massimilla doni-第7章

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Anywhere　else　she　might　have　been　tiresome。　The　Italians；　an　eminently
intelligent　race；　have　no　fancy　for　displaying　their　talents　where
they　are　not　in　demand；　their　chat　is　perfectly　simple　and　effortless；
it　never　makes　play；　as　in　France；　under　the　lead　of　a　fencing　master；
each　one　flourishing　his　foil；　or；　if　he　has　nothing　to　say；　sitting
humiliated。

Conversation　sparkles　with　a　delicate　and　subtle　satire　that　plays
gracefully　with　familiar　facts；　and　instead　of　a　compromising　epigram
an　Italian　has　a　glance　or　a　smile　of　unutterable　meaning。　They　think
and　they　are　rightthat　to　be　expected　to　understand　ideas　when
they　only　seek　enjoyment；　is　a　bore。

Indeed；　la　Vulpato　had　said　to　Massimilla：

〃If　you　loved　him　you　would　not　talk　so　well。〃

Emilio　took　no　part　in　the　conversation；　he　listened　and　gazed。　This
reserve　might　have　led　foreigners　to　suppose　that　the　Prince　was　a　man
of　no　intelligence；their　impression　very　commonly　of　an　Italian　in
love；whereas　he　was　simply　a　lover　up　to　his　ears　in　rapture。
Vendramin　sat　down　by　Emilio；　opposite　the　Frenchman；　who；　as　the
stranger；　occupied　the　corner　facing　the　Duchess。

〃Is　that　gentleman　drunk？〃　said　the　physician　in　an　undertone　to
Massimilla；　after　looking　at　Vendramin。

〃Yes；〃　replied　she；　simply。

In　that　land　of　passion；　each　passion　bears　its　excuse　in　itself；　and
gracious　indulgence　is　shown　to　every　form　of　error。　The　Duchess
sighed　deeply；　and　an　expression　of　suppressed　pain　passed　over　her
features。

〃You　will　see　strange　things　in　our　country；　monsieur；〃　she　went　on。
〃Vendramin　lives　on　opium；　as　this　one　lives　on　love；　and　that　one
buries　himself　in　learning；　most　young　men　have　a　passion　for　a
dancer；　as　older　men　are　miserly。　We　all　create　some　happiness　or　some
madness　for　ourselves。〃

〃Because　you　all　want　to　divert　your　minds　from　some　fixed　idea；　for
which　a　revolution　would　be　a　radical　cure；〃　replied　the　physician。
〃The　Genoese　regrets　his　republic；　the　Milanese　pines　for　his
independence；　the　Piemontese　longs　for　a　constitutional　government；
the　Romagna　cries　for　liberty〃

〃Of　which　it　knows　nothing；〃　interrupted　the　Duchess。　〃Alas！　there　are
men　in　Italy　so　stupid　as　to　long　for　your　idiotic　Charter；　which
destroys　the　influence　of　woman。　Most　of　my　fellow…countrywomen　must
need　read　your　French　booksuseless　rhodomontade〃

〃Useless！〃　cried　the　Frenchman。

〃Why；　monsieur；〃　the　Duchess　went　on；　〃what　can　you　find　in　a　book
that　is　better　than　what　we　have　in　our　hearts？　Italy　is　mad。〃

〃I　cannot　see　that　a　people　is　mad　because　it　wishes　to　be　its　own
master；〃　said　the　physician。

〃Good　Heavens！〃　exclaimed　the　Duchess；　eagerly；　〃does　not　that　mean
paying　with　a　great　deal　of　bloodshed　for　the　right　of　quarreling；　as
you　do；　over　crazy　ideas？〃

〃Then　you　approve　of　despotism？〃　said　the　physician。

〃Why　should　I　not　approve　of　a　system　of　government　which；　by
depriving　us　of　books　and　odious　politics；　leaves　men　entirely　to　us？〃

〃I　had　thought　that　the　Italians　were　more　patriotic；〃　said　the
Frenchman。

Massimilla　laughed　so　slyly　that　her　interlocutor　could　not
distinguish　mockery　from　serious　meaning；　nor　her　real　opinion　from
ironical　criticism。

〃Then　you　are　not　a　liberal？〃　said　he。

〃Heaven　preserve　me！〃　said　she。　〃I　can　imagine　nothing　in　worse　taste
than　such　opinions　in　a　woman。　Could　you　love　a　woman　whose　heart　was
occupied　by　all　mankind？〃

〃Those　who　love　are　naturally　aristocrats；〃　the　Austrian　General
observed；　with　a　smile。

〃As　I　came　into　the　theatre；〃　the　Frenchman　observed；　〃you　were　the
first　person　I　saw；　and　I　remarked　to　his　Excellency　that　if　there　was
a　woman　who　could　personify　a　nation　it　was　you。　But　I　grieve　to
discover　that；　though　you　represent　its　divine　beauty；　you　have　not
the　constitutional　spirit。〃

〃Are　you　not　bound；〃　said　the　Duchess；　pointing　to　the　ballet　now
being　danced；　〃to　find　all　our　dancers　detestable　and　our　singers
atrocious？　Paris　and　London　rob　us　of　all　our　leading　stars。　Paris
passes　judgment　on　them；　and　London　pays　them。　Genovese　and　la　Tinti
will　not　be　left　to　us　for　six　months〃

At　this　juncture；　the　Austrian　left　the　box。　Vendramin；　the　Prince；
and　the　other　two　Italians　exchanged　a　look　and　a　smile；　glancing　at
the　French　physician。　He；　for　a　moment；　felt　doubtful　of　himself；a
rare　thing　in　a　Frenchman；fancying　he　had　said　or　done　something
incongruous；　but　the　riddle　was　immediately　solved。

〃Do　you　thing　it　would　be　judicious；〃　said　Emilio；　〃if　we　spoke　our
mind　in　the　presence　of　our　masters？〃

〃You　are　in　a　land　of　slaves；〃　said　the　Duchess；　in　a　tone　and　with　a
droop　of　the　head　which　gave　her　at　once　the　look　for　which　the
physician　had　sought　in　vain。　〃Vendramin；〃　she　went　on；　speaking　so
that　only　the　stranger　could　hear　her；　〃took　to　smoking　opium；　a
villainous　idea　suggested　to　him　by　an　Englishman　who；　for　other
reasons　of　his；　craved　an　easy　deathnot　death　as　men　see　it　in　the
form　of　a　skeleton；　but　death　draped　with　the　frippery　you　in　France
call　a　flaga　maiden　form　crowned　with　flowers　or　laurels；　she
appears　in　a　cloud　of　gunpowder　borne　on　the　flight　of　a　cannon…ball
or　else　stretched　on　a　bed　between　two　courtesans；　or　again；　she　rises
in　the　steam　of　a　bowl　of　punch；　or　the　dazzling　vapor　of　a　diamond
but　a　diamond　in　the　form　of　carbon。

〃Whenever　Vendramin　chooses；　for　three　Austrian　lire；　he　can　be　a
Venetian　Captain；　he　can　sail　in　the　galleys　of　the　Republic；　and
conquer　the　gilded　domes　of　Constantinople。　Then　he　can　lounge　on　the
divans　in　the　Seraglio　among　the　Sultan's　wives；　while　the　Grand
Signor　himself　is　the　slave　of　the　Venetian　conqueror。　He　returns　to
restore　his　palazzo　with　the　spoils　of　the　Ottoman　Empire。　He　can　quit
the　women　of　the　East　for　the　doubly　masked　intrigues　of　his　beloved
Venetians；　and　fancy　that　he　dreads　the　jealousy　which　has　ceased　to
exist。

〃For　three　zwanziger　he　can　transport　himself　into　the　Council　of　Ten；
can　wield　there　terrible　power；　and　leave　the　Doges'　Palace　to　sleep
under　the　watch　of　a　pair　of　flashing　eyes；　or　to　climb　a　balcony　from
which　a　fair　hand　has　hung　a　silken　ladder。　He　can　love　a　woman　to
whom　opium　lends　such　poetic　grace　as　we　women　of　flesh　and　blood
could　never　show。

〃Presently　he　turns　over；　and　he　is　face　to　face　with　the　dreadful
frown　of　the　senator；　who　holds　a　dagger。　He　hears　the　blade　plunged
into　his　mistress'　heart。　She　dies　smiling　on　him；　for　she　has　saved
him。

〃And　she　is　a　happy　woman！〃　added　the　Duchess；　looking　at　Emilio。

〃He　escapes　and　flies　to　command　the　Dalmatians；　to　conquer　the
Illyrian　coast　for　his　beloved　Venice。　His　glory　wins　him　forgiveness；
and　he　enjoys　a　life　of　domestic　happiness；a　home；　a　winter　evening；
a　young　wife　and　charming　children；　who　pray　to　San　Marco　under　the
care　of　an　old　nurse。　Yes；　for　three　francs'　worth　of　opium　he
furnishes　our　empty　arsenal；　he　watches　convoys　of　merchandise　coming
in；　going　to　the　four　quarters　of　the　world。　The　forces　of　modern
industry　no　longer　reign　in　London；　but　in　his　own　Venice；　where　the
hanging　gardens　of　Semiramis；　the　Temple　of　Jerusalem；　the　marvels　of
Rome；　live　once　more。　He　adds　to　the　glories　of　the　middle　ages　by　the
labors　of　steam；　by　new　masterpieces　of　art　under　the　protection　of
Venice；　who　protected　it　of　old。　Monuments　and　nations　crowd　into　his
little　brain；　there　is　room　for　them　all。　Empires　and　cities　and
revolutions　come　and　vanish　in　the　course　of　a　few　hours；　while　Venice
alone　expands　and　lives；　for　the　Venice　of　his　dreams　is　the　empress
of　the　seas。　She　has　two　millions　of　inhabitants；　the　sceptre　of
Italy；　the　mastery　of　the　Mediterranean　and　the　Indies！〃

〃What　an　opera　is　the　brain　of　man！　What　an　unfathomed　abyss！even　to
those　who；　like　Gall；　have　mapped　it　out；〃　cried　the　physician。

〃Dear　Duchess；〃　said　Vendramin；　〃do　not　omit　the　last　service　that　my
elixir　will　do　me。　After　hearing　ravishing　voices　and　imbibing　music
through　every　pore；　after　experiencing　the　keenest　pleasures　and　the
fiercest　delights　of　Mahomet's　paradise；　I　see　none　but　the　most
terrible　images。　I　have　visions　of　my　beloved　Venice　full　of
children's　faces；　distorted；　like　those　of　the　dying；　of　women　covered
with　dreadful　wounds；　torn　and　wailing；　of　men　mangled　and　crushed　by
the　copper　sides　of　crashing　vessels。　I　begin　to　see　Venice　as　she　is；
shrouded　in　crape；　stripped；　robbed；　destitute。　Pale　phantoms　wander
through　her　streets！

〃Already　the　Austrian　soldiers　are　grinning　over　me；　already　my
visionary　life　is　drifting　into　real　life；　whereas　six　months　ago　real
life　was　the　bad　dream；　and　the　life　of　opium　held　love　and　bliss；
important　affairs　and　political　interests。　Alas！　To　my　grief；　I　see
the　dawn　over　my　tomb；　where　truth　and　falsehood　mingle　in　a　dubious
light；　which　is　neither　day　nor　darkness；　but　partakes　of　both。〃

〃So　you　see　that　in　this　head　there　is　too　much　patriotism；〃　said　the
Prince；　laying　his　hand　on　the　thick　black　curls　that　fell　on
Vendramin's　brow。

〃Oh；　if　he　loves　us　he　will　give　up　his　dreadful　opium！〃　said
Massimilla。

〃I　will　cure　your　friend；〃　said　the　Frenchman。

〃Achieve　that；　and　we　shall　love　you；〃　said　the　Duchess。　〃But　if　on
your　return　to　France　you　do　not　calumniate　us；　we　shall　love　you　even
better。　The　hapless　Italians　are　too　much　crushed　by　foreign　dominion
to　be　fairly　judgedfor　we　have　known　yours；〃　she　added；　with　a
smile。

〃It　was　more　generous　than　Austria's；〃　said　the　physician；　eagerly。

〃Austria　squeezes　and　gives　us　nothing　back；　and　you　squeeze　to
enlarge　and　beautify　our　towns；　you　stimulated　us　by　giving　us　an
army。　You　thought　you　could　keep　Italy；　and　they　expect　to　lose　it
there　lies　the　difference。

〃The　Austrians　provide　us　with　a　sort　of　ease　that　is　as　stultifying
and　heavy　as　themselves；　while　you　overwhelmed　us　by　your　devouring
energy。　But　whether　we　die　of　tonics　or　of　narcotics；　what　does　it
matter？　It　is　death　all　the　same；　Monsieur　le　docteur。〃

〃Unhappy　Italy！　In　my　eyes　she　is　like　a　beautiful　woman　whom　France
ought　to　protect　by　making　her　his　mistress；〃　exclaimed　the　Frenchman。

〃But　you　could　not　love　us　as　we　wish　to　be　loved；〃　said　the　Duchess；
smiling。　〃We　want　to　be　free。　But　the　liberty　I　crave　is　not　your
ignoble　and　middle…class　liberalism；　which　would　kill　all　art。　I　ask；〃
said　she；　in　a　tone　that　thrilled　through　the　box；〃that　is　to　say；　I
would　ask；that　each　Italian　republic　should　be　resuscitated；　with
its　nobles；　its　citizens；　its　special　privileges　for　each　caste。　I
would　have　the　old　aristocratic　republics　once　more　with　their
intestine　warfare　and　rivalry　that　gave　birth　to　the　noblest　works　of
art；　that　created　politics；　that　raised　up　the　great　princely　houses。
By　extending　the　action　of　one　government　over　a　vast　expanse　of
country　it　is　frittered　down。　The　Italian　republics　were　the　glory　of
Europe　in　the　middle　ages。　Why　has　Italy　succumbed　when　the　Swiss；　who
were　her　porters；　have　triumphed？〃

〃The　Swiss　republics；〃　said　the　doctor；　〃were　worthy　housewives；　busy
with　their　own　little　concerns；　and　neither　having　any　cause　for
envying　another。　Your　republics　were　haughty　queens；　preferring　to
sell　themsel