The Bravo of Venice Part 13

"Welcome, n.o.ble youth!" said the Doge, when he saw the Florentine enter his apartment. "You must not in future deprive me of your presence for so long. I am now a poor forsaken old man. You have heard that Lomellino--that Manfrone--"

"I know all," answered Flodoardo, with a melancholy air.

"Satan has burst his chains, and now inhabits Venice under the name of Abellino, robbing me of all that my soul holds precious.

Flodoardo, for Heaven's love, be cautious; often, during your absence, have I trembled lest the miscreant's dagger should have deprived me too of YOU. I have much to say to you, my young friend, but I must defer it till the evening. A foreigner of consequence has appointed this hour for an audience, and I must hasten to receive him--but in the evening--"

He was interrupted by the appearance of Rosabella, who, with tottering steps and pale cheeks, advanced slowly into the apartment.

She saw Flodoardo, and a faint blush overspread her countenance.

Flodoardo rose from his seat, and welcomed her with an air of distant respect.

"Do not go yet," said the Doge; "perhaps in half an hour I may be at liberty: in the meanwhile I leave you to entertain my poor Rosabella. She has been very ill during your absence; and I am still uneasy about her health. She kept her bed till yesterday, and truly I think she has left it too soon."

The venerable Doge quitted the apartment, and the lovers once more found themselves alone. Rosabella drew near the window; Flodoardo at length ventured to approach it also.

"Signora," said he, "are you still angry with me?"

"I am not angry with you," stammered out Rosabella, and blushed as she recollected the garden scene.

"And you have quite forgiven my transgression?"

"Your transgression?" repeated Rosabella, with a faint smile; "yes, if it was a transgression, I have quite forgiven it. Dying people ought to pardon those who have trespa.s.sed against them, in order that they, in their turn, may be pardoned their trespa.s.ses against Heaven--and I am dying; I feel it."

"Signora!"

"Nay, 'tis past a doubt. It's true, I have quitted my sick-bed since yesterday; but I know well that I am soon to return to it, never to leave it more. And therefore--therefore, I now ask your pardon, signor, for the vexation which I was obliged to cause to you the last time we met."

Flodoardo replied not.

"Will you not forgive me? You must be very difficult to appease-- very revengeful!"

Flodoardo replied not.

"Will you refuse my offered hand? Shall all be forgotten?"

"Forgotten, lady? Never, never--every word and look of yours is stamped on my memory, never to be effaced. I cannot forget a transaction in which YOU bore a part: I cannot forget the scene that pa.s.sed between us, every circ.u.mstance is too precious and sacred. As to PARDON"--he took her extended hand and pressed it respectfully to his lips--"I would to Heaven, dear lady, that you had in truth injured me much, that I might have much to forgive you.

Alas! I have at present nothing to pardon."

Both were now silent. At length Rosabella resumed the conversation by saying--"You have made a long absence from Venice; did you travel far?"

"I did."

"And received much pleasure from your journey?"

"Much; for everywhere I heard the praises of Rosabella."

"Count Flodoardo," she interrupted him with a look of reprehension, but in a gentle voice, "would you again offend me?"

"That will soon be out of my power. Perhaps you can guess what are my present intentions."

"To resume your travels soon?"

"Exactly so; and the next time that I quit Venice, to return to it no more."

"No more?" she repeated, eagerly. "Oh, not so, Flodoardo! Ah, can you leave me?"--She stopped, ashamed of her imprudence. "Can you leave my uncle? I meant to say. You do but jest, I doubt not."

"By my honour, lady, I never was more in earnest."

"And whither, then, do you mean to go?"

"To Malta, and a.s.sist the knights in their attacks upon the corsairs of Barbary. Providence, perhaps, may enable me to obtain the command of a galley, then will I call my vessel 'Rosabella;' then shall the war-cry be still 'Rosabella;' that name will render me invincible."

"Oh! this is a mockery, Count. I have not deserved that you should sport with my feelings so cruelly."

"It is to SPARE your feelings, signora, that I am now resolved to fly from Venice; my presence might cause you some uneasy moments. I am not the happy man whose sight is destined to give you pleasure; I will, at least, avoid giving you pain."

"And you really can resolve to abandon the Doge, whose esteem for you is so sincere, whose friendship has always been so warm?"

"I value his friendship highly, but it is not sufficient to make me happy, and could he lay kingdoms at my feet, still would his friendship be insufficient to make me happy."

"Does, then, your happiness require so much?"

"It does--much more than I have mentioned, infinitely more. But one boon can make me happy; I have begged for it on my knees." He caught her hand and pressed it eagerly to his lips. "I have begged for it, Rosabella, and my suit has been rejected."

"You are a strange enthusiast," she said with difficulty, and scarcely knew what she said, while Flodoardo drew her gently nearer to him, and murmured in a supplicating voice, "Rosabella!"

"What would you of me?"

"My happiness!"

She gazed upon him for a moment undecided, then hastily drew away her hand, and exclaimed, "Leave me, this moment, I command you.

Leave me, for Heaven's sake!"

Flodoardo clasped his hands together in despair and anguish. He bowed his head in token of obedience. He left her with slow steps and a melancholy air, and as he pa.s.sed the threshold, turned to bid her farewell for ever. Suddenly she rushed towards him, caught his hand, and pressed it to her heart.

"Flodoardo," she cried, "I am thine!" and sank motionless at his feet.

CHAPTER II: A DANGEROUS PROMISE.

And now who was so blessed as the fortunate Flodoardo? The victory was his own, he had heard the wished-for sentence p.r.o.nounced by the lips of Rosabella. He raised her from the ground, and placed her on a sofa. Her blue eyes soon unclosed themselves once more, and the first object which they beheld was Flodoardo kneeling at her feet, while with one arm he encircled her waist. Her head sank upon the shoulder of the man for whom she had breathed so many sighs, who had occupied so many of her thoughts by day, who had been present in so many of her dreams by night.

As they gazed in silent rapture on each other, they forgot that they were mortals; they seemed to be transported to a happier, to a better world. Rosabella thought that the chamber in which she sat was transformed into an earthly Paradise; invisible seraphs seemed to hallow by their protecting presence the indulgence of her innocent affection, and she poured forth her secret thanks to Him who had given her a heart susceptible of love.

Through the whole course of man's existence, such a moment as this occurs but once. Happy is he who sighs for its arrival; happy is he who, when it arrives, has a soul worthy of its enjoyment; happy is even he for whom that moment has long been pa.s.sed, so it pa.s.sed not unenjoyed, for the recollection of it still is precious. Sage philosophers, in vain do you a.s.sure us that the raptures of a moment like this are mere illusions of a heated imagination, scarcely more solid than an enchanting dream, which fades before the sunbeams of truth and reason. Alas! does there exist a happiness under the moon which owes not its charms in some degree to the magic of imagination!