In the shameful times when the right of the "coscia" existed, princes
had little necessity to woo a humble maiden, or to sue for her favor. At
the present day things have assumed a different aspect. Although princes
exist who possess as much pride of birth, or even more, than those
of old days, still we see many obliged to conform to more moderate
pretensions in matters of the heart, aspiring humbly to the favor of a
plebeian divinity. Such were the thoughts of poor Prince T-.
He stood in the vestibule of the Zecchini Palace, admiring the throng of
graceful visitors. In the crowded saloons it was difficult to do justice
to the faces, and still less to the deportment of the ladies. From
that part of the vestibule, on the first step, where the Roman prince
had established himself, observation was easier.
Suddenly, from the midst of the crowd emerged, as if by destiny, one
of those forms which, once seen, are reflected in the soul forever.
Golden-brown eyes, hair, and eyelashes adorned a face which would have
served Titian as a model of beauty--in a word, he saw the type of the
Venetian ideal. The Prince, until then immovable in the crowd hurrying
to and fro, was struck by a glance of those wonderful eyes, which seemed
to look at every thing and every body, without for a moment fixing their
glance on any.
As if under a spell, the Prince rushed after the footsteps of the
unknown lady, whose light foot seemed to float over the ground. He
hurried on after her, but the wish to overtake her was one thing, the
capability another. The beautiful and graceful girl, either more active
or more accustomed to fashionable throngs in Venice, was already seated
in a gondola, and had ordered the gondolier to put off when the Prince
reached the edge of the canal.
What could he do? throw himself into the water, and seize on the gunwale
of the lady's boat, like a madman, begging a word for pity's sake? This
was his first impulse; yet a bath in the waters of the lagoon in March
would be no joke, while to present himself before the lady of his
thoughts in the condition which would result from immersion, would be
unpropitious, and an especial trial to the dignity of a man of rank. He
decided on taking a more rational course, that of embarking in a
gondola and following the incognita. "Row hard," said the Prince to the
gondolier, "and if you overtake that black gondola I will reward you
well."
Having pointed out the boat to be pursued, the gondolier cried "Avanti"
to his companion at the prow, and turning up his red shirt sleeves (red
shirts being the prevailing fashion just then among the Venetian rowers,
in honor of the guest of the day), the gondolier prepared to use the oar
with that grace and vigor which is not to be rivalled by any boatmen in
the world.
"Onward! onward! _gondola mio!_ onward and overtake that too swift boat
which bears away my life; and why should not that lovely girl be such to
me, the Adriatic beauty of which I have dreamed a thousand times, when
Venice was enslaved as my poor Rome still is? Yet why did I only catch a
glimpse of her? Why did her dazzling eye thus meet mine, subdue me in
a moment, and make me hers forever, only to disappear? and has not her
magic glance wounded others as well as me? The very atmosphere around
her intoxicated me; must it not have affected all near her? _Ah, Dio!_
is this love at last? Is this that transient passion which men enjoy as
they bite at doubtful fruits and throw them away when tasted? or is
it that spiritual love which brings the creature near to God, which
transforms the miseries of life, its dangers, death itself, into
ineffable happiness? Yes! it is that; and now, come ye powerful of the
earth, dare but to touch my mistress whom I love with indescribable
passion, approach her with an army of ruffians at your back, profane
but the hem of her gown, and my sword shall defy all for her sweet sake.
Onward! onward!" cried the Prince, interrupting his own soliloquy. "Row
hard, and if one crown be not enough, you shall have ten. Onward!"
"But suppose she were a plebeian? Well! in the name of heaven what is
a plebeian? When God created man did he make patricians and plebeians?
Does not the power that awes the vulgar come from tyrants and despots?"
"Ah! if that beautiful young creature should prove an impure, a nameless
one!"
"Oh, blasphemer of love, cease your profanity! How could a guilty
woman's face show such pure transcendent loveliness!"
Annita _was_ a plebeian. The entrance to her dwelling showed that.
There stood no columned porch where the gondola drew up before a simple
door-step. The plain little staircase was bare; no rich vases with
exotic flowers stood about the threshold. A few flower-pots adorned the
window-sills, for Annita loved flowers as well as a princess could love
them, but hers were little, simple blossoms--I will not say poor ones,
for they were dear to the young girl, a very treasure to her.
An aged lady, who by day would have attracted the attention of every
one--so great was the anxiety depicted on her face--had awaited
until that moment, eleven at night, her beloved Annita, who, with the
curiosity of a child, had desired, like others, to have a close view of
the man of the people. Mario, her only brother, being absent, the mother
had confided her to the care of the family gondolier.
When Monna Rosa had ascertained that the newly arrived gondola was that
which she expected, she left the balcony, where she had been watching
with great misgivings for its arrival, and rapidly descended the stairs,
lantern in hand, to receive her beloved child. The two women were
clasped in each other's arms, as if after a long separation, when
the Prince arrived, and taking advantage of the open door, and of the
evident attention of the mother and daughter, he entered the house
with the audacity of a soldier on a conquered territory. At length,
disengaged from each other's arms, the mother was exclaiming in a
tone of gentle reproach, "Why so late, Annita?" when both started on
perceiving the presence of a stranger.
Having entered on a bold adventure, the Prince felt that he must carry
it through with spirit. He therefore advanced towards the young girl,
who, when so near, seemed more beautiful than ever.
He was about to try to find words to excuse his impetuous and
irrepressible admiration, when at that moment an iron grasp from behind
seized his wrist, and with a shake that made him stagger, separated him
from the women.
From a third gondola, which had arrived a short time after the two
first, there had sprung out swiftly and resolutely a new and youthful
actor on this interesting scene. Tall in stature, vigorous and handsome
in person, the last arrival wore the red shirt, and on the left side of
his broad breast bore that distinctive mark of the brave, "The Medal of
the Thousand."
Morosini was Annitas lover. An attentive observer would have read in the
young girl's face a world of affectionate emotion at the sight of
her beloved, succeeded by an expression of affright, when his manly,
sonorous voice, addressed the Prince, "You are mistaken, sir! You will
not find here the game you seek; retrace your steps, and make your
search elsewhere."
The shaking he had received, and the rough words that followed, had
aroused the Prince's ire, and as he was not wanting in courage, he
answered his interlocutor in the same tone.
"Insolent rascal! I came not here to affront, but to offer respectful
homage. As for your impertinence, if you are a man of Rome, you will
give me satisfaction. Here is my card. I shall be found at the Victoria
Hotel, and at your service, until mid-day to-morrow."
"I will not keep you waiting," was Morosini's reply, and with this the
disconcerted Prince flung away.