CHAPTER III
"La Sonnambula"
It may be easily imagined that the Marchese returned from the Corso verylittle disposed to take any pleasure in the treat to which all Ravennawas looking forward, and which he would have enjoyed more than any oneelse under other circumstances--the performance at the theatre on thatSunday evening. Nevertheless, the duty of attending it had to be done.All Ravenna would have been astonished, and have wanted to "know thereason why," if the Marchese had been absent from his box on such anevening. "Society" expected it of him that he should be there, and hehad been all his life doing everything that "society" expected of him;besides, his presence there really was needed, and poor little ErcoleStadione would have despaired inconsolably if he had been deprived, onsuch an occasion, of the support of his great friend and patron.
But if none of these reasons had existed--if the Marchese, when hereached the shelter of his own roof after that horrible Corso, had beenentirely free to go to bed and escape the necessity of facing the eyesof all the world of Ravenna, which seemed to him to be from hour to hourgrowing into a more terrible ordeal, would he have gone to bed andabstained from attending the theatre?
It might have been very confidently predicted that he would not havedone so. He began, in an unreasoning animal-like sort of way, torecognize the fact that every hour that he spent away from this womanwas bare, barren, and of no value to him at all. He was conscious thathe could be said to live only in her presence. He was beginning to givehimself up as a lost man, and to acquiesce, half-stunned and stupid, ina fatality which he could not struggle against.
And now he was longing--burning not only to have his eyes on her again,but to speak to her. He would have plenty, of opportunities of doing soat the theatre in the green-room, or in her dressing-room, and everyminute seemed to him an age till he could find such an opportunity.
If he had been asked at that minute--if he had himself asked of his ownmind--what he meant to do--to what future he was looking, whether hemeant to marry La Lalli or to give her up, he would probably haverepudiated either alternative with equal violence. His mind was in astate of chaos; and what was to come in any future, except the mostimmediate one, he had become incapable of considering. Now he was goingto see, to hear, to breathe the same atmosphere with her again, and togo through the wretched task of striving to behave as usual, and look asusual in the eyes of all Ravenna.
The performance was to commence at half-past eight o'clock, and theMarchese, reaching the theatre nearly half-an-boar before that time,found Bianca sufficiently nearly dressed for him to be admitted to herdressing-room. She was putting the finishing touches to the platting ofher magnificent hair, after the fashion of a Swiss village-girl, for thecompletion of her toilette as Amina. He thought that, in this newcostume, she looked more irresistibly attractive than he had yet seenher.
"Bianca," he said, as soon as her dresser had left her, and shut thedoor, "you have made me so miserable to-day. I must tell you openly atonce what is in my heart. I saw, to-day, at the Corso--by no meansintending to look at all at your carriage after it had passed mine--Isaw my poor flowers thrown away by you, while you were throwing abouquet to my nephew and receiving from him something thrown in return.Bianca, is that the conduct of a woman who has the very same morningaccepted the hand of another man? Bianca, I warn you to beware; you donot know what such a love as mine, if it should discover itself to bebetrayed, might be capable of."
"Marchese, do not look at me in that way; you frighten me, and what haveI done? It is all a mistake, entirely a mistake!" said the poor Diva,really frightened at the manner of the Marchese.
"Did I not see you throw the flowers I had given you from your carriage;evidently for the purpose of gratifying another person?"
"Oh, Marchese! how is it possible that such a thought should enter intoyour head? Ah, how little you know. If you knew how I had grieved overthe loss of the beautiful bouquet that had come from your hand! It fellfrom the carriage by accident; and it was snatched up, and a boy ran offwith it, all in a moment; I would have given anything to get it backagain."
"But how came the accident? It was caused by your leaning out of yourcarriage to throw a bouquet yourself."
"Yes, exactly so; to the Marchese Ludovico. He was the only person towhom I threw a bouquet in all the Corso."
"And why should you throw one to him?"
"To him,--to your nephew? Why not, I should not have thought of doing soto another. But to him--"
"And what was it, pray, that he threw to you? I wonder whether hethought, too, that he should not dream of throwing anything to anybodyexcept you."
"The Marchese Ludovico threw nothing to me. Just at the same moment thattroublesome idiot, the Conte Leandro, threw a packet into the carriage.I have not even opened it; you may have it unopened the next time youare in the Strada di Porta Sisi, if you like. No doubt it contains someof his charming verses. It is not kind of you, Signor Marchese, to saysuch things, or to have such thoughts in your head!" said Bianca,turning away her face and putting her handkerchief to her eyes. "Andnow," she added, "you have made my eyes all red just before I have to goon the stage!"
Of course once again the unhappy Marchese was entirely routed, and theDiva was victorious. "Forgive me, Bianca,", he whispered; "I think onlyof you from the morning to the evening, and from the evening to themorning again. And it would be impossible for any man to love, as I loveyou, without a liability to jealousy. I am jealous of your love,Bianca!"
"But it is wonderful that you should not perceive how little cause youhave for any such feeling. Oh, Marchese, how can you doubt me? Surelyyou must have seen and known how entirely my love is yours. You must notwring your poor Bianca's heart by such cruel suspicions."
And then the three knocks, which announced the raising of the curtain,were heard; and the Marchese again murmuring a request to be forgiven,as he kissed her hand, hurried away to take his place in his box.
The house was already nearly full, for the occasion was a notable one;and the opera was new to Ravenna; and everybody wished to hear everynote of it. The Marchese Ludovico was not, however, in the Castelmarebox, when his uncle reached it, but he came in a minute afterwards. Hehad been up to the upper tier of boxes to say a word to Paolina and herold friend, who were in the box he had provided for them, which was onthe opposite side of the house to the Castelmare box; and exactly overthat in the "piano nobile" in which were the Marchesa Anna Lanfredi, andher niece the Contessa Violante.
There was a little noise in the house of people not yet seated duringthe opening chorus of villagers; but when the prima donna came on thestage as Amina, after the prolonged and repeated rounds of applause,which greeted her appearance, had subsided, a pin's fall might have beenheard in the theatre.
The Marchese Ludovico had joined cordially and boisterously, and theMarchese Lamberto more moderately, in the applause which had saluted theentrance of the Diva; and after that the latter had placed himself inthe corner of the box, with his back to the audience, and his facetowards the stage, and with an opera-glass at his eyes, he sat perfectlystill, feeding his passion with every glance, every change of feature,and every movement of the woman who had enthralled him.
Then came the famous song of Amina, the happy village-bride about to bemarried on the morrow to her lover--the tenor of course. The Diva sangit admirably, and acted it equally well. The purest girlish innocencewas expressed in every trait of her features and manifested itself inevery gesture and every movement. The perfect, trusting, happy love of afresh and innocent heart could have had no better representative.
The recitative, "Care compagne," etc, addressed to the assembledvillagers, fell from her lips with a purity of enunciation that madeeach syllable seem like a note from a silver bell. And then the air,"Come per me sereno," held the house entranced till the final note ofit. And then burst forth such a frantic shout of applause and delight ascan be heard only in an Italian theatre.
Ludovico leant far out of the stage
-box in which he sat, and joinedvociferously in the plaudits with both hand and voice. But the Marcheseremained quiet in his corner, with his face half-shaded by his hand,conscious as he was that the expression of it might need hiding from theothers in the box. He need not have heeded them; for their attention wastoo exclusively occupied with the stage for them to expend any of it onhim. Had it been otherwise his hand, covering the lower half of hisface, would not have sufficed to conceal his emotion.
Now again the hot fit of his love was in the ascendant. Never had Biancamore thoroughly captivated him. Never had it seemed to him less possibleto live without her. What to him were all these dull and emptyblockheads for whom he had hitherto lived, and who were now--the foulfiend seize them!--sharing with him the delight of seeing and hearingher for the last time. Yes, it should be for the last time. He wouldmake her his, all his own; and carry her far away from all that couldremind either her or himself of their past lives. And then a scowl ofdispleasure came over his face as his glance lighted on his nephew'snoisy and unrestrained manifestations of enthusiastic admiration.
Presently, towards the end of the first act, came the duet between Aminaand her lover, who has been made causelessly jealous, and Bianca sangthe pretty lines--
"Son, mio bene, del zeffiro amante, Perche ad esso il tuo nome confido. Amo il sol, perche teco il divido, Amo il rio, perche l'onda ti da,"
with a sweetness of expression perfectly irresistible. The Marchese inhis corner, half-shrouded from the observation of the house by thecurtain, which, though undrawn, hung down by the side of the box, butfully facing the stage, was perfectly aware that the singer hadspecially addressed herself to him; and he felt the full force of theloving rebuke for the unreasonable displeasure he had so recentlymanifested in her dressing-room. His heart went out towards her; and hefelt that if it were to be done that moment, he could have led her tothe altar in the face of all Christendom.
At the end of the act the plaudits were again vociferous, and four timeswas the smiling and triumphant Diva compelled by the calls and clamourof her worshippers to return before the curtain to receive theirapplause and salute them in return for it. The Marchese Ludovico againloudly and enthusiastically joined in these manifestations; and then,when they were over, and the noise in the house had subsided, he quietlyslipped out of the box, and springing up the stairs which communicatedwith the upper tier of boxes, entered that occupied by Paolina and theSignora Orsola Steno.
"What did you think of that, Paolina mia?" he said, sitting down by herside, and making the action of applauding with his hands, as he spoke."Did you ever hear a thing more charmingly sung? Is she not divine?"
"There is no mistaking your opinion on the point, at all events, amicomio. I never saw anybody manifest such unbounded admiration as you didjust now. But the Diva was not thinking of you, I can tell you," saidPaolina, with just the slightest possible flavour of pique in her tone.
"Thinking of me; I should imagine not indeed. But what upon earth haveyou got into that dear little head of yours, my Paolina? Did not youthink both singing and acting very fine?"
"Certainly I think her voice is perhaps the finest I ever heard in mylife; and she is no doubt a great actress--a very great actress;but--she is not simpatica to me. I don't know why, but--somehow orother--I don't like her."
"What can you have got into your head, tesoro mio? You know nothing ofher; you have nothing to do with her except to see and hear her on thestage."
"No; thank heaven! I should not like that she should come any nearer tomy life than that," replied Paolina, with a little shudder.
"Come, Paolina, you must admit that that is being prejudiced andunreasonable," said Ludovico smiling at her.
"Yes; I suppose it is. But--Ludovico mio, just ask any other woman--anyother good woman--in the house; and see if they have not the samefeeling. The Contessa Violante, for example--ask her," said Paolina.
"Just because she is splendidly handsome: women cannot be just to eachother when that comes in the way. But you might afford to be charitableeven to so beautiful a creature as the Lalli, my Paolina."
"No, Signor, I won't be bribed by compliments, even from you," shewhispered, with a look that showed that the value of the bribe was notunappreciated; "and I think that what you say is unjust to women ingeneral."
"But I wonder what it is then that has prejudiced you against theLalli?"
"I don't know. Really nothing that I can tell. One feels sometimes whatone cannot explain. She is not simpatica to me, that is all."
"But what on earth put it into your head, Paolina mia, to say that shewas not thinking of me when she was singing her part? Why should shethink of me--or of anybody else, except the primo tenore, who wassinging with her? What is it you mean?" said Ludovico, much puzzled.
"You said she was a very good actress as well as a fine singer,"returned Paolina; "and I think she is. This is a capital box for seeingall that goes on the opposite side of the theatre. And I can tell youwho the Lalli was thinking of, and who she was singing at during herduet at the end of the act--your uncle, the Marchese Lamberto; and heknew it very well, too."
"What parcel of nonsense have you got into your little brains, Paolina?Sing at the Marchese? Of course they all do; of course they all knowthat his suffrage is of more importance to them than all the rest of thetheatre put together. But as for my idea of--lo zio--of all men in theworld. Ha, ha, ha! If you had lived in Ravenna instead of Venice allyour life, carina mia, you would know how infinitely absurd the ideaseems of there being anything between the Marchese Lamberto and a stagesinger, or of its being possible for him to regard her in any otherlight than that of a singing machine."
"I dare say you are right, caro mio. Still I can't quite think that theMarchese would look at any one of the fiddles quite as I saw him look ather," said Paolina.
And then the immense interval, which occurs between one act and anotherin Italian theatres, and which is tolerated with perfect contentment byItalian audiences, came to an end; and Ludovico hurried down to take hisplace again in the Castelmare box.
The next point in the opera which excited the special enthusiasm of thehouse was the impassioned finale to the second act, in which Amina onher knees strives to convince her lover of her innocence of having everharboured a thought inconsistent with entire devotion to him. She sangas if her whole soul were in her words; and the entire theatre waselectrified by the power of her acting; the entire theatre, with theexception of one intelligent and observant little face in a box on theupper tier, exactly opposite to that of the Marchese Lamberto.
From that vantage-ground of observation Paolina saw perfectly well boththe singer on the stage and the Marchese in the box; and again felt surethat the actress was specially addressing herself with an impliedmeaning to the latter; and that he was aware that she was doing so. Shefelt no doubt that the motive for this was exactly that to whichLudovico had attributed it. It was important to the Diva to flatter andmake a friend of so powerful a theatrical patron as the Marchese; andshe took this very objectionable method, Paolina thought, of attainingthat end. Paolina thought nothing more than this; but, nevertheless, itmade her conceive a dislike for the Diva greater, perhaps, than thecause would seem to justify.
The interval between the second and the third act Ludovico thoughthimself obliged to pass in the box of the Marchese Anna Lanfredi, inwhich Violante was sitting with her aunt. There, too, he found theladies not quite disposed to be as frantically enthusiastic in theirpraises of the singer as the whole male part of the audience. TheMarchesa Lanfredi thought that La Lalli was nothing at all in comparisonwith some singer who had charmed all Bologna some forty years before.And Violante, admitting that she had an exquisite voice and perfectmethod, confessed much as Paolina had done, that she did not quite likeher, she hardly knew why.
In the third act, the song sung by the sleep-walker in her state ofunconsciousness--"Ah non credea mirarti,"--was a great success. And mostfascinatingly lovely the Diva looked in he
r white night-dress, with herwreath of rich auburn tresses hanging in luxuriant curls around hershoulders.
Shortly after this had been sung a liveried servant entered theCastelmare box, bearing a most superb bouquet of choice flowers, tiedwith a long streamer of broad rose-coloured ribbon, and deposited it onthe front of the box.
And then came the joyful finale "Ah non giunge." And in that the Divaseemed to surpass herself. It was a passionate carol of love, and joy,and triumph in which she seemed to pour the whole force and energy ofher soul into the words and sounds that told the truth, the entirety,the perfection of her love, and the overwhelming happiness therecognition of it by its object gave her.
For many minutes the vociferous applause continued. The stage wascovered with flowers flung from all sides of the house. The MarcheseLamberto whispered a word or two to Ludovico; and then the latter,leaning far out of the box, presented the magnificent bouquet to Bianca,who was smiling and thanking the public for their plaudits by repeatedcurtsies, and who came for it to the side of the stage. She made a verylow and graceful curtsey to Ludovico, as she took it from his hand; buther eyes thanked the Marchese Lamberto, who still remained close in hiscorner, for the gift.
The fact was that he was too much moved by violent and contendingemotions to dare to trust himself to hand the flowers himself. He knewthat he was shaking in every limb; and, therefore, had told his nephewto give the bouquet; which, indeed, it was quite a matter of course thata successful prima donna should receive from that box on such anoccasion.
Again and again the curtain had to be raised after it had descended inobedience to the cries of the spectators, who were determined to makethe Diva's triumph complete. Again and again she had to step back on thestage and make yet one more bow and smile--yet one more gracious smile.
During this delay the Marchese Lamberto slipped from his box and madehis way behind the scenes. "Can you feel as Bianca what you can sodivinely express as Amina?" he whispered in her ear as he gave her hisarm to lead her to her carriage at the stage-door.
"Try me as Amina was tried; and reward me as Amina was rewarded, andthen see," she replied in the same tone.
And so ended Bianca Lalli's Carnival engagement at Ravenna.
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