set out for Friuli； your presence will no doubt enable me to endure
Cataneo's；〃 said Massimilla。
Though this would be torment to her lover's soul； he consented with
apparent joy。
If anything can give us a foretaste of what the damned will suffer on
finding themselves so unworthy of God； is it not the state of a young
man； as yet unpolluted； in the presence of a mistress he reveres；
while he still feels on his lips the taste of infidelity； and brings
into the sanctuary of the divinity he worships the tainted atmosphere
of the courtesan？
Baader； who in his lectures eliminated things divine by erotic
imagery； had no doubt observed； like some Catholic writers； the
intimate resemblance between human and heavenly love。
This distress of mind cast a hue of melancholy over the pleasure the
young Venetian felt in his mistress' presence。 A woman's instinct has
amazing aptitude for harmony of feeling； it assumes the hue； it
vibrates to the note suggested by her lover。 The pungent flavor of
coquettish spice is far indeed from spurring affection so much as this
gentle sympathy of tenderness。 The smartness of a coquette too clearly
marks opposition； however transient it is displeasing； but this
intimate comprehension shows a perfect fusion of souls。 The hapless
Emilio was touched by the unspoken divination which led the Duchess to
pity a fault unknown to her。
Massimilla； feeling that her strength lay in the absence of any
sensual side to her love； could allow herself to be expansive； she
boldly and confidently poured out her angelic spirit； she stripped it
bare； just as during that diabolical night； La Tinti had displayed the
soft lines of her body； and her firm； elastic flesh。 In Emilio's eyes
there was as it were a conflict between the saintly love of this white
soul and that of the vehement and muscular Sicilian。
The day was spent in long looks following on deep meditations。 Each of
them gauged the depths of tender feeling； and found it bottomless； a
conviction that brought fond words to their lips。 Modesty； the goddess
who in a moment of forgetfulness with Love； was the mother of
Coquettishness； need not have put her hand before her face as she
looked at these lovers。 As a crowning joy； an orgy of happiness；
Massimilla pillowed Emilio's head in her arms； and now and then
ventured to press her lips to his； but only as a bird dips its beak
into the clear waters of a spring； looking round lest it should be
seen。 Their fancy worked upon this kiss； as a composer develops a
subject by the endless resources of music； and it produced in them
such tumultuous and vibrating echoes as fevered their blood。
The Idea must always be stronger than the Fact； otherwise desire would
be less perfect than satisfaction； and it is in fact the stronger；it
gives birth to wit。 And； indeed； they were perfectly happy； for
enjoyment must always take something off happiness。 Married in heaven
alone； these two lovers admired each other in their purest aspect；
that of two souls incandescent； and united in celestial light； radiant
to the eyes that faith has touched； and； above all； filled with the
rapture which the brush of a Raphael； a Titian； a Murillo； has
depicted； and which those who have ever known it； taste again as they
gaze at those paintings。 Do not such peerless spirits scorn the
coarser joys lavished by the Sicilian singerthe material expression
of that angelic union？
These noble thoughts were in the Prince's mind as he reposed in
heavenly calm on Massimilla's cool； soft； white bosom； under the
gentle radiance of her eyes veiled by long； bright lashes； and he gave
himself up to this dream of an ideal orgy。 At such a moment；
Massimilla was as one of the Virgin visions seen in dreams； which
vanish at cock…crow； but whom we recognize when we find them again in
their realm of glory；in the works of some great painters of Heaven。
In the evening the lovers went to the theatre。 This is the way of
Italian life： love in the morning； music in the evening； the night for
sleep。 How far preferable is this existence to that of a country where
every one expends his lungs and strength in politics； without
contributing any more； single…minded； to the progress of affairs than
a grain of sand can make a cloud of dust。 Liberty； in those strange
lands； consists in the right to squabble over public concerns； to take
care of oneself； to waste time in patriotic undertakings each more
futile than the last； inasmuch as they all weaken that noble； holy
self…concern which is the parent of all great human achievement。 At
Venice； on the contrary； love and its myriad ties； the sweet business
of real happiness； fills up all the time。
In that country； love is so much a matter of course that the Duchess
was regarded as a wonder； for； in spite of her violent attachment to
Emilio； everybody was confident of her immaculate purity。 And women
gave their sincere pity to the poor young man； who was regarded as a
victim to the virtue of his lady…love。 At the same time； no one cared
to blame the Duchess； for in Italy religion is a power as much
respected as love。
Evening after evening Massimilla's box was the first object of every
opera…glass； and each woman would say to her lover； as she studied the
Duchess and her adorer：
〃How far have they got？〃
The lover would examine Emilio； seeking some evidence of success；
would find no expression but that of a pure and dejected passion。 And
throughout the house； as they visited from box to box； the men would
say to the ladies：
〃La Cataneo is not yet Emilio's。〃
〃She is unwise；〃 said the old women。 〃She will tire him out。〃
〃/Forse！/〃 （Perhaps） the young wives would reply； with the solemn
accent that Italians can infuse into that great wordthe answer to
many questions here below。
Some women were indignant； thought the whole thing ill…judged； and
declared that it was a misapprehension of religion to allow it to
smother love。
〃My dear； love that poor Emilio；〃 said the Signora Vulpato to
Massimilla； as they met on the stairs in going out。
〃I do love him with all my might；〃 replied the Duchess。
〃Then why does not he look happy？〃
Massimilla's reply was a little shrug of her shoulders。
We in FranceFrance as the growing mania for English proprieties has
made itcan form no idea of the serious interest taken in this affair
by Venetian society。
Vendramini alone knew Emilio's secret； which was carefully kept
between two men who had； for private pleasure； combined their coats of
arms with the motto /Non amici； frates/。
The opening night of the opera season is an event at Venice； as in
every capital in Italy。 The /Fenice/ was crowded。
The five hours of the night that are spent at the theatre fill so
important a place in Italian life that it is well to give an account
of the customs that have risen from this manner of spending time。
The boxes in Italy are unlike those of any other country； inasmuch as
that elsewhere the women go to be seen； and that Italian ladies do not
care to make a show of themselves。 Each box is long and narrow；
sloping at an angle to the front and to the passage behind。 On each
side is a sofa； and at the end stand two armchairs； one for the
mistress of the box； and the other for a lady friend when she brings
one； which she rarely does。 Each lady is in fact too much engaged in
her own box to call on others； or to wish to see them； also no one
cares to introduce a rival。 An Italian woman almost always reigns
alone in her box； the mothers are not the slaves of their daughters；
the daughters have no mother on their hands； thus there are no
children； no relations to watch and censure and bore； or cut into a
conversation。
In front every box is draped in the same way； with the same silk： from
the cornice hang curtains； also all to match； and these remain drawn
when the family to whom the box belongs is in mourning。 With very few
exceptions； and those only at Milan； there is no light inside the box；
they are illuminated only from the stage； and from a not very
brilliant hanging lustre which； in spite of protests； has been
introduced into the house in some towns； still； screened by the
curtains； they are never very light； and their arrangement leaves the
back of the box so dark that it is very difficult to see what is going
on。
The boxes； large enough to accommodate eight or ten persons； are
decorated with handsome silks； the ceilings are painted and ornamented
in light and pleasing colors； the woodwork is gilt。 Ices and sorbets
are served there； and sweetmeats； for only the plebeian classes ever
have a serious meal。 Each box is freehold property； and of
considerable value； some are estimated at as much as thirty thousand
lire； the Litta family at Milan own three adjoining。 These facts
sufficiently indicate the importance attributed to this incident of
fashionable life。
Conversation reigns supreme in this little apartment； which Stendhal；
one of the most ingenious of modern writers； and a keen student of
Italian manners； has called a boudoir with a window opening on to a
pit。 The music and the spectacle are in fact purely accessory； the
real interest of the evening is in the social meeting there； the all…
important trivialities of love that are discussed； the assignations
held； the anecdotes and gossip that creep in。 The theatre is an
inexpensive meeting…place for a whole society which is content and
amused with studying itself。
The men who are admitted take their seats on one of the sofas； in the
order of their arrival。 The first comer naturally is next to the
mistress of the box； but when both seats are full； if another visitor
comes in； the one who has sat longest rises； takes his leave and
departs。 All move up one place； and so each in turn is next the
sovereign。
This futile gossip； or serious colloquy； these elegant trivialities of
Italian life； inevitably imply some general intimacy。 The lady may be
in full dress or not； as she pleases。 She is so completely at home
that a stranger who has been received in her box may call on her next
day at her residence。 The foreign visitor cannot at first understand
this life of idle wit； this /dolce far niente/