vendetta- 第9部分

of　his　wife　were　so　frugal；　so　tranquil；　that　their　modest　fortune

sufficed　for　all　their　wants。　To　them；　their　daughter　Ginevra　was　more

precious　than　the　wealth　of　the　whole　world。　When；　therefore；　in　May；

1814；　the　Baron　di　Piombo　resigned　his　office；　dismissed　his　crowd　of

servants；　and　closed　his　stable　door；　Ginevra；　quiet；　simple　and

unpretending　like　her　parents；　saw　nothing　to　regret　in　the　change。

Like　all　great　souls；　she　found　her　luxury　in　strength　of　feeling；　and

derived　her　happiness　from　quietness　and　work。　These　three　beings

loved　each　other　too　well　for　the　externals　of　existence　to　be　of

value　in　their　eyes。



Often；　and　especially　after　the　second　dreadful　fall　of　Napoleon；

Bartolomeo　and　his　wife　passed　delightful　evenings　alone　with　their

daughter；　listening　while　she　sang　and　played。　To　them　there　was　a

vast　secret　pleasure　in　the　presence；　in　the　slightest　word　of　that

child；　their　eyes　followed　her　with　tender　anxiety；　they　heard　her

step　in　the　court…yard；　lightly　as　she　trod。　Like　lovers；　the　three

would　often　sit　silently　together；　understanding　thus；　better　than　by

speech；　the　eloquence　of　their　souls。　This　profound　sentiment；　the

life　itself　of　the　two　old　people；　animated　their　every　thought。　Here

were　not　three　existences；　but　one；one　only；　which；　like　the　flame

on　the　hearth；　divided　itself　into　three　tongues　of　fire。　If；

occasionally；　some　memory　of　Napoleon's　benefits　and　misfortunes；　if

the　public　events　of　the　moment　distracted　the　minds　of　the　old　people

from　this　source　of　their　constant　solicitude；　they　could　always　talk

of　those　interests　without　affecting　their　community　of　thought；　for

Ginevra　shared　their　political　passions。　What　more　natural；　therefore；

than　the　ardor　with　which　they　found　a　refuge　in　the　heart　of　their

only　child？



Until　now　the　occupations　of　public　life　had　absorbed　the　energy　of

the　Baron　di　Piombo；　but　after　leaving　those　employments　he　felt　the

need　of　casting　that　energy　into　the　last　sentiment　that　remained　to

him。　Apart　from　the　ties　of　parentage；　there　may　have　been；　unknown　to

these　three　despotic　souls；　another　powerful　reason　for　the　intensity

of　their　reciprocal　love：　it　was　love　undivided。　Ginevra's　whole　heart

belonged　to　her　father；　as　Piombo's　whole　heart　belonged　to　his　child；

and　if　it　be　true　that　we　are　bound　to　one　another　more　by　our　defects

than　by　our　virtues；　Ginevra　echoed　in　a　marvellous　manner　the

passions　of　her　father。　There　lay　the　sole　imperfection　of　this　triple

life。　Ginevra　was　born　unyielding　of　will；　vindictive；　and　passionate；

like　her　father　in　his　youth。



The　Corsican　had　taken　pleasure　in　developing　these　savage　sentiments

in　the　heart　of　his　daughter；　precisely　as　a　lion　teaches　the　lion…

cubs　to　spring　upon　their　prey。　But　this　apprenticeship　to　vengeance

having　no　means　of　action　in　their　family　life；　it　came　to　pass　that

Ginevra　turned　the　principle　against　her　father；　as　a　child　she

forgave　him　nothing；　and　he　was　forced　to　yield　to　her。　Piombo　saw

nothing　more　than　childish　nonsense　in　these　fictitious　quarrels；　but

the　child　was　all　the　while　acquiring　a　habit　of　ruling　her　parents。

In　the　midst；　however；　of　the　tempests　which　the　father　was　fond　of

exciting；　a　look；　a　word　of　tenderness；　sufficed　to　pacify　their　angry

souls；　and　often　they　were　never　so　near　to　a　kiss　as　when　they　were

threatening　each　other　vehemently。



Nevertheless；　for　the　last　five　years；　Ginevra；　grown　wiser　than　her

father；　avoided　such　scenes。　Her　faithfulness；　her　devotion；　the　love

which　filled　her　every　thought；　and　her　admirable　good　sense　had　got

the　better　of　her　temper。　And　yet；　for　all　that；　a　very　great　evil　had

resulted　from　her　training；　Ginevra　lived　with　her　father　and　mother

on　the　footing　of　an　equality　which　is　always　dangerous。



Piombo　and　his　wife；　persons　without　education；　had　allowed　Ginevra　to

study　as　she　pleased。　Following　her　caprices　as　a　young　girl；　she　had

studied　all　things　for　a　time；　and　then　abandoned　them；taking　up　and

leaving　each　train　of　thought　at　will；　until；　at　last；　painting　had

proved　to　be　her　dominant　passion。　Ginevra　would　have　made　a　noble

woman　had　her　mother　been　capable　of　guiding　her　studies；　of

enlightening　her　mind；　and　bringing　into　harmony　her　gifts　of　nature；

her　defects　came　from　the　fatal　education　which　the　old　Corsican　had

found　delight　in　giving　her。



After　marching　up　and　down　the　room　for　some　time；　Piombo　rang　the

bell；　a　servant　entered。



〃Go　and　meet　Mademoiselle　Ginevra；〃　said　his　master。



〃I　always　regret　our　carriage　on　her　account；〃　remarked　the　baroness。



〃She　said　she　did　not　want　one；〃　replied　Piombo；　looking　at　his　wife；

who；　accustomed　for　forty　years　to　habits　of　obedience；　lowered　her

eyes　and　said　no　more。



Already　a　septuagenarian；　tall；　withered；　pale；　and　wrinkled；　the

baroness　exactly　resembled　those　old　women　whom　Schnetz　puts　into　the

Italian　scenes　of　his　〃genre〃　pictures。　She　was　so　habitually　silent

that　she　might　have　been　taken　for　another　Mrs。　Shandy；　but；

occasionally；　a　word；　look；　or　gesture　betrayed　that　her　feelings

still　retained　all　the　vigor　and　the　freshness　of　their　youth。　Her

dress；　devoid　of　coquetry；　was　often　in　bad　taste。　She　usually　sat

passive；　buried　in　a　low　sofa；　like　a　Sultana　Valide；　awaiting　or

admiring　her　Ginevra；　her　pride；　her　life。　The　beauty；　toilet；　and

grace　of　her　daughter　seemed　to　have　become　her　own。　All　was　well　with

her　if　Ginevra　was　happy。　Her　hair　was　white；　and　a　few　strands　only

were　seen　above　her　white　and　wrinkled　forehead；　or　beside　her　hollow

cheeks。



〃It　is　now　fifteen　days；〃　she　said；　〃since　Ginevra　made　a　practice　of

being　late。〃



〃Jean　is　so　slow！〃　cried　the　impatient　old　man；　buttoning　up　his　blue

coat　and　seizing　his　hat；　which　he　dashed　upon　his　head　as　he　took　his

cane　and　departed。



〃You　will　not　get　far；〃　said　his　wife；　calling　after　him。



As　she　spoke；　the　porte…cochere　was　opened　and　shut；　and　the　old

mother　heard　the　steps　of　her　Ginevra　in　the　court…yard。　Bartolomeo

almost　instantly　reappeared；　carrying　his　daughter；　who　struggled　in

his　arms。







CHAPTER　IV



LOVE



〃Here　she　is；　my　Ginevra；　Ginevrettina；　Ginevrola；　mia　Ginevra　bella！〃

cried　the　old　man。



〃Oh；　father；　you　hurt　me！〃



Instantly　Ginevra　was　put　down　with　an　air　of　respect。　She　nodded　her

head　with　a　graceful　movement　at　her　mother；　who　was　frightened　by　her

cry；　as　if　to　say；　〃Don't　be　alarmed；　it　was　only　a　trick　to　get

away。〃



The　pale；　wan　face　of　the　baroness　recovered　its　usual　tones；　and　even

assumed　a　look　of　gayety。　Piombo　rubbed　his　hands　violently；with　him

the　surest　symptom　of　joy；　he　had　taken　to　this　habit　at　court　when　he

saw　Napoleon　becoming　angry　with　those　of　his　generals　and　ministers

who　served　him　ill　or　committed　blunders。　When；　as　now；　the　muscles　of

his　face　relaxed；　every　wrinkle　on　his　forehead　expressed　benevolence。

These　two　old　people　presented　at　this　moment　precisely　the　aspect　of

a　drooping　plant　to　which　a　little　water　has　given　fresh　life　after

long　dryness。



〃Now；　to　dinner！　to　dinner！〃　cried　the　baron；　offering　his　large　hand

to　his　daughter；　whom　he　called　〃Signora　Piombellina；〃another

symptom　of　gayety；　to　which　Ginevra　replied　by　a　smile。



〃Ah　ca！〃　said　Piombo；　as　they　left　the　table；　〃your　mother　has　called

my　attention　to　the　fact　that　for　some　weeks　you　have　stayed　much

longer　than　usual　at　the　studio。　It　seems　that　painting　is　more　to　you

than　your　parents〃



〃Oh；　father！〃



〃Ginevra　is　preparing　some　surprise　for　us；　I　think；〃　said　the　mother。



〃A　picture　of　your　own！　will　you　bring　us　that？〃　cried　the　Corsican；

clapping　his　hands。



〃Yes；　I　am　very　much　occupied　at　the　studio；〃　replied　Ginevra；　rather

slowly。



〃What　is　the　matter；　Ginevra？　You　are　turning　pale！〃　cried　her　mother。



〃No！〃　exclaimed　the　young　girl　in　a　tone　of　resolution；〃no！　it　shall

never　be　said　that　Ginevra　Piombo　acted　a　lie。〃



Hearing　this　singular　exclamation；　Piombo　and　his　wife　looked　at　their

daughter　in　astonishment。



〃I　love　a　young　man；〃　she　added；　in　a　voice　of　emotion。



Then；　not　venturing　to　look　at　her　parents；　she　lowered　her　large

eyelids　as　if　to　veil　the　fire　of　her　eyes。



〃Is　he　a　prince？〃　asked　her　father；　ironically；　in　a　tone　of　voice

which　made　the　mother　quail。



〃No；　father；〃　she　said；　gently；　〃he　is　a　young　man　without　fortune。〃



〃Is　he　very　handsome？〃



〃He　is　very　unfortunate。〃



〃What　is　he？〃



〃Labedoyere's　comrade；　he　was　proscribed；　without　a　refuge；　Servin

concealed　him；　and〃



〃Servin　is　a　good　fellow；　who　has　done　well；〃　cried　Piombo；　〃but　you；

my　daughter；　you　do　wrong　to　love　any　man；　except　your　father。〃



〃It　does　not　depend　on　me　to　love；　or　not　to　love；〃　replied　Ginevra；

still　gently。



〃I　flattered　myself；〃　continued　her　father；　〃that　my　Ginevr