X
When I got home, I threw myself on my bed and enjoyed a delightfulsleep, and when I awoke felt cool and fresh, and very happy.
'What is the matter with you?' asked Matteo.
'I am rather contented with myself,' I said.
'Then, if you want to make other people contented, you had better comewith me to Donna Claudia.'
'The beautiful Claudia?'
'The same!'
'But can we venture in the enemy's camp?'
'That is exactly why I want you to come. The idea is to take no noticeof the events of yesterday, and that we should all go about as ifnothing had happened.'
'But Messer Piacentini will not be very glad to see us.'
'He will be grinding his teeth, and inwardly spitting fire; but he willtake us to his arms and embrace us, and try to make us believe he lovesus with the most Christian affection.'
'Very well; come on!'
Donna Claudia, at all events, was delighted to see us, and she beganmaking eyes and sighing, and putting her hand to her bosom in the mostaffecting manner.
'Why have you not been to see me, Messer Filippo?' she asked.
'Indeed, madam, I was afraid of being intrusive.'
'Ah,' she said, with a sweeping glance, 'how could you be! No, there wasanother reason for your absence. Alas!'
'I dared not face those lustrous eyes.'
She turned them full on me, and then turned them up, Madonna-wise,showing the whites.
'Are they so cruel, do you think?'
'They are too brilliant. How dangerous to the moth is the candle; and inthis case the candle is twain.'
'But they say the moth as it flutters in the flame enjoys a perfectionof ecstasy.'
'Ah, but I am a very sensible moth,' I answered in a matter-of-facttone, 'and I am afraid of burning my wings.'
'How prosaic!' she murmured.
'The muse,' I said politely, 'loses her force when you are present.'
She evidently did not quite understand what I meant, for there was alook of slight bewilderment in her eyes; and I was not surprised, for Ihad not myself the faintest notion of my meaning. Still she saw it was acompliment.
'Ah, you are very polite!'
We paused a moment, during which we both looked unutterable things atone another. Then she gave a deep sigh.
'Why so sad, sweet lady?' I asked.
'Messer Filippo,' she answered, 'I am an unhappy woman.' She hit herbreast with her hand.
'You are too beautiful,' I remarked gallantly.
'Ah no! ah no! I am unhappy.'
I glanced at her husband, who was stalking grimly about the room,looking like a retired soldier with the gout; and I thought that to bein the society of such a person was enough to make anyone miserable.
'You are right,' she said, following my eyes; 'it is my husband. He isso unsympathetic.'
I condoled with her.
'He is so jealous of me, and, as you know, I am a pattern of virtue toForli!'
I had never heard her character so described, but, of course, I said,--
'To look at you would be enough to reassure the most violent ofhusbands.'
'Oh, I have temptation enough, I assure you,' she answered quickly.
'I can well believe that.'
'But I am as faithful to him as if I were old and ugly; and yet he isjealous.'
'We all have our crosses in this life,' I remarked sententiously.
'Heaven knows I have mine; but I have my consolations.'
So I supposed, and answered,--
'Oh!'
'I pour out my soul in a series of sonnets.'
'A second Petrarch!'
'My friends say some of them are not unworthy of that great name.'
'I can well believe it.'
Here relief came, and like the tired sentinel, I left the post of duty.I thought of my sweet Giulia, and wondered at her beauty and charm; itwas all so much clearer and cleaner than the dross I saw around me. Icame away, for I was pining for solitude, and then I gave myself up tothe exquisite dreams of my love.
At last the time came, the long day had at last worn away, and thenight, the friend of lovers, gave me leave to go to Giulia.
The Making of a Saint Page 11