A Siren

by Thomas Adolphus Trollope

  CHAPTER I

  In the Cardinal's Chapel

  Paolina was industriously pursuing her task in the chapel of theCardinal's palace. Ludovico was not so frequently with her there as hehad been while she was at work in San Vitale. But there were evidentreasons why this was necessarily the case. The chapel in question is aprivate one, and is accessible only by passing through a portion of theCardinal's residence. At San Vitale Ludovico needed to take nobody intohis confidence, when he climbed to Paolina's scaffolding to be by herside while she worked, save the old sacristan. But to have joined her ather work in the Cardinal's palace, he must have knocked at the door ofthe residence, and told the servants what he wanted.

  And that would have been obviously inconvenient, even without mentioningthe fact that the Lady Violante, to whom the gentleman ought to havebeen addressing himself, passed much of her time at the palace, andmight very possibly have been met by him there.

  It was true that, ever since the ball at the Castelmare palazzo, on thesecond day of the year, Ludovico had felt pretty nearly sure thatViolante was as desirous of escaping from the marriage which had beenarranged as he was himself. But it did not at all follow that it wouldbe an easy matter to break it off. Of course it was not to be expectedthat Violante herself could take any active step towards refusing tofulfil the promise that her family had made for her. That would be forhim to do. And except as regarded his intercourse with the lady, and herpersonal feelings, the task of doing so was hardly rendered any theeasier by the knowledge that he would be consulting her wishes as wellas his own.

  It would hardly, therefore, have done in any way for him to have beenvisiting the young artist in the Cardinal Legate's chapel.

  The intercourse, however, between Ludovico and Paolina was muchpleasanter and more unrestrained than it had been before thatexplanation, which had ensued between them. He was a frequent visitor atthe house in the Via di Sta. Eufemia in the evening; and the happy hourswere passed by them on the perfectly understood footing of mutualbetrothal.

  And Ludovico was perfectly honest and sincere in all that he said toPaolina. He said nothing to her that he did not equally say to himself.And if his conduct under the circumstances was not exactly what a fatheror brother of Paolina might have desired it to be, the fault arose fromthe indecision of character, which belonged to a weak man accustomed toself-indulgence. There was difficulty and annoyance before him; andinstead of meeting it, as a strong man would have done, he turned fromit, and was content to put off the evil day, contenting himself with theenjoyment of that which was passing. He marvelled somewhat at the ease,with which he was permitted to pass evening after evening with hismistress,--at the absence of surveillance, of which he wasconscious,--and at the silence of his uncle as to both his visits to Viadi Sta. Eufemia, and his no visits to the Lady Violante. But he troubledhimself little to account for this, or to question the reason of thegoods the gods provided him. It was not in his character to do so.Paolina, on her side, was, upon the whole, trustful and contented. Yetthere had been moments at which she had suffered a passing pang fromlittle gossipings which had been, perhaps injudiciously, repeated to herby Orsola Steno. Of course the great prima donna, the celebrated Lalli,who was blessing Ravenna by her presence, was often talked of in the Viadi Sta. Eufemia, as she was in every other house in the city. That wasquite a matter of course. And then Orsola would speak of the strictconduct of the lady; of the fact that no one of the young nobles of theplace was permitted to visit her--except, indeed, the young MarcheseLudovico; and how people did say that half-a-dozen would be safercompany than one; and that the young Marchese was finishing the sowingof his wild oats before becoming a married man by a flirtation with oneof the most celebrated beauties of Italy.

  There was very little cause for this gossip beyond what the reader isaware of. Still, upon the whole, it might have been better if Ludovicohad seen less of the fascinating singer. He had given cause enough forspiteful tongues to make mischief if they could do so; and it mayprobably be supposed that he was not insensible to the fascinations ofBianca--perhaps not to the glory of the fact that he was the only youngman admitted to her society, and that he had occasionally done thatwhich, being repeated, might not unnaturally give umbrage to Paolina.

  It was now within ten days or so of the end of Carnival; and, whilealmost everybody else was amusing themselves in some way or other,Paolina stuck close to her work in the chapel, intent on her silent andsolitary task, while, from time to time, the voices of revellers in thestreets would reach her in her seclusion.

  But all her hours of work there had not passed in utter solitude.

  The Contessa Violante was in the habit of spending much of her time inthe palace of her great-uncle the Cardinal Legate. It presented, amongother advantages, that of being pretty well the only place in which shecould escape for awhile from the companionship of the Signora AssuntaFagiani, her duenna. Certainly, it would not have been consistent withthat lady's conception of her duty to allow her charge to visit anyother house whatever in the city, without the protection of hercompanionship, but the palace of a Cardinal Legate--and that Legate hergreat-uncle. Besides that, her great-aunt, the Cardinal's sister, wasalso often at her brother's residence; and, having this facility closeat hand, Violante was wont very frequently to avail herself of theprivacy, comfort, and warmth of her uncle's chapel for the morning'sdevotions, which she never missed.

  One morning she found a small portable scaffold or estrade of dealsstanding in one corner of the chapel; and, on inquiring for what purposeit had been placed there, she was told that it was to enable an artistto make a copy of some of the mosaics on the vault of the littleapartment. She learned further that the artist in question was a youngVenetian lady: that she was a protegee of the Marchese Lamberto; andthat the permission to execute the copies in question, and to have thatscaffolding placed there, had been obtained by him.

  Then Violante knew right well who the Venetian artist was. The worthyAssunta Fagiani had taken care that all the gossip of Ravenna whichconnected this girl's name with that of Ludovico di Castelmare shouldreach her ears. And she was glad of the easy opportunity which thusoffered itself to her of gratifying her natural curiosity respecting thestranger--the girl who could win that love which had been promised toher; but which she had been unable to inspire.

  This Paolina Foscarelli--she well knew her name--was, in some sense, herrival. Ludovico di Castelmare was bidden to love her, the ContessaViolante, and instead of doing so, had given his love, as she had beenassured, to this Venetian. She knew, indeed, quite well that had thestranger never come near Ravenna, Ludovico would not have loved her themore. She did not love Ludovico. She was anxious to be quit of theengagement it had been proposed to make between them; and it might bevery likely that this girl might be serviceable to her, rather thanotherwise, in helping to bring about such a consummation.

  Nevertheless, there was a certain amount of bitterness--such bitterness,more akin to self-depreciation, as could find place in the gentle heartof Violante--in the thought of what might have been; in the thought thatshe was irrevocably excluded from that which it had been so easy forthis poor stranger artist to attain; and, above all, there was a strongcuriosity to see the beauty which had accomplished this; to hear thevoice which had been able to charm; and, further, in her own interest,to ascertain, if that should be possible, whether the tie which she hadbeen told existed between this girl and the man who had been assigned toher for a husband, was, or was not, of a nature likely to lead to amarriage between them.

  At first sight this would have seemed impossible to the aristocraticnotions of the Cardinal Legate's niece. But Assunta Fagiani, whoseobject had been simply to convince Violante that no union betweenherself and Ludovico would ever take place, despite all appearances tothe contrary, had given her to understand that it was whispered as athing not impossible--such was Ludovico's infatuation--that he mighteven go the length of making such an alliance.

  One morning, soon after the c
ommencement of her work in the chapel,whither she had been escorted on her first going thither by the MarcheseLamberto himself in person, in accordance with his promise, Violante, onentering the chapel, saw that the little scaffold had been pulled outfrom its corner and placed immediately under one of the medallionportraits of the Apostles, on the vault of the building. She looked up,and perceiving the artist above her at her work, paused, hesitatingbefore kneeling at the footstool in front of the altar.

  In an instant a light step tripped down the steps of the woodenerection, and a little figure, clad in a brown holland frock, whichwrapped it from head to foot, stood by her side.

  Paolina knew very well who the lady that had entered the chapel was:and, as may be easily imagined, she too was not without her share ofcuriosity.

  "Do I disturb you, Signorina?" said Paolina, in a sweet, gentle voice."If you would prefer it, I will wait till you have finished your prayer.I can kneel here too the while."

  Violante looked at the girlish face, bright not only with the elementsof material beauty, but with the animation of intelligence and theinforming expression of talent. One would have said that nothing couldwell be less becoming than such a long shapeless wrapper as that whichthe artist wore. There was the band at the waist, which showed that thefigure was slight and slender; but, for the rest, a less ornamentalcostume could not well be imagined. Nevertheless, Violante perfectlywell perceived and understood at a glance that this girl had what shehad not--a something by virtue of which it was possible for her to win aman's love, while for herself it was, or seemed to her appreciation ofherself, impossible.

  "Oh, no, Signorina," answered Violante, gently, "the knowledge that youwere painting up there would not suffice to distract my thoughts. Butwill you not let me look at your work? It must be very difficult to copythese strange old wall-paintings. May I climb up? I know your friend theMarchese Lamberto well. Do you know who I am?"

  "Pray, come up, Signorina, if you have any curiosity. Oh, yes, I knowyour ladyship. I saw you once in the Cardinal's carriage. You are hisniece, the Contessa Violante," replied Paolina, blushing a little at thename of the Marchese Lamberto, only because, though assuredly not therose, he lived close to it.

  So the two girls climbed the steps of the estrade together.

  "How came you to know the Marchese Lamberto?" asked Violante, after theyhad matured their acquaintanceship by a little talk about the subject ofPaolina's work.

  "Only because the Englishman, who employed me to copy these mosaics,gave me a letter to him. He seems to be very highly esteemed."

  "More so than any other man in all Ravenna,--except my uncle theCardinal, I suppose I ought to say; he is a most excellent man in allways. But you know his nephew also, the Marchese Ludovico? non e vero?"said Violante, looking down on the ground, while a pale blush came overher white cheeks.

  "Yes," replied Paolina, flushing crimson, and similarly looking down,but stealing a side-glance under her eyelashes at her companion,--"yes;I became acquainted with him also in the same manner--at least, on thesame occasion; and, in truth, I have seen more of him than of his uncle,for the Marchese Lamberto is always so busy, and he commissioned hisnephew to do all that he could to assist us, when we were first settlingourselves here."

  "And you found him kind, too; as kind as his uncle?" said Violante,stealing a sidelong glance at Paolina.

  "Yes, indeed, Signorina," said she, feeling not a little embarrassment.

  "Paolina--you see I know your name, and I think it such a prettyone--Paolina," said the Contessa Violante, yielding to a sudden impulse,and taking the hand of the blushing girl, who kept her eyes fixed on theground, "shall we be friends, and speak openly to each other? I shouldlike to."

  "Oh, Signorina! so should I, so much. There is nothing I should like somuch--almost nothing," replied Paolina, looking up into her face, withher own still crimson.

  "Tell me, then, if you ever heard my name mentioned in connection withthat of the Marchese Ludovico?" said Violante, looking with a rather sadand subdued, but yet arch, smile into Paolina's eyes.

  "Yes, Signorina, I have so heard," said Paolina, raising her head with aproud movement, and looking, with well-opened eyes and clear brow, intoViolante's face as she spoke. "I have heard that it was intended by bothyour families that you and the Marchese Ludovico should be married."

  "Yes; everybody in Ravenna, I believe, expects to see such a marriagebefore long; do you? We are to be friends, you know, and speak franklyto each other; do you expect it, Paolina?" asked Violante, still holdingher hand, and looking with a smile, half shrewd, half sad, into herface.

  Paolina remained silent a minute or two, again dropping her clear honesteyes to the ground. Then raising them again, she said in an almostwhispered voice, but looking straight at her companion,

  "No, Signorina, I do not expect that; for he has promised to marry me."

  "Ah--h! it is a relief to hear you say so. My dear Paolina, I am soglad," said the elder girl, putting a hand on each of Paolina'sshoulders, and kissing her on the forehead--"I am so glad; much for yourown sake, somewhat, too, for his, and much for my own sake. For,Paolina, I could not marry Ludovico. If he asked me to do so, it wouldbe only done in obedience to the will of his uncle. He does not--no,'tis no fault of yours, my child--never has loved me."

  "Signora, when first I--allowed him to teach me to love him, I knewnothing of any duty that he owed elsewhere. And when I did know it Idetermined, even if it should break my heart, to refuse any such love asshould have been stolen from a wife," said Paolina.

  "That was the part of a good and honest girl. And for me, I have tothank you for it. Paolina, I hope you may be happy. We shall often meethere, shall we not?"

  "Not often here, Signora. My task here is not a long one; and I hope bythe end of Carnival to have finished it, so that I may go to St.Apollinare, outside the town, where I have to make several copies. It isvery desirable not to go there later; because when the warm weathercomes it becomes so unhealthy there."

  "Yes; but we have some days yet before the end of the Carnival; and tillthen you will be at work every day here?"

  "Si, Signora; I hope so."

  "Then I hope we shall have several more opportunities of seeing eachother. And now I must not keep you from your work any longer. Shall webe friends?"

  "Oh, Signorina; it is too good of you to ask me, a poor artist. Andwhen--it would be my greatest pride to have such a friend."

  And then the girls kissed and parted: Violante to kneel for her dailydevotions, at the footstool before the altar; and Paolina to continueher copying. And after that they had frequent meetings in the littlechapel, and learned to become fast friends.

  The Carnival was now drawing near its end; and the city had beenpromised that before the time of cakes and ale should be over, and thatof sackcloth and ashes should begin, the divine prima donna shouldappear in one more new part. And, after much deliberation and debate, ithad been decided that this should be Bellini's masterpiece, LaSonnambula. She was to sing it on one night only--the last Sunday of theCarnival; and the attraction on that night was proportionably great. TheSonnambula, then in the first blush of its immense popularity, had neveryet been heard in Ravenna. It was one of the favourite parts of theDiva; and all the city was on the tiptoe of expectation.

  It was a matter of course that all the "society" would be there. Theentire first row of the boxes,--the "piano nobile," as it is called inItalian theatres,--was the private property of the various noblefamilies of the city, which each had its box, with its coat of arms dulyemblazoned on the door thereof, in that tier. Nobody who did not belongto "the society" of the town could in any way show his intruding face inthe "piano nobile." But above this sacred hemicycle there was anotherrange of boxes; equally private boxes; as all the boxes of an Italiantheatre are;--and the key of one of these upper "loggie" had beensecured by Ludovico, and presented to Signora Orsola and Paolina for thegreat evening.

  Of course he himself would be obliged to be in
his proper place in theCastelmare box, which was the stage box on the left hand of the stage.

  "Whether I may be able to run up and pay you a little visit in thecourse of the evening, I don't know. You may be very sure I shall if Ican; but there will be all the world there, of course, and lo zio in thebox--unless, indeed, he should choose to go behind the scenes. Talkingof that," he added, as he was on the point of leaving the room, "I don'tknow what to make of lo zio of late."

  "Has he said anything?"

  "Not a word; but I don't like the look of him. He never was more amiableas far as I am concerned; but he is not well; I never saw him as he isnow. He is haggard, feverish, restless; an older man in appearance by adozen years than he was at the beginning of Carnival."

  "I suppose he has been raking too much, and wants a little rest. Lentwill be good for him."

  "What, he! The Marchese Lamberto raking! You don't know him. But heseems quite broken down; I should say, that he had got something on hismind, if it was not impossible. He never had any trouble in his life;and never did anything he ought not to do, I believe. But I confess hepuzzles me now. Good-night. God bless you, Paolina mia!"

  That was on the Friday; and the Diva's last appearance was to take placeon the following Sunday.