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"O what an accent!" cried she almost rapturously: "Cavalcanti! such a one I too knew some years since, one Guido." "He was my father," said Antonio. "And is he no longer alive?" "No," answered the young man; "my mother too was taken from me a long time ago." "I know it, I know it, my dear pretty boy. Ay, ay, it must now be full fifteen years since she died.
Cavalcanti, dressed in black, like one of Goethe's heroes, with varnished shoes and white silk open-worked stockings, passed a white and tolerably nice-looking hand through his light hair, and so displayed a sparkling diamond, that in spite of Monte Cristo's advice the vain young man had been unable to resist putting on his little finger.
This good Major Cavalcanti is come to take a second view of Paris, which he only saw in passing through in the time of the Empire, when he was on his way to Moscow. I shall give him a good dinner, he will confide his son to my care, I will promise to watch over him, I shall let him follow in whatever path his folly may lead him, and then I shall have done my part."
Cavalcanti's face was set and rigid. "You place a heavy burden on my shoulders," said he, "when your excellency, my guest, appeals to me against another guest of mine against one who is all but friendless and the son of my own best friend." "And my worst enemy," cried Pier Luigi hotly. "That is your excellency's own concern, not mine," said Cavalcanti coldly.
When the eagerness of the multitude who crowded round had calmed down a little, the coffin was deposited in the church, behind the altar of the Cavalcanti."
"Ah, yes," said the factitious abbe, who began to understand; "and what name does the young man bear meanwhile?" "Andrea Cavalcanti." "Is it, then, that young man whom my friend the Count of Monte Cristo has received into his house, and who is going to marry Mademoiselle Danglars?" "Exactly." "And you suffer that, you wretch you, who know his life and his crime?"
"And you, sir," said Galeotto, smiling his sweetest in return, "are, I trust, a better charlatan than a condottiero." He went up the stairs, the gaudy throng making way before him, and he came at last to the top, where stood the Lord of Pagliano awaiting him, a great trouble in his eyes. They clasped hands in silence, and Cavalcanti went in person to lead his guest to his apartments.
The banished having retired, Florence again returned to her old divisions; and in order to deprive the Cavalcanti of their authority, the people took from them the Stinche, a castle situated in the Val di Greve, and anciently belonging to the family.
His morning walk across the city had begun, and he foreknew that as he passed the sloblands of Fairview he would think of the cloistral silver-veined prose of Newman; that as he walked along the North Strand Road, glancing idly at the windows of the provision shops, he would recall the dark humour of Guido Cavalcanti and smile; that as he went by Baird's stonecutting works in Talbot Place the spirit of Ibsen would blow through him like a keen wind, a spirit of wayward boyish beauty; and that passing a grimy marine dealer's shop beyond the Liffey he would repeat the song by Ben Jonson which begins: I was not wearier where I lay.
If Simone had wished ere this that the Cavalcanti party was ruined, now he was resolved upon its ruin, and for no reason more strongly than because it included Dante in its company. In this resolve, I say again, I cannot honestly blame Messer Simone. He only acted as most of us would have acted if we had been in his place.
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