here。 Geneva is anxious to do nothing to displease the Holy Alliance
to which it owes its independence。 /Our/ part is not to ruffle foreign
courts； there are many foreigners here； Russians and English。〃
〃Even some Gevenese？〃
〃Yes； monsieur； our lake is so fine！ Lord Byron lived here about seven
years at the Villa Diodati； which every one goes to see now； like
Coppet and Ferney。〃
〃You cannot tell me whether within a week or so a bookseller from
Milan has come with his wifenamed Lamporani； one of the leaders of
the last revolution？〃
〃I could easily find out by going to the Foreigners' Club；〃 said the
jeweler。
Rodolphe's first walk was very naturally to the Villa Diodati； the
residence of Lord Byron； whose recent death added to its
attractiveness： for is not death the consecration of genius？
The road to Eaux…Vives follows the shore of the lake； and； like all
the roads in Switzerland； is very narrow； in some spots； in
consequence of the configuration of the hilly ground； there is
scarcely space for two carriages to pass each other。
At a few yards from the Jeanrenauds' house； which he was approaching
without knowing it； Rodolphe heard the sound of a carriage behind him；
and； finding himself in a sunk road； he climbed to the top of a rock
to leave the road free。 Of course he looked at the approaching
carriagean elegant English phaeton； with a splendid pair of English
horses。 He felt quite dizzy as he beheld in this carriage Francesca；
beautifully dressed； by the side of an old lady as hard as a cameo。 A
servant blazing with gold lace stood behind。 Francesca recognized
Rodolphe； and smiled at seeing him like a statue on a pedestal。 The
carriage； which the lover followed with his eyes as he climbed the
hill； turned in at the gate of a country house； towards which he ran。
〃Who lives here？〃 he asked the gardener。
〃Prince and Princess Colonna； and Prince and Princess Gandolphini。〃
〃Have they not just driven in？〃
〃Yes； sir。〃
In that instant a veil fell from Rodolphe's eyes； he saw clearly the
meaning of the past。
〃If only this is her last piece of trickery！〃 thought the thunder…
struck lover to himself。
He trembled lest he should have been the plaything of a whim； for he
had heard what a /capriccio/ might mean in an Italian。 But what a
crime had he committed in the eyes of a womanin accepting a born
princess as a citizen's wife！ in believing that a daughter of one of
the most illustrious houses of the Middle Ages was the wife of a
bookseller！ The consciousness of his blunders increased Rodolphe's
desire to know whether he would be ignored and repelled。 He asked for
Prince Gandolphini； sending in his card； and was immediately received
by the false Lamparini； who came forward to meet him； welcomed him
with the best possible grace； and took him to walk on a terrace whence
there was a view of Geneva； the Jura； the hills covered with villas；
and below them a wide expanse of the lake。
〃My wife is faithful to the lakes； you see；〃 he remarked； after
pointing out the details to his visitor。 〃We have a sort of concert
this evening；〃 he added； as they returned to the splendid Villa
Jeanrenaud。 〃I hope you will do me and the Princess the pleasure of
seeing you。 Two months of poverty endured in intimacy are equal to
years of friendship。〃
Though he was consumed by curiosity； Rodolphe dared not ask to see the
Princess； he slowly made his way back to Eaux…Vives； looking forward
to the evening。 In a few hours his passion； great as it had already
been； was augmented by his anxiety and by suspense as to future
events。 He now understood the necessity for making himself famous；
that he might some day find himself； socially speaking； on a level
with his idol。 In his eyes Francesca was made really great by the
simplicity and ease of her conduct at Gersau。 Princess Colonna's
haughtiness； so evidently natural to her； alarmed Rodolphe； who would
find enemies in Francesca's father and motherat least so he might
expect； and the secrecy which Princess Gandolphini had so strictly
enjoined on him now struck him as a wonderful proof of affection。 By
not choosing to compromise the future； had she not confessed that she
loved him？
At last nine o'clock struck； Rodolphe could get into a carriage and
say with an emotion that is very intelligible； 〃To the Villa
Jeanrenaudto Prince Gandolphini's。〃
At last he saw Francesca； but without being seen by her。 The Princess
was standing quite near the piano。 Her beautiful hair； so thick and
long； was bound with a golden fillet。 Her face； in the light of wax
candles； had the brilliant pallor peculiar to Italians； and which
looks its best only by artificial light。 She was in full evening
dress； showing her fascinating shoulders； the figure of a girl and the
arms of an antique statue。 Her sublime beauty was beyond all possible
rivalry； though there were some charming women of Geneva； and other
Italians； among them the dazzling and illustrious Princess Varese； and
the famous singer Tinti； who was at that moment singing。
Rodolphe； leaning against the door…post； looked at the Princess；
turning on her the fixed； tenacious； attracting gaze； charged with the
full； insistent will which is concentrated in the feeling called
desire； and thus assumes the nature of a vehement command。 Did the
flame of that gaze reach Francesca？ Was Francesca expecting each
instant to see Rodolphe？ In a few minutes she stole a glance at the
door； as though magnetized by this current of love； and her eyes；
without reserve； looked deep into Rodolphe's。 A slight thrill quivered
through that superb face and beautiful body； the shock to her spirit
reacted： Francesca blushed！ Rodolphe felt a whole life in this
exchange of looks； so swift that it can only be compared to a
lightning flash。 But to what could his happiness compare？ He was
loved。 The lofty Princess； in the midst of her world； in this handsome
villa； kept the pledge given by the disguised exile； the capricious
beauty of Bergmanns' lodgings。 The intoxication of such a moment
enslaves a man for life！ A faint smile； refined and subtle； candid and
triumphant； curled Princess Gandolphini's lips； and at a moment when
she did not feel herself observed she looked at Rodolphe with an
expression which seemed to ask his pardon for having deceived him as
to her rank。
When the song was ended Rodolphe could make his way to the Prince； who
graciously led him to his wife。 Rodolphe went through the ceremonial
of a formal introduction to Princess and Prince Colonna； and to
Francesca。 When this was over； the Princess had to take part in the
famous quartette； /Mi manca la voce/； which was sung by her with
Tinti； with the famous tenor Genovese； and with a well…known Italian
Prince then in exile； whose voice； if he had not been a Prince； would
have made him one of the Princes of Art。
〃Take that seat；〃 said Francesca to Rodolphe； pointing to her own
chair。 〃/Oime/！ I think there is some mistake in my name； I have for
the last minute been Princess Rodolphini。〃
It was said with the artless grace which revived； in this avowal
hidden beneath a jest； the happy days at Gersau。 Rodolphe reveled in
the exquisite sensation of listening to the voice of the woman he
adored； while sitting so close to her that one cheek was almost
touched by the stuff of her dress and the gauze of her scarf。 But
when； at such a moment； /Mi manca la voce/ is being sung； and by the
finest voices in Italy； it is easy to understand what it was that
brought the tears to Rodolphe's eyes。
In love； as perhaps in all else； there are certain circumstances；
trivial in themselves； but the outcome of a thousand little previous
incidents； of which the importance is immense； as an epitome of the
past and as a link with the future。 A hundred times already we have
felt the preciousness of the one we love； but a triflethe perfect
touch of two souls united during a walk perhaps by a single word； by
some unlooked…for proof of affection； will carry the feeling to its
supremest pitch。 In short； to express this truth by an image which has
been pre…eminently successful from the earliest ages of the world；
there are in a long chain points of attachment needed where the
cohesion is stronger than in the intermediate loops of rings。 This
recognition between Rodolphe and Francesca； at this party； in the face
of the world； was one of those intense moments which join the future
to the past； and rivet a real attachment more deeply in the heart。 It
was perhaps of these incidental rivets that Bossuet spoke when he
compared to them the rarity of happy moments in our liveshe who had
such a living and secret experience of love。
Next to the pleasure of admiring the woman we love； comes that of
seeing her admired by every one else。 Rodolphe was enjoying both at
once。 Love is a treasury of memories； and though Rodolphe's was
already full； he added to it pearls of great price； smiles shed aside
for him alone； stolen glances； tones in her singing which Francesca
addressed to him alone； but which made Tinti pale with jealousy； they
were so much applauded。 All his strength of desire； the special
expression of his soul； was thrown over the beautiful Roman； who
became unchangeably the beginning and the end of all his thoughts and
actions。 Rodolphe loved as every woman may dream of being loved； with
a force； a constancy； a tenacity； which made Francesca the very
substance of his heart； he felt her mingling with his blood as purer
blood； with his soul as a more perfect soul； she would henceforth
underlie the least efforts of his life as the golden sand of the
Mediterranean lies beneath the waves。 In short； Rodolphe's lightest
aspiration was now a living hope。
At the end of a few days； Francesca understood this boundless love；
but it was so natural； and so perfectly shared by her； that it did not
surprise her。 She was worthy of it。
〃What is there that is strange？〃 said she to Rodolphe； as they walked
on the garden terrace； when he had been betrayed into one of those
outbursts of conceit which come so naturally to Frenchmen in the
expression of their feelings〃what is extraordinary in the fact of
your loving a young an