THE FOOL ERRANT - World eBook Library - World Public Library

etter for it. But if you love me I cannot bear it. I shall suffocate with joy—my heart will crack. O Francis, Francis, wilt thou
never understand thy poor girl?" All this time she was straining me to her with frenzy, kissing me, almost blind with tears. She
was frantic, panting and struggling for breath. I had seen her before in possession of this dangerous ecstasy of love, and though I
could not but love her for it in my turn, it was not the kind of happiness I wished her to enjoy. Her scene ended in a very
passion of weeping, distressing to witness, but no doubt soothing; after which, moaning like one sore beaten, she lay lax and
languid in my arms. Deeply touched, I laid her down upon the grass and watched her fade off into a quieter sleep. In this state
she lay for an hour of more, and awoke refreshed, her usual shrewd and reticent self.
Therefore, loving, and being passionately loved in return, working diligently at a clean trade, living in the sweat of my brow,
owing no man anything, the next few months of my life—few as they were, not more than six all told—were some of the
happiest I have ever spent. They recalled those weeks at Pistoja, but only to excel them; for then I was idle and Virginia not
satisfied. Then I had none of the sweet uses of domestic life—the hearth in common, and the heart too; the nuptial sacraments
of kiss and embrace, the united outlook, the rational hope of increase. We forgot the world, which had forgotten us; our
appetites were simple and easily satisfied; we fed each other and knew deep content. Happy, happy days at Lucca, too soon
ended! We shared the uses of a single room with a couple as young and newly wedded as ourselves, rose at five in the morning,
and worked at our employment until late in the evening. We ate frugally, drank a little wine and water, loved temperately, and
slept profoundly. On Sundays and festivals we went to Mass together, and spent our leisure in excursions in the fields and
pleasant groves with which Lucca is engirdled. We never ventured outside the territory of the Republic, but felt secure within it,
trusting to our honest intentions, our simplicity and complete insignificance. Ah, blessed content! Blessed, thrice blessed
obscurity! Would to God that you had been assured to us for ever! On rare occasions one or other of us had sight of the
Cavaliere Aquamorta, who maintained the same magnificence at the Albergo del Sole, and was reputed to be making large
sums with his faro-bank. A new scheme of his for a State lottery upon a scale never before conceived by this thrifty little State
was said to be under the consideration of the Senators. Working in my master's yard, I used to see him now and again being
carried in his chair to this great house or that, half a dozen link-boys before him, and his valet behind carrying his sword and
gloves. Virginia often met him in the course of her errands, but, as she said, was never recognised by him. We nattered
ourselves that he had forgotten our co-existence with him upon this planet. Hope never stooped to falser cozenage; we were to
be rudely undeceived.
CHAPTER XXXIII. TREACHERY WORKS AGAINST US
One evening—I believe, as I said, that it was after nearly six months' calm and temperate life that our troubles began—upon
returning from my day's work, I found Virginia in a pensive mood. She accepted, but hardly returned, my salute, was very silent
throughout the preparation and eating of our supper; now and then, glancing at her, I caught her gaze fixed upon me, and
fancied that there was a hard light in her eyes. Our companions, Gioiachino and his wife Teresa, rallied us on what they thought
to be one of those domestic differences common to the most affectionate couples. "A tiff, a tiff!" said they, nudging each other.
"Virginia has caught him with the gardener's wife. We shall get no sleep to-night." This gardener's wife was an obese and
asthmatic matron of some two-score years; who occupied a room in our little house, and was kinder to me than I cared for. It
was not until Gioiachino and his Teresa were asleep that I could hope to discover what had affected Virginia. She then told me
that, as she had been at work that afternoon, kneeling on the boards by the river with the other women, the Cavaliere
Aquamorta with a party of gentlemen had come by the meadows and stopped to jest and bandy familiarities with the
laundresses. Although he had pretended not to recognise her, Virginia was not deceived. Finding his opportunity, he drew near
to her side, and whispered in her ear, "Can I believe my senses? You, my charming consort of a few weeks ago, in such a
plight, in such a company!" Virginia had replied that the company had been of her own choosing up to this hour, and that what
he complained of now could be remedied very easily, and by himself only. He said, "No, my honour will not allow it. I must
needs remember what I might have made you, and what you have become. Count upon Aquamorta, who has never yet failed
his friends. Count upon his memory and passionate aspirations."
"I told him," said Virginia, "that I should do nothing of the kind. I said that I was wife to a gentleman born, who also happened
to be an honest man. 'If,' I said finally, 'you wish to do Virginia a real service, you will be pleased to forget that you ever saw
her.' He laughed, and said that that was impossible to a man of his tumultuous passions, and went away with a profound
salutation. This," said my poor Virginia, "has troubled me more than I care to own. I think we should be wise to leave Lucca
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