THE ORPHAN OF THE RHINE
PART 14
Chapter 11
With what a leaden and retarding weight
Does expectation load the wing of Time!
--MASON
Willing to divert her thoughts from a subject in
which she was too nearly interested, Laurette attempted, though without
success, to find amusement in employment: She took up her lute, but her fingers
were unable to perform their office; the notes she awakened were low,
spiritless, and inharmonious, and it was replaced with languor and dissatisfaction.
Her embroidery and books were equally ineffectual to bestow the charm of
content, and the more frequently this strange incident recurred to her mind,
the more insupportable were the moments of suspense. That attractive composure
of demeanour, which formerly added the most winning softness to her motions,
had in some degree forsaken her; she reflected, with concern, upon her promise
to the Father, and seemed equally to dread and to desire the expected
interview.
As soon as
dinner was removed, she arose and quitted the room, meaning to ramble though
the shrubberies; but as the afternoon was a remarkably fine one, she determined
to endeavour, at least, to calm the more painful emotions by visiting the
cottages that bordered the river, whose simple and industrious inhabitants had
been always the objects of her bounty.
Having
relieved the necessities of those who apparently suffered the most from the
hardships of poverty, and listened with peculiar kindness to the infantine
prattle of the children, who were each anxious to gain a smile or a kiss from
their lovely benefactress, she continued her walk.
The
loneliness of the road she had chosen was ill adapted to her present frame of
mind, as it failed, for want of variety in its scenery, to fix her attention,
and to recall her from that harassing anxiety which enervates, and unfits for
action.
The
singular aspect of the Monk, his abrupt stile of addressing her, the secret he
had to disclose so dreadfully important as his manner had indicated, were
circumstances ever present to her thoughts. Sometimes it occurred to her that
the expected discovery related to Madame Chamont, and that the person who had
so strangely introduced himself, having by some means become acquainted with
the violent measures that had been adopted in forcing her from her abode, and
of the primary cause of them, intended, by making it known to those who were
the most nearly concerned in her welfare, to prevent the unhappy consequences
that might otherwise ensue. But this, on a second review, appeared unlikely; if
the Monk had obtained any knowledge upon this subject, he would doubtless have
embraced some other means of conveying this necessary intelligence at an
earlier period, and of rendering her such advice and assistance, as to the manner
of proceeding, as would have been consistent with his holy character and
office.
What he
had to unfold must then relate merely to herself, something probably concerning
her birth. This opinion the delivery of the picture seemed to corroborate; but
who it could be that had acquired information upon a subject which had hitherto
been so mysteriously concealed, and by what means he had gained possession of
the picture, which he declared to be the portrait of her mother, were points
equally surprising and unaccountable.
The shades
of night that fell fast upon the surrounding objects, now warning her of the
approaching hour, quickened her steps towards the castle.
The soft
stillness of the evening that seemed to breathe peace and tranquillity, tended
to revive her depressed spirits, enabling her to reflect upon the appointment
she had made with more composure and serenity.
As soon as
she entered the hall, the shrill tone of the vesper-bell reminded her of her
mysterious visitor, and summoned her to nocturnal prayer.
When the
service was concluded, and the family were retired from the chapel, with
trembling steps and a palpitating heart she prepared to meet the Monk,
according to her engagement.
Having
waited for a few minutes in the outward court, in hopes of seeing Paoli enter
the castle, she observed, with some emotion, that he turned into the wood that
secreted the eastern side of the edifice. But as he sometimes rambled alone in
the evening for a considerable time, she began to flatter herself into the opinion
that he would not return from his excursion during her conference with the
Father.
She had no
sooner entered the smaller court, and placed herself by the column, than she
perceived the mysterious Monk, with a thoughtful and dejected air, moving slowly
through the avenue.
When he
had arrived at the vista he stopped, crossed himself, and then numbering his
Paternosters and Ave Marias on his rosary, a ceremony which Laurette's
impatience would at that moment gladly have spared, he hastened to the appointed
place.
A hood was
added to his dress, which he threw back the instant he recognized Laurette, and
a small crucifix of silver was suspended on his breast.
Having
advanced within a few paces of the column--'I am come,' said he, fixing his
eyes upon her with a mild and steadfast gaze, 'to warn you of the dangers that
threaten you--to save you from misery, and perchance from death. I am come
also,' added he, sighing deeply, and clasping his hands together, with a look
directed meekly towards heaven, 'to acquaint you with the wrongs you have
endured, and to unveil the hidden mysteries of your birth. Listen to me, my
child; on this moment, this important moment, depends your future destiny.'
Laurette
trembled, and looking fearfully around, whilst the Father was repeating his
injunctions of secrecy in the same manner as on the preceding day, she beheld
Paoli embowered in some trees that projected from the side of the wood,
apparently listening to their discourse. Fear almost deprived her of utterance:
'We are observed,' cried she, in tremulous and broken accents, 'leave me, holy
Father, I beseech you--to-morrow at this hour.'
She could
proceed no farther; the Monk glided amongst the trees, to elude the observation
of Paoli, who finding himself discovered, rushed instantly from the wood.
Having
demanded, in an imperious tone, with whom she was conversing, and what was the
subject of their conference, and Laurette, amazed at his presumption and
arrogance, resolutely refusing to answer, he seized her rudely by the arm, and
led her into the saloon.
Here he
again repeated his command, but finding that neither this nor menaces were
likely to prove effectual, as she replied to his interrogatories with a degree
of firmness which he termed the most daring obstinacy, he desired her to
prepare for her departure from the castle on the following morning.
This was a
blow the gentle spirits of Laurette could with difficulty support; yet no
alternative remained. She was too well acquainted with the disposition of the
steward to believe he would yield to intreaty, and she was also convinced, from
the judgment she had formed of his character, that if she ventured to
expostulate with him, or to enquire by what authority he was capacitated to
remove her from her present residence, without the knowledge and acquiescence
of the Marchese, before the expiration of the time proposed, that by thus
appearing to doubt his consequence in the eye of his Lord, he would only, by
more arbitrary proceedings, endeavour to convince her of the unlimited extent
of his power.
Being
assured that all hopes of receiving the information she so ardently desired,
respecting her birth and connection, were now entirely frustrated, she felt all
the bitterness of disappointment and perplexity; as she was perfectly convinced
that was she even permitted to remain a few weeks longer at the castle, she
would doubtless be so strictly watched by the suspicious eye of Paoli during
the interval, as to render a second interview with the Monk impracticable.
The night
was passed by Laurette in a state of restless anxiety; what she had heard from
the Father increased her uneasiness, and nothing but the rectitude of her
intentions, and the conscious innocence of her conduct, could have sustained
her under this new cause of distress.
Chapter 12
At night returning, every labour sped.
He sits him down the monarch of a shed.
Smiles by his chearful fire, and round surveys
His children's looks, that brighten at the blaze;
While his lov'd partner, boastful of her hoard.
Displays her cleanly platter on the board;
And haply too, some pilgrim thither led.
With many a tale repays the nightly bed.
--GOLDSMITH
The sun
had scarce risen upon the mountains before Laurette, by the desire of the
steward, was awakened from a soft slumber into which she had recently fallen,
with orders for her to prepare for an immediate departure.
Dorothée,
who was the unwilling messenger of these unpleasant tidings, unable to bear the
idea of this temporary separation, as it was determined on the preceding night
that she and Lisette were not to accompany them, but to remain at the castle
till the return of Ambrose; Laurette, feeling more collected than she had been
since her interview with the Monk, assumed an appearance of serenity, and
having conversed with her faithful servant for some time, as she sat by the
side of the bed, with the most affecting tenderness, she gave some necessary
orders concerning her wardrobe, her books, and what other things she wished to
have conveyed to her future residence, and then ordering breakfast to be served
in her apartment, prepared to obey the summons.
She had
scarcely partaken of the morning's repast before she was informed that the
mules were in readiness, and that Paoli and Ambrose were already impatiently awaiting
her arrival.
Having
taken a tender adieu of the kind Margaritte, who was too old to be a follower
of her fortunes, and had therefore determined to return to the cottage she
formerly possessed in an adjacent village; she presented her with her five last
remaining rix-dollars, as the reward of her services; and waving her hand to
her poor pensioners, who crowded about her to give and to receive a last
farewel, she held her handkerchief to her eyes, as if afraid to trust herself
with a last look at the only home she had ever known, and advanced towards the
gate.
Being
placed upon the mule that was guided by the steward, Ambrose mounted the lesser
one, and after some resistance on the part of the latter, who had been for some
time unaccustomed to discipline, they pursued their journey.
It was a
fine autumnal morning, and as the travellers advanced, the face of Nature,
which at the early hour they had chosen, wore a lowering and unpromising
aspect, now gradually brightened. The mists, which had veiled the tops of the
eminences, were suddenly dispersed, and the sun, no longer watery and dim,
spread over the landscape a soft and silvery light.
The birds,
whose responses were at first low, now swelled into choral harmony; every
object seemed to partake of the general joy; all was melody, delight, and
ecstasy.
Laurette
meditated on them in silence, lamenting at the same time that she could not
join in these universal expressions of rapture, which would have afforded her
inconceivable pleasure, had melancholy anticipation been banished from her
heart.
The same
gloomy reserve marked the behaviour of Paoli that was peculiar to his
character; sometimes he turned to Laurette, and asked her some questions
concerning the road, and whether the motion was too slow or too rapid, and
then, without attending to the answer, relapsed into his former state of
silence and thoughtfulness.
There were
several small inns on the road that afforded them rest and provisions, whose
inhabitants frequently extended their civility beyond the common bounds of
hospitality, seeming anxious to accommodate them with every necessary which
their situation as travellers required.
It was not
till the evening of the third day that they arrived near the boundaries of
Salzburg, when Laurette was informed by the steward, who appeared somewhat to
relax from his reserve, that they were within two days' journey of the castle
of Lunenburg, which was the name of her future abode.
The beauty
of the landscape now visibly improved; the boundless and variegated plains,
innumerable lakes, rivers, brooks, and valleys of tremendous depth, encompassed
with huge rocks of granite, which, being contrasted with the dark woods that
waved from the cultivated mountains, had an unspeakable fine effect, and could
not be gazed upon without the most sublime and exquisite sensations.
Every
thing was presented to the eye in these beautiful regions which the most
fertile and picturesque imagination could conceive; and Laurette, recalled from
the contemplation of her own peculiar distresses, beheld some of the finest
scenery in nature with indescribable astonishment.
Every
beauty was augmented by contrast; sometimes the hut of a shepherd, or the
cottage of a goatherd, situated upon the hanging brow of a precipice, caught
her eye, shaded only by the foliated branches of the oak from the inclemency of
the weather. The roads in this mountainous country being in general good, they
proceeded on their journey with less fatigue than would otherwise have been the
case. The most dreadful abysses were rendered passable by the assistance of
wooden bridges, which were hung in chains, some apparently so loosely as to
impress on the mind an alarming idea of danger. But of their safety our
travellers were assured by the peasantry, who asserted that an accident very
rarely happened from this mode of conveyance, as the heaviest carriages had
been known to pass over without receiving any injury but what might be
occasioned by a violent gust of wind, or a sudden fall of snow in the spring.
Having
left the town of Salzburg on the right, they proceeded on their way with
redoubled speed, in hopes of being able to reach the next tolerable inn, which
Paoli recollected was at some distance from the place.
But as the
evening was approaching, and Laurette was somewhat fatigued and indisposed, it
was mutually agreed that the party should endeavour to get accommodations at
one of the cottages that lay scattered upon the road.
One
peculiar for its neatness riveted their attention, and Ambrose being dispatched
with a message, Laurette and Paoli stopped at the bottom of the hill on which
it was situated, to await the success of his embassy.
In a short
time the owner of this little retreat, attended by his daughter, with all that
diffusive hospitality which is characteristic of the peasantry of Salzburg,
mingled with a certain degree of courtesy that seemed not to be wholly the gift
of nature, appeared to conduct them to the cottage.
All that
Laurette had ever read of rural simplicity, content, and innocence, and all
that her imagination, though somewhat warm and romantic, had formed, fell short
of that which was presented to her in the family of the cottager.
Zierman,
which was the name of her host, having led them into a small neat room, whose
casement was embowered with the honeysuckle and the eglantine, and which
commanded a prospect of pastoral beauty almost unequalled, left our heroine and
the steward alone, whilst he went to assist Ambrose in finding a place of
security for his mules, and to order refreshment for his guests.
In a few
minutes he returned with some fruit, cream, and a thin kind of wine, which was
all that the cottage afforded.
Having
partaken of this hospitable meal, which was animated with a smile of unfeigned
welcome, the spirits of the travellers were recruited; and as Paoli conversed
with the peasant, who seemed, though placed in obscurity, to possess some
knowledge of men and manners, Laurette amused herself with observing the
beautiful variety of every thing around.
The little
garden cultivated with care, that was surrounded with a hedge blooming with
briar-roses and wild honeysuckles, discovered not only the simplicity but the
taste of its owner; beyond which arose hills formed into the most picturesque
lines, and covered with delightful verdure, which acquired an appearance of the
most flourishing vegetation from being contrasted with those tremendous
mountains, whose summits, penetrating the clouds, were veiled in awful
obscurity.
Much as
she had been accustomed to admire the wild and extensive scenery which her
former residence commanded, the infinite diversity of objects which were
visible from this secluded retreat, could not be contemplated without the
sublimest emotions.
When Paoli
and his host had conversed for some time upon common subjects, the latter began
to recite some particulars relative to himself and his family, which were
interesting, because in relating them he discovered a sensibility of mind not
usually found in that sphere of life, the hard and laborious employments of
which preclude the cultivation of the nicer feelings.
Paoli, who
neither understood nor internally applauded these amiable traits of character
which Laurette observed with increasing admiration, apparently listened to the
discourse, though his intellectual powers were probably more profitably
employed in the contemplation of some favourite project.
'It is now
ten years,' added the old man, with a sigh, and a tear which he endeavoured to
repress, 'since I lost my wife; she died suddenly, and for some time this
cottage, which was once so dear to mc, and in which I had enjoyed so many hours
of repose and happiness, was by this unexpected event rendered insupportable,
which determined me to remove from it to another occupied by my daughter, that
is situated about a league and a half from this place; hoping to take refuge
from uneasiness in the society of my only child, who was united to a young
farmer, to whom she had been long attached, a few months before the death of
her mother.
'There I
remained some time, till my natural affection to my little paternal inheritance
returning, I felt an irresistible inclination to revisit it. Having obviated
some objections on the part of my daughter and her husband, I at length
prevailed upon them to accompany me here; and in their society, and in the
amusement their little family affords, I have regained that habitual
cheerfulness of temper which I am persuaded is one of the first blessings of
life.'
Here
Zierman was interrupted by the entrance of Ulrica, his daughter, with two of
her children, whom Laurette remembered having seen and admired as she ascended
the hill, when they were engaged in play with their companions in the glens of
the mountains.
As soon as
Ulrica entered, she repeated the same friendly welcome with which the party
were at first received, and then seating herself by the side of her young
guest, to whom she more particularly addressed herself, occasionally joined in
conversation.
Laurette
being now materially recovered from her fatigue by the salutary rest and
refreshment that had been administered, requested permission to walk to the end
of the garden, which terminated in a kind of natural terrace, that she might be
gratified with the beauty of the prospect. The hostess agreed to the proposition,
and attended her to the place.
It
commanded an infinitude of objects of the most interesting and attractive kind:
on the right was a beautiful lake retiring amongst the hills into remote
distance, whose silvery appearance, contrasted with the dark woods that
frequently interrupted its course, had a very charming effect. On the left,
appeared a range of rocks of an enormous size, some of which, projecting
forwards, frowned over the Saltza, that rushed impetuously through the cliffs
with the foam of a cataract; except the noise of this boisterous stream, which,
from its being softened by distance, occasioned only a gentle murmur, no other
sound was to be heard, save the tones of a flute, resounding from the valleys
or from the brow of a precipice, to assemble the sheep around the huts of the
peasants.
As
Laurette took a survey of this beautiful country, she was tempted to believe
that happiness was exclusively the portion of the shepherd and the goatherd,
and would at that moment gladly have resigned all future advantages for a
similar situation, could those she had lost have been restored to her.
Having
thanked Ulrica for her attention with the most insinuating courtesy of manners,
Laurette made some general enquiries concerning the families of the
mountaineers whose picturesque habitations had so romantic an appearance, and
then returned towards the cottage.
Here she
found Paoli and his host regaling themselves with some wine and grapes which
the son-in-law of the latter had presented to them in her absence, and of
which, on being politely offered to her on her entrance, she consented to
partake.
The moon
now shone full into the casement, and every sound being hushed, except the
light trembling of the leaves that overshadowed the cottage, Laurette intimated
a wish to retire, and was conducted by her hostess to her room.
As she
paused for a moment at the window of the apartment to enjoy the serenity of the
scene, the notes of a guitar, accompanied by a female voice that breathed the
most affecting sweetness, fixed her to the spot. The air, which was a
melancholy one, seemed to have been awakened by no common sorrow, and throwing
open the casement, she stood for some time to be assured from whence it
proceeded, and to indulge herself in the soft sensation of sympathy which the
song inspired.
As she
still listened, the strain died away upon the air, and all was again silent;
but after a momentary pause it swelled louder, and seemed to approach nearer
towards the cottage.
In hopes
of being able to get a sight of the harmonist, she still lingered at the
window, but, contrary to her expectation, the music seemed to retreat again
towards the woods, and was soon heard no more.
Ulrica,
who re-entered the room to enquire if she could render her any farther assistance,
gave her some intelligence relative to the musician, who she learned was a
young woman who had met with a disappointment in the tender passion, which had
occasioned the loss of her senses.
'I know
but little of the story, Madame,' resumed Ulrica, 'but I believe my father can
inform you of the whole. All that I have heard is, that she is the daughter of
a goatherd, and that she lives in a small hut on one of the neighbouring
mountains;--her name is Ida; her lover, I think, died on the day fixed for
their marriage; but there are many mournful circumstances attending the story
which I am partly unacquainted with, for it is now several years since they
happened, and at that time I was not resident in the neighbourhood. But ever
since the commencement of her misfortunes she has wandered about in the woods,
singing so sweetly that I have heard my father say, before it was known to be
Ida, it was reported that the woods were haunted.'
'And does
no one attend her,' asked Laurette, 'in her nocturnal rambles?'
'Yes, her
father or her brother follows her at some distance,' returned the hostess; 'but
she will not allow them to break in upon her solitude; if it was known to her
that she was watched, she would become desperate; so that they are compelled to
indulge her in this unfortunate propensity, which frequently deprives them of
rest, because her father, who adores her, will not allow her to be confined. In
the day-time she usually remains in her hut, though I have sometimes seen her
in the glens of the rocks culling flowers from the interstices, and forming
them into garlands, and then sing so sadly, that I have been unable to refrain
from weeping.
'But it is
a mournful story, Madame,' continued Ulrica, observing that her fair auditor
appeared much affected; 'let us change the subject.'
Laurette
forced a smile upon her features, and desiring that she might no longer detain
her, since it was a late hour, and the rest of the family were in bed, wished
her a good night, and endeavoured to forget her own sorrows, and those of the
unfortunate Ida, in repose.
As soon as
the morning appeared, the travellers arose from their slumbers, and after a
simple repast, returned thanks to the cottagers for their hospitable reception,
who would accept no pecuniary reward for their services, and then continued
their journey.
It was not
till the evening that they arrived within sight of the place of their
destination, and Laurette's heart sunk within her when the first turret was
partially seen through the dark foliage of the woods with which it was
surrounded.
As they
advanced nearer, the body of the edifice gradually emerged from the gloom, and
the moon, throwing her soft light upon its summit, discovered a magnificent
abode, which, from comparison with the desolate looking mansion they had left,
appeared to the young and astonished eyes of Laurette like the residence of an
eastern prince.
Chapter 13
Bear me, embowering shades, between.
Through many a glade and vista green;
Whate'er can captivate the sight.
Elysian lawns and prospects bright;
Give me, fair Fancy, to pervade
Chambers in pictur'd pomp array'd.
Peopling whose stately walls, I view
The godlike forms that Raphael drew;
I seem to see his magic hand
Wield the wond'rous pencil wand.
Whose touches animation give.
And bid the insensate canvas live.
--SALMAGUNDI
As soon as
the travellers had alighted, Paoli conducted Laurette to a private-door, and
having ordered a female-servant to convey her into the interior of the castle,
left her whilst he gave some necessary orders to Ambrose respecting the mules.
Our
heroine in the meantime proceeded through a long extent of passage, dimly
lighted by a lamp, which terminated in a spiral stair-case. As soon as she had
ascended the steps, the woman who attended her opened a door leading into an
anti-chamber, which was furnished with much taste and magnificence, where, to
her inexpressible astonishment, she beheld a lady, apparently about forty,
genteelly and rather elegantly dressed, seated upon a sofa.
Laurette
being somewhat embarrassed at the appearance of the stranger, who herself
betrayed some symptoms of surprise, endeavoured to apologize for her intrusion,
and to explain the occasion of it.
Signora
d'Orfo, which was the name of the lady, having acquitted herself with much
grace and propriety, led her to a seat, and observing that she looked faint,
rang the bell for refreshment.
The
courteous manners of the stranger, whose aspect bespoke her a woman of rank,
soon dissipated the uneasy sensations of her guest, who was early relieved from
the suspicion that her arrival was unexpected, though it was evident that it
was precipitated without orders from the Marchese.
The air of
tender dejection that marked the features of Laurette, and the peculiar
elegance of her deportment, rendered still more interesting by that gentle
diffidence of manner, occasioned by the exquisite sensibility of a mind yet new
to the world, so insinuated her into the affections of the Signora, that
admiration was mingled with pity, and she felt an irresistible desire to be
more particularly acquainted with her story, of which she had heard something,
but not distinctively, and to conciliate her regard. Yet being influenced by the
native gentleness of her heart, she forbore to make an immediate enquiry, lest
it should lead to melancholy remembrances; and having prevailed upon her to
partake of a repast that was prepared for her, finding that rest was more than
ordinarily requisite, she conducted her to her apartment.
Laurette,
when alone, began to ruminate upon an incident which, though unlooked for, was
attended with some degree of pleasure. Her first conjecture was, that the lady
who presided at the castle in the absence of its owner, was related to the
Marchese; and this opinion the air of fashion that distinguished her, and the
circumstances of her being at the mansion previous to his arrival, to prepare
it for his reception, seemed to justify. But that Paoli, who consequently must
have been apprized of the affair, should have preserved so strict a silence
upon the subject, notwithstanding his disposition was naturally
uncommunicative, was a matter of astonishment.
In the
morning Signora d'Orfo entered her room, and having made some general enquiries
concerning her health, which were answered with the most captivating sweetness,
they descended into the breakfast room.
Though
Laurette exerted herself as much as possible to wear an appearance of
cheerfulness, she frequently sunk into fits of abstraction. The uncertain fate
of her lamented friend, whose loss had so long wounded her repose, the
mysterious silence of Enrico, whose dangerous enterprize her fears had so
materially augmented, preyed upon her heart; and now that she was removed from
the castle, it seemed as if she was separated for ever from every vestige of
her former happiness. Yet to appear uneasy in the presence of her new
acquaintance, whose solicitude to please could not be misconstrued, would, she
considered, wear an appearance of ingratitude, or at least of indifference,
which might injure her in the estimation of a person apparently so little
deserving of neglect or inattention.
This
reflection instigated her to endeavour, at least, to conceal that regret which
she found it was impossible to erase, under an assumed tranquillity of
deportment; but in this attempt she succeeded so ill that the Signora, who
possessed much penetration, united to a sound judgment and a thorough knowledge
of the world, easily discovered that she was unhappy; and though partly
acquainted with the cause, arising from her own forlorn and dependant
situation, which, joined to the uncertainty of her birth, a mind of sensibility
could not reflect upon without pain, she believed there was some more recent
occasion of inquietude, and curiosity, as well as pity, was excited in her
bosom.
As soon as
breakfast was over, the Signora proposed a walk in the gardens, observing, that
since they were at present condemned to solitude, they must accommodate
themselves to what was unavoidable, and extract comfort, if not happiness, from
the means that were offered them.
'There are
some paintings also in the castle,' resumed the Signora, 'which are worthy of
notice; and if you will permit me, I will conduct you through the principal
apartments, and we will then take a stroll through the grounds.'
Charmed
with the gentle attentions of her new friend, Laurette unreluctantly assented
to the proposal; and throwing an embroidered scarf over her shoulders, followed
the Signora through the corridor.
Several of
the rooms were in an unfinished state, but those that were completed were
extremely magnificent, and much taste was displayed in the decoration; some of
them were hung with damask, others with costly tapestry, and the inferior ones
with gilt leather. The furniture corresponded with these, and appeared so much
superior to any thing Laurette had ever seen, that she could not forbear
expressing her surprise. The Signora smiled at the simplicity of her remarks,
and anticipated her astonishment when she should behold the grand saloons and
principal rooms in the castle.
Having
taken a general survey of the upper apartments, they proceeded towards the
northern gallery, which was ornamented with several paintings from sacred
history by the first masters of the Lombard school, as Titian, Paul Veronese,
and Tintoret, under which were placed a number of ancient and valuable busts,
particularly those of the Emperors Trajan, Otho, Tibullus, and Augustus Caesar.
They then
descended the marble staircase, and proceeded through a long vaulted passage,
which led immediately to the great hall. Here a scene of wonders was presented
to the astonished eyes of Laurette; it was spacious and of vast extent; the
floor was of marble; the walls, in which were several recesses, were painted in
fresco; the ceiling, exhibiting a scene from the Odyssey of Homer, was
supported by twenty composite pillars, whose bandelets were of silver; the
recesses were adorned with statues from the antique of granite, porphyry, and
parian marble.
At the
upper end of the hall was erected a stately organ, composed of ebony,
beautifully inlaid with ivory, and decorated with a variety of ornaments. The
curtain was of purple satin, fringed and drawn up with tassels of gold; the
pipes and pedals were of silver, and the upper keys of the finest ivory.
The
Signora having opened it, touched a few simple notes; the tones were full and harmonious,
and the effect was heightened by echo. Laurette, to whom this instrument was
new, requested that she would favour her with a song; to this she immediately
assented, and taking a place at the organ, played and sung the following air:
THE SYLPH
A RONDEAU
From your wild aerial pleasures.
Sister spirits, haste away.
Join the dance, in frolic measures.
'Mid dark woods, in shadows grey.
On the zephyrs' pinion sailing
Swift we'll cleave the ambient air.
Catch the od'rous sweets, exhaling
From each herb and flow'ret fair.
Now our wild course earthward bending.
Where the sportive sun-beams play;
On the viewless winds descending
Through the silvery floods of day.
'Mid deep shades and glens advancing.
Where sequester'd mortals dwell.
Round the purple orchis dancing.
Or the lily's pendant bell.
From your wild aerial pleasures.
Sister Spirits, haste away.
Join the dance in frolic measures.
'Mid dark woods, in shadows grey.
Laurette
having complimented the Signora upon a performance that discovered much taste
and judgment, was conducted by her into the saloons, and other magnificent
rooms in the castle, which were adorned with a profusion of rare and valuable
pictures by the most celebrated of the Italian painters, and some that
exhibited the bold and masterly strokes of the Roman pencil.
All here
appeared like the work of enchantment; the windows, descending to the floors,
opened into balconies, in which were placed vases containing roses, myrtle, and
Amaranthus that distilled delicious fragrance; beyond these the most gay and
beautiful parterres, lawns, groves, and winding streams, being aided by the
natural grandeur of the scenery, presented to the eye of the enthusiast a
combination of beauties which Fancy herself could not so successfully have
delineated.
From the
principal saloon they proceeded through a glass door, which opened into the
pleasure-ground. Here our lovely heroine, whose astonishment could be only
equalled by her admiration, was conducted to several grottos, cascades, and
beautiful declivities, where so little method was observed by the artist, that
they appeared like the work of Nature when in one of her most wild and fanciful
moods.
The
timidity natural to minds of quick and delicate perception, which had hitherto
repressed the communication of sentiment, now imperceptibly yielded to
reciprocal affection; and the Signora, ardently desirous of exciting an
interest in the heart of her young and amiable guest, began to relate several
incidents of her past life, endeavouring by her example to betray her into a
similar and mutual confidence.
Laurette
listened with attention; and some symptoms of curiosity appearing in her looks,
the Signora continued.
'My life,
which has been hitherto almost invariably marked with ill-fortune, can boast no
great variety of incident; yet, though my story is uniformly sad, it may not be
altogether uninteresting; and a mind that has been taught by reflection to
think and to feel, will not contemplate the misfortunes I have endured without
an emotion of pity.'
Laurette,
to whom the latter part of this discourse was particularly addressed, bowed
gracefully; and still more desirous of being acquainted with a story, which
though its prelude promised little to entertain, yet much to interest, besought
her to proceed.
The
Signora hesitated some moments, as if to recollect or to arrange some
circumstances of her narrative, and then began as follows.
To be continued
