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"The Duke of Bracciano will reappear when I find it needful to prove that he is alive." "Cardinal Borborigano!" exclaimed Bianchon. "By the Pope's keys! If you do not agree with me that there is a magnificent creation in the very name, if at those words dress rustled in the silence you do not feel all the poetry thrown into the part of Schedoni by Mrs.
Schedoni did much more than beget or pattern Lara: he is Lara, to all intents and purposes, in "first state" and before the final touch has been put by the greater master who took the plate in hand. But there is more to be said for Mrs. Radcliffe than this.
The casuistry by which Schedoni brings the lady to this pass, while representing her as the originator of the scheme, is really subtle, and the scenes between the pair show an extraordinary advance on Mrs. Radcliffe's earlier art. The mysterious Monk who counteracts Schedoni remains an unsolved mystery to me, but of that I do not complain.
The book has a treble attraction, for it contains the germ of "Northanger Abbey," and the germ of "Jane Eyre," and the germ of Byron! So too Byron's gloomy scowling adventurers, with their darkling past, are mere repetitions in rhyme of Mrs. Radcliffe's Schedoni. This is so obvious that, when discussing Mrs. Radcliffe's Schedoni, Scott adds, in a note, parallel passages from Byron's "Giaour."
The scene is Naples, the date about 1764; the topic is the thwarted loves of Vivaldi and Ellena; the villain is the admirable Schedoni, the prototype of Byron's lurid characters. "The Italian" is an excellent novel. The Prelude, "the dark and vaulted gateway," is not unworthy of Hawthorne, who, I suspect, had studied Mrs. Radcliffe. The theme is more like a theme of this world than usual.
"The Duke of Bracciano will reappear when I find it needful to prove that he is alive." "Cardinal Borborigano!" exclaimed Bianchon. "By the Pope's keys! If you do not agree with me that there is a magnificent creation in the very name, if at those words dress rustled in the silence you do not feel all the poetry thrown into the part of Schedoni by Mrs.
Festoons of grapes, trained to leafy elms, began to appear white villas chequered the suburbs and it was with a pleasurable feeling, that they neared the peculiar looking city, with its leaning towers, and old facades. It is the only one, where the Englishman recals Mrs, Ratcliffe's harrowing tales; and half expects to see a Schedoni, advancing from some covered portico.
The parents of a young noble might well try to prevent him from marrying an unknown and penniless girl. The Marchese Vivaldi only adopts the ordinary paternal measures; the Marchesa, and her confessor the dark-souled Schedoni, go farther as far as assassination.
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