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,1. a. TUKNEK, EDITOR.|
A GLUME I.
Gmin.il.
FOR TIIE INDEPENDENT PRESS.
VIRTUE.
The eye of men, whoe’er ho be, is forced
By Virtue's beauty to admire her looks
Os loveliness. Both good and bad admire.
The good admire and feel its warm embrace
As thrillingly as does the groom his bride’s,
l'inding all peace and living ecstacy.
T he bad admire it; but they feel a pang.
An aching void within their hearts which tells
The jewel is not there, but sparkles bright
gy tar above their ken intangible
That their pollution cannot mar its Hash,
put yet, thou man of vicious heart, know this.
That to the mount where Virtue sits enthroned
A oath, though steep and rugged, leads its way.
Oh! child of Vice, that rugged way with speed
pursue,
And know thy toil shall be rewarded well.
The prize, indeed, is worth a struggle hard;
Ter not the gem alone shall be thy pay :
Thy toil shall rest its faintness on the lap
Os pure Content and everlasting Bliss.
Bu: Vice will still pursue thee in the way,
And flashing with her flickering, lurid glare
TV ill sav, “Lo I am Virtue, follow me,
And I will lead to Peace and Joy supreme.”
But oh! heed not the liar's tongue; for she
Will lead thee in her tortuous, cunning wake
Until thou'rt lost in hogs, and fens, and swamps
Os folly, sin, and black despair immense;
And then her lamp will she extinguish there
By plunging it beneath the wave of filth
1-Yom v. inch she drew the oil to give her light,
And leave thee to lament with wail and groan,
With horrid veil, and bitter howl of wo,
That thou forsookd’st the path that leads to Peace,
And closed'st the road to black Despair and Death.
January, ISIS. L '
% (T;tlf.
o
for the independent press.
BIANCA CAPPELLO.
\ Tale of Venice in the 16th Century.
The gay gondola of the lady Bian
ca glided noiselessly away from the
door of the Palazzo Cappelli, and me
andered along the watery streets oi
Venice, Many a gallant gondolier
brought liis bark close up to that of
the heiress of the House of Cappello, to
i ,av court at the shrine of the most
brilliant beauty of the queen city ol
the seas. Not a heart in all the gay
throng of young noblemen and hand
some cavaliers but acknowledged itself
conquered by the dazzling queen of
beauty. The heart of the haughty old
Bartollommeo Cappello, amid all its
pride of blood, and noble connections,
regarded with more than ordinary emo
tion the crowd of young men of high
and noble birth, which thronged the
presence of his daughter. More assid
uous to win the smiles of Bianca than
all the rest, was Marco Daponte, son
of the reigning Doge Nicolo, and heir
apparent to his father’s crown.
The gondola of many a young no
bleman of Venice bad joined that of
the youthful princess, and on they
glided over the smooth surface of the
unrippled waters that poured along
under one of the arches of the Ponte
dei Sospiri, which had just then been
finished, and whose superb architec
ture challenged the admiration of eve
ry beholder.
But see! just - as Bianca’s gondola
emerges from under the bridge, the
hand of a young man from above
lightly throws a rich bouquetof flowers
into her bark, and the lady, snatching
it uj) in her fairy hand, presses it to
her ruby lips. ,Ah! indiscreet Bian
ca !
At this mark of favor to the' voting
man who threw the flowers, a pang of
jealousy shot through the heart of
every one of Bianca’s attendants. Mar
ne bit his lip in isilent rage, and on old
Oappello’s wrinkled brow gathered a
scowl of anger, as his own gondola
followed the light squadron ahead
Not a word was spoken save by Bian
ca, who spoke in eqstacv of the beau
ty of the flowers which she lrad re
ceived. Seeing that this made matters
worse, she ceased to speak, and every
one relapsed into a moody silence.
Pietro Buouaventura,the young
man who dropped the flowers to Bi
anca, continued his walk across the
bridge, and proceeded to tlje banking
bouse pf Ills wealthy mat'yty'd uncle,
Carlo D’Alviano, where Wo was ehi
ployed as a subordinate in office, lie
bad been the heir apparent of the im
mense \vcalt lr of his'uncle, and was for
some time a favored suitor
favored by fier father, a« lie was .still
favored by herself.. But by an*
old Carlo took it into hiklmad to'mfr
% Ulccklii |o«mal:--|eW(5) tofittratert, flifc, W Central IfKleltatir.
ry .a young wife, and the prospects ol
the heir apparent made way for those
of an heir, or heirs, presumptive. Then
it was that Bartollommeo forbade the
now poverty-stricken and despised Pie
tro to enter his house. And lie was
the more particular in doing so, as
Marco, the son of the Doge, was also
offering up his heart a saqrihee upon
the shrine of Bianca’s beauty.
As has been intimated, the many op
portunities which Pietro had had with
Bianca before the marriage of his un
cle had snatched away his prospects
for wealth, had not been in vain. The
blind god had done his work, and the
heiress of the house of Cappello had
lavished her heart wholly and solely
upon the lover who was now only a
clerk in his uncle’s establishment, And
since licr lover could rot see her in
the house of her parent, they had kept
up their interviews with each other
through the agency of Bianca s govern
ess, Beatrice.
Could the little boat in which the
heiress was riding when she was intro
duced to the reader have spoken, it
might have told many a tale of the
wanderings by moon-light of its mis
tress and her favorite suitor.
Soon after the adventure at the
bridge, the oars of the gondola in which
was seated Marco Daponte, ceased for
awhile to strike the water, and his bark
dropped behind the little flotilla in
company with that of Bartollommeo
Cappello.
“Will Signor Cappello object to my
lashing my gondola to his,” said Mar
co, “while I for a short time take my
seat by his side, as I have something
of importance to say to him?'’
“I shall be but too happy to receive
the honor which you propose,” replied
Cappello with a low bow.
In an instant, Marco was by Cappel
lo’s side.
“Signor Cappello,” said he in a low
voice, low enough to be drowned by the
splashing oars to the ears of those who
rowed the gondola, “Signor Cappello,
I am enamored of your daughter Bian
ca, and I hope from my birth and my
connections that I shall not seek in
vain for'your consent to wed the fair
lady. lam happy to have it in my
power to assure you that my father,
the Doge, approves of my choice, and
is more than willing to ally his house
by marriage with one of so much fame
and power as yours. Give me leave,
good Signor, to go at once, when I
have finished my interview with you,
and see the lady Bianca upon the sub
ject.”
“I am but too proud,” answered
Cappello, “to acknowledge Marco Da
ponte as the suitor of my daughter. I
could not bestow her upon one more
worthy. And the more speedily the
alliance is brought about the better.”
As Bartollemmeo Cappello spoke
these words, he.could not conceal the
joy he felt at the prospect of his daugh
ter’s becoming the wife of the future
Doge of Venice.
No more passed between him and
Marco, who, as the above conversation
was finished, retired again to his own
gondola unlashed it from that of Cap
pello, and left the old man to cogitate
upon the good luck, as he considered
it, which had just paid him a visit.
When Bianca returned from her ex
cursion to the Pelazzo Cappelli, upon
examining the bouquet which had been
thrown her, more closely, she found
within it a note which read as follows:
“Dearcst Bianca:—We must fly Ven
ice. To-morrow night, when the moon
is high in the heavens, my gondola
shall be at your door, and we must go
hence for Florence. Marco has his
spies watching you and me, and if we
do not quit the city soon, all our plans
of hope and love will be frustrated.'—
W hile he‘has had a system of espion
age upon us, my spies have also watch
ed him, and hence I know he intends
to seelqjour father’s consent to wed
you, and have the nuptial knot tied
whether you will it or no.
Pietro.”
Scarcely had Bianca time to com
pose herself after reading this note,
when she was called upon by Marco,
who had just hod the conversation with
her father. , .A gain he urged his love,
and told the fair young girl that he
had obtained her father’s consent to
wed her, lie pleaded his. cause long
and earnestly. Al3agt he said •
• “Jfyon, really love Pietro, as you
say yon do, then for his sake accede
tq my propositipp,-: pj- y.pUj favorel
EATONTON, GA., SATURDAY, AUGUST 5, 1854.
lover shall die. It will be in vain he
shall seek to escape the wrath of two
such houses as that of m3" father and
yours. You know well the mind of
your father Bartollommeo; and the
rage of the reigning Doge of Venice is
no more easily appeased than that of
Cappello.”
“Marco,” replied Bianca, “if youreal
ly love me, as you say you do, prove
your love by leaving me, and never
seeking again to win mj r hand. You
call upon me to prove my love for Pie
tro by making a sacrifice for his safety,
and now I call upon you to prove your
love for me by making a sacrifice for
my happiness. At any rate my heart
is Pietro’s and my hand shall go with
it,”
“Bianca,” continued Marco, “I have
offered 3*oll my love and my crown,
and }' ou have rbjcctcd both for a vile
plebian. Henceforth you have my
hate instead of my love, and Pietro
Buonaventura shall feel 1113'’ ven
geance.”
“We can both die together, Pietro
and I,” said Bianca, as Marco left the
Pelazzo.
The quick eye of the rejected suitor
had discovered lying upon a table a
note with the name of Pietro append
ed. Shdy and stealthily he put it in
his pocket, before he got ready to
leave. As he went away from the
house, he read the contents of the note
which I have already set forth.
“An elopement, eh !” said he, as he
read the lines. “I must see Bianca’s
father to-morrow, and inform him of
what Pietro designs to do.”
As lie uttered these words, a gondo
la shot out from a narrow ally, be
neath towering walls whose shadows
had kept the little bark invisible. A
bright. Damascus blade gleamed in the
moon-beams.
“Draw, Marco, draw!” said a voice
which Marco recognized to be Pietro’s.
The person addressed drew his blade,
but in the hurry and excitement of his
surprise, his foot tripped, and he fell
down. In a moment Pietro bestrode
him.
“I might justly take your life, Mar
co, as you are seeking mine, but I will
not. I will merely gag you and con
vey you hence to a place of confine
ment, where you shall lodge until Bi
anca and myself have cleared the city
of Venice, and tnen you shall be set at
liberty.”
Accordingly Marco, by direction of
Pietro, was borne away, and put in
close confinement, with the order that
he should be free on the day after Pie
tro had left Venice,
The disappearance of Marco had
caused the Doge, his father, much un
easiness. lie did not know hut that
some of the assassins with which Ven
ice abounded, had slain his son. The
city was in an uproar, and the officers
of state with their assistants thronged
the watery streets, endeavoring to dis
cover the supposed assassin. Accord
ingly, on the next night, it was with
the chances fearfully against him that
Pietro sat out with the intention of
bearing his lady-love to the city of
Florence. lie disguised himself as one
of the officers of the Doge, and seemed
as busily engaged on the patrol as the
most vigilant. His gondola hovered
around the Pelazzo Cappelli, and when
no one else was near, at dead of night.
his little bark approached the chamber
of Bianca. A fairy form which had
been on the watch for Pietro’s appear,
ancc glided out of the door into his
gondola. Quickly infolding Bianca
under a kind of cloak which he wore,
Pietro ordered the oarsmen to pull
away, and his little bark shot like an
arrow from the Pelezzo Cappelli.
Soon he encountered the night watch,
but hia-uniform and his giving the
pass-word deceived them, and away he
and his treasure wended over the wat
ers. A long and tedious row carried
them without the limits of the city,
and they exchanged their gondola for
a larger bark,
The next day Marco was liberated,
and told his tale to the Doge and to
Bartollommeo. Disappointed in his
ambitious expectations of an alliance
with the regal blood of Venice the
revenge of the latter knew no bounds.
'Abandoned by the daughter around
whom had clustered all the affection,i
of Ids heart as well as upon whom had
centred all his ambitious expectations,
lie'avowed eternal enmity against qye
ry'one in the least connected with him
-“WITHOUT FFvIK, F.lt'OH on 'IFFECTIOJI'’'-
wbo had absconded with his daughter.
All-powerful himself, and seconded by
the efforts of Nicolo Daponte, whose
son Marco was the rejected suitor of
Bianca, 1 they seized upon the old bank
er, the unfortunate Carlo D’ Alviano,
and threw him into prison. Beatrice,
the governess of Bianca, shared the
same fate;' Not content’ with this,
Bartollommeo went so far as to-carry
the matter before the Council of Ten,
and procured from them a perpetual
decree of banishment against Pietro,
and an offer of two thousand ducats
for his head. He was instigated more
and more to revenge by the wicked
ness of his brother-in-law, Grimani,
patriarch of Aquileia.
But let us return to Pietro and Bian
ca. Their voyage to Florence was a
safe and speedy one. At the time of
their elopement the Tuscan Duchy
was still nominally held by Cosmo dei
Medici; but the government of his
capital and all virtual authority had
been delvolved by him on his son
Francesco. To this young prince was
Pietro flying for protection. He rep
resented in glowing colors’ to Bianca
the generosity, kindness, and personal
good looks of Francesco, and the readi
ness with which lie would protect
them. He told her that the young
prince of Florence would be struck
03 r her 3 r outh and beauty, as well as
her fidelity to her lover under his al
tered circumstances. So lavish was
Pietro of his encomiums upon Frances
co, that he excited in his lady’s bosom
the liveliest interest in the young
prince of Florence. He told her that
old Cosmo wanted Francesco to wed
Joanna of Austria simply on account
of the powerful connection it would
bring to his house, but the young
prince’s heart was not in it, and he
avowed that nothing but love should
control him in the selection of his part
ner.
A short time before the arrival of the
heroic couple in Florence, Pietro told
Bianca it would be necessary for him
to precede her into the dominions of
Cosmo, and seek, through the influence
of Francesco, an asylum in his father’s
dominions. He bade her an affection
ate farewell for only a short time, as
he thought, and went on ahead to pre
pare a place where they both could live
when they got to Florence. His last
words to her were words of caution
against the seductive influence of Fran
cesco. He bade her beware of his arts
and machinations, and expressed full
confidence that she would remain true
to him who had brought her away’
from Venice.
When Bianca reached Florence, she
was introduced to the palace of the
grand duke, according to the directions
of Pietro, who said he would there
await her. But upon enquiry she
found that her lover, hearing of the
imprisonment in Venice of his uncle,
and of Beatrice, who had so much aid
ed him in winning Bianca, felt in hon
or bound to do what he might to re
lieve them from their imprisonment,
and had gone to Venice for that pur
pose. lie left word that he had ob
tained leave of Francesco for Bianca
to remain in the due tl palace, under
the guardianship of the ladies of the
court, until he should return, which
he would do, as soon as he possibly
could.
Bianca was most graciously receiv
ed by Francesco, who seemed to do all
lie could to dazzle her with the splen
dor of the Florentine court. For a time,
everything went on well, and Bianca
was as happy as love and hope could
make her. But soon the ladies of the
court became jealous of her on ac
count of her beauty and the influence
she seemed to have over Francesco,
and through their machinations she was
banished from the palace. Bianca,
now, for the first time awoke from her
re very into a sense of her true situa
tion. She.kad sacrificed home, father,
kindred, wealth and affluence for a
virtuous poverty and her love for .Pie
tro. Brought up in the splendor of
one of the noble families of Venice,
the heiress of the house- of Cappello,
had never known what ’twas to have
■a wish ungratified until stfei forsook
the paternal roof. Indeed, we may
well imagine that the indulgence of her
every whim and every caprice had
much to do with lier elopement. Grat
ified in, evoiy notionpyhich she here
tofore had, it is not surprising that she
should revolt at disappointment in that
which more nearly concerns a woman’s
heart than any thing under heaven. — J
She' could not bear the idea of being
opposed in her love for Pietro. The
tender passion, of all things on earth,
paints every object coideur ch rose. A
strange infatuation gets hold of the
heart where Cupid lodges a dart. The
vision is changed, and everything is
viewed through the deceitful medium
of love. Bianca saw only visions: pf
brightness and happiness with her lo
ver. Forgetful of the comforts and
luxuries she was leaving behind her,
she did not, for the first time, think
that she might not even find a place to
lay her head, when she reached the
capital of the Grand Duchy of Tus
cany.
But the time had now come when
she had awakened from a woman’s
dream, into the stern realities of pov
erty. Expelled from the palace, she
was compelled to beg shelter from door
to door, and the proud heiress of Bar
tollomeo Cappello had now to face the
monster of poverty, perhaps of ruin
and starvation, gazing upon her with
a cold and glazed eye, wherever she
went. She thought of the paternal
mansion, and the comforts she had
left behind her; and she would gladly
have gone back, asked forgiveness of
her father, and sought again the luxu
ries to which she had been accustomed
since infancy. But then she remem
bered that the ire, of not only her fa
ther, but of all Venice had been arous
ed against her, and there was actually
a reward of two thousand ducats of
fered for Pietro’s head. On one hand,
she saw starvation staring her in th
face; and on the other, she saw her
husband’s death-warrant sealed, and
the naked sword of the executioner
panting for vengeance. She could not,
therefore, return to Venice. She could
only hope that Pietro would soon re
turn and release her from her unpleas
ant situation. - -
But let us go back once more to the
queen city of the seas. Again it is
night, and the oars of the gondola
splash in the waters. The heavy ar
chitecture of the prison where D’Avi
ano and Beatrice lay endungeoned,
casts its sombre shadow, caused by the
dim moonlight upon the placid waves.
The sentry stands at his post. Nearer
and nearer goes the gondola to where
he stands watching:
“ What ho !” shouts the sentrv.
“I would speak with thee,” says
Pietro.
“Then speak quickly, and away,”
was the reply.
The gondola neared the sentry; and
Pietro spoke some words in a low tone
to the listening ear. Then gold was
poured into the outstretched hand, and
soon the outer door of the prison
swung open, and then another, and
then a third. D’Alviano and Beatrice
were soon aboard the little bark, and
away it sped over the waters. Anoth
er gondola came up just then, and Pi
etro and the sentry got into that. The
prison door was locked, and the key
left in it. Beatrice and D’Alviano
went on their way, and soon reached
a vessel which was waiting to bear
them to Florence.
“ The two thousand ducats shall be
ours,” said a rough voice, near the
Ponte dei Sospiri, where our tale first
opened.
“ Pull away, then,” replied another.
Ahead, a few hundred yards, scud-'
ded the gondola of Pietro. Another
was in swift pursuit, From it came
the voices which spake as above.—
Long and equal was the race, but fi
nally the hindmost gondola began to
gain upon the other. Fifteen minutes
have elapsed, and the two little barks
are side by side. One blow from a
powerful arm fells Pietro to the earth,
and another severs his head from his
body. The latter is left to float upon
the waters, and the head is borne in
triumph to Bartollommeo Cappello,
who counts down with satisfied ven
o-canee the two thousand ducats. Soon
all Venice is in an uproar at the news
af Pietro’s death, and the escape of all
the prisoners from their dungeons, in
cluding Beatrice and D’Alviano.—
Another of the escaped prisoners, who
had witnessed the death of Pietro,
joined these two in the vessel, in which
they were, about to sail for Florence,
'and communicated to them the tidings
of the fall.of their deliverer.
When D’Alviano and Beatrice
reached Florence they were provided
with a home by Francesco. Beatrice
again took Bianca under her charge,
and conyeyed to her the tidings of
Pietro’s death. Bowed down with
this new sorrow, she heartily wished
the grave might close over her and all
her woes. But death did not come.
She still lived on, an exile from her
father’s house, dependent upon the
charities of Francesco for the very
bread she ate. The Grand Duke,
(now, beevme. sq by the death of his
father Cosmo,) became every- day more
and more enamored of Bianca. And
now, since the death of Pietro, he re
newed his suit for her-heart and hand
with better prospects of attaining the
object he had in view. He had wooed
I Bianca while she yet remained in the
ducal palace, but her troth had been
plighted to Pietro, and she awaited
his return from Venice where he had
gone to liberate Beatrice and D’Alvi
ano, when the nuptial knot should be
tied, and they should become, not only
lovers, but, husband and wife. A
lively interest had been excited in
Bianca’s bosom for Francesco, not only
on account of the kindness with which
he received Pietro, but on account of
his own personal appearance and ac
complishments. Refined in manners,
gay indisposition, affable to all around
him, he had made slow and certain
advances upon her heart, even while
Pietro was in life. But siuee his deatffy
and after the lapse of time had some
what diminished the poignancy of her
grief, it became obvious that she would
become the wife of the Grand Duke.
She loved him, and besides this, she
was very willing to exchange poverty
for the splendors of a palace. She was
made the wife of Francesco.
After her marriage had taken place,
one object of ambition took posses
session of Bianca’s bosom. Two years
had passed since she left the Palazzo
Cappelli at night, by stealth, and she
now resolved to re-enter that palace
and the city of Venice'with all the
pomp and splendor vhicn royalty
could give the occasion. She knew
that her father’s ambition would be
gratified at the unexpected mariner in
which her girlish love-scrape had end
ed, and she determined to dazzle
Venice with the glory, which should
attend the grand duchess of Tuscany.
The Grand Duke, also, determined that
there should be wanting not even a
formal ratification of his marriage.—
There Was a law of Venice which for
bade any foreigner to intermarry with
one of her noble families. He there
fore sent a splendid embassy to
Venice to demand Bianca in marriage;
not as the daughter Cgppello, but of
the city herself. This embassy an
nounced to the Signory that their
master, the Grand Duke of Tuscany,
preferred an alliance with Venice to
one with any ether European power,
and requested that Bianca should be
adopted as the daughter of the State,
in order that Francesco might himself
claim the privileges and perform the
duties of an adopted son.
Gratified beyond measure at forming
an alliance with the grand-duchy of
Tuscany, the city of Venice was not
behind Cappello in her hot haste to
adopt the proposition. Bianca was no
longer regarded as a disgraced and dis
honored daughter of a noble house,
but her many newly discovered vir
tues, her beauty and her grace, were
extolled to'the skies, while her praise
was upon every tongue in Venice. Her
family spoke of her in terms of the
warmest affection, and the admiration
of old Bartollommeo for his daughter
as the duchess of Tuscany was far
ftiead of his affection for her as the
maiden jewel of the house of Cappel
lo. Even the Patriarch Grimani, who
had been more forward than any
else in his persecutions of Bianca when
she fled with Pietro, now became loud
est in his approbation, and entertained
the embassy with sacerdotal pomp and
splendor, at the Palazzo Cappedi.
In a brilliant assembly of the Sig
nor}-, the councils, and all other public
functionaries, and amid a throng of de
lighted and approving relatives, the
business of the Florentine embassy
was taken into consideration.- Bianca
was here recognized, as “tlio true and
particular daughter bf the republic", on
account, and in 4 consideration of the
many eminent, and distinguished qual
ities which rendered her worthy of
every good fortune; and, in order to
meet' with corresponding feelings the
esteem which the .grand duke hud man
ifested towards Venice by this His most
prudent resolution.”' The city
j mis, 8,00 A-im
NUMBER 16.
luminated, bonfires were kindled, and
every demonstration of popular ap
plause was given. Old Cappello and
the brother of Bianca were created
Gavalieri , and took rank before every
other class or caste. The Signory con
descended to visit the Florentine en*.
voys privately, and the senate offered
their congratulations openly and cer
emoniously. Two of the gravest no
bles supported by ninety gentlemen
of rank, each accompanied by a mag
nificent suits, were deputed to put Bi
anca in possession of her newly acquir
ed rights, and to assist at the second
nuptials which., Francesco determined
to celebrate with public solemnity.—
The Patriarch and all the chief Cap
pelli transferred themselves to Flor
ence, as witnesses of the glory of their
house, and in order to consummate its
aggrandizement, the consent of the
holy see wal obtained for Bianca’s cor
onation, that slie might be placed on
an equality with the former adopted
daughters of St. Mark, the queens of
Hungary and Cyprus.
After the return of Francesco and
his bride from Venice, accompanied as
they Avere by all the Cappelli and the
nobles of the city, a grand feast was
given in the ducal palace. Mirth and
hilarity reigned high and every one
was at the height of enjoyment. The
Grand Duke, unperceived, had disap
appeared, and by and by when he
was missed from the Assembly, en
quiry began to be made after him.
No one knew where he was gone.
During his absence a strange .guest en
tered the palace, one who had not
been seen before, having upon his light
D’Alviano and upon his left Beati ice.
The Cappelli turned white with fear
and astonishment, and Bianca almost
fainted. There stood Pietro Buouaven
tura, whom all who knew him thought
asleep in the embrace of death beneath
the waves of the Adriatic.
Pietro approached Bianca, and said
“I claim you as my bride !”
“And I,” replied she, “though it
cost me my life, return to the bosom
of my first love.”
As she spoke, she threw herself
into the arms of Pietro. A score of
Damascan blades leaped from their
scabbards at the sides of the Venetian
noblemen. Another instant and they
would have drunk the blood of Pi*,
etro.
Just in the nick of time, a mask fell ..
from Pietro’s face, and the Grand
Duke himself stood revealed before
the astonished courtiers. He said :
“I am Francesco, and I am Pietro,
also. Having heard of the beauty of
Bianca while my lather Cosmo still
lived, I went as an adventurer to
Venice to win her heart. I might
have gone as the son of Cosmo dei
Medici, and could probably, as such,
have wedded the heiress of the house
of Cappello, but then I could not have
known whether or not I possessed hci
heart. I preferred to seek her as an
humble and obscure banker’s clerk,
knowing that if she wedded me ,as
such, it would be because she loved
me. D’Alviano is no uncle of mine,
and I knew that he would marry his
young wife, and thus my apparent
prospects of inheriting his wealth be
blasted.
“Buteverv one thought I —or
rather —went back to Venice to liber
ate Beatrice and D’Alviano.
not so. I sent a friend of minc+dßig*
nor Carlo Pulci, whom 3 r ou see here
to-night —to act in my place. As fond
as myself of adventure and as lucky
also, lie succeeded in his purpose. —
Neither I, as Pietro, nor Carlo, ’ was
beheaded however. Bartollommeo
Cappello paid hist two thousand ducats
for the head of some poor devil whom
the two asassins really mistook for
Pietro. Here I stand proud of my
bride, proud of the su cess with whichj
mv spirit of adventure has met, and
willing for Bianca to call me I rancet
co or Pietro, just as she likes, tho’ she
will probably prefer the latter name.”
At San Francisco recently, a Chinese
woman who owed some money which
she was unable to pay, was required-,
by her creditor, in aceoi dunce, u ith a
Chinese custom to take poison inordor
to “show her sense of the debt.’ —”
She accordingly swallowed a dose o||
j opium, and would have (lied had notjjp
policeman learne 1 , the eireumstaJce,
and obliged, lier Ip an an tide*;
Flattery; is a sort o) bad mcifcy, ‘ >
which vanity gives cur uncy. Ht