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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