DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.55699#0149
THE CAMPANILE.
117
the heart of Camillo sank as he beheld her. She at
once entered upon her story,—a story of bitter wrongs
and of inhuman deceits practised upon her young and
spotless heart. When she reached the catastrophe of her
history, her voice sank into a scarcely audible whisper,
which, approaching Camillo closely, she breathed into his
ear. Her tones, though low, faltered not, and her eye
was perfectly tearless. “ And now,” she said, ffyour
suit is answered. In that day of extremity, when the
traitor abandoned me for another, on my knees I vowed
that upon him who should bring to me the sweet tidings
that he lived not, I would bestow soul and body, heart
and hand ■, but such task is not for you. Farewell for
ever I”
To say that Camillo was thunderstruck would ill de-
scribe his situation. The blast of the lightning would
have deadened the feelings which in him were excited
to a state of tumultuous frenzy. Love, disappointment,
rage, and revenge, filled his heart with an agony which
almost threatened his dissolution. In the spot where
the stranger had left him, he long strove with the passions
which agitated him, but which, ere he left the shade of
the forest, had subsided into one dark and deadly pur-
pose.
A few days after these transactions, as the young
Count Filippo Durazzo, in company with his beautiful
wife, was entering the public gardens at Vicenza, under
the archway of Palladio, he was suddenly confronted by
a stranger, who studiously placed himself in his way.
The count endeavoured to avoid him, but the stranger
succeeded in rudely thrusting him from his path. Placing
117
the heart of Camillo sank as he beheld her. She at
once entered upon her story,—a story of bitter wrongs
and of inhuman deceits practised upon her young and
spotless heart. When she reached the catastrophe of her
history, her voice sank into a scarcely audible whisper,
which, approaching Camillo closely, she breathed into his
ear. Her tones, though low, faltered not, and her eye
was perfectly tearless. “ And now,” she said, ffyour
suit is answered. In that day of extremity, when the
traitor abandoned me for another, on my knees I vowed
that upon him who should bring to me the sweet tidings
that he lived not, I would bestow soul and body, heart
and hand ■, but such task is not for you. Farewell for
ever I”
To say that Camillo was thunderstruck would ill de-
scribe his situation. The blast of the lightning would
have deadened the feelings which in him were excited
to a state of tumultuous frenzy. Love, disappointment,
rage, and revenge, filled his heart with an agony which
almost threatened his dissolution. In the spot where
the stranger had left him, he long strove with the passions
which agitated him, but which, ere he left the shade of
the forest, had subsided into one dark and deadly pur-
pose.
A few days after these transactions, as the young
Count Filippo Durazzo, in company with his beautiful
wife, was entering the public gardens at Vicenza, under
the archway of Palladio, he was suddenly confronted by
a stranger, who studiously placed himself in his way.
The count endeavoured to avoid him, but the stranger
succeeded in rudely thrusting him from his path. Placing