My Italian Adventure, Chapter II [pp. 536-539]

536 MY ITALIAN AD VENTURE [NOVEMBER 11,
than to say that, whatever the Form, the Spirit was always that of
Story, or Narrative. From the days of Chaucer, Narrative Poetry,
Story Poetry, had slumbered. It was awakened by Southey, and Scott,
and Byron. Dramatic Poetry slumbered also, from the days of Shakespeare and his immediate successors, and many strove to awaken it.
Miss Baillie wrote plays, which dealt with single passions. Coleridge
wrote a tragedy; Wordsworth wrote a tragedy; Shiel, Milmnan, Croly,
Maturin, Byron, Miss Mitford, wrote tragedies, some of which were
played with different degrees of success. There was a demand for
plays then, as there is now, and for the same reason, that there
were actors who wanted plays. The actors of that period were men
of genius-the Kembles, Kean, and others-and what they sought
was worthy of their genius: what the actors of the present period
seek is worthy, I suppose, of their genius! An attempt was made to
revive the Poetic Dfama, and it continued down to the "little hour"
of Talfourd and Knowles, when it was abandoned. Mr. Macready was
the last actor of note who had faith in it. It was "faith without
works."
It is instructive to read the modern Poetic Drama-to see what
beauties it has-how sweet, and tender, and manly, much of it is, and
-how little it really accomplished.
At last there came a poet who, in all probability, knew nothing
about this-certainly a poet who cared nothing for it, if he knew it;
and it is to him that we must pay homage for whatever is good, and
great, and profound, in the second period of the Poetic Drama of England. It is not what his predecessors sought to find; it is not what
Shakespeare found without seeking: it is something never found, and
never sought before. That so strange a flower should spring from
such roots is marvellous. It is the Body blossoming into Soul!
Such, I conceive, is Robert Browning and his Work.
R. H. STODDARD.
MY ITALIAN ADVENTURE.
FROM THE GzRmAi or PAUL HEYSE.
CHAPTER IH.
IT was not till the following morning that I remembered there was
still much to be accomplished before my claim would be recognized
to what was already mine. How was I to gain admission to her father's house? And could I gain his confidence as easily as I had his
daughter's? While I sauntered through the arcades, and thought of
these things, propitious chance came again to my assistance. I met
the correspondent of our house, whom I had visited the second day
after my arrival in the city. He was not a little surprised to find me
still in Bologna. I pretended that I was waiting advices from my
brother-in-law-that we were considering the advisability of estab.
lishing a branch house in Italy, and that, too, with especial reference
to Bologna. At all events, it was now very uncertain when I should
continue my tour, and that, during my stay, I should use my best en deavors to become acquainted with such people as it was desirable to
know. Among the names of other families of note, I mentioned that
of the general. Our correspondent did not know him himself, but a
cousin- of his, a young priest, visited the house occasionally, and
would willingly introduce me. He cautioned me to beware of the
dangerous eyes of the beautiful lady of the house, for, said he, though
she has not the reputation of being cruel, yet your time would be
wasted, as the young count, her present gallant, does not seem in clined to tolerate a rival.
I responded to this pleasantry as well as I could, and arranged the
preliminaries for an introduction.. On the evening of the same day, I
met the young priest at a cafe and from there we went to the general's
residence, which was in one of the more retired streets. It was a
palazzo of an unpretending exterior, but very sumptuous within.
Costly carpets covered the floors of the halls through which we passed
to reach the spacious apartment in which there assembled every even ing a small circle of habitues-prelates of every rank, military men,
and two or three old patricians, but no ladies. My young abbe never
tired of enlarging on the good fortune of him who had the entree to
this house.
"What a woman!" he sighed. He seemed to cherish the hope
that his turn would come sooner or later.
When I entered, the first person I saw was the general, who sat
in an arm-chair opposite an old priest. Between them stood a
small, marble-topped table, on which they were playing dominoes.
On a stool beside the general lay some sheets of paper, covered with
the figures of soldiers, and a pair of scissors. He was in the habit
of cutting out these figures when he had no one to play at dominoes
with him. My companion allowed me to remain with him but a very
few moments. I had hardly gotten through the usual commonplace remarks, to which the old gentleman responded with a good-natured,
almost childish smile, and a cordial shake of the hand, when I was led
into a small boudoir, where the lady of the house was reclining on a
divan, and a long, lavishly-adorned young man sat in a rocking-chair
opposite her. Neither of them appeared to me much interested in
their tgte-d-tte. He was languidly turning over the leaves of an album
he held in his lap, while the lady was occupied in embroidering, and
now and then stroked, with the toe of her brocaded slipper, a large
Angora cat, that lay at her feet.
By the subdued light of the sconces, reflected by numberless
mirrors, I did not at first recognize in the lady before me the beauty
whom I had seen at early mass, although the little fan, with the
mother-of-pearl handle, lay on a table near her. She, however, must
have recognized me at the first glance. She started up so quickly, as
I entered the room, that she loosened her comb, and her hair-of
which she had a great abundance-fell down over her shoulders. The
cat awoke, and looked at me as though he thought me an intruder;
the long young man cast a glance at me that seemed to say, "I wish
you were in tophet!" and I myself was so confused, when I saw
whom I had before me, that I was most thankful to my companion for
giving me no opportunity to say a word, had I been ever so much disposed to do so. She, too, was silent for some moments, but she
looked at me with that same steadfast gaze which had made me feel
so uncomfortable in the church. It was not till she observed the
rudeness of the count, who tried to ignore my presence, that her
face became more animated. In a low, fascinating tone, which was
the most youthful part of her, she invited me, after having dislodged
the cat, to sit down beside her on the divan. Then, turning to the
long young man, she said:
"Won't you look over the music I received from Florence to-day,
count? I will sing something by-and-by, and shall call on you to
accompany me."
His countship seemed at first inclined to rebel, but a determined
look from the lady's blue eyes admonished him that she was not in a
mood to tolerate disloyalty. We soon heard him strike some accords
on the piano in the adjoining saloon. The young abb6, in compliance
with a polite request, busied himself in cutting the leaves of some new
French novels, so that I alone was left to pay court to the fair hostess.
Heaven knows I envied them, and most of all the old canon at the
domino-table!
From the first word I exchanged with the lady, I felt an exceeding
dislike for her, which increased in proportion as she strove to attract
me. I was compelled to exert all my powers of dissimulation to keep
up an apparent interest in what she said; for my thoughts were away
ip the saloon of the villa in the suburbs, and, in spite of all the
smoothly-turned nothings of my interlocutor, I heard the soft, child like voice of my dear Beatrice, and saw her clear eyes fixed on mine
with a sad, reproachful expression.
But, in spite of this absence of mind and heart, the lady did not
seem displeased with me, either as a listener or a talker. She was,
doubtless, as much in error with regard to the cause of my embar rassment as she was with regard to my motive in seeking to be intro duced into her house. She complimented me on my fluency in Ital ian, but said I had a slight Piedmontese accent, which I would hardly
have a better opportunity to correct than by joining her evening circle
as often as my other engagements would permit. She herself had
onerous duties to perform, she said, with a sigh and a glance toward
the adjoining room, whence we heard the good-natured laugh of
the general, who had just won a game. It was only in the evening
hours, she continued, that she really lived. I was young, and the so ciety of a woman, prematurely grave, would, it was true, not be likely
to possess any especial attraction for me; but so sincere a friend as
I would find in her was worth some sacrifice. I looked very like a
brother of hers, whom she had dearly loved, and who died young.
This resemblance accounted for her looking at me so intently in the
church, and made my visit doubly welcome.
She cast down her eyes with well-assumed embarrassment, and,
MY ITALIAN AD VET URE.
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