CHAPTER XXXVIII
VIOLETTA D'ISORELLA
The villa inhabited by Countess d'Isorella was on the water'sedge, within clear view of the projecting Villa Ricciardi, in thatdarkly-wooded region of the lake which leads up to the Italian-Swisscanton.
Violetta received here an envoy from Anna of Lenkenstein, direct out ofMilan: an English lady, calling herself Mrs. Sedley, and a particularfriend of Countess Anna. At the first glance Violetta saw that hervisitor had the pretension to match her arts against her own; so, tosound her thoroughly, she offered her the hospitalities of the villafor a day or more. The invitation was accepted. Much to Violetta'sastonishment, the lady betrayed no anxiety to state the exact termsof her mission: she appeared, on the contrary, to have an unboundedsatisfaction in the society of her hostess, and prattled of herself andAntonio-Pericles, and her old affection for Vittoria, with the wiliestsimplicity, only requiring to be assured at times that she spokeintelligible Italian and exquisite French. Violetta supposed her to feelthat she commanded the situation. Patient study of this womanrevealed to Violetta the amazing fact that she was dealing with aborn bourgeoise, who, not devoid of petty acuteness, was unaffectedlyenjoying her noble small-talk, and the prospect of a footing in Italianhigh society. Violetta smiled at the comedy she had been playing in,scarcely reproaching herself for not having imagined it. She proceededto the point of business without further delay.
Adela Sedley had nothing but a verbal message to deliver. The CountessAnna of Lenkenstein offered, on her word of honour as a noblewoman,to make over the quarter of her estate and patrimony to the Countessd'Isorella, if the latter should succeed in thwarting--something.
Forced to speak plainly, Adela confessed she thought she knew the natureof that something.
To preclude its being named, Violetta then diverged from the subject.
"We will go round to your friend the signor Antonio-Pericles at VillaRicciardi," she said. "You will see that he treats me familiarly, but heis not a lover of mine. I suspect your 'something' has something to dowith the Jesuits."
Adela Sedley replied to the penultimate sentence: "It would not surpriseme, indeed, to hear of any number of adorers."
"I have the usual retinue, possibly," said Violetta.
"Dear countess, I could be one of them myself!" Adela burst out withtentative boldness.
"Then, kiss me."
And behold, they interchanged that unsweet feminine performance.
Adela's lips were unlocked by it.
"How many would envy me, dear Countess d'Isorella!"
She really conceived that she was driving into Violetta's heart by thegreat high-road of feminine vanity. Violetta permitted her to think asshe liked.
"Your countrywomen, madame, do not make large allowances for beauty, Ihear."
"None at all. But they are so stiff! so frigid! I know one, a Miss Ford,now in Italy, who would not let me have a male friend, and a character,in conjunction."
"You are acquainted with Count Karl Lenkenstein?"
Adela blushingly acknowledged it.
"The whisper goes that I was once admired by him," said Violetta.
"And by Count Ammiani."
"By count? by milord? by prince? by king?"
"By all who have good taste."
"Was it jealousy, then, that made Countess Anna hate me?"
"She could not--or she cannot now."
"Because I have not taken possession of her brother."
"I could not--may I say it?--I could not understand his infatuationuntil Countess Anna showed me the portrait of Italy's most beautifulliving woman. She told me to look at the last of the Borgia family."
Violetta laughed out clear music. "And now you see her?"
"She said that it had saved her brother's life. It has a star and ascratch on the left cheek from a dagger. He wore it on his heart, and anassassin struck him there: a true romance. Countess Anna said to me thatit had saved one brother, and that it should help to avenge the other.She has not spoken to me of Jesuits."
"Nothing at all of the Jesuits?" said Violetta carelessly. "Perhaps shewishes to use my endeavours to get the Salaseo armistice prolonged, andtempts me, knowing I am a prodigal. Austria is victorious, you know, butshe wants peace. Is that the case? I do not press you to answer."
Adela replied hesitatingly: "Are you aware, countess, whether thereis any truth in the report that Countess Lena has a passion for CountAmmiani?"
"Ah, then," said Violetta, "Countess Lena's sister would naturally wishto prevent his contemplated marriage! We may have read the riddle atlast. Are you discreet? If you are, you will let it be known that I hadthe honour of becoming intimate with you in Turin--say, at the Court. Weshall meet frequently there during winter, I trust, if you care to makea comparison of the Italian with the Austrian and the English nobility."
An eloquent "Oh!" escaped from Adela's bosom. She had certainly notexpected to win her way with this estimable Italian titled lady thusrapidly. Violetta had managed her so well that she was no longer surewhether she did know the exact nature of her mission, the words of whichshe had faithfully transmitted as having been alone confided to her. Itwas with chagrin that she saw Pericles put his fore-finger on a salientdimple of the countess's cheek when he welcomed them. He puffed andblew like one working simultaneously at bugle and big drum on hearingan allusion to Victoria. The mention of the name of that abominabletraitress was interdicted at Villa Ricciardi, he said; she had draggedhim at two armies' tails to find his right senses at last: Pericleswas cured of his passion for her at last. He had been mad, but he wascured--and so forth, in the old strain. His preparations for a privateoperatic performance diverted him from these fierce incriminations,and he tripped busily from spot to spot, conducting the ladies over thetumbled lower floors of the spacious villa, and calling their admirationon the desolation of the scene. Then they went up to the maestro's room.Pericles became deeply considerate for the master's privacy. "He is myslave; the man has ruined himself for la Vittoria; but I respect theimpersonation of art," he said under his breath to the ladies as theystood at the door; "hark!" The piano was touched, and the voice ofIrma di Karski broke out in a shrill crescendo. Rocco Ricci within gavetongue to the vehement damnatory dance of Pericles outside. Roccostruck his piano again encouragingly for a second attempt, but Irmawas sobbing. She was heard to say: "This is the fifteenth time you havepulled me down in one morning. You hate me; you do; you hate me." Roccoran his fingers across the keys, and again struck the octave for Irma.Pericles wiped his forehead, when, impenitent and unteachable, she tookthe notes in the manner of a cock. He thumped at the door violently andentered.
"Excellent! horrid! brava! abominable! beautiful! My Irma, you havereached the skies. You ascend like a firework, and crown yourself at thetop. No more to-day; but descend at your leisure, my dear, and we willtry to mount again by-and-by, and not so fast, if you please. Ha!your voice is a racehorse. You will learn to ride him with temper andjudgement, and you will go. Not so, my Rocco? Irma, you want repose, mydear. One thing I guarantee to you--you will please the public. It is aminor thing that you should please me."
Countess d'Isorella led Irma away, and had to bear with many fits ofweeping, and to assent to the force of all the charges of vindictiveconspiracy and inveterate malice with which the jealous creatureassailed Vittoria's name. The countess then claimed her ear forhalf-a-minute.
"Have you had any news of Countess Anna lately?"
Irma had not; she admitted it despondently. "There is such a vileconspiracy against me in Italy--and Italy is a poor singer's fame--thatI should be tempted to do anything. And I detest la Vittoria. She hassuch a hold on this Antonio-Pericles, I don't see how I can hurt her,unless I meet her and fly at her throat."
"You naturally detest her," said the countess. "Repeat Countess Anna'sproposal to you."
"It was insulting--she offered me money."
"That you should persuade me to assist you in preventing la Vittoria'smarriage to Count A
mmiani?"
"Dear lady, you know I did not try to persuade you."
"You knew that you would not succeed, my Irma. But Count Ammiani willnot marry her; so you will have a right to claim some reward. I do notthink that la Vittoria is quite idle. Look out for yourself, my child.If you take to plotting, remember it is a game of two."
"If she thwarts me in one single step, I will let loose that madman onher," said Irma, trembling.
"You mean the signor Antonio-Pericles?"
"No; I mean that furious man I saw at your villa, dear countess."
"Ah! Barto Rizzo. A very furious man. He bellowed when he heard hername, I remember. You must not do it. But, for Count Ammiani's sake, Idesire to see his marriage postponed, at least."
"Where is she?" Irma inquired.
The countess shrugged. "Even though I knew, I could not prudently tellyou in your present excited state."
She went to Pericles for a loan of money. Pericles remarked that therewas not much of it in Turin. "But, countess, you whirl the gold-pieceslike dust from your wheels; and a spy, my good soul, a lovely secretemissary, she will be getting underpaid if she allows herself to wantmoney. There is your beauty; it is ripe, but it is fresh, and it isextraordinary. Yes; there is your beauty." Before she could obtaina promise of the money, Violetta had to submit to be stripped to hercharacter, which was hard; but on the other hand, Pericles exacted nointerest on his money, and it was not often that he exacted a return ofit in coin. Under these circumstances, ladies in need of money can findit in their hearts to pardon mere brutality of phrase. Periclespromised to send it to the countess on one condition; which conditionhe cancelled, saying dejectedly, "I do not care to know where she is. Iwill not know."
"She has the score of Hagar, wherever she is," said Violetta, "and whenshe hears that you have done the scene without her aid, you will havestuck a dagger in her bosom."
"Not," Pericles cried in despair, "not if she should hear Irma's Hagar!To the desert with Irma. It is the place for a crab-apple. Bravo,Abraham! you were wise."
Pericles added that Montini was hourly expected, and that there was tobe a rehearsal in the evening.
When she had driven home, Violetta found Barto Rizzo's accusatorypaper laid on her writing-desk. She gathered the contents in a carelessglance, and walked into the garden alone, to look for Carlo.
He was leaning on the balustrade of the terrace, near the water-gate,looking into the deep clear lake-water. Violetta placed herself besidehim without a greeting.
"You are watching fish for coolness, my Carlo?"
"Yes," he said, and did not turn to her face.
"You were very angry when you arrived?"
She waited for his reply.
"Why do you not speak, Carlino?"
"I am watching fish for coolness," he said.
"Meantime," said Violetta, "I am scorched."
He looked up, and led her to an arch of shade, where he sat quitesilent.
"Can anything be more vexing than this?" she was reduced to exclaim.
"Ah!" said he, "you would like the catalogue to be written out for youin a big bold hand, possibly, with a terrific initials at the end of thepage."
"Carlo, you have done worse than that. When I saw you first here, whatcrimes did you not accuse me of? what names did you not scatter on myhead? and what things did I not, confess to? I bore the unkindness,for you were beaten, and you wanted a victim. And, my dear friend,considering that I am after all a woman, my forbearance has subsequentlybeen still greater."
"How?" he asked. Her half-pathetic candour melted him.
"You must, have a lively memory for the uses of forgetfulness, Carlo,When you had scourged me well, you thought it proper to raise me up andgive me comfort. I was wicked for serving the king, and therefore thecountry, as a spy; but I was to persevere, and cancel my iniquities bybetraying those whom I served to you. That was your instructive precept.Have I done it or not? Answer, too have I done it for any payment beyondyour approbation? I persuaded you to hope for Lombardy, and without anyvaunting of my own patriotism. You have seen and spoken to the menI directed you to visit. If their heads master yours, I shall bereprobated for it, I know surely; but I am confident as yet that you canmatch them. In another month I expect to see the king over the Ticinoonce more, and Carlo in Brescia with his comrades. You try to penetratemy eyes. That's foolish; I can make them glass. Read me by what I sayand what I do. I do not entreat you to trust me; I merely beg that youwill trust your own judgement of me by what I have helped you to dohitherto. You and I, my dear boy, have had some trifling together. Admitthat another woman would have refused to surrender you as I did whenyour unruly Vittoria was at last induced to come to you from Milan. Or,another woman would have had her revenge on discovering that she hadbeen a puppet of soft eyes and a lover's quarrel with his mistress.Instead of which, I let you go. I am opposed to the marriage, it's true;and you know why."
Carlo had listened to Violetta, measuring the false and the true in thisrecapitulation of her conduct with cool accuracy until she alluded totheir personal relations. Thereat his brows darkened.
"We had I some trifling together," he said, musingly.
"Is it going to be denied in these sweeter days?" Violetta reddened.
"The phrase is elastic. Suppose my bride were to hear it?"
"It was addressed to your ears, Carlo."
"It cuts two ways. Will you tell me when it was that I last had thehappiness of saluting you, lip to lip?"
"In Brescia--before I had espoused an imbecile--two nights before mymarriage--near the fountain of the Greek girl with a pitcher."
Pride and anger nerved the reply. It was uttered in a rapid lowbreath. Coming altogether unexpectedly, it created an intense momentaryrevulsion of his feelings by conjuring up his boyish love in a scenemore living than the sunlight.
He lifted her hand to his mouth. He was Italian enough, though a lover,to feel that she deserved more. She had reddened deliciously, andtherewith hung a dewy rosy moisture on her underlids. Raising her eyes,she looked like a cut orange to a thirsty lip. He kissed her, saying,"Pardon."
"Keep it secret, you mean?" she retorted. "Yes, I pardon that wish ofyours. I can pardon much to my beauty."
She stood up as majestically as she had spoken.
"You know, my Violetta, that I am madly in love."
"I have learnt it."
"You know it:--what else would?... If I were not lost in love, could Isee you as I do and let Brescia be the final chapter?"
Violetta sighed. "I should have preferred its being so rather than thissuperfluous additional line to announce an end, like a foolish staff onthe edge of a cliff. You thought that you were saluting a leper, or asaint?"
"Neither. If ever we can talk together again, as we have done," Carlosaid gloomily, "I will tell you what I think of myself."
"No, but Richelieu might have behaved.... Ah! perhaps not quite in thesame way," she corrected her flowing apology for him. "But then, he wasa Frenchman. He could be flighty without losing his head. Dear ItalianCarlo! Yes, in the teeth of Barto Rizzo, and for the sake of thecountry, marry her at once. It will be the best thing for you; reallythe best. You want to know from me the whereabout of Barto Rizzo. He maybe in the mountain over Stresa, or in Milan. He also has thrown off myyoke, such as it was! I do assure you, Carlo, I have no command overhim: but, mind, I half doat on the wretch. No man made me desperatelyin love with myself before he saw me, when I stopped his raving in themiddle of the road with one look of my face. There was foam on his beardand round his eyes; the poor wretch took out his handkerchief, and hesobbed. I don't know how many luckless creatures he had killed on hisway; but when I took him into my carriage--king, emperor, orator onstilts, minister of police not one has flattered me as he did, by justgazing at me. Beauty can do as much as music, my Carlo."
Carlo thanked heaven that Violetta had no passion in her nature. She hadnone: merely a leaning toward evil, a light sense of shame, a desirefor money, a
nd in her heart a contempt for the principles she did notpossess, but which, apart from the intervention of other influences,could occasionally sway her actions. Friendship, or rather the shadowyrecovery of a past attachment that had been more than friendship,inclined her now and then to serve a master who failed distinctly torepresent her interests; and when she met Carlo after the close of thewar, she had really set to work in hearty kindliness to rescue him fromwhat she termed "shipwreck with that disastrous Republican crew." He hadobtained greater ascendency over her than she liked; yet she would haveforgiven it, as well as her consequent slight deviation from directallegiance to her masters in various cities, but for Carlo's commandingpersonal coolness. She who had tamed a madman by her beauty, wasoutraged, and not unnaturally, by the indifference of a former lover.
Later in the day, Laura and Vittoria, with Agostino, reached the villa;and Adela put her lips to Vittoria's ear, whispering: "Naughty! whenare you to lose your liberty to turn men's heads?" and then she heaveda sigh with Wilfrid's name. She had formed the acquaintance of Countessd'Isorella in Turin, she said, and satisfactorily repeated her lesson,but with a blush. She was little more than a shade to Vittoria, whowondered what she had to live for. After the early evening dinner, whensunlight and the colours of the sun were beyond the western mountains,they pushed out on the lake. A moon was overhead, seeming to drop loweron them as she filled with light.
Agostino and Vittoria fell upon their theme of discord, as usual--theKing of Sardinia.
"We near the vesper hour, my daughter," said Agostino; "you wouldprovoke me to argumentation in heaven itself. I am for peace. I rememberlooking down on two cats with arched backs in the solitary arena of theVerona amphitheatre. We men, my Carlo, will not, in the decay of time,so conduct ourselves."
Vittoria looked on Laura and thought of the cannon-sounding hours, whoseechoes rolled over their slaughtered hope. The sun fell, the moon shone,and the sun would rise again, but Italy lay face to earth. They had seenher together before the enemy. That recollection was a joy that stood,though the winds beat at it, and the torrents. She loved her friend'sworn eyelids and softly-shut mouth; the after-glow of battle seemed onthem; the silence of the field of carnage under heaven;--and the patientturning of Laura's eyes this way and that to speakers upon commonthings, covered the despair of her heart as with a soldier's cloak.
Laura met the tender study of Vittoria's look, and smiled.
They neared the Villa Ricciardi, and heard singing. The villa waslighted profusely, so that it made a little mock-sunset on the lake.
"Irma!" said Vittoria, astonished at the ring of a well-known voice thatshot up in firework fashion, as Pericles had said of it. Incredulous,she listened till she was sure; and then glanced hurried questions atall eyes. Violetta laughed, saying, "You have the score of Rocco Ricci'sHagar."
The boat drew under the blazing windows, and half guessing, halfhearing, Vittoria understood that Pericles was giving an entertainmenthere, and had abjured her. She was not insensible to the slight. Thisfeeling, joined to her long unsatisfied craving to sing, led her to beintolerant of Irma's style, and visibly vexed her.
Violetta whispered: "He declares that your voice is cracked: show him!Burst out with the 'Addio' of Hagar. May she not, Carlo? Don't youpermit the poor soul to sing? She cannot contain herself."
Carlo, Adela, Agostino, and Violetta prompted her, and, catching a pausein the villa, she sang the opening notes of Hagar's 'Addio' with her oldglorious fulness of tone and perfect utterance.
The first who called her name was Rocco Ricci, but Pericles was thefirst to rush out and hang over the boat. "Witch! traitress!infernal ghost! heart of ice!" and in English "humbug!" and in French"coquin!":--these were a few of the titles he poured on her. Rocco Ricciand Montini kissed hands to her, begging her to come to them. She wasvery willing outwardly, and in her heart most eager; but Carlo badethe rowers push off. Then it was pitiful to hear the shout of abjectsupplication from Pericles. He implored Count Ammiani's pardon,Vittoria's pardon, for telling her what she was; and as the boat drewfarther away, he offered her sums of money to enter the villa and singthe score of Hagar. He offered to bear the blame of her bad behaviour tohim, said he would forget it and stamp it out; that he would pay forthe provisioning of a regiment of volunteers for a whole month; thathe would present her marriage trousseau to her--yes, and let her marry."Sandra! my dear! my dear!" he cried, and stretched over the parapetspeechless, like a puppet slain.
So strongly did she comprehend the sincerity of his passion forher voice that she could or would see nothing extravagant in thisdemonstration, which excited unrestrained laughter in every key from hercompanions in the boat. When the boat was about a hundred yards from theshore, and in full moonlight, she sang the great "Addio" of Hagar. Atthe close of it, she had to feel for her lover's hand blindly. No onespoke, either at the Villa Ricciardi, or about her. Her voice possessedthe mountain-shadowed lake.
The rowers pulled lustily home through chill air.
Luigi and Beppo were at the villa, both charged with news from Milan.Beppo claiming the right to speak first, which Luigi granted with amagnificent sweep of his hand, related that Captain Weisspriess, ofthe garrison, had wounded Count Medole in a duel severely. He brought aletter to Vittoria from Merthyr, in which Merthyr urged her to preventCount Ammiani's visiting Milan for any purpose whatever, and said thathe was coming to be present at, her marriage. She was reading this whileLuigi delivered his burden; which was, that in a subsequent duel, theslaughtering captain had killed little Leone Rufo, the gay and gallantboy, Carlo's comrade, and her friend.
Luigi laughed scornfully at his rival, and had edged away--out of sightbefore he could be asked who had sent him. Beppo ignominiously confessedthat he had not heard of this second duel. At midnight he was onhorseback, bound for Milan, with a challenge to the captain from Carlo,who had a jealous fear that Luciano at Vercelli might have outstrippedhim. Carlo requested the captain to guarantee him an hour's immunity inthe city on a stated day, or to name any spot on the borders ofPiedmont for the meeting. The challenge was sent with Countess Ammiani'sapprobation and Laura's. Vittoria submitted.
That done, Carlo gave up his heart to his bride. A fight in prospect wasthe hope of wholesome work after his late indecision and doubleplay. They laughed at themselves, accused hotly, and humbly excusedthemselves, praying for mutual pardon.
She had behaved badly in disobeying his mandate from Brescia.
Yes, but had he not been over-imperious?
True; still she should have remembered her promise in the Vicentino.
She did indeed; but how could she quit her wounded friend Merthyr?
Perhaps not: then, why had she sent word to him from Milan that shewould be at Pallanza?
This question knocked at a sealed chamber. She was silent, and Carlo hadto brood over something as well. He gave her hints of his foolish pique,his wrath and bitter baffled desire for her when, coming to Pallanza, hecame to an empty house. But he could not help her to see, for he didnot himself feel, that he had been spurred by silly passions, pique, andwrath, to plunge instantly into new political intrigue; and that some ofhis worst faults had become mixed up with his devotion to his country.Had he taken Violetta for an ally in all purity of heart? The kiss hehad laid on the woman's sweet lips had shaken his absolute beliefin that. He tried to set his brain travelling backward, in order tocontemplate accurately the point of his original weakness. It beingalmost too severe a task for any young head, Carlo deemed it sufficientthat he should say--and this he felt--that he was unworthy of hisbeloved.
Could Vittoria listen to such stuff? She might have kissed him to stopthe flow of it, but kissings were rare between them; so rare, that whenthey had put mouth to mouth, a little quivering spire of flame, dim atthe base, stood to mark the spot in their memories. She moved her hand,as to throw aside such talk. Unfretful in blood, chaste and keen, she atleast knew the foolishness of the common form of lovers' trifling whenthere is a burning love t
o keep under, and Carlo saw that she did, andadored her for this highest proof of the passion of her love.
"In three days you will be mine, if I do not hear from Milan? withinfive, if I do?" he said.
Vittoria gave him the whole beauty of her face a divine minute, andbowed it assenting. Carlo then led her to his mother, before whom heembraced her for the comfort of his mother's heart. They decided thatthere should be no whisper of the marriage until the couple were one.Vittoria obtained the countess's permission to write for Merthyr toattend her at the altar. She had seen Weisspriess fall in combat, andshe had perfect faith in her lover's right hand.