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He called now every evening to enjoy calm and serious conversation, to which he contributed lucid and well considered arguments controverting Gambara's singular theories. He took advantage of the remarkable acumen of the composer's mind as to every point not too directly bearing on his manias, to obtain his assent to principles in various branches of art, and apply them subsequently to music.
My cousin watched Gambara's every look whenever the latter turned to speak to Giuliana; the Cardinal-legate did the like by him; and Messer Fifanti watched them both. And, meantime, Giuliana sat there, listening now to one, now to the other, her lazy smile parting those scarlet lips those lips that I had kissed that morning I, whom no one thought of watching!
His first dupe and his first victim! Weep! rejoice! Triumph and tears! Such is life." Marianna could not control her tears, and Andrea was so deeply moved that his eyes were moist. The Neapolitan cook was startled by the magnetic influence of the ideas expressed by Gambara's convulsive accents. The composer looked round, saw the group, and smiled. "At last you understand me!" said he.
The fierce and gloomy tone of this finale is relieved by the phrases given to the three women who foretell Mahomet's triumph, and these motives are further developed in the third act in the scene where Mahomet is enjoying his splendor." The tears rose to Gambara's eyes, and it was only upon controlling his emotion that he went on. "Act II. The religion is now established.
But once my Lord Gambara supped with us, and he was light and trivial as ever, an incarnation of frivolity and questionable jests, apparently entirely unconscious of Fifanti's chill reserve and frequent sneers. Indeed, I greatly marvelled that a man of my Lord Gambara's eminence and Governor of Piacenza should so very amiably endure the boorishness of that pedant.
Marianna sat down again, but without raising her eyes to Andrea, who hesitated before speaking. "And will not Signor Gambara's confidence entitle me to his wife's?" he said in agitated tones. "Can the fair Marianna refuse to tell me the story of her life?" "My life!" said Marianna. "It is the life of the ivy.
"It is not given to everybody," said the journalist, "to have an intellect that can understand Monsieur Gambara's musical efforts, and that, no doubt, is why our divine maestro hesitates to come before the worthy Parisian public."
The thought was, after all, a foolish one; for the death of Fifanti was a matter that concerned the Ruota and the open courts, and those, as I well knew, did not dare to move against me, on Messer Gambara's account. "Of what sacrilege can I be guilty?" I asked. "The tribunal will inform you," replied the familiar a tall, sallow, elderly man.
Presently, however, as we drew nearer to the Palace, a murmur began to rise. It swelled and grew fierce. Suddenly a cry rose vehement and clear. "Rescue! Rescue!" "He is the Lord of Mondolfo," shouted one tall fellow, "and the Cardinal-legate makes a cat's-paw of him! He is to suffer for Messer Gambara's villainy!" Again he was answered by the cry "Rescue!
Long upon the very edge of mutiny and revolt against Gambara's injustice, it had needed but what seemed a crowning one such as this to quicken their hatred into expression. It was all very clear and obvious, and it seemed to me that to-morrow's trial should be very interesting.
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