- 
 ther be remedied, or prevented. 
 
 CHAPTER.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 — Poor is the friendless master of the world ! 
 The world in purchase of a friend, is gain 1 
 
 The happy years of infancy had 
 passed away, and Rosalie had daily ex- 
 hibited some new talent, or some fresh 
 grace, w^iich had still more endeared her 
 to the Abbess, Father Sebastiano, and 
 the generality of the sisterhood.
 
 21 
 
 Her education comprized, besides the 
 usual accomplishments allotted to her sex, 
 all those studies which the good Father 
 thought would refine and inform her 
 mind. He early led her into the habit 
 of thinking, of judging, and of forming 
 regulations for the conduct and oeconomy 
 of hfe; and knowing that her destiny 
 was obscure, and uncertain, he unceas- 
 ingly strove to inspire her with that reso- 
 lution which can surmount common evils, 
 and with that fortitude which would en- 
 able her to endure misfortune. The 
 strength of her memory, and the perse- 
 vering steadiness of her disposition, made 
 all her tasks easy to herself, and pleasant 
 to her instructors; and her gratitude 
 knew no bounds for the care and trouble 
 she was conscious they bestowed upon 
 her. The scientific lessons of Father 
 Sebastiano, were succeeded by those of 
 affectionate Magdalena, who, in herself,
 
 22 
 
 exhibited all the fascinations of feminine 
 elegance. 
 
 To the voice of Rosalie, she had 
 been particularly attentive. It was soft, 
 full, and melodious, and she had taught 
 her to modulate it, with the most exqui- 
 site perfection. The organ frequently 
 swelled with loud and solemn peals at 
 her touch, and her strains rose to Hea- 
 ven, at Matin, and evening Service. 
 
 The Convent at this time contained 
 some boarders of distinction, among whom 
 the your.g Oil via Harrazzi was the beloved 
 and attached friend of Rosalie. They 
 were inseparable in their studies, and 
 amusements, for the strong predeliction 
 of Rosalie in her favour, had introduced 
 her to the notice of Father Sebastiano. 
 Sometimes he accompanied them in their 
 walks round the precincts of the Monas- 
 tery, and while they gathered flowers
 
 23 
 
 for the subject of their pencils, he taught 
 them a knowledge of their structure and 
 virtues; and sometimes their love of Bo- 
 tany induced them to extend their ram- 
 bles to the rocks and cliffs which over- 
 hung the Hamlet, where they were de- 
 lighted to find the beautiful Saxifraga 
 Oppositafolia, the mountain Soldanella, 
 and other Alpine plants. 
 
 In these little excursions, every ob- 
 ject created an interest in their ardent 
 minds, as they either afforded some 
 moral lesson for Father Sebastiano, or 
 suggested some observation which arrest- 
 ed their attention and wonder. Thus 
 they grew up together in similarity of 
 taste, and thus they cemented that 
 friendship, which at all periods of life is 
 its best, and sweetest solace ! 
 
 Olivia, the only daughter of the 
 Marchese, and Marchesa di Barrazzi, had
 
 24 
 
 passed several years in the Convent of 
 Santa Agnese, The Marchesa, too much 
 engaged in the voluptuous pleasures of 
 Florence to wish to have any trouble in 
 the superintendance of her education, 
 had fortunately, although accidentally, 
 sent her there, having heard a lady of 
 her acquaintance speak highly of the 
 Abbess. She had decreed that she should 
 remain there until of a proper age to be 
 introduced in her parties; and directed 
 that no accomplishment should be omit- 
 ed, which might qualify her to become 
 an ornament to them. In these direc- 
 iions pride was the predominant motive ; 
 for she possessed none of these feelings 
 which excite the solicitudes of a tender 
 parent, and had no other object in view, 
 than that of gratifying her own ambition 
 by seeing her married into some noble 
 family. 
 
 Olivia had scarcely any thing to re-
 
 25 
 
 collect of her father, or her mother, she 
 had passed the whole of her time in the 
 nursery, previous to her arrival at the 
 Monastry, and as there were few days in 
 which they had leisure to see her, even 
 for a few moments, no memorial of their 
 kindness w^as engraven on her memory. 
 
 To her brother, who was some years 
 older than herself, she was most warmly 
 attached, and her affectionate heart boun- 
 ded with delight, whenever she spoke of 
 him. She remembered him to have been 
 the pride and boast of his family — remem- 
 bered that he alone had seemed to love 
 and cherish her, and could forever have 
 talked in his praise. She had not seen 
 him since she quitted her fathers Palazzo, 
 as he had been making the tour of Eu- 
 rope, and had passed over into England. 
 She was now sixteen, the period allotted 
 for her return; but as she was ignorant 
 of the enjoyments the world afforded^ 
 TOL. I. c
 
 26 
 
 and bad not any pleasure to anticipate 
 from the reception she should meet at 
 home, her bosom swelled with anguish 
 when she thought of quitting the Con- 
 vent. To leave so tranquil a scene; — to 
 be banished for ever from friends who 
 loved her, and above all, to lose Rosalie^s 
 society, gave her unspeakable grief. 
 
 Warm hearted, sanguine, and impa- 
 tient of disappointment, she wrote to the 
 Marchasa, describing the sorrow which 
 preyed upon her spirits at parting from 
 her companion, and intreating permission 
 to ask her to accompany her to Florence. 
 To give full force to this request, she did 
 not fail to speak of her friend in the most 
 enthusiastic language, and ascribed to 
 her influence all the advantages she had 
 derived from the instructions of Father 
 Sebastiano, and Sister Magdalena. She 
 insinuated likewise, that rather than quit
 
 27 
 
 Rosalie, she would willingly renounce 
 the world. 
 
 The Marchasa was disposed at first 
 to be seriously offended with this "ro- 
 mantic letter/^ but considering that a 
 companion of her own age would be con- 
 venient, and that if she returned home 
 gloomy and dissatisfied, she might de- 
 stroy the charm which the novelty of her 
 first appearence would create, she deter- 
 mined to accord her consent. 
 
 Olivia flew to the Abbess with the 
 letter of invitation, and throwing herself at 
 her feet, supplicated her consent to the 
 only event, which could save her from de- 
 spair, she said, at quitting the Convent, 
 The superior, after a few gentle remon- 
 strances on the too great vivacity of her 
 feelings, replied that she could not pro- 
 mise her acquiescence before she liad 
 consulted the inclinations of Rosalie, or 
 c 2
 
 2S 
 
 debated with herself on the propriety of 
 granting it. Poor Ohvia retired ex- 
 tremely disconcerted to her own cham- 
 ber, for she had imagined no further di- 
 fficulties, than what would arise from the 
 Marchasa, and could not restrain her tears, 
 at these unexpected obstacles. Tliat Ro- 
 salie should refuse her, if left to her 
 choice, she judged from the impulse of 
 her own heart to be impossible. But the 
 decision of the Superior — Oh ! she saw 
 that she had everything to dread from 
 that.— 
 
 The Abbess in the mean time seri- 
 ously deliberated on the possible advan- 
 tages Rosalie might derive from such an 
 introduction into the world. Of the 
 character of the Marchase, and Marchasa, 
 she had no high opinion; but their rank 
 and society were indisputably respectable. 
 It was now fourteen years since Rosalie 
 had become an inhabitant of the Con-
 
 29 
 
 vent. — No friend had owned iier, and in 
 a short time the fate of her future days 
 depended on herself. Could she wish 
 her to renounce the world without esti- 
 mating the superiority of a secluded hfe; 
 No: — she would not leave her the possi- 
 bility of believing that she might have 
 enjoyed a more happy destiny! — Might 
 not some discovery respecting her family 
 take place] or, might not some establish- 
 ment offer worthy of her acceptance? It 
 is true she had riches at her disposal, but 
 of what avail would they prove without a 
 proper introduction I Her own connec- 
 tions had receeded from her; and the 
 family of the Marchase promised advan- 
 tages, which she could not otherwise 
 procure. Her beauty, and accomplish- 
 ments were of no common stamp; — at 
 least in her opinion they could not be 
 viewed with indifference. She had the 
 most perfect confidence in her prudence, 
 and the rectitude of her principles, — 
 c 3
 
 30 
 
 What fears could she have at trusting 
 ber at a distance for six months? much 
 good might arise from it, and the m/was 
 barely possible! In fine she should feci 
 herself unjust, were she to refuse; and 
 Rosalie might think her unkind. — Yet 
 although her own reflections pointed out 
 this line of conduct, she was determined 
 to communicate them to Father Sebasti- 
 ano, before she made final arrangements 
 for the departure of Rosalie; and to re- 
 nounce her opinions unless they were 
 sanctioned by his approbation. 
 
 At noon, as she was walking with 
 Sister Magdalena, under the shade of the 
 cloisters the Father joined them, and she 
 instantly imparted to him the invitation 
 of the Marchasa, and requested his opi- 
 nion on the propriety of accepting it. 
 
 *« The peculiarity of the Signora's 
 situation'' said the Father, " has long
 
 31 
 
 given painful anxiety to my mind, and I 
 have wished, for some time past to in- 
 troduce the subject to you. Have you 
 not almost renounced the idea of her 
 ever being claimed by her family!" 
 
 " Indeed I fearfully begin to think 
 so. The Signor who appeared to be her 
 father, must have sunk under the misfor- 
 tunes which pursued him; and perhaps 
 no person who now lives, has a know- 
 ledge of her assylum/^ 
 
 " Have you then formed any de- 
 signs respecting the trust assigned you!" 
 
 "In truth Holy Father I have not. 
 I have deferred those considerations until 
 her own inclinations could be consulted. 
 She is unquestionably now of an age that 
 intitles her to an explanation of her situa- 
 tion, and thanks to your zalous cares, 
 C 4.
 
 52 
 
 has reason and judgement to decide for 
 herself/^ 
 
 " But has it never occurred to you 
 my good Mother, that to decide, she must 
 huve a comparative choice?" 
 
 *' I understand you Father. She 
 has seen nothing but a Convent, and 
 were she to become a recluse, could not 
 pveferahlij devote herself to her God. I 
 cannot forget that when I received her 
 first, I laid it down as a line of duty never 
 to fetter her will. My conscience now 
 tells me that I ought to place her in some 
 situation where she may make her own 
 comparisons, and perhaps a better oppor- 
 tunity could not have offered, than the 
 putting her under the care of the Mar- 
 chasa di Barrazze for a few months." 
 
 " Holy Mother," said Sfster Magda- 
 iena, *' your decisions are always guided
 
 33 
 
 By wisdom, prudence, and justice. Let 
 this dear child see this world so alluriiiGr 
 in description, so little capable of afford- 
 ing happiness in the reality! Her pure 
 soul will shrink from its deceptions, and 
 remain uncontaminated by its vices. 
 She will perhaps find nothing in it to ba- 
 lance against the fervour of her attach- 
 ment to us, and may return fully resolv- 
 ed to quit us no more". 
 
 " lam of opinion,^^ said Father Se- 
 bastiano, after a pause of a few moments^ 
 " that it would be wrong to reject an, 
 opportunity, to which no reasonable ob- 
 jection can be made; but as she is to be 
 introduced into a noble family,, and by 
 them to their friends, it is necessary she 
 should have a name. The mere appella- 
 tion of Signora Rosalie will not be suifi- 
 cient, unless you chuse to confide the 
 mystery which hangs over her^birlh, to- 
 the Marchasa." 
 
 C 6
 
 34 
 
 *' I should be unjustifiable — should T 
 uot?'^ asked the Abbess, " if I disclosed 
 the transaction before she was eiorhteen. 
 that being the period fixed by the Signor? 
 If a knowledge of her excellencies should 
 excite an interest for her welfeire in the 
 bosoms of the principles of this faniily, it 
 will hold out encouragement to me to ask 
 their advice and assistance when she 
 becomes wholly at my disposal. With 
 respect to bestowing a name upon her, 
 which as you justly observe is indispens- 
 ably necessary, she may take that of a 
 distant part of my family, now become 
 extinct. I will own that I have a thou- 
 sand inquietudes about her, should she 
 enter the world without proper protec- 
 tion. In talents, genious, and the rich 
 treasures of the mind, she will perhaps 
 be unrivelled; and these will create for 
 her the most dangerous enemies. The 
 rancour of those who envy mere personal 
 charms, will diminish as those beauties
 
 35 
 
 fade away; but intellectual endowments, 
 which improve daily, and can fascinate 
 when beauty is no more, afford subject 
 for unceasing hatred, which is always felt 
 in proportion to the superiority of the 
 object.'^ 
 
 **^ Your observations is correctly 
 true,^^ replied the Father, " and includes 
 the melancholy truth, that neither human 
 goodness, or human wisdom, can shield 
 us against evil designs. Those who pos- 
 sess conspicuous good qualities, assuredly 
 suffer most. Insignificant persons escape 
 slander, because they cannot excite envy; 
 and the vicious have open and avowed 
 enemies; but exalted merit can only be 
 assailed by secr(;t foe's, from whose rna* 
 chinations there is no defence, since ihey 
 can undermine the peace, and destroy 
 the happiness of an individual, by arts 
 too insiduous to be detected.'' 
 
 " You here agree with me/^ said the
 
 36 
 
 Abbess, with a deep sigh, " that it is 
 right this amiable girl should accompany 
 Olivia. I will therefore communicate 
 my intentions to her^ and prepare for her 
 departure.^^ 
 
 Rosalie was involved in a variety of 
 new and contending emotions, when the 
 Superior informed her of her journey to 
 Florence; and if pleasure was at first 
 mixed with surprise, it instantly yeilded 
 to the most keen sensation of regret. To 
 quit her happy abode — to mingle with 
 strangers, and enter upon a new world-, 
 whose customs and manners she was 
 ignorant of, appalled her spirits, and 
 she burst into tears. 
 
 The Abbess read the conflict in her 
 mind, and kissing her cheek, thanked 
 her for an attachment so gratifying. — 
 In a manner sweetly soothing to her 
 feelings, she entered upon an explana-
 
 37 
 
 tion of the motives which induced 
 her to consent to this temporary sepe- 
 ration. Rosahe hung over her with the 
 most rapt attention. In fact her mind 
 had never before been so deeply impress-i 
 ed by the circumstance which had placed 
 her under the care of the Lady Abbess; 
 and now that she was about to leave her, 
 she felt more accutely than ever the be- 
 nefits which had been conferred upon 
 her* 
 
 The Abbess directed her to adopt 
 the name of Albertino, and particularly 
 cautioned her to divulge no more of her 
 history than that she had been confided 
 to the care of the Abbess of Sanla Agnese, 
 by a relation. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the joy 
 of Olivia ! She no longer felt regrets at 
 leaving the Convent, since Rosalie was 
 to be her companion: yet the delicacy of
 
 3S 
 
 her feelings led her to repress it as much 
 as possible, as she fully comprehended 
 the cause of the tender melancholy of her 
 friend, and loved her still more for her 
 sensibility. 
 
 The Marchasa sent a carriage and an 
 escort to attend them, and the morning 
 arrived in which they were to depart for 
 Florence. The Nuns crowded round 
 them, and tears filled the eyes of most of 
 them, as they bestowed upon them their 
 parting prayers. Again, and again did 
 llosaUe return to the apartment of her be- 
 loved Superior, to hear the accents of her 
 voice once more, to feel again the pres- 
 sure of her embrace ! 
 
 " My child,^^ said the equally incon- 
 solable Abbess, " let us end a scene so 
 dreadfully afflicting to both. Go my 
 love: — Remember that it is my confi- 
 dence in your virtuous principles, which
 
 39 
 
 enables me thus to part with you. Re- 
 turn to my arms as pure, and as amiable 
 as you leave me, or the stroke of death 
 would for ever divide us'/' 
 
 " No,^' cried the weeping Rosalie, 
 as she threw herself at her feet, " I can- 
 not act unworthily; for your goodness 
 will be ever present to my imagination, 
 and my prayers shall be constantly offer- 
 ed up to that power who can alone make 
 me deserving of it/' 
 
 Sister Magdalena conducted her 
 lo the grate, and in a voice scarcely arti- 
 culate blessed her. The good Father 
 Sebastiano stood on the Terrazzo, Tears 
 might be traced in the furrows of his ve- 
 nerable countenance. She threw herself 
 on her knees to receive his parting 
 benediction. 
 
 '* Oh God I" said lie in a solemn
 
 40 
 
 voice, crossing his hands on his bosom, 
 and hfting his eyes devoutly towards 
 Heaven, " mercifully preserve this child 
 from the temptations of the world, and 
 avert misfortune from her; and if it be 
 thy blessed decree that we now see each 
 other for the last time on earth, may we 
 meet again in thy mansions of eternal 
 bliss !^^ 
 
 " Oh," cried Rosalie sobbing, " I 
 cannot, I will not go! What pleasures 
 has the world to bestow which can recom- 
 pence me for such a parting as this?^^ 
 
 The good Father without speaking 
 another word, c^ently lifted her into the 
 carriage; and hastily turning the corner 
 of the Terrazzo, was lost to her view in a 
 moment. Olivia received her weeping 
 friend in her arms, and although consi- 
 derably afflicted herself, used her utmost 
 endeavours to sooth and calm her spirits-
 
 41 
 
 •^ For the last thne,'^ said Rosalie, '* did not 
 the Holy Father pi edict that ue saw each 
 other for the last time! Alas!" bendiag 
 forward to catch another view of the fast 
 receding spires and turrets of the Convent, 
 *' Alas! perhaps I also see these vener- 
 able walls for the last tlme?'^ This idea 
 renewed her agony, and Ohvia finding 
 consolation useless, sat in silent sorrow 
 until the overflowing of her grief was 
 over. 
 
 They were at length aroused by the 
 extreme uneveness of the road, which to 
 then* terrified imaginations threatened 
 the most eminent danger: and the deso- 
 late prospect of Appenine upon Appe- 
 nine did not contribute to tranquilhze 
 their.spirits. One of the attending ser- 
 vants, who. was the Marchasa^s chief do- 
 mestic, as soon as he observed their ter- 
 ror, respectfully assured them of their 
 safetv, but at the same time informed
 
 42 
 
 them, that they should meet with the 
 same rugged ascents, and decents, for the 
 chief part of that day. 
 
 They now began to turn their atten- 
 tion to the bleak, and barren mountains, 
 whose stupendous sides were destitute of 
 herbage; as even grass, in the midst of 
 Summer, in attempting to spring up, was 
 withered by the keen north-east blast; 
 and whose pointed tops were covered with 
 perpetual snow. Rosalie drew out her 
 pencil, to sketch the summits of the 
 mountains,'as they rose one above another 
 in awful sublimity; and Olivia encourag- 
 ed the employment, as she saw it had a 
 tendency to dissipate the melancholy 
 which oppressed her. As no human 
 habitation appeared in view, they per- 
 took of refreshments which had been 
 provided for them, in the carriage, and 
 towards evening, after havino; descended 
 rapidly for'some time, they entered upon
 
 43 
 
 a country vvbich had the appearance oi 
 cultivation, and the road was here and 
 there shaded with Pine and Cypress trees. 
 Here they found a small Hamlet, at 
 which accommodations had been bespoke 
 for them, for the night. 
 
 They travelled on with little varia- 
 tion, until the third day, when they en- 
 tered upon beautiful plains and vallies, 
 which led to the environs of Florence, 
 and which were divided into small Farms 
 highly cultivated. Fruit trees of various 
 sorts abounded here, intermingled with 
 Cypress, Cedar, Pine, and Olive trees. 
 The fields were covered with Corn, Vines, 
 and Vegetables interspersed with large 
 plantations of Saffron, whose deep purple 
 blossoms, blending with the soft green of 
 the rich pasturage, produced a beautiful 
 effect. Large plantations of INI ul berry 
 trees were also visible, which flourished 
 so luxuriently in this spot, that, after af-
 
 44 
 
 fording food for two crops of Silk Worms, 
 they furnish fodder for their cattle in the 
 winter. 
 
 The Peasants appeared gay, rich, 
 and happy. In some places they were 
 seen reposing under the shade .of the 
 wide spreading Cedar; and in others, 
 attired in their Gctla suits, dancing to the 
 chearful sounds of the Pipe and Tambou- 
 rine. The dress of the female peasants was 
 truly picturesque, and pleasing. Their 
 hair was nicely adjusted under an elegant 
 little hat, worn just above the left ear, 
 and ornamented with flowers, and strings 
 of pearl. They w^ore ear-rings of six or 
 seven drops of pearl or gold, and several 
 rows of beads round their necks. Their 
 Corsets were of various coloured silks; 
 and their shift sleeves were puffed, and 
 tied with ribbons. Their petticoats were 
 of the same colour as the Corset, and long 
 ribbons descended from their shoulders^
 
 45 
 
 which waved with the wind, as they mov- 
 ed, or walked. 
 
 This was a scene to rouse all the en- 
 thusiasm of the young travellers, having 
 seen nothing beyond the Convent of 
 Santa Agtiese, every thing they now be- 
 held astonished, and delighted them. 
 The female peasants all appeared beauti- 
 ful, and their dress gave a magic to their 
 charms, which rendered them irresistably 
 attractive. " Oh l^^ thought Rosalie, 
 
 •' if every scene I am to encounter in the 
 new world on which I am entering, proves 
 as fascinating as this, I feel that 1 must 
 inevitably love it — " but at the same 
 moment her affectionate heart heaved a 
 sigh of regret as she recollected her belov- 
 ed friends at the Convent. 
 
 They had now reached the banks of 
 the Arno, whose majestic stream flows 
 through one of the most lovely vallies in
 
 46 
 
 the universe. All the beauties which 
 nature can bestow, are here embellished 
 by the most perfect works of art. Mag- 
 nificent Villas, formed ot marble, and ex- 
 ecuted in the most exquisite style of 
 Tuscan architecture, every where met 
 their admiring eyes : which at length 
 were fixed on the Cathedral Church, II 
 Duamo in Florence. They next crossed 
 the noble Bridge thrown over the Arno, 
 which is so much admired for the singu- 
 lar construction of its Cycloid Arches, 
 and in a short time afterwards their car- 
 riage stopped under the Collonade of the 
 INIarchase's Palazzo, 
 
 The travellers were conducted through 
 a long suit of splendid rooms, into a no- 
 ble library, where a young man of ele- 
 gant appearance sat reading. He started 
 up as they approached; and Olivia ex- 
 claiminof " It must be! — it is mv bro- 
 ther!" rushed into his arms.
 
 47 
 
 After their expressions of mutual 
 joy at this meeting had ceased, Olivia 
 said — " my dear Leonardo, this is my be- 
 loved friend Rosalie Albertino. Look at 
 her; and when you have seen her, you 
 will know only one half of her perfections. 
 You will therefore judge what she really 
 
 " I see a face so pre-eminently 
 lovely,," replied he, " that I know not 
 how I can feel more admiration than 1 do 
 at present :" and he respectfully kissed 
 her hand. 
 
 Rosalie was spared the attempt of 
 answering this gallantry, by the entrance 
 of the Marchasa. Olivia threw herself at 
 the feet of her mother, who raising her^ 
 looked at her for a moment with sur[)rise 
 and pleasure, and then kissing her cheek, 
 said, " Olivia, you are much improved.
 
 48 
 
 I am delighted to see that you are grown 
 quite handsome \" 
 
 Olivia blushed; but it was not the 
 blush of satisfaction ; for she at least was 
 not delighted with this reception. Taking 
 the hand of Rosalie, she presented her 
 to the Marchasa, who had prepared for 
 her a very gracious smile; but withdraw- 
 ing her eyes the moment she beheld her, 
 and fixing them upon her daughter, as 
 though she was making a comparison be- 
 tween them, with a mortified air, she 
 coldly saluted her. 
 
 This did not pass unobserved, either 
 by Leonardo, or Olivia, and the latter was 
 greatly pained by it; but it was not 
 noticed by Rosalie, who in truth knew 
 not but that it might be the manner prac- 
 tised by all persons of the Marchasa's 
 rank, and who had not been prepared 
 to expect much affectionate kindness
 
 49 
 
 to herself from her neglect of her daugh- 
 ter. 
 
 Some little conversation now took place, 
 respecting their journey, and the badness 
 of their accommodation; and the evening 
 being far advanced, the Marchesa, in con- 
 sideration of their great fatigue, dismissed 
 them to their repose. 
 
 VOL. !•
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 She is more than fame can speak of her ! 
 
 Promise is struck blind, and deaf, and dumb, with her *. 
 
 She doth astonish comynendction ! 
 
 Ben Jonsoji. 
 
 The Marchesa had ordered a suit 
 of apartments to be prepared for the re- 
 ception of Ohvia and her friend, at a dis- 
 tance from her own ; but in this arrange-
 
 51 
 
 meut, she had studied her own conveni- 
 ence, more than their comfort ; for as she 
 did not mean that they should lay a re- 
 straint upon her time, or amusements, 
 she had adopted this plan, in order to 
 convey to them the intimation, that their 
 society would be requested at their leisure 
 hours. Rosalie and Olivia were delighted 
 at this regulation, as it seemed to promise 
 less interruption to the enjoyment of each 
 other's society, and tlieir usual studies, 
 than they had dared to hope- As they 
 were both early risers, they had full time 
 to examine their apartments, whieh were 
 fitted up in the true slvie of Italian ele- 
 gance, and furnished with books, musical 
 instruments, materials for drawing and 
 work, and a profusion of flowers most 
 beautifully disposed. Olivia waited im- 
 patiently for the summons to breakfast, 
 as she had not yet seen her father ; and 
 she followed the servant, who appeared 
 D 2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 «i^/V£RslTYOFnuNO«
 
 52 
 
 to conduct them to the saloon, uiih a 
 heating heart. Expecting to see only a 
 family party, she started back on perceiv- 
 ing more than a dozen people seated at 
 the breakfast table ; but she caught the 
 eye of her father, who extended his hand 
 to her, which she flew to press in her 
 own : and thus ended the ceremony 
 of a meeting which she had anticipated 
 with so much pleasure. They were then 
 introduced to the visitors ; and Leonardo 
 conducting them to seats, placed himself 
 between them. The Marchesa was too 
 much taken up in distributing breakfast 
 to her guests to pay them much attention, 
 andthelSIarchese satin profound thought, 
 with his eyes fixed upon Rosalie: in- 
 deed he had scarcely ever withdrawn 
 them, from the moment she had been 
 presented to him. To relieve her from 
 the embarrassment she visibly felt, Leo- 
 nardo introduced the subject of their
 
 53 
 
 journey across the Appenhie^, and led 
 both lier and his sister to expatiate on tho 
 delight they experienced from the con- 
 trast they found on their approach to the 
 environs of Florence. From the general 
 conversation which ensued, they learnt 
 that the Marchesa, who was, or chose to 
 appear, passionately fond of music, gave a 
 concert that evenino: to the chief of ilie 
 nobility in Florence; and that the com- 
 pany assemJjled were there for the pur- 
 pose of a morning rehearsal ; and they 
 proceeded from the saloon to the concert 
 room, for that purpose. 
 
 As they passed through a long suit of 
 apartments, Rosalie was struck with 
 astonishment at the noble proportion of 
 the rooms, and the richness of the furni- 
 ture. The windows cut down to the floor 
 opened under a lofty piazza of white mar- 
 ble, which extended the whole length of 
 D 3
 
 54 
 
 tiie back front ; above wliicli were halco- 
 nies, covered with silk avvnirtg^, and oroa- 
 men ted with flowers of the uicj»t fragrant 
 scent, pbced in beautiful Etruscan va<ici?, 
 AU thes^e windo vs l<K>ked upon a lawn, 
 which sloped gradually to the banks of 
 the Arno, and was enibeliisbed \iith 
 cJuoi^^ of trees, whose hisuriant brandies 
 bendicg aimo^t to the ground, zd^ordt'd 
 recesses for seats, and entire shade from 
 the jsuitry rays of the sun. All iliis 
 seemed eiichaiitmeiit to ilosalie, uho 
 mentally compared it to the nide environs 
 o^ Santa Agncse^<\n(jk wondered liovv those 
 who had moved in scenes hke these could 
 ever voluntarily renounce them. 
 
 As the concerts of the ^larchesa were 
 considered as an Accademla di Alus'ica, 
 many of the performers were persons of 
 rank of both sexes. The countenances 
 of Rosalie and Olivia expressed the rap-
 
 55 
 
 ture they felt. Indeed it might with 
 truth be sv<id, tlijis licHbef of th^^m ba*l 
 ajjy idea of the timne perkcuon to «vbich 
 harmony might he brought by the union 
 of so many instrumeuts skilfully touched. 
 
 During the first pause \a the perform- 
 ance, Leonardo said, " I would not mor- 
 tify myself so much as to doubt my sis- 
 ter's being musical, and 1 hope my motiier 
 will command me to lead her to the 
 piano forte/^ 
 
 The Marchesa smiled her assent, and 
 Olivia took her seat without reluctance ; 
 but, observing that this was a sort of inter- 
 lude between theacts,she added, she hoped 
 she might be accompanied by the voice 
 of Rosalie. Solicitations, when she had 
 the power to oblige, required no repeti- 
 tion with her ; and, as she felt not the 
 terrors which arise from competition, or 
 D 4
 
 56 
 
 the fear of criticism, she acc|uitted herself 
 with perfect ease. The air was a compa- 
 sition of iMagdalena's, who had a scienti- 
 fic knowledge of music, and was calcu- 
 lated to display the astonishing compass 
 and flexibility of her voice, and to give 
 full effect to the sweetness and pathos of 
 her expression. The accompaniment 
 was uncommonly fine, and Olivia execut- 
 ed it with the greatest taste and judge- 
 ment. An almost breathless silence pre- 
 vailed during the performance ; but when 
 it ended, the applause of the little party 
 was so rapturous, that it almost discon- 
 certed the two friends, who certainly 
 never had received such encomiastic ap- 
 probation before. 
 
 Leonardo approached Rosalie. His ex- 
 pressive eyes spoke the feelings of his 
 soul, but his accents faltered, and bis 
 hand trembled in her's, as he led her to a
 
 5T 
 
 seat. The company were clamourous in 
 their congratulations to the Marchesa, on 
 the exquisite skill of her daughter and 
 her guest, and entreated that parts might 
 be assii2:ned to them in the performance 
 of the evening. This was a moment which 
 gratified the ambition of the Marchesa to 
 its utmost extent. To see Olivia a com- 
 plete mistress of that charming science 
 which in a land of harmony like Italy is 
 considered as the first attainable perfec- 
 tion ; and to witness the eclat of her in- 
 troduction, swelled her proud bosom with 
 joy and exultation. The attraction of 
 Rosalie's voice, was another cause of tri- 
 umph ; and, in the acquisition she foresaw 
 it would prove to her concert, she was 
 almost induced to forgive the transcend- 
 ant superiority of her beauty. 
 
 " Ah !'' said Leonardo to his sister, in 
 a voice too low to be overheard, " T am 
 » 6
 
 58 
 
 punished for the scepticism I dared ven- 
 ture to avow, when you first introduced 
 your beauteous friend to me. My heart 
 is now too powerfully assailed for resist- 
 
 ance/^ 
 
 *' Then, my brother,'^ replied she, 
 laughing, '• I advise you either to fly or 
 submit; for, depend upon it, your assail- 
 ants will multiply every hour/' 
 
 " May I venture to enquire," said 
 Count Marioni, addressing Rosalie, " the 
 name of the composer of that sweet air, 
 you sung so divinely/' 
 
 '' The composer is a lady, a most dear 
 friend of mine," answered Rosalie with a 
 sigh, " and it neither has been, or ever will 
 be published." 
 
 ** Your friend's humility then is equal
 
 69 
 
 to her merit ; for it certainly is one of the 
 sweetest compositions I ever heard." 
 
 ** HumiHty indeed would be her cha- 
 racteristic, were she in any other situation 
 in life than that in which fate has placed 
 her ; and her talents, all charming as 
 they are, were solely exerted by affec- 
 tionate friendship. The difficulty of ob- 
 taining new music in a convent, among 
 the Apennines, induced her to recom- 
 mence her study of it. She was my pre- 
 ceptress; and my pride and gratitude 
 alike prompt me to tell you, that I speak 
 of Sister Magdalena, of the convent of 
 Santa AgneseP 
 
 *' Magdalena !'* exclaimed the Count: 
 
 " Yes, ray Lord.'' 
 
 JD 6
 
 60 
 
 " Was she your friend!'^ said he, with 
 much emotion. 
 
 " I can boast that she indeed is so,** 
 replied Rosalie. 
 
 *' I once could boast the same," replied 
 he, as with a melancholy air he quitted 
 her. 
 
 " I have revived some painful recollec- 
 tion in the Count," said she to Leonardo. 
 " which I am truly sorry for." 
 
 '* Can any one feel a painful sentiaaent, 
 whilst he looks at you, or hears you ?" 
 
 " How happy it is for me," replied she, 
 smiling, " that so recent a fact proves you 
 can be mistaken : I might, otherwise, 
 grow vain."
 
 61 
 
 " If my opinion has proved erroneous, 
 in one instance," replied Leonardo, " I 
 have formed it on a principle that seldom 
 does so ; that of estimating the feelings 
 of anotlier by my own." 
 
 The guests, now about to disperse, ap- 
 proached to take leave ; and the Mar- 
 chesa, as soon as she found herself sur- 
 rounded by her family party only, express- 
 ed the high gratification she had received 
 from the performances of Olivia and Ro- 
 salie, in such kind expressions as surpriz-. 
 ed Leonardo. Availing himself of her 
 good humour, he attempted to lead them 
 to the piano forte again ; but she assured 
 him that several people were waiting for 
 them to select dresses for their eveninsr 
 appearance ; and took them instantly 
 away. 
 
 Rosalie combated with the Marchesa's
 
 62 
 
 kindness as Inng^ as she could do so wfth- 
 out giving offence ; for tlie habit she 
 chose {' )v her, she thought too spleiidid : 
 while lliv'ia, forgetful of herself, was oc- 
 cupied entirely in choosing the most beau- 
 tiful things for her friend ; « rying out ev ery 
 instant, *' My dear Rosaliv% this wiii ; j- 
 come you so j)rodigiously, that you must 
 have it/^ At length this important busi- 
 ness was adjusted, the M^rchesa having 
 decided that their dresses should be ex- 
 actly of the same make, and only differ ia 
 colour. 
 
 On this day, the dinner-party consisted 
 of their own family only, and the Mar- 
 chese had thrown aside his thoughtful 
 humour, and became so far agreeable 
 as to ask an infinite niiinber of questions 
 of llosalie. The good sense with which 
 she answered him, as well as her graceful 
 manner, could not escape the obser-
 
 63 
 
 vation of a man of the world ; who, 
 whether from a trial of skiii, or other 
 motives, known only lo himself, never 
 rested satisfied until he had drawn an 
 estimate of the qualities, endowments, 
 and deficiencies of those with whom he 
 associated. His discernment certainly 
 did not mislead him, when he pronounc- 
 ed, mentally, that Rosalie was an extraor- 
 dinary young woman, and as such he 
 thought her worthy of future attention 
 and investigation. 
 
 When the hour of the concert approach- 
 ed, the Marchesa, who piqued herself 
 on her critical taste in dress, summoned 
 Olivia and her friend to her dressing 
 room ; and, after having passed her ap- 
 probation upon them, they descended to- 
 gether into the suit of apartments appro- 
 priated to receive the company. All the 
 glowing descriptions which Rosalie had
 
 64 
 
 i-ead, in the works of the English and 
 Italian poets, faded before the scene of 
 enchantment which now presented itself. 
 The wide folding doors between each 
 apartment were thrown back, and con- 
 cealed behind panels carved and painted 
 in a masterly manner, and from the top 
 of each of them there were suspended 
 curtains of silk richly brocaded and trim- 
 med with silver fri'ige, which being 
 drawn up in graceful folds of drapery, 
 formed a most magniticent arcade the 
 whole length of the suit of apartments. 
 Venetian mirrors, which reached down to 
 the floor, multiplied the lights which 
 were placed between ihem in candelubros 
 of exqiiisite workmanship; and superb 
 glass chandeliers suspended from the ceil- 
 ings, oave still greater brilliancy to the 
 rooms. The floors were bordered all 
 round with erosion paintings, to imitate 
 the finest Mosaic work ; and the recesses
 
 m 
 
 were every where filled with the most 
 beautiful plants and trees loaded with 
 fruit, in the midst of which were placed 
 ices, Uqiwrs, and every sort of refresh live nt. 
 These recesfses were- illuminated by tri- 
 pods suspended from the hands of finely 
 sculptured marble figures, as large as life, 
 whose perfect symetry and halcyon coun- 
 tenances inspired the belief that they 
 were the protecting deities of the place. 
 The Marchesa had taken extraordinary 
 pains with these decorations, in honour 
 of Olivia^s first introduction; who, toge. 
 ther with Rosalie, was stationed at her 
 side, to receive the compliments of the 
 company. Never had the Marchesa seen 
 her rooms so much crowded ; never before 
 found herself so much elated by the 
 cansciousness of her own importance. 
 The performance of the Signoras in the 
 morning, and the report circulated of 
 their uncommon charms, had attracted
 
 66 
 
 almost every person of rank )n the place; 
 and she iocrked around iicr with n com* 
 placenry m:nrcdy known to h^r»€\f, 
 resulting from the conviction that the 
 proud and aspiring wishes of her heart 
 were nearly accomplished. 
 
 When the concert room was thrown 
 open, another, bnt a different hiiihant 
 scene was displayed. The walls were 
 hung with a pale blue Genoa damask, 
 drawn up in festoons by wreaths of arti- 
 ficial flowers, and the knots which tied 
 them up, fortned of coloured lamps, to 
 imitate rich and beautiful ribbons. The 
 windows, thrown open to admit the cool 
 and fragrant air, scented with the delici- 
 ous perfume of the adjacent shrul)beries, 
 afforded access to the piazza, whose lofty 
 marble pillars threw a blaze of light 
 from the coloured lamps which entwined 
 them.
 
 6? 
 
 Among the many happy beings thus 
 ihkv.vn together, none appeared sfo happy 
 m Sigtjor Leonardo, llh young friends 
 congratnhjtc^d him on thcj beauty of his 
 sister, whom ha greatly loved, and he 
 heard the most extravagant encomiums 
 passed on RosaUe, whom he adinired 
 almoi^t to idolatry; and tht-se two cir^ 
 cumstances, so welcome and interesting 
 to his heart, gave additional spirit to hi^ 
 features, and inimitable grace to his man- 
 ner. Olivia played the first sonata ; and 
 even the performers who accompanied 
 her were astonished at the rapidity and 
 taste with which she had executed it. 
 She arose amidst a buz of apj)lause ; and 
 the delighted mother heard these enco- 
 miums on her skill with pride, as well as 
 pleasure. 
 
 After some other pieces had been ex- 
 quisitely performed, the Marchese him- 
 self conducted Rosalie to the orchestre.
 
 63 
 
 Leonardo was instantly at her si<le, for he 
 perceived that she shrunk from the ob- 
 servation to which her elevated sitiution 
 exposed her. The words, " How lovely 
 she is ! — What transcendent beauty l'^ — 
 distinctly reached her ear, and added to 
 her ennbarrassment. To give her lime to 
 iTCover from it, he exclaimed to a gentle- 
 man who was preparing to accompany her 
 on the violin, in a gay tone, '* My dear 
 ISIassini, you have long enchanted others, 
 it is now your turn to feel what you so 
 often create." 
 
 " x\h !" retorted Signor Massini, "what- 
 ever my feelings may have been hereto- 
 fore, I perceive that I must now fall a 
 martyr to them." He bowed to Rosalie 
 as he spoke ; and by asking her some 
 questions about the accompaniment, fixed 
 her attention so far upon the music, 
 that she forgot every thing else. Every
 
 69 
 
 pause she made was filled with the most 
 rapturous expression of delight ; and at 
 the concluding cadence, in which she 
 displayed the richness of her taste, and 
 the perfect knowledge she possessed of 
 all the varied powers of modulation, the 
 astonishment she excited, was little short 
 of the applause. 
 
 At the conclusion of the concert, th« 
 company promenaded in the adjacent 
 apartments, or sat conversing in detached 
 parties. The Marchese joined that of 
 Rosalie. " Signora Albertino," said he, 
 '* did the laurel crown belong to the 
 Muse of Harmony as well as to the God 
 of Poetry, your claim to it would be in- 
 disputable. Your voice certainly is one 
 of the finest Italy at present can boast. 
 That is the gift of nature ; but how did 
 you aquire such judgement T^
 
 70 
 
 '* I had friends, my Lord, who excelled 
 so greatly, that 1 fear I do not half the 
 credit to their lessons, which 1 oiight.^^ 
 
 " Oh !'^ cried Olivia, with vivacity, *' in 
 a convent, on the Apennines, where there 
 is nothing to amuse or agitate the spirits, 
 the mind is always disposed to harmony. 
 It was our only recreation; our unceasing 
 pursuit : and those only can know the in- 
 exhaustible pleasure which music can 
 bestow, who have been deprived of every 
 other. If I could have danced under the 
 shade of a spreading chesnut-tree, as I 
 saw the peasants do on our road to Flo- 
 rence, I am sure I should not have de- 
 voted so much tiqie to my harpsichord.'' 
 
 " Can you have forgot,^^ said Rosalie, 
 smiling, " that we had lessons in drawing, 
 and that our studies might be termed 
 pleasures, from the manner in which they
 
 71 
 
 were taught l And that the good Father 
 SebasticUio wandtred with us to the mar- 
 gin of rh(^ river, and up the sices of the 
 mouiitaiiiS, to teach us the interesting 
 science of!)otanv I Can von have foroot 
 the animated pleasure v\idi which we 
 have flown to crop a blossom undiscover- 
 ed before; with, what dehght we have 
 found its rank in the vast scale of that 
 organized system; and whilst we con- 
 templated its beauties, learnt also its vir- 
 tues, and its use V^ 
 
 " Your representations differ material- 
 ly,'^ said Signor Barrazzi, laughing. "That 
 of Signora Rosalie reminds me of the 
 glowing tints of Claude Lorraine ; while 
 Olivia seems only to use the cold and 
 sombre colours of Leonard! di Vinci/* 
 
 " It is a fact,'' observed Count Marioni, 
 " that all objects take thtir tint through
 
 n 
 
 the medium of our imaginations. A cot- 
 tap^e will be decorated with all the ap- 
 pendages necessary for ease and happiness, 
 by those who are tortured with agony in 
 their splendid palazzos ; and, contrary to 
 the laws of good sense and reason, we 
 lose the enjoyments we really possess, by 
 fancying others superior, which are be- 
 yond our reach. It is, no doubt, a wise 
 ordination that those who have the fewest 
 temptations to pleasure, are most likely 
 to be happy, since they are contented 
 with the most simple enjoyments/^ 
 
 " Ah !'^ said Rosalie, " according to 
 this argument, the ignorant alone can be 
 truly happy, which I should be sorry for ; 
 as I should much rather derive my felicity 
 from reflection, and even subdued feel- 
 ings, than from so ignoble a source/* 
 
 *' You are a philosopher it seems,'*
 
 73 
 
 cried the Marchese, with a cold and scru- 
 tanizing look. 
 
 " Only in the original acceptation 
 of the word,*^ replied Rosalie, timidly ; 
 fearful she had said too much, *' I am a 
 lover of wisdom only,'^ 
 
 *' Your sentiments prove," said Leo- 
 nardo, gaily, " that you study as well as 
 love it; and falling from your lips, they will 
 gain you more admirers than any of the 
 Heathen Philosophers could boast. I in- 
 list myself as the most devoted of your 
 disciples/^ 
 
 The Marchese looked grave, and 
 walked away ; and Rosalie appeared still 
 more abashtd. Signor Massini broke the 
 pause, by asking if she did not play ? 
 
 " Incomparably well, both on the 
 harp and the forte piano," answered 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 
 
 Olivia : " for my promise not to divulge 
 it, before the concert was over, is now at 
 an end/' 
 
 In fact Rosalie had bound Olivia 
 not to mention it, from the most generous 
 motive possible. She had observed how 
 much the Marchesa was delighted with 
 her daughter's performance ; and, as she 
 could not be ignorant that her own judge- 
 ment and execution were infinitely su- 
 perior, she ardently wished to avoid les- 
 sening the merit of her friend, or even to 
 divide the praises which were bestowed 
 upon her ; and had used her utmost en- 
 deavours to prevail upon Olivia to conceal 
 that she played at all. Olivia as warmly 
 contested the design, the motive for which 
 she could not but conjecture, though she 
 forbore to speak of it, and a compromise 
 was at length made, that it should not be 
 known until the concert was over. In ac- 
 quiring this talent, Rosalie had possessed
 
 75 
 
 many advantages beyond Olivia. She 
 had been seated on the lap of Sister Mag- 
 dalena at the organ, when almost an in- 
 fant ; and her musical lessons alternately 
 succeeded those which she received in 
 her native language. Magdalena, besides 
 being a perfect mistress of the science, 
 had every requisite necessary to form a 
 fine player. Her taste and ear were ex- 
 quisite, her manner graceful, and she was 
 unwearied in her instructions. Hervouns: 
 pupil, therefore, early caught her enthu- 
 siasm, and soon imitated her practice ; 
 and when Olivia entered the convent, 
 was the first to teach her her lessons, and 
 as long as she remained there, continued 
 her preceptress. Leonardo reproached his 
 sister for the cruelty of her concealment, 
 and protested that he would have full 
 satisfaction for it the following morning. 
 
 The Marche-=ia's noble guests retired 
 in raptures with the loveliness of Rosalie's 
 e2
 
 76 
 
 person, and the fascinating sweetness of 
 her voice. Count Marioni was her pro- 
 fessed admirer, and Signor Massini had 
 ah'eady swallowed large draughts of the 
 delicious poison of love. The Marchesa 
 herself had enjoyed an evening of proud 
 triumph, not over others, but in her own 
 bosom, at the successful progress of her 
 long projected plans. The devoted slave 
 of grandeur, ambition was the ruling prin- 
 cij)le of her mind ; and the possession of 
 immense wealth, although it ensured her 
 the splendour which she loved, did not 
 satisfy her aspiring soul. A title of in- 
 ferior degree, whilst another of higher 
 rank was to be attained, was cause only 
 for mortification ; nor could she be satis- 
 fied with one less than the highest be- 
 stowed upon a subject. To this object 
 all her efforts had bent ; all her artifices 
 had been employed. She had courted 
 those in power ; she had been the tool of 
 party ; she had dispensed her w^ealth
 
 with prodigal extravagance; hut all in 
 vain. Convinced at length that tliese 
 honours could not be atchieved by her 
 own person, she had transferred her hopes 
 to her children ; and, for this purpose no 
 expence had been spared in the education 
 of her son ; and her daughter had been 
 sent to a covent, where she had heard 
 the graces of the person were as likely to 
 be improved as those of the mind. She 
 had studied the world too much not to 
 be aware that iwceltij creates a double 
 portion of admiration ; and, for this reason, 
 Leonardo had been sent on a three years 
 tour, and Olivia consigned to a convent, 
 until she arrived at a proper age to be in- 
 troduced. The appearance of both went 
 even beyond her most sanguine expecta- 
 tions. Olivia was beautiful, amiable, 
 and accomplished : Leonardo interesting, 
 graceful, and intelligent, with a mind no 
 less noble than his figure. An alliance 
 with two families she had in view, would 
 E 3
 
 78 
 
 strengthen their interest so much, that 
 there could be no doubt of their obtain- 
 ing a ducal coronet now lying dormant in 
 the family. The high degree of appro- 
 bation she had heard bestowed upon 
 them, was less flattering to her affection 
 than her ambition ; and the visions of her 
 fancy seemed so far realized, that she 
 believed no obstacle remained to be sur- 
 mounted. If, tor a moment, she thought 
 of the superior attractions of Rosalie, her 
 fears subsided when she reflected on the 
 obscurity of her connexions, her compa- 
 rative poverty and dependant state. 
 
 The Marchese, although equally am- 
 bitious as his lady, was more cautious in 
 concealing it. Cold hearted, and desti- 
 tute of every exalted sentiment, the whole 
 study of his life had been to act up to au . 
 assumed character; and, from the con- 
 sciousness, perhaps, of iiis own duplicity, 
 he was suspicious and observing of every
 
 79 
 
 one else. He had lived among scenes of 
 the greatest dissipation, and indulged 
 himseit in every excess; and if his pas- 
 sions now appeared to kept within bounds, 
 it was not because he had grown more 
 virtuous, but because he had become a 
 greater adept at concealment. At an 
 early aire, and ir. a violent fit of short- 
 lived aiTection, ho had prevailed upon the 
 Marchesa, who uas descended of a noble 
 family, to sniarry him clandestinely. This 
 dishonourable act, as well as h/is want of 
 fortune and merit, deprived him of all the 
 advantages he had promised himself from 
 the union ; for although he had loved the 
 ^larchesa at the time, yet self-interest 
 was not without its share in his bosom. 
 Ruined in fortune and disgraced in cha- 
 racter, he and the Marchesa lived for 
 some years in abject obscurity, when the 
 death of his elder brother, by giving him 
 rank and riches, restored him to the world, 
 and reconciled him to her family. In 
 E 4
 
 80 
 
 order to obliterate the remembrance of 
 their past follies and disgraceful exile, 
 the Marchese assumed the appearance of 
 entire reformation, and the ISIarcliesa at- 
 tracted round her the most fashionable 
 society by the spfcndour of her establish- 
 ment, the elegance of her entertain- 
 ments, and the most unbounded liberality. 
 As the Marchese's regard for her had 
 long ceased, he seldom interfered with 
 her arrangements; he was satisfied with 
 observing the end to which they all tend- 
 ed, and pleased that they allowed him 
 the uninterrupted enjoyment of his time 
 and amusements. Still a libertine in prin- 
 ciple, the first si^ht of Rosalie had in- 
 spired him with no less surprise than ad- 
 miration ; and a further view of her beau- 
 tiful features excited a palpitation in his 
 bosom which he knew not how to account 
 for, but by supposing she resembled some 
 one to whon:i his heart had formerly been 
 attached. If so, that heart had been
 
 81 
 
 more faithful than his memory; for He 
 strove in vain to recollect ever having 
 seen any one so perfectly lovely before. 
 tie had learnt her dependent situation 
 fr<>m the letters of Olivia ; and^ with that 
 faeihty of belief with which evil minds 
 jiuloj^ of others, had dared to suppose 
 that he could easily tempt an inexperinc- 
 ed girl to exchange the gloom of a con- 
 vent for the pleasures of the world and 
 unt'ounded admiration. These hopes 
 were, hov\ever, dashed away, by a further 
 observation ; for he perceived that she 
 possessed a decisive character, and a dig- 
 nity of mind rarely to be found in her 
 sex, and still more so at her age. He ob- 
 served, that although there w^as a graceful 
 vivacity in her manner, she was totally 
 devoid of the pert aflfectation of wit, or 
 the vain desire of excitirii^ exclusive at- 
 tention ; and he could not avoid owning 
 to himself, rhat she appeared totally inac- 
 cessible to flatterv or adulation. He was
 
 82 
 
 a strict, though unsuspected observer of 
 her conduct during, and after, the con- 
 cert, yet his sentiments became paradoxi- 
 cal even to himself: for although he 
 adored the loveliness of her person, and he 
 was compelled to own the superior en- 
 dowments of her mind, yet the latter 
 were contemplated with something like 
 uneasiness ; and he, mentally, enquired of 
 himself — " shall I love, or hate her?'^ 
 
 Unconscious of the emotions she had 
 excited, the slumbers of Rosalie were,ne. 
 vertheless, broken and disturbed. The en- 
 chantments of the evening rose again to 
 her view : — the melody of the music died 
 again on her ear. She awoke, and listen- 
 ed to the reality, scarcely believing she 
 had dreamt : closing her eyes once more, 
 she was transported to the convent. She 
 beheld it awftd in solitude and silence, 
 and contrasted the narrow pointed win- 
 dows, the gloomy light they admitted,
 
 83 
 
 and the solemn sentiments they inspired, 
 with the brilliant splendour, the ravishing 
 sounds, and the ^ay assemblage which 
 the Marchesa's apartments had displayed, 
 and was turning back with hasty steps, 
 when the Abbess, the Prior, and Magda- 
 lena approached her : she flew to meet 
 them, was clasped in their arms, and 
 awoke herself by exclaiming, — '' Oh ! 
 what are all the pleasures I have partook 
 of to a moment like this I" 
 
 e6
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ™— Happy thou art notj 
 For what thou ha'st not, still thou 
 Striv'st to get: and what thou ha'st, forgetest ! 
 
 The following niorning was dedi- 
 cated to paying visits of ceremony, the 
 evening to the theatre; and every suc- 
 ceeding day presented a regular routine 
 of incessant amusements. The Marchese
 
 85 
 
 but seldom attended the private assem- 
 bly, the opera, or the cassino. The 
 manner in which he passed his time was 
 involved in mystery, and his behaviour 
 seemed the result of caprice; for he was 
 sometimes conversable, even animated; 
 bur, more generally cold, distant, and su- 
 percilious. Leonardo, ever attentive, as- 
 siduous, and insinuating, seemed to ! ve 
 only in the society of Olivia and Rosalie; 
 and when they could devote an hour to 
 music, he seemed exalted into a state of 
 perfect felicity. 
 
 " I think'' said Rosalie to him, one 
 morning that they had met for this pur- 
 pose, and smiling as she spoke, " it is in 
 this place only, that I seem to retain the 
 properties of rationality ; and I dread that 
 I am sinking into absolute insipidity. I 
 see every thing which can charm my 
 senses, but nothing which can stimulate 
 my mind to activity. Is it owing to
 
 ^6 
 
 the c]im?»tf*, or the [^■Mt% of life, that 
 I find so little of ch v tcter slmoiig the 
 Florentines?''^ 
 
 *' Undoubtedly the latter/^ replied 
 he, " sin(:e nothing enervates the mind 
 so much as a constant round of frivolous 
 pursuits.'^ 
 
 '* Perhaps I ought to con^me my 
 observations to my own sex," continued 
 Rosalie, " since of yours I am not en- 
 abled to judge; but in all the circles of 
 the Marchesa^s extensive acquaintance, I 
 search in vain for that interest which can 
 alone attach my hea«t, or influence my 
 understanding. ^ receive smiles which 
 are undistingu'r Mg, professions of kind- 
 ness which i perceive have no meaning, 
 and civilities which are the details of po- 
 lite lu^s, and not the result of regard* 
 The energy which expands the heart into 
 friendship, and calls the best emotions of
 
 87 
 
 the mind into action, I ran no where dis- 
 cover but in my sweet Oh via; and did 
 she not so intirely occupy my affections, 
 I fear I should either become restless and 
 unhappy, or possess that inanity my- 
 self, which 1 deplore in others/^ 
 
 The countenance of Leonardo was 
 suffused with the bright glow of animat- 
 ed pleasure, but ere he could speak, 
 Olivia exclaimed archly, " thank you my 
 dear Rosalie, but to repay your affection 
 with generosity, I must renounce the 
 possession of your intire regard, or what 
 will become of Signor Massini, Count 
 Marion i, and many others who are your 
 devoted admirers? Ah, Rosalie ! you have 
 awakened sensibility in one sex, if you 
 have not met with it in the other 1" 
 
 " You know," replied Rosalie, 
 blushing deeply, " that Count Marioni 
 is the victim of an unfortunate passion,
 
 88 
 
 and a ronsami ng melancholy ; and as for 
 Si-tiior Massuii, \oti a!so know^^— — 
 she he<it'iteJ on ohsi rving Leonardo's 
 eves fixed upon litr witii tne mosi anxi- 
 ous attention. 
 
 ** Yes, T do know tiie whole arrange- 
 ment," adjlt-d Oii\ ia. " [le is so •.'c'^ply 
 enaraourtd of my lov iy friend, tiiat he 
 has written to his fatiier, the Marehese 
 di Massini, to say that he cannot live 
 without her, who has given him 1 'ters 
 to my father which he means to pi -ent 
 this day; alter which, he will lay iiim- 
 self and his proposals at her feet/' 
 
 Rosalie was silent, both from sur- 
 prisi" and embarrassment. She was soon 
 roused, however, to self-possession, by 
 hearing Leonardo exclaim that he had 
 forgot an enir-is^ement, and perc^ iving 
 that he had instantly quitted the room*
 
 89 
 
 ** Is it possible all this has been told 
 to you]'* asked Rosalie. 
 
 ** It has, indeed, and through a 
 channel I cannot doubt, since it came 
 from some relations of the Signor, who all 
 anticipate his success, and his conse- 
 quent happiness. It is true, I was en- 
 joyned not to mention the circum- 
 stance, hut I could not resist the temp- 
 tation of telling you and Leonardo of it, 
 or beins^ the first to offer you my con- 
 gratulations.'* 
 
 Rosalie was about to reply, but the 
 entrance of a servant, with a message 
 from the Marchesa desiring their attend- 
 ance in the saloon, interrupted her; and 
 she detained them in conversation rela- 
 tive to the Duchess of Orsini's concert, 
 which they were to attend that evening, 
 until dinner was announced. The guests 
 vvere but few, and the Marchese wore an
 
 90 
 
 air of proud reserve, which threw a sort 
 of gloom over the whole party ; tor it is a 
 lamentable truth, that an ill-humoured 
 person, like the poison of the Upes-Tree, 
 can destroy the happiness of all who 
 come within their atmosphere. lie often 
 fixed hia eyes on Rosalie, in seeming ab- 
 straction of thought, who, for the first 
 time, shrunk from his observation. Leo- 
 nardo was unusually silent, and wore an 
 air of dejection. " Ah 1" though Rosalie, 
 " he certainly imagines that 1 have accept- 
 ed of Signor Massini, and is offended at 
 the treason 1 have committed against our 
 friendship, by keeping it from his know- 
 led:' e." The Marchesa liavinj^ addressed 
 her son several times, without being at- 
 tended to, at length enquired if he was 
 well, saying that she thought he had not 
 looked so tor several days. With an air 
 of embarrassment he replied, that he did 
 not feel hi;nself quite well. '-' Go not to 
 the Duchess's concert/' said Olivia, af-
 
 91 
 
 fectionately. Rosalie's eyes would have 
 seconded the request, but he did not 
 look at her. *' Oh, yes !" replied he 
 carelessly, " for a short time, I must at- 
 tend. Every one now attempted at some- 
 thing like conversation, except the Mar- 
 chese, who sat still wrapped up in his 
 own impenetrable thoughts. 
 
 They arrived so late at the Duchess's 
 Pallazz ), that most of the company were 
 assembled. Signor Barrazzi was to have 
 taken tiie violoncello, but he pleaded in- 
 disposition, and some one else took his 
 station. The music and the performance 
 were admirable, Rosahe's song, Rosalie's 
 sonata, were listened to with rapture. 
 Every body crowded round her after the 
 performimce ended, and never before had 
 she received such high, such universal 
 homage. The crowd moved as she moved, 
 and, elated as her young heart felt at such 
 distinguished admiration, her eye invo-
 
 luntarily sought for Leonardo, that kind 
 assiduous friend who shared so sincerely 
 in all her joys. She beheld him support- 
 ing hims'.if against a marble pillar, his 
 arms folded, his countenance pale. She 
 pressed forward to speak to him, when 
 SignorMassini approached her. Althoutih 
 detained reluctantly, the compliments he 
 paid her demanded a reply, and she ^-ave 
 it with even more than her usual s^race and 
 sweetness, in hopes of being the sooner 
 released ; for at that moment Leonardo's 
 apparent illness made her inattentive to 
 every thing ehe. As she walked forward 
 whilst she sj)okp, she turned to the spot 
 where she had seen him, but he was 
 gone, and her enquiring eyes, which were 
 thrown anxiously round the apartment, 
 convinced h^r that he had quitted it. 
 The heat of the room was excessive : at 
 this moment a sickly lanjjuor overcame 
 her; she leaned on the arm of the Signer 
 for a moment, and then fainted. The
 
 93 
 
 whole compan}^ were in motion, and all 
 crowded round the unconscious Rosalie, 
 instead of allowing her air for the reco- 
 very of suspended animation. Signor 
 Massini, almost frantic at the state in 
 which he saw her, bore her in his arms 
 to an adjoining saloon, where she soon 
 revived. Her first words were, " Where 
 is he ]" and she instantly beheld Signor 
 Massini bending over her, one of her 
 hands held fast between his, and his 
 countenance indicating the joy he felt 
 at her recovery. She withdrew her 
 hand hastily, and besought Olivia, who 
 stood near shedding tears, to order the 
 carriage, that she might retire. She flew 
 to find the Marchesa, and the coach being 
 in waiting, Signor Messmi conducted 
 them to it. 
 
 As soon as they withdrew to their 
 own apartment, Rosalie made an effort to 
 relate the situation in which she had seen
 
 94 
 
 Leonardo, and to interest Olivia to make 
 some enquiries after him ; but a new and 
 indefinable senpatjon arrested her words, 
 and she felt abashed to betray, even to 
 Ghvia, the si3trr of her affection, the 
 strong interest she had taken in his ill- 
 ness. Could she avow the terror it had 
 occasioned] Impossible! She next re- 
 curred to the attentions which her ^'eak^ 
 ness had drawn upon her, from Sie^nor 
 Massini. There was something in his 
 caros about her, which, if she could not 
 call them presuming, were, at least, two 
 marked for her not to feel shocked at the 
 observations they must have drawn upon 
 her. After some hesitation, she said^ 
 *' My dear Olivia, Signor ISIassini w^as so 
 ofiicious, I wish I had not been near him 
 when the heat of the room overcame 
 
 " Why so, my Rosalie ! Surely the 
 acknowledged clamiant of your hand and
 
 95 
 
 heart asserted his right to support you 
 with propriety 1" 
 
 " The acknowledged claimant I" re- 
 peated Rosalie. 
 
 " So it was reported through the 
 room ; and were you not visibly indis- 
 posed, I should scold you unmercifully 
 for being so reserved with your friend.'^ 
 
 '* Signer Massini has never been a 
 declared lover of mine, Olivia ; and, until 
 this morning, when you said something 
 about it, 1 never beard his partiality 
 hinted at.^'' 
 
 " I know not then from what it has a- 
 risen,but the whole company to-night hail- 
 ed you as the affianced wife of the Signor. 
 Did you not hear their whispers, and re- 
 mark the court they paid you 1 1 received 
 incessant congratulations on the splendid
 
 9$ 
 
 establishment of my friend, and the 
 chance there was of her happiness, with 
 so amiable a man, as he is universally 
 believed to be/* 
 
 " No, indeed, I did not,'^ replied 
 Rosalie, " for my thoughts were taken 
 up — that is, I was thinking — but do you 
 believe, Olivia, that Signor Massini has 
 himself spread this report? If so he de- 
 serves the rejection he will certainly re- 
 
 ceive/' 
 
 " Rejection ! Surely you do not mean 
 to refuse the Signor. The women who 
 followed and pretended to caress you, 
 I am sure envied, and, I dare say, hated 
 you for the preference he has shewn. 
 Indeed his rank, and excellent character, 
 render him worthy your acceptance. 
 
 " I acknowledge his good qualities, 
 but I have now an absolute dislike to
 
 97 
 
 him; for the situation in which he placed 
 nie this evening, convinces me that he is 
 both presuming and artful; I shall, there- 
 fore, act with decision, and put an end to 
 his hopes, the first moment I have an 
 opportunity/^ 
 
 Rosalie gave herself up to reflection 
 instead of sleep. She had ascribed the 
 alteration in Leonardo's behaviour to 
 anger ; now, she was convinced, it arose 
 from real illness, and this was more afflict- 
 ing than his fancied resentment. How 
 she should discountenance the preten- 
 sions of Signor Massini, next employed 
 her thoughts; and the little share of va- 
 nity she had felt, from the adulation 
 shewn her at the concert, was, she own- 
 ed to herself, properly punished; since it 
 became evident that she had owed them 
 to her supposed elevation to rank and 
 fortune, rather than any merit of her 
 
 VOL. I, F
 
 98 
 
 own. If left to herself, nothing would be 
 more easy than to put an end to the assi- 
 duities of SIgnor Massini, but she dread- 
 ed the interference of the Marchese, and 
 felt a painful presentment that he would 
 become the director of her fate^ 
 
 Before they descended to the break- 
 fast room, Olivia went to the apartments 
 of her brother. She returned with joy in 
 her countenance, and told Rosalie he had 
 assured her he was not seriously ill, his 
 indisposition having arisen solely from 
 agitation of spirits, on hearing that he 
 was going to lose a friend he valued 
 highly; " and," added she, " I found 
 him equipped for a journey, which on 
 this distressing business he is compelled 
 to undertake; we shall, therefore, be de- 
 prived of his society for some days." 
 
 The Marchesa was assiduously at-
 
 99 
 
 tentive to Rosalie during breakfast, for 
 her lord had communicated the inten- 
 tions of Signor Massini; and as she fore- 
 saw, from her marriage into a noble fa- 
 mily, the prospect of strengthening her 
 own interest, an object she never lost sight 
 of, she anticipated it with pleasure. An- 
 other idea, equally selfish, had occurred to 
 her upon this occasion : as it was impos- 
 sible for her to be insensible of the supe- 
 riority of Rosalie's charms, such a dis- 
 posal of her would, avert the danger, she 
 had sometimes dreaded, of her becoming 
 the rival of Olivia. The family whose 
 alliance she so anxiously sought, were 
 daily expected from Rome; and, at all 
 events, she thought it fortunate, that 
 Rosalie should form an engagement be- 
 fore their arrival: and this double policy 
 diffused an affectionate degree of conde- 
 scension over her manner, which Rosalie 
 had never experienced from her before. 
 F 2
 
 100 
 
 After breakfast the Marcbese, with a 
 degree of emotion, ^vhich he endeavour- 
 ed to conceal under affected solemnity, 
 desired a conference with Rosalie in the 
 librar}^ where he himself conducted her. 
 Having seated her, he said — " I lose no 
 time in acquainting you, Signora, that I 
 have received letters from the Marcbese 
 di Massini, informing me that his son has 
 made him acquainted with the violent 
 passion he has conceived for you; and 
 having a sufficiency of wealth, and no 
 object so dear to him in this world, as the 
 happiness of his son; and, moreover, feel- 
 ing convinced, from your being under the 
 protection of the JNIarcbesa, that your 
 connexions must be respectable, and 
 your merit uncjuestionably great, he has, 
 most willingly, accorded his assent. The 
 Signor, also, has avowed to me his inten- 
 tion of offering you his hand, and intreat-
 
 101 
 
 erl my permissiou to wait upon you for 
 that purpose/^ 
 
 If Rosalie had not been before ap- 
 prised of, and prepared for, this subject, 
 this long and pompous harangue would 
 have given her full time to recollect her- 
 self. She therefore replied — " I thank 
 you, my lord, for the trouble you have 
 had on my account, and the interest you 
 are so kind as to take in my happiness: 
 and, if I shall not appear too presumptu- 
 ous, I will trespass so much farther on 
 your goodness, as to beg you to deliver 
 my answer to Signor jMassini ; and, if you 
 think it necessary, to the Marchese.^^ 
 
 " Certainly, Signora, if you wish me 
 to declare your acceptance of the ho- 
 
 ** Acceptance, my lord ! I should not 
 F 3
 
 102 
 
 adopt so hasty a method of avowing my 
 acceptance. The favour I have to entreat 
 of your lordship, is to decline the honour 
 which such a proposal confers upon me." 
 
 The Marchese, with a look of ming- 
 led surprise and incredulity, replied — 
 *' yuur residence under my roof, Signora, 
 authorises me to use the privaleg€ of a 
 friend, and I cannot, therefore, avoid re- 
 presenting to you, that so advantageous 
 an establishment requires mature dehbe- 
 ration before it is rejected." 
 
 " I am grateful, my lord, for the ap- 
 pellation which you do me the honour to 
 bestow upon me, as well as for the advice 
 -which that name sanctions; but no time 
 can be wanted for deliberation, when 
 the resolution is fully, and irrevocably 
 fixed.^^
 
 1Q3 
 
 TheMarchese paused; but at length 
 said — " I must then draw an inference — 
 that of your aflections being elsewhere 
 engaged.'^ 
 
 " Your lordship," replied she smil- 
 ing, " might find another motive — that 
 of a total disinclination to form engage- 
 ments whilst I am yet so young.^* 
 
 " To a person devoted to a monas- 
 tic life, and apparently dependant on the 
 will of another, I should scarcely ascribe 
 so improbable a one," replied the Mar- 
 chese, sarcastically. 
 
 " As I neither am dependant, or des- 
 tined to the life you suppose," replied 
 Rosalie, in a gentle voice, but with an 
 air of dignity, " I hope your lordship will 
 give credit to my veracity, when I declare, 
 that neither interest or ambition will ever 
 F 4
 
 104 
 
 tempt me to unite myself to a man for 
 whom my heart does not feel a decided 
 preference/^ 
 
 " Oh, Rosalie!'^ exclaimed the 
 IMarchese, his voice and features softened 
 into the most insinuating tenderness, *' to 
 gain the possession of that heart, would 
 be to possess a treasure beyond the world's 
 purchase. Cannot the most unbounded 
 homage — the most devoted affection — 
 the most ardent passion that man ever 
 felt, inspire you with love and pity?" — 
 
 He was proceeding, when Rosalie, 
 struck with his manner, and shocked at 
 the too obvious meaning of his words, 
 cried — " stop, my lord; youare become 
 so dangerous an advocate for your friend^ 
 that I shall hear no more;" — and, with a 
 look that was calculated to destroy his 
 guilty hopes, she left the room.
 
 105 
 
 The Marchese with clenched fists^ 
 and hasty strides, traversed the apart- 
 ment. — To have betrayed himself to a 
 girl — to have been reprehended by her in 
 a manner so deeply mortifying to his 
 pride — his rage was unbounded. In fact, 
 her beauty had been so greatly heighten- 
 ed by the animation with which she 
 spoke, that he had been thrown totally 
 off his guard, when he had least intend- 
 ed it. He penetrated into her soul when 
 she spoke last, and saw, not only its in- 
 nate grandeur, but, also, that aversion 
 and disgust had taken possession of it. 
 The turn she had given to the avowal of 
 his love could not deceive him; but it 
 held out the hope that she dared not dis- 
 close it, and suggested the idea, if she 
 did, of defending himself from her-repre- 
 sentations, by declaring that she had 
 perverted his meaning, which was no 
 more than to urge the suit of the Sijnor. 
 r 5
 
 106 
 
 To be in fear of such a girl, was alike in- 
 compatible with his proud spirit and re- 
 vengeful temper. He could crush her 
 with a frown ! — He could fix her for ever 
 in that obscurity from which she so lately 
 had emerged ! Torn by a whirlwind of 
 passion, he retired to his closet, where 
 he remained until his temper was restor- 
 ed to some degree of calmness, and he 
 had taught his features to assume their 
 accustomed expression. 
 
 Rosalie had, in the mean time, revolv- 
 ed, with much painful retrospection, the 
 scene which had passed between them. 
 The character of the Marchese appeared 
 more inexplicable than ever: insults had 
 preceded his expressions of admiration, 
 and he had arrogated to himself the right 
 of dictating, rather than the privilege of 
 advising. She strove, but in vain, to re- 
 press a fearful presentment that he had
 
 lor 
 
 an influence over her fate. His last 
 speech, which had given such alarm to 
 her deikacy, was, however, so totally in- 
 consistent with his intercession for Signor 
 Massini, that she began to think the con- 
 struction which she had put upon it, al- 
 though at the moment she had meant it 
 for an ironical reproof, was the real end 
 he had in view. She wished to encour- 
 age a belief in the probability of its being 
 so, since the conduct she ought to pur- 
 sue with respect to herself, were it other- 
 wise, would involve her in the most cruel 
 embarrassments with Olivia and the Mar- 
 chesa. How could she quit their man- 
 sion without assigning a cause? and it 
 would be too dreadful to the feelings of 
 both, to divulge the misconduct of a hus- 
 band and a father; — equally suspicious 
 would it prove, if she betrayed resent- 
 ment towards the Marchese. In short, 
 view the circumstance which ever way 
 f6
 
 108 
 
 she conld, no plan appeared so safe as to 
 let him take the literal meaning of her 
 words; and this opinion could only be 
 confirmed by behaving to him in her ac- 
 customed manner. It hurt her feelings 
 to practise such a degree of simulation ; 
 but tlie sacrifice was made to his family, 
 whose happiness she could not disturb, 
 and not himself; and she determined to 
 watch his future behaviour with the ut- 
 most .vigilance, and to regulate her own 
 with scrupulous circumspection. Hav- 
 ing formed these resolutions, she went in 
 pursuit of Olivia, who, she well knew, was 
 waiting to hear the result of the confe- 
 rence. 
 
 Olivia applauded her with all the 
 energy of unsophisticated reason, for hav- 
 ing had resolution to persist in her refusal 
 of a man she did not love; or, in other 
 words, for not having sacrificed her hap-
 
 109 
 
 piness to her ambition. But not so the 
 Marchesa : she remonstrated on the im- 
 policy of rejecting so splendid an alliance^ 
 and strengthened her arguments with 
 maxims of worldly prudence, of sulhcient 
 weight, in her estimation, to counterba- 
 lance dislike and aversion. She suctceed- 
 ed, however, only in one point, that of 
 prevailing upon Rosalie to give the Signor 
 a dismissal herself; to which, indeed, 
 when she was informed that propriety 
 and politeness demanded it, she readily 
 assented. 
 
 She ahnost trembled at the idea of 
 meeting the Marchese at dinner; but his 
 manners were precisely the same as usual, 
 and he once jestingly told the Marchesa, 
 that he had been pleading for an unfor- 
 ttinate lover, with all his rhetoric, to an 
 inexorable beauty.
 
 no 
 
 Signer M^ssini atten^^ed the convcr* 
 zatlone of the Jjarchese in the evening; 
 but he entered th.^ room late, having first 
 had a conference uith the iVlarcheae. 
 He approached Eos '^ with so dis<N)n- 
 certed an air, that sh^: was pers^uaded he 
 had already heard herd* crmination. He, 
 however, sohciled her pes mission to visit 
 her next morning, and obtained it more 
 easily than he had dared to hope. 
 
 " Where is Bar razz i ?'* «aid CourU 
 Marioni to Rosahe, .'' Sure 1 am that he 
 must be performing penance, when he ia 
 absent from this society/^ 
 
 Rosalie blushed ; felt conscious that 
 she did so, and became doubly embar- 
 rassed. " I am afraid he is very ill ; that 
 is, his sister is afraid of it,^* stammered 
 Rosalie,
 
 Ill 
 
 *' Why then is be absent from borne!'* 
 replied the Count, without appearing to 
 notice her confusion. 
 
 " He will not own that he is so,'* 
 replied Rosalie, " and is gone into the 
 country for a few days, probably to escape 
 the torment of being told perpetually that 
 he looked ill/' 
 
 *' His only physician is his father," 
 said the Count, significantly. "• His fiat 
 can alone restore peace to his mind, where 
 I believe his chief malady lies/^ 
 
 The words of the Count sunk deep 
 in the heart of Rosalie. There was some 
 mystery in his illness: probably some 
 unhappy misunderstanding existed be- 
 tween him and his Auher, who, from 
 what she had lately discovered, was capa- 
 ble of being tyrannical, if not cruel. She
 
 112 
 
 gave a deep sio^h to the misery of Leo- 
 nardo, and felt a !>lijsh ^lo.von her clieelc 
 at having been so ivejk and vain n> to 
 suppose that resHntmunt, or, indeel. ^^ny 
 other senliiiicnt n^lative to herseh, could 
 have oceasioMed an inequality in his be- 
 haviour towards h r. tie was tno siirely 
 unhappy, and pity superseded every other 
 emotion in her bosom. 
 
 The next morning the name of Sig- 
 nor Mass'iii was announced, and she met 
 him in the saloon. He approached her 
 in visible perturbation, and told her that, 
 as his !i'ippiness or misery depended solely 
 on herself, he could receive his doom from 
 no other lips than her own. 
 
 With the utmost sweetness, she 
 thanked him for the honour his partiality 
 conferred upon her; and added, that his 
 inesiiaiabie good qualities made her la-
 
 113 
 
 merit that her gratitude was all she could 
 bestow upou him in return. 
 
 He besought her not to deprive him 
 entirely of hope, but to suffer him to try, 
 by the assiduities of a most faithful pas- 
 sion, whether he could not inspire her 
 with stronger sentiments in his favour. 
 
 " Believe me,^^ said she, " that in a 
 decision of so much importance, I have 
 consulted and know my own heart. Be 
 assured, that if time could make it under- 
 go a change, neither coquetry, or the love 
 of conquest, could induce me to repay 
 your generous attachment with dissimu- 
 lation. Let my candour entitle me to 
 your consideration, and do not persevere 
 in a suit, which, by exposing me to the 
 persecution of the INIarcheso, will proba- 
 bly compel me to quit his family/*
 
 114 
 
 After several ineffectual endeavours 
 to shake her determination, the Signer 
 despondingly took his leave. 
 
 " I protest/' said Olivia, after Rosalie 
 had given her an account of this visit, 
 *' that after all, I believe you have a secret 
 penchant for Count Marioni ; and 1 am 
 ready to confess that he is the only Sig- 
 nor here tliat I could be tempted to fall 
 in love with. His melancholy is so affec- 
 ing ; it seems to render him tender and 
 complacent : and, I declare, when he is 
 talking to you, Rosalie, his gloom nearly 
 disappears, and he looks almost happy.'* 
 
 ^' The manners of Count Marioni are 
 iincommonly interesting ; and he seems 
 to feel for me that sort of attachment 
 which I may term fraternal. 1 wish I 
 knew the oircumstances which have made
 
 115 
 
 hiiu so uulia|)py; and, at times, 1 think 
 lie is about to disclose them to me. 
 There is no doubt but that he has been 
 the victim of an unfortunate passion, and 
 that years have not been able to efface it 
 from his heart. But," continued she, " I 
 have not yet told you, my Olivia, that 
 the Count is apprehensive your brother is 
 also sufferinof from some maladv of the 
 mind. He hinted to me, although rather 
 ambiguously, that the Marchese sees the 
 cause of it. How lamentabk if it should 
 be so !" 
 
 *' 1 cannot agree with the Count/' 
 replied Olivia, " and he must have been 
 influenced by conjecture only ; for had 
 he been the confidant of Leonardo, he 
 would not have spoken at all. I am sure 
 that neither my father, or my mother, 
 harbour any displeasure against him, and 
 that they believe he quitted us to attend
 
 116 
 
 the summons of a frioncl. who is involved 
 in some embarrassmtnt. If he really is 
 unhappy, I know of no other cause than 
 his being affianced to the Lady Madalene; 
 whom, as he has never yet seen, he may 
 not peihaps like. Yet, as men cannot 
 be compelled to marry against their incli- 
 nations, as is too frequently the case with 
 our sex, there can be no reason why he 
 should become miserable prematurely/^ 
 
 " I am glad to find that you have no 
 other fears,^^ replied Rosalie. *' But, 
 surely, by this time, the Marchesa must 
 be expecting our attendance.^* 
 
 At the cassino a small party was 
 formed to view the celebrated Palazzo of 
 Medicison the following morning. Olivia 
 and Rosalie were delighted with this ar- 
 rangement, havinof passionately wished to 
 visit that magnificent depository of the
 
 117 
 
 works of the greatt'st artists that have 
 lived, from the most remote periods. 
 Count Marioni offered to be the Cicerone. 
 He had been accompanied tl^at evening 
 by a young English nobleman, whom he 
 introduced into the family of the Maichese 
 in very flattering terms. It was scarcely 
 possible to view Lord Villers without in- 
 terest ; yet the attractions of his person 
 bore no proportion to the more inestim- 
 able ones of his mind ; and both the Mar- 
 chese and the Marchesa were so much 
 pleased with him, that they gave him a 
 general invitation to their palazzo. 
 
 At an early hour the following morn- 
 ing the party assembled; and, under the 
 guidance of Count ISIarioni, proceeded 
 to the Palazzo de Medici. To Rosalie, 
 whose ardent mind was ever intent on 
 gaining information, and eagerly solicit- 
 ous to acquire knowledge, every object
 
 118 
 
 was interesting; not because it was new, 
 but because it recorded the events of past 
 ages, and presented an image of some 
 illustrious character which adorned them. 
 As she approached the spot devoted to 
 the preservation of the chef (Peiares of 
 art and science, she found her bosom 
 elevated with that enthusiasm, which, 
 together with the wish of perpetuating 
 remembrance, excites the endeavour to 
 attain excellence. 
 
 They entered from the piazza of the 
 old palazzo, into a court of such conside- 
 rable extent, that, from the uniformity of 
 the building, and the piazzas ranging on 
 each side, she imamned herself in a 2:rand 
 and beautiful street. The Count made 
 her observe that these wings were termi- 
 nated at the other extremity, by a lofty 
 and magnifi'^ent arch, which united them ; 
 and that this arch opened a view to the
 
 119 
 
 Arno, whose delightful banks, diversified 
 with statrly villas and clumps of trees, 
 which swept down to the water's edge, 
 closed the striking perspective. He point- 
 ed out to her the fronts of each of these 
 wings, decorated with rich Doric columns, 
 supporting the arches over the porticos, 
 under which people were permitted to 
 walk. Over these, a story, ornamented 
 with balustrades and pediments, in which 
 the Grand Duke's artists are perpetually 
 .employed : and, above all, the famous 
 gallery, decorated in the same rich style 
 of architecture, and having between each 
 intercolumniation large windows. He 
 next conducted her to that end of the 
 palazzo w hich looks on the Amo, where 
 the Architecture changes, and presents 
 three great arcades, in the centre of which 
 is placed the equestrian statue of Cosmo 
 the First. *' This building," said he, 
 as they stopped to survey the whole of it.
 
 120 
 
 *' will long remain a monument of what 
 may be accomplished by rare talents and 
 indefatigable perseverence ; but the fame 
 of its illustrious founders rests on a basis 
 less perishable than this ; for as long as 
 literature and the love of science is che- 
 rished, SD long will their names descend 
 to posterity. Cosmo de Medici lived 
 about the middle of the fifteenth century, 
 and all hough only a private citizen of 
 Florence, and engaged in traffic, he not 
 only raised himself to the highest pinna, 
 cle of honour in the state, but also 
 became little less than adored, for his re- 
 vival of the arts, and his patronage of 
 learned men. He expended immense 
 treasures upon the various institutions he 
 formed, and the magnificent edifices he 
 erected. Indeed, his wraith was so pro- 
 digious, that it rendered jiim almost the 
 arbiter of the neighbouring states, either 
 bv withholding from them resourses for
 
 121 
 
 the prosecution of war, or aiding them in 
 their necessities: nor was this influence 
 confined to Italy. During the contest 
 between the houses of York and Lancas- 
 ter in England; he supplied Edward IV. 
 with a sum which enabled that monarch 
 to support his pretentions to the throne; 
 and by this assistance, contributed chiefly 
 to seat him firmly upon it. A life thus 
 devoted to the service of mankind, 
 could nof. but be glorious! He was re- 
 warded, whilst living, by the homage of 
 his fellow citizens, and his death was 
 honoured by a decree which gave him the 
 title of Pater Patrice, His grandson,. 
 Lorenzo de Medici, to all the splendid 
 talents which his great predecessor pos- 
 sessed, added the love of poetry, in which 
 be eminently excelled. He supported 
 the institutions which were begun by 
 Cosmo, and built several beautiful public 
 structures, an«^ afterwards embellished 
 them with whatever was most rare ia 
 
 TOL. I. G
 
 122 
 
 the production of nature, or rendered 
 precious by antiquit\', or the arts. By 
 his taste, his learning, and his munifi- 
 cence, he attached to himself, and drew 
 around him the greatest men that the 
 age produced; and by the force of his 
 own sublime genius, he gave light and 
 vigour (o the pursuits of science, and 
 brought into action the skill of the artist. 
 All this he had accomplished by the time 
 he had attained the meridian of life — a 
 period, at which most men only begin to 
 execute what they have designed. It is 
 difficult to say what further glories he 
 might not have atchieved, had he not 
 <3ied prematurely, at the age of forty-four 
 universally beloved, venerated, and la- 
 mented. Posterity has bestowed upon 
 him the title of Lorenzo the Magni/ictni ; 
 and he certainly laid the foundation for 
 the Ducal honours which have been in- 
 herited by his successors.^^ 
 
 The company now ascended the
 
 123 
 
 stairs and entered the vestibule, whick 
 contains many fine antiques, and in- 
 scriptions. '^ Let me here remark," said 
 Count Marioni, " that my idea, this 
 morning, is merely to lead you through 
 these spacious apartments. You must 
 devote days, instead of hours, to the exa- 
 mination of them; and, I foresee, my 
 lord," addressing himself to Lord Villers, 
 " that you will be a frequent visitor." 
 
 He was now about to enter the gal- 
 lery when Olivia exclaimed, " pray do 
 not let us pass this tablet, on which so 
 many names are inserted I What may it 
 mean?" 
 
 " It is a curious record," replied he, 
 "• and contains the names of about fiftv 
 horses who obtained prizes in the Hy- 
 podrame, together wit*; the country thej- 
 came from, and the number ot prizes they 
 had won: and, by the w^ay, this reminds 
 g2
 
 124 
 
 me, Lord Villers, of the horse races in 
 England, where the geneology of the 
 winning horse is traced from generation, 
 to generation.'^ 
 
 Quitting the vestibule, they entered 
 the gallery, and were struck with the 
 appearance of the two immense wings 
 which presented themselves. " They 
 are nearly four hundred feet long," said 
 the Count, " and vou will find them 
 joined on the side which looks towards 
 the Arno, by another gallery above one 
 third part the dimensions of these. The 
 vaulted ceilings, form a series of history; 
 for one side represents the progress of the 
 arts and sciences and the portraits of the 
 learned men who have flourished under 
 the auspices of the family of the Medici: 
 and on the other, are painted the resem- 
 blances of every individual of that house.'^ 
 
 '' Oh !'^ exclaimed Rosalie, " you
 
 125 
 
 said that days were requisite to examine 
 all the vvoiiders of this place. Surely an 
 asre would be insuflicieiU to investisfate as 
 they deserve, the innumerable statutes, 
 bustos, and paintings, on which my eye 
 at this instant reposes.^^ 
 
 " True,'^ rephed the Marchese; 
 " and you must, therefore, remember 
 that we are come to view cuisorily these 
 objects, which may be contemplated at 
 leisure.^^ 
 
 " Let us not pass this head,^' said 
 Rosalie, beseechingly, to Count Marioni; 
 " the style of it is so graceful, and the 
 countenance so sweetly bewitching, that 
 1 am interested to learn something con- 
 cerning it/' 
 
 " It is the busto of one of the most 
 fascinating of your sex; and, if some au- 
 thors may be credited, the most injured. 
 g3
 
 n6 
 
 It is the Lesbian poetess Snppho, whom 
 you behold, who is still unequalled in the 
 beauty of her verse. Her taste, even in 
 the mechanism of her style, is so tran- 
 scendent, so perfect, so soft, that her 
 verses flow witli more grace and harmony 
 than any poet that has ever existed. 
 Certain it is, that, she strove to inspire 
 the Lesbian women with a taste for lite- 
 rature, and that public honoui*s were de- 
 creed her. At length the hatred of some 
 females of distinction, who v/ere humbled 
 by her superiority, broke out against her. 
 The vivacity of her disposition led her to 
 reply with some degree of irony, and more 
 truth, which exasperated her enemies so 
 highly, that she was obliged to tly from 
 their persecutions. She possessed the 
 most extreme sensibility, and loved 
 Phaon to excess, because it was im- 
 possible for her to love otherwise. She was 
 used to say — ' I am actuated by a love of 
 ' pleasure consistent with virtue.^ Find-
 
 127 
 
 f 
 
 in:r that she was forsaken bv Phcion, and 
 that she could neither reclaim him, or 
 live happy without him, she resolved to 
 take the Leucastan leap, and perish in 
 the waves. It has justly been remarked 
 of her — ' that death has not obliterated, 
 as it ought, the reflections attempted to 
 have been affixed to her character, since 
 envif, which fastens on illustrious names, 
 even v^^hen she expires, bequeaths her 
 aspersions to that calumny which never 
 dies.'—'' 
 
 The famous busto of Alexander; the 
 Etruscan Chimera; the admirable busto 
 of Seneca ; and a Pomona, who seems in 
 iBOtion, and her garments to be agitat- 
 ed by the wind ; with many others, arrest- 
 ed their attention, and excited the high- 
 est admiration. From the Laocoon they 
 turned away with horror. Ahnost could 
 Rosalie have persuaded herself that she 
 heard the hissing noise of the snakes, as 
 G 4
 
 128 
 
 tht3y twined themselves round the limbs 
 of the old man, and the two youths >vho 
 are expiring in tortures, which the pen of 
 Virgil but feebly describes. 
 
 They next proceeded to the tribune, 
 a magnificent apartment, in which the 
 six fiamous Greek statues are placed ; and 
 which abounds in such rich ornaments, 
 gems, and Mosaic work, that scarcely any 
 thing can be compared with it. It is a 
 large octagon room, the ceiling in form of 
 a dome, from which rises a cupola, glazed 
 with Oriental crystal. The ceiling is en- 
 crusted with mother of pearl; the walls 
 hung with crimson velvet; and the floor 
 inlaid most beautifully with various sorts 
 of marble. 
 
 " The Venus of Medicis, which is 
 acknowledged to be the finest })iece of 
 sculpture in the world,^' said Count 
 Marioni, " was found in the Villa of
 
 129 
 
 Adriana, amongst thirty Dtbrer Greek 
 statues of admirable workmanship. It 
 is rather wonderful that the name of the 
 sculptor, who formed this exquisite and 
 inimitable model of female beauty, should 
 not have been handed down to posterity. 
 Some suppose her to be that Venus of 
 Praxitelas, which the inhabitants of 
 Gridos refused to Nicomedas king of 
 Bythinia, although he offered to purchase- 
 her by the payment of their debts: others 
 assert, that she was the workmanship of 
 Phidies, and the same Venus that was 
 placed under the portico of Octavia at 
 Rome. And there are some who believe 
 her to have been sculptured by Alca- 
 menes, and placed near Athens; but, 
 however, antiquarians may disagree in 
 this respect, they are unanunous in pro- 
 nouncing the statue to be the perfection 
 of art. It is hardly possible to conceive- 
 that the chisel could have given to black 
 marble, the apparent flexibility and sofu 
 
 G 5
 
 130 
 
 ness of Flesh ! Beautiful as the counte- 
 nance is, the gracefulness which accom- 
 panies it is still more striking. There is 
 so much of life in the figure, that you 
 almost yield to the illusion of believing 
 you hear her breathe, and wait in expec- 
 tation of hearing accents which accord 
 wiih the sweetness of her features. She 
 is composed of forty-two pieces, almost 
 imperceptibly joined together: the hands 
 and arms are allowed to be modern. Al- 
 though the symetry of the form is exqui- 
 site, yet it is certain, that, the measure 
 taken of her limbs is proportioned, in se- 
 veral instances, to living objects of much 
 greater height. I have here the exact 
 measures taken by a countrywoman* of 
 your's, Lord Villers. ' From the forehead 
 to the heel, she is four feet nine inches 
 and three quarters; but, her hgure in- 
 
 * Lady MiUar.
 
 151 
 
 dines, which we must admit will shorten 
 her heio^ht. The lensfth of her foot is 
 eight inches and a half and half a quar- 
 ter; just above her ancle bone, is five 
 inches; round her leg, immediately be- 
 neath her knee, eleven inches and a half;, 
 round her wrist, measuring over the top 
 of the round bone, six inches ; the thick- 
 est part of her arm, below her elbow, ten 
 inches; round her waist, two feet ten in- 
 ches and a half; round her shoulders, 
 passing the string under her arms across 
 her bosom, three feet; round her throat, 
 twelve inches and a half. Her face from 
 the chin bone, (not including her double 
 chin) to the roots of her hair, five inches 
 and a half; and her mouth, (for she 
 smiles) one inch and a half/ All this I 
 know to be correct; and we must take 
 into the account, that the most beautiful 
 figures of the statuary or painter, arc al- 
 ways rounded with flesh.'^ 
 g6
 
 132 
 
 " Hore are five more statues still 
 ining/^ exclahned the A 
 *' and the day is far advanced l'^ 
 
 remaining/^ exclaimed the Marchese 
 
 '' I will briefly enumerate them/* 
 replied Count Marioni. " The celestial 
 Venus ]\Ji^t rising from the bath, and Venus 
 Vicirice, who is in possession of the golden 
 apple, bestowed on her as the prize of 
 beauty, by Paris; would no doubt have 
 received the homage of connoisseurs had 
 not the Venus de Medici been placed be- 
 side them. The Fawti, who is about to 
 strike the cymbajs, cannot be passed 
 without admiration. One of his feet at 
 the same time presses another musical in- 
 strument, somewhat in the shape of bel- 
 lows. Altogether it is an extraordinary 
 assemblage of ideas; but the animation 
 and expression of this creature are won- 
 derful, for he seems alive.^' 
 
 ** The wrestlers are the next group.
 
 133 
 
 Their attitudes convey such an extraor- 
 dinary proof of their strength and the 
 phahility of their limbs, and their coun- 
 tenances express so much eneri3:y of 
 mind, that you are brought back at once 
 to that era when this exercise was con- 
 sidered no less an accomplishment, than 
 a science and recreation. From the ac- 
 counts transmitted to us of the Grecian 
 wrestlers, one might be tempted to sup- 
 pose that this strength was acquired by a 
 consumption of provisions which would 
 be terrible in the present day. The fa- 
 mous wrestler, Theogenes of Thesus, is 
 said to have eaten a whole ox in a day ; 
 and the same voracious appetite is given 
 to Miio of Crotona, whose customary 
 quantity of food for a day was eighteen 
 pounds of meat, as many of bread, and 
 fifteen quarts of wine. 
 
 *' The next statue, the Arrotino or 
 slave, who is supposed to be listening to
 
 134 
 
 some horrible plot, expresses dismay in 
 every limb as well as ilature! TI's rug- 
 ged countenance displays the cruei servi- 
 tude he has endured ; ind tiie wliole 
 statue is executed iu a masterly style/' 
 
 " This table, in the middle of the 
 room," said the iVliu'rhoMu " is, in my 
 opinion, the most b^-autiful tiling- it con- 
 tains. How natural is this rich foliage, 
 the flowers and fruits, though composed 
 of agates, cornelians, jaspers, pearls, and 
 other precious stones 1" 
 
 " But here is a picture, in the 
 same sort of T\io>;aic wor;<," replied the 
 Count, " which even surpasses it. It is 
 the representitiot) of various birds ; and 
 the vivid colouring of tiie plumage, and 
 excellence oi the workmanship, vies with 
 the finest painting', and r- li ers the piece 
 of more value than do the gems of which 
 it is composed."
 
 135 
 
 " If I am not deceived " said Rosalie, 
 " here is also a portrait, composed of the 
 same materials. Nothin,^ can be more 
 striking; it infinitely exceeds any paint- 
 ing V 
 
 " It does, indeed :" answered Count 
 Marioni : it is a Sybil, after a picture of 
 Guido. Mosaic work was revived under 
 the patronage of Lorenzo de Medici, and 
 has since then received the name of 
 Florentine work. This antique head,^^ 
 continued he, " is considered a great cu- 
 riosity. It is of one entire gem, called 
 egiade ; a precious stone of a pea-2^reen 
 colour, and rather opaque than transpa- 
 rent. One of the eyes is formed of the 
 cat's eye, as it is called, a species of chel- 
 cedony, which strongly resembles the 
 pupil of an eye, being transparent, and 
 generally inclining to a hazel colour. The 
 ancients inserted gems to supply the eyes
 
 136 
 
 In their bustos and statues, most of which 
 have bef n stolen or lost, which is the 
 reason why you see the sockets of the 
 eyes left hollow/^ 
 
 " Of the infinite number of pictures 
 which adorn this tribune, I shall only 
 point out these two, which connoissures 
 can never sufficiently adujire, and which 
 are considered as t!ie hnest in the co. lec- 
 tion. This is the wife of Titian, done by 
 himself. She is iiiost exquisitely hand- 
 some; and the painter seems to have 
 lavished upon it his richest tints and 
 happiest touches : but I will remove this 
 curtain, and you will perceive by her side 
 the portrait of his mistress : her beauty 
 is still more transcendently lovely ; and 
 the delicacy of the colouring: is as perfect 
 as the most beautiful nature." 
 
 *' My admiration of what I see, is
 
 137 
 
 still exceeded by the amazement I feel at 
 viewing so vast and grand a coliection," 
 exclaimed Lord Villers. 
 
 " V/hich will increase/^ replied the 
 Count, " as [ lead you through an in- 
 finite number of rooms, all of which are 
 filled with similar productions. All the 
 antiquities which ancient Greece, Egypt, 
 and Etruria, could furnish, have been de- 
 posited here. The medals, vases, precious 
 stones, Egyptian and Grecian divinities, 
 bustos and statues, are as inestimable as 
 they are innumerable, and form an assem- 
 blage that could never be imagined, unless 
 it were seen.^^ 
 
 They then proceeded through the 
 remaining gahhhielfes^ in one of which, 
 the room where the armour is deposited, 
 Count Marioni made them observe seve- 
 ral sacks filled with iron shirts. '' Ihey 
 are made of wire," said he, " and appear
 
 138 
 
 to have been knit : ihey are pliable, con- 
 sidering their texture, and have evidently 
 been worn ; but if we had manufacturers 
 who could weave them, I know not now 
 where we should find forms sufficiently 
 athletic to move under them/^ 
 
 At length fatigue, and even wearied 
 attention, made them descend to the 
 Palazzo Pitti, and seat tliemselves in a 
 saloon, until their carriages could arrive. 
 
 As the apartment they reposed in 
 was one into which strangers were seldom 
 admitted, the furniture was in some dis- 
 order, and several pictures without frames 
 were placed against tlie walls. 
 
 " Whose portraits are these two V* 
 enquired the Marchese, addressing Count 
 Marioni. 
 
 " Thev are intended for Francisco de
 
 139 
 
 ISIedici, son to Cosmo the First, Grand 
 Duke of Tuscany, and his Duchess, the 
 celebrated, but unfortunate, Bianca Ca- 
 pello. 1 suppose they are thrown aside, 
 because they recall the remembrance of 
 circumstances which those connected 
 with them by collateral family ties may 
 wish to have buried in oblivion/^ 
 
 " She is beautiful and interesting,'^ 
 said Rosalie, " and you mentioned that 
 she was unfortunate. If it will not be 
 too great a fatigue, after your exertions 
 this morning, will you indulge us with 
 some anecdotes of her life V^ 
 
 " They form a little history," replied 
 he, " and too long a one to enter upon at 
 the present moment; but I have the detail 
 in a manuscript, which I will send you, 
 for your perusal. It exemplifies two im- 
 portant truths ; the one, that a devi- 
 ation from discretion generally leads to
 
 140 
 
 inextricable misfortunes : the other, that, 
 however surrounded by titles, wealth, or 
 power, there awaits on guilt a punish- 
 ment, which crushes those we love in our 
 own ruin. 
 
 The Count, as he ended these words, 
 accidentally fixed his eyes upon the 
 countenance of the Marchese, which he 
 beheld overspread with an ashy paleness. 
 Starting from his seat, he flew to his sup- 
 port, and his movement having directed 
 the attention of the rest of the company, 
 they surrounded him in almost breathless 
 terror. A moment, however, sufficed to 
 restore him ; and the blood suddenly 
 mounting into his cheeks, crimsoned them 
 over, and gave to his eyes an indefinable 
 expression. To the anxious enquiries of 
 his friends, he replied, that he had beea 
 oppressed by the heat; and passing: hastily 
 to his carriage, he threw himself into a
 
 141 
 
 corner, and observed a sullen silence^ 
 although the Marchess, with reiterated 
 questions, expressed her aflection and 
 alarm*
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 He did betray 
 
 To my own reproof 
 
 >5>«e»<5^ 
 
 Collected together again, the 
 same party sat down to a late dinner. 
 The superb gallery they had visited in 
 the moriiiiig, and the productions which 
 they considered most deseiving of admi- 
 ration, afforded them ample room for con-
 
 143 
 
 versation, which was rendered more lively 
 than usually happened at the Marchese^s 
 table, by a circumstance altogether as 
 new; that of his being himself in apparent 
 high spirits and good humour. Rosalie 
 thought his gaiety was rather forced ; but 
 he exerted himself to please, and she 
 gave him credit for making the effort suc- 
 cessfully. It had not escaped her obser- 
 vation, that some latent thought had been 
 painfully roused, by the story of Francisco 
 de Medici and Bianca Capello ; and the 
 slight convulsion which shook his frame, 
 seemed more like the pang pf remorse, 
 than the languor of fainting. It was 
 evident he was now striving to do away 
 the impression which might have been 
 received from his sudden indisposition. 
 If such was the art he possessed, and the 
 finesse he couU practise, what must be 
 his real character ? She shuddered as she 
 mentally asked herself this question, and
 
 144 
 
 hastened to banish the frightful suspicions 
 which lurked in her bosom. 
 
 The Marchesa, who confessed that 
 «he had never seen so much of tlie g-allerv 
 before, enquired which was the most va- 
 luable curiosity it could boast ? 
 
 " That," replied Count Marioni, 
 *^ can, perhaps, only be decided by the 
 taste of the observer; but, critically speak- 
 ing, among natural productions, that will 
 be considered the nrost curious which is 
 the most rare; and, in antiques, that 
 which has been preserved from the wreck 
 of the most disiant ages. Probably, among 
 the former, the Virtuosi would rank the 
 head of Tiberius, formed from a single 
 lurkoise as large as a hen's egg ; and, 
 amon^ the latter, the bronze fiQ:ure which 
 is believed to represent one of the Lamias 
 of Africa.
 
 145 
 
 " Everv k.iii"doai on the earth an- 
 pears to have been ransaked to fiirnisfi 
 the gallery at Florence/^ said Oh'via ; " I 
 suppose it may, therefore, be considered 
 the first collection in the world." 
 
 " The Neapolitans would dispute 
 that title, Signora/' replied Lord Villers, 
 " who consider the collection at Portici, 
 dug chiefly from the ruins of Hercula- 
 neum and Pompeia, infinitely beyond 
 it.'^ 
 
 " Are you of that opinion!" asked 
 the Count. 
 
 " By no means; for it contains little 
 more than the antiquities of ancient 
 Rome. The interest of the spectator is 
 abundantly excited by comparing the 
 houses, the furniture, the ornaments, and 
 the domestic arranginuints, with those of 
 the present day. Thus, we know that 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 UG 
 
 their kitchens were much better calculat- 
 ed for the refinements of luxury and 
 serving up an enormous number of dishes, 
 than ours. Many of their culinary uten- 
 sils are so complicated, that their uses 
 have not yet been discovered ; and the 
 more common ones, are not only better 
 contrived than ours, but all of bronze, 
 and of very fine workmanship. Even the 
 weights used among them were bustos 
 of divinities or heros, most beautifully 
 wrought, and suspended by rings. We 
 read that, among the Greeks, cooks were 
 used to travel, in order to perfect them- 
 selves in the art ; and we might venture 
 to infer, from the Roman kitchens, that 
 theirs were equally scientific. Yet there 
 are a number of objects in that collection 
 worthy of more important enquiries,^' 
 
 '* Do you remember which of them 
 struck you most particularly V^ said Olivia.
 
 147 
 
 " I will own, Signara, I was highly 
 gratified by the sight of a piece of purple 
 stuff, of the rich Tyrean dye, found in 
 Herculaneum. Even its folds v/ere per- 
 ceptible ; and, in appearance, it had sus- 
 tained neither injury or decay : yet when 
 touched with the finger, it w'as found to 
 be reduced to an impalpable powder. The 
 manuscripts, I should suppose, would 
 prove the most valuable acquisition, but 
 they are unfortunately rolled up, and the 
 diiliculty of opening them has almost de- 
 feated the attempt/' 
 
 " If excavatations were made on our 
 own coast,^^ said Count Marioni, " w^e 
 should, no doubt, discover cities which 
 were destroyed antecedent to Hercula- 
 neum and Pompeia. At Modona, and 
 for four miles round it, at the depth of 
 fourteen feet, there are found ruins of an 
 u2
 
 148 
 
 ancient city, about which histor}' is silent, 
 with houses, columns, paved streets, and 
 floors in IMosaic. Under this is found a 
 solid bed of firm earth, and under that a 
 soft oazy, composed of decayed vegetables. 
 At twenty-six feet, you meet with large 
 trees, with the branches and leaves in 
 exact preservation: even walnuts still 
 sticking on the walnut-trees. At twenty- 
 eight feet, a chalk bed is found, in which 
 are large shells, not yet pulverized to 
 chalk. This bed is eleven feet thick, and 
 under it vegetable earth is again found, 
 with branches of trees and leaves, as 
 before; and thus, alternately, chalk and 
 vegetable earth, to the depth of sixty- 
 tbree-feet." 
 
 " These sort of revolutions on the 
 face of the globe have been frequent,^* 
 said Lord Villers ; " and it may perhaps
 
 U9 
 
 h§ f(nm^ t\mt they hmeihm rcgtilar mid 
 ^tmd period*, I'ha anciaotii were not 
 ignoraflt of t\m, for Plato remarks— 
 ' Tim mei} woiiid hmoaw wimt and ex- 
 hati^t all their errors, were it not that 
 natum herself jg attacked with some 
 dreadful disease'— a deluge, an earthquake, 
 or a conflagration, which destroys whole 
 nations, together with the monuments of 
 their learning and vanity. At each revo- 
 lution, the few who have escaped re-unite 
 the thread of generations, and behold a 
 new race, laboriously employed, for a long 
 series of ages, in forming themselves into 
 society, making laws, inventing arts, and 
 bringing their discoveries to perfection, 
 until a new catastrophe swallows them 
 up likewise in the gulp of oblivion ; and 
 thus the torch of science has been alter- 
 nately extinguished and rekindled." 
 
 " When I lately read," said Rosalie^ 
 II 3
 
 160 
 
 tlie ncrouDt of that traveller,* who 
 penetrated into one of the catacombs at 
 Thebes, unopened before, and found a 
 manuscript roll of Papyrus, in the haiul 
 of a mummy. 1 almost shared in the 
 testacy he felt, at behving himself in 
 possession of the oldest book in the world, 
 unquestionablyvvrittenyoM;'//w^A5^/72r/years 
 ago. Yet, what a lesson for human va- 
 nity ! Ihe hieroglyphics, which were 
 perhaps intended to perpetuate the name 
 tAiid virtues of the deceased, are now 
 become unintelligible ; and the bodies 
 themselves, so expensively prepared to 
 resist decay, have been despoiled of their 
 costly wrappings by the lawless plunderer 
 of the desert, to collect the resins which 
 have embalmed them, and which they 
 convey to the neighbouring sea-ports, and 
 sell for exportation.''^ 
 
 * Denon.
 
 131 
 
 '' You should have lived among the 
 philosophers of Greece, Signora," said 
 the Marchcse, gaily. " Euclid would 
 certainly have given you a place on the 
 shelf in his library in which he preserved 
 the works of learned women. But is it 
 not time for the cassinoT' added he, ad- 
 dressing the Marchesa. 
 
 '^ I was just going to propose our 
 giving up the cassino," replied she, " We 
 seem so well amused with each other, 
 that I think we shall lose by the exchange. 
 So, if you please, we will take our coffee 
 under the shade of the clump of acacias 
 on the lawn.'^ 
 
 '' Where, if you choose so," added 
 Count Marioni, " I will read aloud the 
 manuscript which I promised to shew 
 you." 
 
 H 4
 
 132 
 
 *' Of Bianca Capello '/' exclaimed 
 Olivia. " That wili be delightful," 
 
 " I am extremely sorry/' said the 
 Marchese, roused from a momentary fit of 
 absence, *• that 1 am unfortunately and 
 indispensibly engaged for the remainder 
 of the evening ; though I will partake of 
 your coffee, before 1 leave you/' 
 
 The Marcbesa now gave her hand to 
 Lord Yiilers, and led ihe way to the lawn. 
 Persian carpets were spread on the 
 ground, to prevent danger from the damp 
 earth, and the thick foliage of the wide- 
 spreading branches protected tliem from 
 the still fervid rays of the setting sun. 
 What can equal the beauty of an Italian 
 evening ? The clearness of the atmo- 
 sphere, the bri:,ht azure of the vast con- 
 cave of the heavens!, and the freshness of
 
 153 
 
 the air, impregnated with the dehcious^ 
 fragrance of the orange groves, all con- 
 spire to tranquilhze the mind, and dis- 
 poses it to that sort of enthusiasm which 
 leads to inspiration. Each person seemed 
 impressed with sensations like these, as 
 they silently seated themselves and con- 
 templated the scenery around them. As 
 the glorious orb of day sunk in the West, 
 a rich glow of orange, with a splendour 
 unequalled, burst from that part of the 
 horizon, and gave to every object the rich 
 and mellow tint of Claude Lorraine : and,, 
 as the stillness of the evening advanced, 
 the round full notes of the flagellet, and 
 the shrill, but lively tones of the pipe and 
 tabor, were wafted on the breeze, inter- 
 rupted now and then by the distant burst 
 of merriment among the happy peasants- 
 Rosalie's spirits, which had at first been 
 raised to the highest transports, soon sunk 
 under the pressure (jf painful emotions. 
 11.3
 
 154 
 
 Imagination bad almost transported her 
 to the precincts of the convent ; for al- 
 though the frowning mountains which 
 surrounded SL Agnese bore no resem- 
 blance to this paradise of sweets, yet the 
 stillness of the evening, and that sort of so- 
 lemnity which nature assumes when she 
 reposes, awakened in her bosom the most 
 lively recollection of friends so dear, and 
 Dearly brought them present to her view. 
 ** How is it," said she, mentally, " that 
 in the midst of happiness I have a vacuum 
 in my heart! Let me not believe it the 
 presentment of evil ! Ah, it is rather the 
 sad conviction that the affections which 
 twine round our hearts in infancy, which 
 grow with our growth, and strengthen 
 with our strength, when severed, can 
 never be replaced with others equally 
 tender 1 She started at hearing herself 
 sigh ; and, raising her eyes, beheld 
 those of Count Marioni fixed intently
 
 135 
 
 upon her, as he stood beside her, with 
 the manuscript in his band. She now 
 perceived that the seats were ranged in a 
 circle, and suffered herself to be led to 
 one of them. She was instantly aware that 
 the Marchese had taken his departure. — 
 Count Marioni began as follows : — 
 
 ' BiANCA Capello was the daugh- 
 ter of a noble Venetian, and possessed 
 such uncommon beauty, that most of the 
 young Cavaliers in Venice were enslaved 
 by her charms. She was equally the dar- 
 ling of her own family ; and, though 
 many alliances were proposed which 
 would have flattered their pride, her fa- 
 ther forbore to lay her inclinations under 
 any constraint, and she invariably rejected 
 every suiter that was introduced to her. 
 This conduct necessarily subjected her to
 
 156 
 
 tlie reproach of insensibility. AIas1 she 
 was at that moment the victim of a pas- 
 sion, as fervent as it was indiscreet. 
 
 * There hved in the vicinity of her 
 father's palazzo some Florentine Mer- 
 chants, whose business was conducted 
 by Pietro Buonoventuri, a young citizen 
 of Florence, who possessed such an ex- 
 traordinary degree of beauty and graceful- 
 ness, that he excited general attention 
 and admiration. Bianca frequently be- 
 held him pass and repass the street, 
 through the lattice of her balcony. Ap- 
 probation of his noble figure was soon 
 converted into interest ; and interest was 
 soon succeeded by love. She watched 
 whole days for his approach, and did not 
 fiiil to display her lovely person whenever 
 he came in view. It was scarcely possi- 
 ble for the vanity of a young man of his 
 liandsome figure to resist such proofs of
 
 157 
 
 his having made an impression on that 
 obdurate heart, which no one else had 
 been able to move ; and, in his turn, he 
 now strove to disclose to her, by his ges- 
 tures and melancholy looks, that he was 
 the devoted slave of her charms. At 
 length he became so passionately en- 
 amoured, that he bribed the duenna who 
 attended her, and obtained a private 
 meeting. These interviews were fre- 
 quently repeated; and their reciprocal 
 love augmented so much, that the im- 
 passioned lover prevailed upon his mis- 
 tress to consent to a clandestine marriage. 
 As it was too hazardous an attempt to 
 convey the husband into the Palazzo de 
 Capello, by the contrivance of the duenna, 
 Bianca passed in disguise to the mer- 
 chant's house ; and . the apartments of 
 Pietro being upon the ground lloor and 
 not many paces distant, she found an
 
 158 
 
 easy access to him after ]x>th the families 
 had retired to lest. 
 
 * These nocturnal visits had con- 
 tinued for some time without intirrrup- 
 tion, (f r the old duenna always took 
 care to leave one of the doors of entrance 
 to the palazzo unholtet-, so that Bianca 
 could regain her own apartment without 
 making the least noise); but, as there 
 ever awaits upon unworthy artifice a cer- 
 tain, however late, detection, one morn- 
 ins:, on Bianca^s return, she found the 
 door barred against her. Nearly speech- 
 less with terror, she ran back to her hus- 
 band, who durst not accompany her for 
 fear of observation. His consternation, if 
 possible, exceeded her own ; and, as guilt 
 magnifies danger, and annihilates the cou- 
 rage necessary to be op;>oscd to it, they 
 both gave themselves up for lost. In this
 
 159 
 
 predicament nothing remained for them, 
 but immediate flight. Bianca preferred 
 any thing rather than encountering the 
 fury of her father, who would inevitably 
 have sacrificed Buonoventuri to his rage. 
 She besought him not to lose a moment : 
 the morning was by this time advanced 
 pretty far ; and death and destruction 
 were perhaps making still more rapid 
 strides towards them. Pietro yielded to 
 her representations; and, conducting her 
 through the most unfrequented streets of 
 Venice, they were fortunate enough to 
 get on board a gondola in safety. They 
 pursued their journey to Florence with 
 the greatest privacy, and at length arrived 
 at the house of Pietro^s father. The old 
 man, although a citizen, was so low in 
 circumstances, that this additional burden 
 to his family was a serious misfortune. 
 The haste in which the fugitive lovers 
 had quitted Venice, had not permitted
 
 160 
 
 Pietro to brini? any of his effects ; and 
 Bianca possessed only the few ornaments 
 which had emhellisli((J her dress, and 
 ornaaiented her necK and arms the even- 
 ing preceding her fligut. She, however, 
 yielded to her fate ; and, as the circum- 
 stances of the old people were so confined 
 that it was impossible to retain a domestic 
 in the house, she chearfully partook of 
 the household cares with Pietro's mother, 
 and even relieved her from many offices 
 whirh heraCiC and infirmities were but ill 
 calculated to sustain. Perhaps, at the 
 moment she had rashly precipitated her- 
 self into this engagement, she had not 
 attached the idea of poverty to her re- 
 nunciation of splendour ; but she adored 
 her husband, and dreaded being discover- 
 ed by her fiimily ; and these sentiments 
 reconciled her to that degradation of 
 rank she endured, and from which she 
 believed she could never again be elevated.
 
 161 
 
 'Notwithstanding their umpUmm, ihe 
 duenna had proved faithfid to her trust. 
 The fastcnujg of the door was owing to 
 an accident, in which the lovers were no 
 way concerned ; and a deep sleep had 
 oppressed the weary governante, which 
 had prevented her making the disc^nery 
 that Hianca did not return at the accus- 
 tomed hour. When she awoke froni her 
 late slumbers, and perceived that the 
 apartment of the Signora was vacant, she 
 believed her elopement must have been a 
 preconcerted thing ; and, as she saw no 
 safet} for herself but from beiug the fust 
 to make the discovery, she rushed into 
 the apartment- of her lord, and, concealing 
 the share she had taken in carrying on 
 the intrigue, related the circumstance of 
 Bianca's disappearance, together with 
 some conjectures, as slie termed them, 
 respecting tiie companion of her flight. 
 When the fact Was ascertained, the whole
 
 162 
 
 family were outrageous; and, being no 
 less powerful from liieir wealth than rank, 
 the Senate of Venice were induced to 
 pass a decree, by which an immense re- 
 ward was offered to whoever would seize, 
 or even destroy, Pietro Buonoventuri. or 
 Bianca his wife. When this terrible order 
 reached the ears of the proscribed pair, 
 the apprehensions of both were dreadfully 
 great ; and Bianca determined never to 
 venture abroad, and to conceal herself, if 
 possible, from every human eye, except 
 those of her husband's family. 
 
 ' She had lived in this seclusion for a 
 consiberable length of time, and the ex* 
 cess of her terror began in some small 
 measure to subside, when she heard that 
 the Grand Duke Francisco, son to Cosmo 
 the First, was to pas^ in procession through 
 the place of St. Mark. Francisco was 
 unquestionably the first character of the
 
 1G3 
 
 age in which he lived. lie inherited ail 
 the emiiR-'Dt virtues of hii iilustrious an- 
 cestors, and was no less beloved for his 
 equitable government than the brilliancy 
 of his talents. He was universally allow- 
 ed to be extremely hanosome, to possess 
 the highest polish of good breeding, and, 
 in tlie gracefulness of his manners, to be 
 unequalled. Bianca had so often heard 
 these eulogiums repeated, that she could 
 not resist the curiosity she felt to \\q\v so 
 extraordinary a person. To obtain a better 
 sight of him as he passed, she departed 
 from her usual precaution, and lifted up 
 the lattice. This unfortunate moment 
 decided her fate; and, for this act of im- 
 prudence, she was involved in a train of 
 irretrievable errors ! This movement 
 gave the Duke a full view of her ; but if 
 he was surprized at her uncommon beauty^ 
 he was no less so at her dignified air, and 
 the dress she wore, which was of the
 
 1(J4 
 
 costume o{ Venice* Oo \m rHmn to tUe 
 palii;2«o, he foiiiul it Jropo«»ibb to b^nifh 
 th© captivating object he had «e<en from 
 bis tnigmory ; and, th(erefore, he applied 
 to aa attendant, who wag indee(i hh coa» 
 fidejuial friend, to learn the name and 
 iituaiion of the fair incc^oita. This in^ 
 formation wa§ not, however ea^iily ob» 
 taiced ; for the extreme privacy in which 
 the Buonoventuris lived, rendered them 
 inaccessible to their neighbours, and all 
 that he could learn was, that the family 
 consisted only of the old people, a son, 
 and his wife, 
 
 ' This mysterious appearance excited 
 still more strongly the anxious solicitude 
 of the Duke, and he besought his confi- 
 dant to leave no means untried to obtain 
 the information he wished, but to pro- 
 ceed with secrecv and caution.
 
 165 
 
 'After several more ineffectual at- 
 tempts, the Signer who was employed in 
 this embassy, was obliged to intrust his 
 wife with the circumstance, an J call in 
 her assistance. She instantly arranged 
 her plan of operations ; and, by frequent- 
 ing the church where Pietro's mother 
 regularly attended mass, and contriving 
 to render her some little assistance, she 
 soon found means to engage her in con- 
 versation. Age is apt to be garrulous, 
 and the best hearts are the least suspi- 
 cious ; therefore this new friend was soon 
 in possesion of the history of Bianca and 
 her son. " lie had marred his fortune," 
 she said, " by marrying so much above 
 himself, but she was such a sweet tem- 
 pered young creature, and so affectionate, 
 that they knew not how to be angry with 
 her." 
 
 ^ The trusty emissary now assured the
 
 166 
 
 old woman, that her husband had suffi- 
 cient interest at the court of the Grand 
 Duke, to procure some employment for 
 Peitro; and earnestly entreated that she 
 would [)rocure her an interview with 
 Bianca, protesting that she feit the great- 
 est interest for her, and wished for the 
 opportunity of rendering her some ser- 
 vices. 
 
 ' At the earnest petition of her mo- 
 ther-in-law, Bianca at length consented 
 to receive this new friend; and she was 
 in fact gratified by the visit; for it had 
 been long since accents of kindness, and 
 the most refined expressions of respect 
 and regard had been lavished upon her, 
 by one of her own sex. Few i>ersons 
 can be insensible to the dehcate insinua- 
 tions of affectionate friendship; and to the 
 unfortunate, they must be doubly dear! 
 Won by these flattering professions, Bi-
 
 167 
 
 anca was prevailed upon to make a visit 
 to the SigDora, who had an habitation 
 contiguous to the Palazzo, She stipu- 
 lated, however, that the consent of her 
 husband should be previously obtained, 
 without wliicli, she protested nothing 
 could induce her to accept the invita- 
 tion. The representation of the advant- 
 ages likely to result from such an inti- 
 macy, easily removed his scruples; and 
 it was fixed that the carriage of the 
 Signora should fetch her on the follow- 
 ing day. 
 
 ' Attired in the simple, but becom- 
 ing dress of a Venetian female of distinc- 
 tion, which almost invariably consists of a 
 thin black silk robe, fitted exactly to the 
 shape, and the train fiistened up on one 
 side with a tassel of gold; iier hair plait- 
 ed in broad folds; and without any other 
 ornament than chains of gold, round her
 
 168 
 
 neck and arms, Bianca entered the man- 
 sion of her friend, and was received with 
 pleasure bordering upon transport. Soon 
 after refreshments of coffee and ices had 
 been served, the door opened, and a gen- 
 tleman approached the Signora with all 
 the flimiliarity of an intimate acquaint- 
 ance, though without the appearance of 
 an expected guest. Bianca had no 
 sooner caught a view of his face and fi- 
 gure, than she knew him to be the Duke; 
 for both had made too lively an impres- 
 sion on her memory to be forgotten. 
 Surprized and grieved, though not at all 
 disconcerted, she rose, and received his 
 compliments with an air of respectful 
 dignit3% resulting from the knowledge of 
 his high rank, and the consciousness of 
 her own. It was evident that he felt dis- 
 appointed, at being known; but perceiv- 
 ing all chance of concealment at an end, 
 he gracefully acknowledged, that his visit
 
 169 
 
 had been preconcerted; gallantly adding, 
 that she was bound to pardon a transgres- 
 sion, which, she herself had occassioned; 
 for, that, the fame of her beauty had ex- 
 cited the irrepressible desire of seeing, and 
 being known to her. 
 
 ' The language of adulation was not 
 new to Bianca Capcllo; but it had never, 
 before, been addressed to the wife of 
 Pietro Buonoventuri. Her delicacy was 
 alarmed, the more especially as she per- 
 ceived that the Signora had quitted the 
 apartment; and prudence sugi>ested to 
 her, that the utmost circumspection, and 
 reserve of manners were necessary. 
 
 ' Whilst these thoughts were passing 
 in quick succession tljruugh her mind, 
 the Duke had surveyed her with raptur- 
 ous adn-iration. Ilcr Inauty Mas of that 
 fascinating kind, that it was scarcely pos- 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 
 
 sible to see her without feeling the most 
 powerful force of its attractions. His pe- 
 netration, however, led him ro discover 
 that hers was a mind of no common 
 stamp; and that her affections could be 
 won by no common means of attack. 
 To quiet the alarm which he plainly per- 
 ceived she endured, he directly led to 
 the circumstances of her situation, la- 
 menting that she had so long remained in 
 his territories without protection, or the 
 attention due to her rank. 
 
 *' I am grateful for the gracious con- 
 sideration your Highness bestows upon 
 me," replied she; " but when I deserted 
 my parents and my country, I renounced 
 all claim to rank. The heart of my hus- 
 band is the empire for wdiich I forsook 
 them; and I shall remain contented in 
 the midst of poverty, whilst I am rich in 
 the treasure of his affections !"
 
 171 
 
 ' Struck with the grandeur of her 
 sertiments, and more enamoured than 
 ever, he, in terms of interest and respect, 
 hinted at the danger to which they were 
 both exposed. This was, indeed, a 
 theme which vibrated exquisitely pain- 
 ful in every nerve of the trembhng 
 Bianca. 
 
 " Oh, great and good as you are !'* 
 exclaimed she, lifting up her tearful eyes 
 to him, " can you, and will you protect 
 us from such terrible punishment?'^ 
 
 " I can, and will!" replied the 
 Grand Duke, with a degree of emotion 
 he could neither repress or conceal, 
 *' Depend on my promise, and rest as- 
 sured that you are safe under my protec- 
 tion." He bowed, and departed. 
 
 ' ' Struck with this exalted and disin- 
 terested generosity, Bianca revived to new 
 1 2
 
 172 
 
 hopes of happiness; anr], in the first im- 
 pulse ot her joy, lavished on her friend, 
 who now re-entered the apartment, all 
 the effusions her full heart dictated. She 
 could not be prevailed upon to s.ay a 
 moment longer, so wildly impatient was 
 she become to impart the renewal of their 
 lives — the prospect of a better fortune — 
 to Pietro. 
 
 'The Duke, in the mean time, retired 
 to his closet, overwhelmed with love and 
 tormented by despair. His very soul was 
 subdued by the charms of Bianca. A 
 passionate admirer of beauty, the first 
 view he had of her, had made its usual 
 impression on his heart; but now he had 
 beheld the graceful dignity of her deport- 
 ment, had witnessed the sensibility of 
 her soul, and heard the mild but firm 
 sentiments of virtue which flowed from 
 her lips, and threw a sacred panoply over 
 her person, a new and refined sensation
 
 ,173 
 
 pervaded his bosom. Her afToction for 
 lier husband, although it annihilated his 
 hopes, excited his admiration, and the 
 tenderness of respect mingled itself with 
 the fervour of passion. 
 
 * He was found in this state of inqui- 
 etude by his confidant and adviser, wlio 
 opposed arguments to his despair, which 
 soothed his passion, if they did not dis- 
 pel his fears. He thought Pietro might 
 prove less invulnerable to the enticements 
 of wealth and power, than the disinterested 
 Bianca ; and prevailed upon his prince to 
 consent that the trial might be made. 
 
 ' It is said that prosperity is a stronger 
 test of the steadiness of principle than 
 adversity ; but it will perhaps be found, 
 that only base and ignoble minds can 
 lose their equanimity, in either situation. 
 That of Pietro sunk to the lowest point 
 of degradation, he yielded to the tempta- 
 I 3
 
 174 
 
 tions that were ofTtred him, and under- 
 took to bring his wife to his own way of 
 tliiiiking. Ashamed, however, to confess 
 that he had bartered her innocence for 
 riches, he only represented to her, tiiat 
 protection, and, consequently, safety, 
 could be secured to him no other means, 
 than by his appointment to some office of 
 honour and trust about the person of the 
 Grand Duke; and besought her, as she 
 valued him, to see his Serene Highness 
 often, and endeavour to conciliate his 
 favour. 
 
 * Bianca shrunk from an office inimi- 
 cal to the timid delicacy of her nature ; but 
 the wishes and happiness of an adored, 
 husband banished her scruples. She \\as 
 now thrown perpetually into the society 
 of the Grand Duke, surrounded by per- 
 sons whose manners and conversation 
 were congenial to her taste and feelings, 
 and restored to the luxuries of her former
 
 175 
 
 habits of life, Peilmps the contrast struck 
 her now more deeply from her late de- 
 privations. The brilliant talents of the 
 Duke, the fascination of his manners, and 
 the beauty of his person, claimed and 
 received her warmest admiration. Ex- 
 posed to the assiduities of this adoring 
 lover, and deserted by him who should 
 have been the protector of her honour, 
 tiie unhappy Bianca became at length 
 the devoted victim of her husband's base- 
 ness. 
 
 ' But although vice had found an 
 entrance into her heart, it had not yet 
 subdued her principles. Faithful to her 
 first affection, she still loved, and would 
 not be prevailed upon to desert, her hus- 
 band : the Grand Duke, therefore, gave 
 them a palazzo that had a communication 
 with his own, and Pietro was appointed 
 to an office of considerable importance 
 and greater emolument. The affection 
 I 4.
 
 176 
 
 of the Grand Duke for Bianca increased 
 almost to idolatry: he lived hut in her 
 presence; and devoted to her all those 
 hours which were not employed in the 
 service of the state. 
 
 ' Elated by his sudden elevation to 
 power, Pietro Buonoventuri soon forgot 
 his former abject state, and rendered 
 himself obnoxious to the courtiers by his 
 intolerable arrogance ; but the high de- 
 gvee of fluT^ur in which lie stood with the 
 Grand Duke, (for the generous Bianca 
 was insensible to any gratifications his 
 bounty bestowed upon her, except such 
 as conferred honours upon her husband) 
 rendered him an object to be feared, as 
 well as hated. The attentions which 
 were extorted from them by interest, he 
 mistook for tributes paid to his merit ; 
 and his vanity was soon as conspicuous 
 as his pride. The handsome person 
 which had won the affections of a Bianca
 
 177 
 
 Capello, he believed would prove irresisti- 
 ble among the beauties of Florence ; but 
 those of rank and title were only thought 
 worth his pursuit. A widow lady of high 
 distinction was at that time the reis^nino: 
 beauty of the place ; but she had brothers, 
 so tenacious of her honour, that two 
 suiters, who aspired to her favour^ 
 had been found massacred before her 
 door. This appeared alone the conquest 
 worthy obtaining; and the success of his 
 intrigue was not only made public, but 
 he also insulted the brothers by a sort of 
 triumphant contempt. Not daring to 
 avail themselves of any other mode of re- 
 taliation, they laid before the Grand Duke 
 a memorial of their injuries. Bianca had 
 secret information of their intentions, and 
 throwing herself at the feet of his Serene 
 Highness, besought him to pardon that 
 misconduct in her husband which mi^ht 
 have originated in her own. Touched with 
 the justic-c of the remark, no lo>^ than with 
 J 3
 
 178 
 
 her tears, be promised to try to appease 
 the wrath of the complainants, and pre- 
 vail upon Buonoventuri to act with more 
 circumspection in future. In conformity 
 with this promise, he immediaiely com- 
 manded the attendance of Pietro Buono- 
 venturi in his closet; and, after con- 
 descending to expostulate with him on 
 the impropriety of his conduct, bade him 
 consider the impolicy of it also ; adding 
 that, were he even to protect him from his 
 public enemies, in defiance of their re- 
 monstrances, it was impossible to skreen 
 him from private revenge. 
 
 * The manner in which be received 
 these admonitions, convinced tbe Grand 
 Duke that there was little room to hope 
 that he would profit by them ; and wish- 
 ing to spare his adored Bianca the pangs 
 he knew she would endure, if he was to 
 fall by the arm of an assassin, he resolved 
 to give him an appointment at some 
 foreign court.
 
 179 
 
 *The tender Bianca beard his deter- 
 mination with tears of real anguish ; nor 
 could she be reconciled to his departure, 
 until the Duke had unequivocally ex- 
 plained to her the dangerous predicament 
 in which he stood, and that nothing else 
 could preserve him from the rage which 
 he had provoked. 
 
 ' Convinced at length that his life 
 depended on this expedient, she under- 
 took to prepare him for the Duke's design; 
 and descending to his apartment, which 
 was on tlie ground floor, Vvith all the 
 eloquence whicb the fondest affection 
 could inspire, she besought him by a 
 prompt compliance vvith the Grand Duke's 
 wishes, to use the means of his own pre- 
 servation. Scarcely would he suffer her 
 to proceed ; and rendered infuriate by his 
 ungovernable temper, he reproached her 
 in the most brutal terms, and even menac- 
 ed her life, unless she prevailed upon the 
 I 6
 
 180 
 
 Duke to revoke liis design, which he 
 positively refused to assent to. 
 
 ' It happened that the Grand Duke 
 had forgot to say something of import- 
 ance to Bianca, and, therefore, hastily 
 returned to the palazzo, through the pri- 
 vate entrance, which he always used. 
 The high-raised voice of Buonoventur 
 arrested his footsteps ; and he distinctly 
 heard the expressions so offensive to him 
 self, as well as the indecent reproaches 
 and inhuman threats he used towards hi 
 wife. It is probable at that moment he 
 formed the resolution of abandoning so 
 worthless a wretch to his fate ; and a cir- 
 cumstance immediately succeeded, which 
 confirmed him in it. Pietro had rushed 
 from the precence of his wife, his rage 
 unsubdued, and taken his course to the 
 column of Santa Trinita, and here he 
 met Roberto Ricci, in company with 
 some other Signors of rank. Drawing a
 
 181 
 
 pistol from his pocket, he held it to the 
 breast of Ricci, and in the most opprobri- 
 ous lano'ua^e bade him beware of makino: 
 any further complaints to the Grand 
 Duke ; protesting that he would visit his 
 aunt whenever he chose, in defiance of 
 his whole family, 
 
 ' An outrage like this could not be 
 passed over with impunity. Ricci de- 
 manded an audience of the Grand Duke, 
 who unequivocally expressed his abhor- 
 rence of the act. Whether any more 
 passed, or whether this involved in it the 
 declaration that Pietro would no longer 
 be protected from the punishment he de- 
 served, is not known ; but certain it is 
 that the Duke left him to his fate, as he 
 directly set off for his villa in the 
 country. 
 
 ' The following day was spent by the 
 family of Cassandra BonL^ianni in taking
 
 182 
 
 measures for the perpetration of their re- 
 venge ; of which Pietro had not the least 
 suspicion, for he was buo3^ed up with a 
 perfect behef in his own safety, from the 
 known ascendency his wife possessed 
 over the Duke. In this imagined security 
 he went at night, as usual, to the house 
 of his mistress, whitiier he had been 
 watched by the emissaries of Roberto. 
 His page was then stationed at a little 
 distance, to give notice of his return by a 
 whistle. The friends of Ricci, ten or a 
 dozen in number, were then placed in 
 pairs in every avenue through which he 
 might pass. The page at length gave the 
 signal, which being a common practice 
 among hravos, l^ietro seemed to feel the 
 presage of danger, as he instantly drew 
 his pistols. He was suffered to proceed 
 to the private door of his palazzo, when 
 they surrounded him, and the voice of 
 Ricci, who called out " Kill the execrable 
 wretch,^' must well have informed him
 
 183 
 
 who his assilants were, and the little 
 chance he had of escape. He fired both 
 his pistols, and wounded some of his 
 enemies ; and placing his back against a 
 wall, made a brave defence for some time, 
 until a cousin of Ricci^s gave him a stroke 
 in the face, and seconding it with all his 
 might, cleft his scull, so that the brains 
 flew against the wall. He fell instantly 
 and they completed their work by giving 
 him thirty-tive mortal stabs in his body, 
 and then retreated, 
 
 'The death of Pietro was published 
 through the city with the earliest dawn, 
 and was immediately imparted to his wife, 
 who was seized with such paroxisms of 
 t^rief, that her attendants feared for her 
 life. Expresses were immediately sent for 
 the Grand Duke, and his cares and ten- 
 derness alone preserved her from distrac- 
 tion.
 
 184 
 
 ' The next night a similar catas- 
 trophe happened in the hous^e of Cassan- 
 dra. Some [)ersons got through rh ri)of 
 into her apartment, strangled her, and 
 left her dead on the floor. By lucans 
 horrible, as these, did lier family Avipe 
 away the infamy she had brought upon 
 them. 
 
 ' The Grand Duke gratified the 
 wishes of the weeping Bianca, by making 
 every possible enquiry after the perpetra- 
 tors of Buonoventuri's murder ; but such 
 was the odium in which he was held, 
 that no one would p^^int even a conjec- 
 ture at the assassins ; and, in a short 
 time, the affair was totally forp:otten. 
 
 ' The Duke, with a (lclica'\v insepa- 
 rable from real passim n. ioft it to titne, to 
 soften the sorrows and weaken the accu- 
 sations which Bianca had thrown on 
 herself. Her beauty, her virtues, the
 
 185 
 
 graces of her mind, and his own ardent 
 aOection, liad determined him to make 
 lier his wife from the moment he had 
 heard of the death of Buonoventuri. lie 
 reflected that he had obscured that fame, 
 which, but for him, might have remained 
 spotless: that her birth was iilustrions; 
 and that she alone who possessed his 
 heart, ought to share his power. 
 
 ' On the evening of the Twenty- 
 second of June, One Thousand Five Hun- 
 dred and Seventy-nine, they were pub- 
 licly married, and the Senate of Forty- 
 eight, by command of the Duke, did her 
 homage, as Grand Duchess. The follow- 
 ing day she made her public entree, 
 escorted by a guard, and attended by a 
 large train, in which were eight coaches. 
 Soon after this, the same Senate at \ en ice, 
 which had demanded her death, repealed 
 that decree, and enacted another, by 
 which she was adopted a daughter of the
 
 186 
 
 state; and a splendid embassy was sent 
 to Florence with a considerable dowry, 
 which had bern decreed her : neither 
 did her glory end here ; for she was 
 adored by her husband, and conciliated 
 the affections of all his subjects. 
 
 ' The vicissitudes of Bianca's life 
 had been so great and various, that it 
 might be imagined she would now enjoy 
 safety and repose. In fact, she was ele- 
 vated to a pinnacle of honour where dan- 
 ger could scarcely reach her. Alas ! for- 
 tune was not yet weary of persecuting 
 her, and she had yet to encounter evils 
 of a more fatal tendency, 
 
 ' The Grand Duke had announced 
 his marriage to his brother Ferdinando, 
 who was a Cardinal, and resided at Rome, 
 whose pride and |)rojudice, added to the 
 disappointment he felt at the probability 
 of his being cut off from the dukedom, to
 
 187 
 
 which he was next in succession, if Fran- 
 cisco died without children, all contribut- 
 ed to render hiin outrageous. Me openly 
 spoke of the marriage as disgraceful, and 
 even went so far as to say that Bianca 
 ought to be repudiated. He asserted 
 that no alliance, except that with a 
 crowned head, was suitable to the dignity 
 of the House of de Medici ; and seemed 
 to consider it a merritorious act to wipe 
 away the infamy thrown upon them, by 
 the death of Bianca. He was suspected 
 of engaging in several plots to poison her, 
 but they were defeated by the circum- 
 spection of the Duchess, who was so well 
 beloved, and possessed such unbounded 
 influence in the state, that she was con- 
 stantly informed whenever danger ap- 
 proached her in any form. 
 
 ' The Cardinal finding it impossible 
 to accomplish his designs by means of his 
 emissaries, affected great contrition for
 
 188 
 
 what had passed, and madp ovcFtiires for 
 a reconcih'ation with the Duke and Duch- 
 ess. Francisco, who lovod his brother, 
 and was too uudesigning l)iin«;t If to sus- 
 pect that treachery lurked beneath this 
 apparent sincerity, most gfadly consented 
 to bury the past in oblivion, and easily 
 prevailed upon his Duchess to consent to 
 receive him : he was therefore invited to 
 Florence, and met with a most cordial 
 reception both from his brother and 
 Bianca 
 
 ' It generally happens that those 
 who intend evil to others, are suspicious 
 that the same fate may be designed for 
 themselves. Thus he either was, or af- 
 fected to be fearful that the hatred of the' 
 Duchess would be productive of some 
 mischief to himself. She was informed of 
 these insinuations; but having a soul too 
 noblr to be capable of acting so basely, 
 and being unwilling to torment the Duke
 
 189 
 
 with a recital whinh she knew wonld dis- 
 tress him; the only use she made of the 
 information was, that of redouhliiig her 
 attention and kindness to the Cardinal, 
 in hopes that wotdd k'ad him to banish 
 such unworthy suspicions from his bosom. 
 
 ' It happened one day, that the 
 Duchess, in returning from a long walk, 
 to shorten the distance, had passed 
 through her kitchen. Seeing the cooks 
 busily employed in preparing some 
 pastry, she was seized with the whim 
 of making a tart, with her own hands. 
 When the confectionary was served up at 
 dinner, she gaily boasted of her perform- 
 ance, and invited the Cardinal to partake 
 of it. As he framed some excuse for de- 
 clining taking it, the Duke entreated it 
 might be sent to him; after which, the 
 Duchess lielped herself, and whilst they 
 eat of it, tlie conversation went on in as 
 lively a way as before. They were, how-
 
 190 
 
 ever, soon afterwards, and almost at the 
 same moment, seized with most violent 
 pains in their stomachs, and were carried 
 to their apartments, and put to bed; 
 while the Cardinal, by his officious or- 
 ders, prevented any physician or reme- 
 dies reaching them in time. They both 
 expired in the most excruciating tortures 
 on the 28th of October, 1586. 
 
 * Ferdinando immediately threw off 
 his Cardinals hat, and caused himself to 
 be proclaimed Grand Duke of Tuscany. 
 He gave them both a most magniticent 
 funeral; but caused it to be reported that 
 Bianca had prepared the poisoned tart for 
 him; and, that not being able to prevent 
 the Duke from eating it, she had after- 
 wards taken some herself, because she 
 would neilhrr survive the Joss of her 
 power, or dared to encounter the suspi- 
 cions which would f;>il upon her. This 
 story was too absurd for belief, and in fact
 
 191 
 
 gained no credit; for she could have no 
 motive for destroying a husband so doat- 
 inq;]y fond of her; and if she had known 
 the tart to be poisoned, nothing would 
 have been more easy than to have pre- 
 vented his taking it ; neither could she 
 herself have eaten of it v/ith so much 
 composure, nor have conversed after- 
 wards with the same good spirits as 
 before. Ferdinando pretended that he 
 had discovered the poison in the tart, by 
 means of a ring which he always wore, 
 and which chano^ed its colour whenever 
 any poison was near it. Had this been 
 the case, he stood convicted of being 
 himself an accessary to the murder, as he 
 miglit have warned the unhappy prince 
 of his danger; and the permissiGn of such 
 an act, is scarcely less criminal than the 
 commission of it. As no one could investi- 
 gate the matter, but the then reigning 
 Duke, the atrocious wretches, who had 
 been bribed by him, escaped detection;
 
 192 
 
 but he was in secret held in detestation; 
 and the severe fate of Bianca Capello, ex- 
 cited the greatest share of pity/ 
 
 Count Marioni ceased reading: and 
 the pause, which continued for some mo- 
 ments, evinced how deeply his auditory 
 had been interested in the narration. 
 
 " Her fortunes were indeed severe,'^ 
 said the Marchesa, shuddering, " she 
 appears to have involved every one in 
 luin." 
 
 ^' She won my heart,'' said Olivia, 
 " by her behaviour to tiie parents of 
 Pietro/^ 
 
 " And would mine too," replied 
 Rosalie, *' ii 1 could have forgot that 
 she had deserted her own. Surely the
 
 193 
 
 fir^t and most sacred duties of life, are the 
 parental ones. Had I been blessed — '* 
 she paused, and then added, " I have 
 read of some country where ingratitude 
 alone was punished with death ; for every 
 other crime was thought a virtue, com- 
 pared to that. If I may judge, ingratitude 
 to fond and indulgent parents" — she 
 again paused, overcome by her emo- 
 tions. 
 
 " The errors of Bianca, observed 
 Count Marioni, originated in her sensi- 
 bility, the first charm in the female cha- 
 racter, whilst it is regulated by pru- 
 dence ; the most dangerous one when it 
 is allowed too great a degree of indul- 
 gence. It was this which consii,^n'^d her 
 to the arms of a worthless lover ; it was 
 this which led her to sacrifice her fame 
 to the prosperity of a contemptible hus- 
 band : and, I must own, the pity 1 grant 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 
 
 her, is paid rather to ber weakness, than 
 to her misfortunes/' 
 
 " Your opinions are generally so 
 correct,'^ said Rosalie, addressing Count 
 Marion i, " that I am always afraid to op- 
 pose them. Yet I must venture to say, 
 that the equanimity with which she en- 
 countered the transitions from splendour 
 to abject poverty, and again to power and 
 pre^eminence, mark the features of a 
 strong and exalted mind, which, bad it 
 found a congenial spirit, in its first elec- 
 tion, might have been stimulated to the 
 highest virtues." 
 
 "I grant, all this,^^ replied Count 
 Marioni, smiling, " and a great deal more. 
 For I acknowledge that the ill-assorted 
 unions which most of your sex form, 
 chill, rather than foster the viitues of 
 which they are capable.*^
 
 195 
 
 " You are certainly right/' said the 
 Marschesa, with a deep sigh. 
 
 " I am astonished to observe how- 
 much the practice of employing hired 
 ruffians, for the purpose of revenge, has 
 been encouraged among so gentle and 
 enlightened a people as the Italians,^' 
 said Lord Villers. 
 
 " Most national traits and foibles are 
 indefensible,^* replied the Count, " and 
 are only tolerated because long usage 
 has made them famihar. I remember 
 making precisely the same remark when 
 1 was in England, on the horrible custom 
 of duelling ; where you blow out the 
 brains of your most intimate friends with 
 your own hands." 
 
 •" But you will acknowledge," re- 
 k2
 
 196 
 
 torted Lord Villers, " that there is more 
 honour in chastising your enemy openly, 
 and more bravery in putting your an- 
 tagonist upon a par with yourself." 
 
 " I admit there is all that courage in 
 it for which your nation is famous," re- 
 plied Count Marioni ; " but I object 
 totally to that point of honour which you 
 term putting your antagonist upon a par 
 with yourself. If a man has done you 
 the deepest injury, you offer him the 
 further power of widowing the wife of 
 your aiTections, and robbing your chil- 
 dren of their parent ; or of depriving age 
 of its comfort and support, and rendering 
 an ancient family destitute of a successor 
 to their titles and their virtues. Surely, 
 sun ly. if we were guided merely by 
 equitable maxims for those transgressions 
 which lie beyond the punishment of the
 
 197 
 
 law, the transgressor alone ought to 
 suffer/' 
 
 '* Permit me" said Rosalie, " to in- 
 terrupt your argument, by begging you 
 to listen to those svveeet strains which 
 steal on the eveing air, and die away so 
 softly with the passing breeze. From 
 whence can they proceed !^^ 
 
 " It is the evening serenade of 
 some lover to his mistress,^^ replied 
 Count Marioni ; and surely the whole 
 vocabulary of love cannot supply more 
 melting accents than those which we 
 now hear." 
 
 *' It reminds me," said the Mar- 
 chesa, " that the hour must be much 
 later than I had supposed, and that it is 
 time to return to the palazzo. We are 
 greatly indebted to Count Marioni for the 
 k3
 
 198 
 
 interesting evening he has afforded usr. 
 But I rather think he will rob me of my 
 slumbers; or, more properly speaking, 
 supply to them images of the unfortunate 
 Bianca, and the detestable Cardinal Fer- 
 dinando/^
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Oh, place and greatness ! Millions of fiilse 
 Eyes are stuck upon thee.** 
 
 RosALiE^s thoughts were too much 
 occupied by the narrative she had hstened 
 to, for sleep to visit her eye-hds. She 
 anxiously strove to discover in the events 
 and the characters, to what she might 
 K 4
 
 200 
 
 ascribe the Marchese's agitation at the 
 first mention of the History, and his 
 Subsequent visible dislike to be present 
 at the reading of it. Her heart recoiled 
 a' most from the selection, yet busy fancy 
 still presented the artful, haughty, insidi- 
 ous Ferdinando as his prototype. God 
 of heaven, had he then committed, or 
 even meditated, murder ! Too sure, 
 giiilt of some sort sat upon his consci- 
 ence ; yet she dared not conjecture of 
 what nature, extent, or magnitude. Per- 
 haps he had betrayed some unfortunate 
 female, whose untimely fate bore a re- 
 semblance to that of the unhappy Bianca. 
 Yet could remorse so strongly betray it- 
 self for a circumstance like that, when 
 his recent conduct to herself proved him 
 incapable either of honour or humanity? 
 To the Cardinal; to the murderer of his 
 exalted brother and Bianca, her thoughts, 
 in spite of her efforts, would still recur.
 
 201 
 
 She recollected from the very first mo- 
 ment she had seen him, she had ft It an 
 unconquerable dislike to him, which even 
 her attachment to two individuals of Kls 
 family could not subdue. Was it not this 
 prejudice which had perverted her judge- 
 ment, and magnified ' trifles light as air 
 to confirmations strong?' Perhaps she 
 had herself to accuse of most unwarrant- 
 able suspicions, and flagrant injustice; 
 and she took herself severely to task for* 
 yielding to the suggestions of imagina- 
 tion, rather than the conviction of her 
 reason. She asked herself whether she 
 could communicate these suspicions,from 
 surmises only, to her beloved superior, 
 this being the test by which she gene- 
 rally examined her actions; and finding 
 she could not, determined to banish such 
 sentiments in future, as unworthy a placa- 
 ia a liberal mind. 
 
 K /j
 
 202 
 
 The Marchese joined them at break- 
 fast the followino: morning. He looked 
 gloomy, was silent unless he was spoken 
 to, and then answered peevishly. The 
 Marchesa appeared mortified, and the con- 
 versation became almost stagnant ; she 
 at length said — " One can never forget 
 the extraordinary life of Bianca Capello ; 
 but the most surprising part of the story 
 is, that the Florentines would permit 
 Cardinal Ferdinando, the murderer of his 
 brother, the excellent Francisco, to as- 
 sume the Dukedom/^ 
 
 " The murderer of his brother !^' re- 
 peated the Marchese, in a voice of pecu- 
 liar expression. 
 
 Rosalie felt that it added to the pul- 
 sations of her heart; and, involuntarily, 
 she raised her eyes to the Marchese.
 
 203 
 
 She perceived his lips quiver, as he bent 
 a look of scrutiny on the Marchesa. 
 
 " Was he not generally believed 
 so?" asked the Marchesa, without ob 
 serving him. 
 
 " Oh, too surely l'^ exclaimed Olivia, 
 for the Marchese gave no reply. " But 
 pray, my Lord, what was his own end? 
 Some dreadful punishment, no doubt, 
 awaited him." 
 
 " I believe his life was prosperous 
 and his death natural," replied the Mar- 
 chese with re-assumed composure; " and, 
 therefore, according to your own calcula- 
 tions, he must have been accused un- 
 justly." 
 
 At this moment Lord \'illcrs entered, 
 K 6*
 
 204 
 
 and the conversation took a more lively 
 turn. Part of the morning was devoted 
 to music, and the remainder to an airing 
 through the delightful environs of Flo- 
 rence. A large party assemhled together 
 at dinner-time, and the gloom of the 
 Marchese was entirely dissipated, 
 
 " The great predilection which the 
 Itahans have for their cassinos, is a tacit 
 acknowledgment that too much state is 
 incompatible with the social enjoyments 
 of lifc,^^ remarked Lord Villers to Rosalie, 
 as they strolled from one room to another. 
 " Their palazzos are on so vast a scale, and 
 their attendants so numerous, that they 
 actually impose a degree of solemnity 
 upon the manners, and set domestic ease 
 at defiance. Do you never observe how 
 differently we meet in these small houses, 
 which are fitted up with neatness, but 
 without expence, and where you are
 
 £05 
 
 received without form, and entertained 
 without ostentation or ceremony]" 
 
 " Indeed I do," replied Rosalie, 
 " who am, as you know, new to every 
 thing in polished life, even in my native 
 country. When I came here first, I 
 heard them speak of the cassinos with so 
 much pleasure, that I will own I expected 
 something very different, an^l was disap- 
 pointed when I found they consisted of 
 only small houses, with two or three 
 rooms in them, where people sat down 
 to play cards, and to converse; or, to sup 
 in the most simple style. But 1 soon 
 perceived that those hours, whicli are de- 
 voted to the cassino, are, in fact, all that 
 the possessors of such immense fabrics 
 can be said to enjoy truly, and call their 
 own. Every body knows, that, they 
 must derive amusemL^nt here from their 
 own exertions; and, the entertainer and
 
 206 
 
 the guest, forgfet the arlventitious advant- 
 ages of wealth, aru! leciprocaily receive 
 from each other improvement, or enter- 
 tainment/' 
 
 " I have travelled from my own 
 country," said Lord Villcrs, " to survey 
 the grandeur of ancient and modern 
 Italy; and I trace with a degree of de- 
 light, that is inexpressible, every object 
 that presents itself to my senses: but, as 
 an Englishman, T feel myself almost at 
 home in these little domesticated cir- 
 cles; so nearly do the conversaziones ap- 
 proach to the social enjoyments of my 
 own nation." 
 
 Olivia, who had been separated from 
 them by sorre commands of the i\Iar- 
 chesa, now approached, and said, " I 
 have been seated at the game of Lota, 
 while my mother perused some letters.
 
 207 
 
 I dare say I have committed a million of 
 blunders, but my antagonists were too 
 polite to tell me of my errors." 
 
 " Perhaps they profited by theml'* 
 exclaimed Rosalie, laughing. 
 
 " They must have been as blind as 
 the goddess they worship," said Lord 
 Villers, " if they could attribute any 
 errors to you, Signora." 
 
 Olivia blushed deeply, " Are not 
 the English famous for comphments]" 
 said she. 
 
 " No ; they* are distinguished for 
 their love of sincerity. It is the natural 
 characteristic, and I pride myself upon it, 
 more than any other.'^ 
 
 As they conversed they reached the
 
 208 
 
 card tabV wb' e the Marohesa was en- 
 gaged; and it was visible to Rosaiie and 
 Olivia, that something had extremely dis- 
 concerted her. Her absence of mind 
 encreased every moment, and as soon as 
 the party broke up, she desired the car- 
 riages might instantly draw up. On her 
 arrival at home, she retired to her own 
 apartment, and left the two friends ra- 
 ther painfully employed, in conjecturing 
 the cause of her purturbation. 
 
 At an early hour the following morn- 
 ing, Olivia was summoned to her mo- 
 ther's dressing-room; and, in passing the 
 corridor, she perreived that a travelling 
 carriage waited ac the portico of the pa- 
 lazzo; and, to her great surprize, found 
 her mother equipped lor a journey. 
 " Olivia,'' said she, " your brother is at 
 the castle of Monto Marco, living all 
 alone; and he writes to excuse his at-
 
 209 
 
 tendance nt the assembly I am to give in 
 honour of the Duke of Altieri's family, 
 and the nephew of Cardinal Berninij who 
 you know are to arrive tomorrow evening. 
 His sechiding himself, at such a time, 
 and in such a place, puzzles, as much as 
 it vexes, me; and, I go to ascertain the 
 cause, and try my influence to bring him 
 back again. His letter, which 1 received 
 last night, disturbed me so much, that I 
 could not readily determine what plan to 
 pursue. However, I believe, 1 have 
 adopted the one, and perhaps the only 
 one, which is likely to develope the mys- 
 tery of his present conduct. The expe- 
 dition with which 1 shall be obliged to 
 travel, as I must inevitably be at home 
 tomorrow night, will fatigue me much; 
 do not neglect to hasten the people who 
 are employed in decorating the apart- 
 ments; and above all things, be attentive
 
 210 
 
 to the elegance and splendour of your 
 own dress. ^* 
 
 Without waiting for a reply, she 
 hurried on to her carriage. Olivia, much 
 surprized, ran to communicate this event 
 to Rosalie. 
 
 " And where is Monto ^NlarcoT* 
 
 " Some leagues distant from hence, 
 I believe ; and it is a deserted old castello 
 of my father's, as desolate in itself, as the 
 place is gloomy where it is situated; on 
 both which accounts, it has long been 
 abandoned. What can induce Leonardo 
 to stay at such a place, 1 cannot ima- 
 gine/^ 
 
 " If he is not ill, he must surely be 
 unhappy," said Rosalie.
 
 211 
 
 " I greatly fear the latter," replied 
 Olivia with a sigh; "and I ara tempted 
 to beheve, that he has formed some at- 
 tachment on his travels, which he dares 
 not avow to my father, on account of the 
 engagements he is under with the Lady 
 Madalene ; and to which he gave a tacit 
 consent. If my conjectures are well 
 founded, I shall be greatly grieved; for I 
 am persuaded, the Marchese will never 
 be prevailed upon to give up an alhance 
 with the Duke; and it will occasion 
 much unhappiness to both families." 
 
 " Is Lady Madalene much attached 
 to the Signor Barrazzi?" 
 
 " They have never seen each other 
 since she was a mere girl, and he has no 
 sort of recollection of her; but she has 
 heard him so highly spoken of, that she
 
 212 
 
 fancys herself, or at least is prepared to 
 become, desperately in love witli him." 
 
 " Is she amiable and handsome?" 
 
 *' I am told both ; but she is an hei- 
 ress, and a Right Floiir.urable, and of 
 course, must be fascinating: Indeed the 
 alliance, in every point of view, is most 
 advantageous for Leonardo." 
 
 " And could Leonardo consent to 
 marry a woman, with whose person 
 and disposition he was wholly unac- 
 quainted?" 
 
 ^' tlie hearts of both his parents were 
 so fixed on ihe accomplishment of this 
 union, that probably, at the time he as- 
 sented to it, as he had formed no other 
 partiality, he found his own gratification 
 in conforming to their wishes."
 
 213 
 
 *^ I hope — that is — I think, you may 
 be mistaken in your surmises. It is pro- 
 bable, at least, he would see Lady Mada- 
 lene, before he rejected her.^* 
 
 " Nay my sweet Rosalie, you must 
 own it would be a delicacy, more worthy 
 my brother's character, to decline het 
 alliance unseen; as that would preserve 
 her from the personal mortification she 
 would otherwise endure: and it is to this 
 cause that 1 attribute his absence, and his 
 determination to remain at a distance/^ 
 
 " Then you have no expectations 
 that the Marchesa will succeed in bring- 
 ing him back with her?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! my expectations are, that 
 some terrible explanations will take place ; 
 and that our approaching Fete^ will be 
 converted into scenes of dismay, and 
 confusion.'^
 
 214 
 
 *' Oh, my Olivia, that I had never 
 quitted the convent! There, if we never 
 partook of the fascinating jo}'s of gran- 
 deur, we escaped the tumult of worldly 
 passions, and disappointed hopes. Hap- 
 piness I am convinced is merely relative, 
 an:l may be made to result from the most 
 simple enjoyments. Do you not recol- 
 lect the story which our excellent friend 
 the good Father Sebastiano has often told 
 us, of the ecstacy which was felt by Rou- 
 gcau, when a student in botony, on dis- 
 covering the structure of the lovely blos- 
 som of the Brunelli] To every person he 
 afterwards met with, as a standard hy 
 which he mi,i>ht measure their happiness, 
 he constantly put the question, ' whether 
 they had seen the tendrils of the Bru- 
 nelli!'— ^* 
 
 " Oh, yes, I remember it well," said 
 Olivia; "and I remember 1 thought at
 
 215 
 
 that time, that I never could be so happy 
 as I was then; but we accommodate 
 ourselves with facility," added she, archly, 
 " to different prospects. The only fear 
 which then tormented me was, the being 
 separated from my beloved frit nd. Now 
 I am at ease on that head; for whatever 
 be my fate, you have promised to share 
 it with me," 
 
 " Your prospects are indeed happy 
 my Olivia; and never may they be ob- 
 scured by a single cloud ! But mine are 
 uncertain — mysterious ! — The brightest 
 ray which gilds the distant and dark ho- 
 rizon, is your friendship. We cannot be 
 severed in that: neither can I be wholly 
 unhappy whilst I preserve so inestimable 
 a blessing." 
 
 End of the First Volume >
 
 Pfiutcdby Wall $ EI.I^Gf RichmoiHl, Surrey.
 
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