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A Creature of the Night

CHAPTER VII. AT THE TEATRO EZZELINO

Word Count: 2864    |    Released on: 17/11/2017

an ?olian harp, to the sighing wind vibrate with every breath of passion that passes over them--organizations which take their colour, the

mmand over myself. But, as I said before, superstition is in every one, and waxes or wanes according to their surroundings; so the terrors of childish tales, which had been half-forgotten in the bustle of worldly life, now came upon my soul with full force in this haunted city of Verona. The burial-ground, the ghostly room, th

glancing at the paper I saw that the opera for the night was "Lucrezia Borgia;" and this name gave me a renewed sensation of horror. The lady of the sepulchre had taken in my imagination the semblance of Ferrara's Duchess, and the memory of the terrible daughter of Pope Alexander seemed never to leave me. She had come from the graveyard, she had supped in the fatal chamber, s

y ideas, so I made an excellent dinner, drank some Asti Spumati, an agreeable win

e a burning star throbbing in the deep heart of the sky, and under the peaceful heavens the weather-worn red roofs and grey walls of antique Verona mellowed to warm loveliness in the twilight shadows. Beautiful as it was, however, wi

hat it has a delightfully cool appearance; nevertheless, what with the warmth of the season without, and the glaring heat of the gas within, I felt unpleasantly hot. The gallery and stalls were crowded, bu

e in a sufficiently good style, and the pictured curtain arose on the well-known Venetian scene which I had so often beheld. The chorus, in their heterogeneous costumes of no known age, wandered about in their usual aimless fashion, shouted their approval

crezia being so small, their duets, in point of physical appearance, were sufficiently ridiculous; but as they sang well together, their rendering of the characters, artistically speaking, was enjoyable. The chorus entered and discovered Lucrezia with Genaro; the prima-donna defied them all with the look and ways of a cross child; there was the usual dramatic chorus, and the curtain fell on the prologue wi

celebrated duet with Alfonso, they were loud in their expressions of disapproval concerning her appearance. The music of this part o

d, but the appearanc

ld you? Donna Lucrezia

eodoro in an astonished to

the box

the Contes

w of a box, the fourth or fifth from the stage. She was talking to three gentlemen, and her face was turned away so that I co

d palace, and she was the woman seated in the shadow of the box, talking idly as though she had no terrible crime to burden her conscience. If I could only see her face I would then recognise her; but, as if she had some presentiment of danger, she persistently looked everywhere

was the murderess of Pallanza, I listened breathlessl

wering his opera-glass, "and she has lived since a

ps to reside again at

She must become a g

t of Lucrezia Borgia! Why

and in spite of her money. Corpo di Bacco!

evil

that's wicked. I do not

o! you migh

money!

officers had said she was evidently a nyctalopyst, and could see in the dark, which accounted at once for the unerring way in which she had threaded the dark streets, and was also the reason that she now remained secluded in the shad

ir was thick with tobacco-smoke there was a clatter of vivacious voices, and the great doors of the theatre were thrown wide open to admit the fresh night air into the overpoweringly hot atmosphere. Being wr

you, Signor H

ou here! I a

; "you are not so surprised as I am. I thought you were in your foggy island, and behold

much about Italy and the Italians; but the fact is, my friend the Marchese only now enters into this

, and on being introduced to our household we had taken a great fancy to one another. Even in those days, perhaps as a premonitory symptom of my operatic leanings, I was mad on all things Italian, and discoursed about art, raved of Cimabue and Titian, and quoted Dante, Ariosto, and Alfieri until every one of my friends were, I am sure, heartily wearied of my enthusiasm. Beltrami appeared, and feeling flattered by my great admiration for his cou

wo English sentences, that they usually ended by pardoning him; nevertheless the Marchese found that if he wanted to get on in society he would have t

contrast, and when he returned to Italy I was sorry to see the last of him. I promised to some day visit him at his palazzo in Florence, and fully intended to do so before leaving Italy; but here was Verona, and here, by th

to study singing, and the circumstances which had led me to Verona, to all of which Be

s you see, I serve the King and am stationed in his dismal pa

you mean by making things pleasant. I

mi! too much

y is worse; but tell me how hav

am as poor as ever, bu

Is your uncle, t

hese cynically. "No, he still lives in the hope to succ

ratulat

s in the theatre to-night. I am engaged to marry her, and as she ta

ntessa Morone, and if I went to Beltrami

uigi, because--because you se

g a very weak one, Beltrami laughed, and, slipping

e my friend. Signora Morone will be deli

!" I exclaimed

n Dieu! is she not beautiful? You shall speak th

rone had anything to do with the burial-ground episode, that I only replied to Beltr

ends when at the theatre. I heard the loud chatter of many voices as Beltrami opened the door, and there, standing under the glare of the gas-lamp, with the wicked smile on her lips, the pearls i

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