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Updated: May 3, 2025
On this the fair Quiteria, to all appearance distressed, grieved, and repentant, advanced without a word to where Basilio lay, his eyes already turned in his head, his breathing short and painful, murmuring the name of Quiteria between his teeth, and apparently about to die like a heathen and not like a Christian. Quiteria approached him, and kneeling, demanded his hand by signs without speaking.
"If your Eminence will allow me," said Gouache, rising suddenly and laying down his charcoal pencil, "I will pin this curtain across the window. The sun is beginning to come in." He had no intention of answering any questions. If the Cardinal knew of the meetings in the Via San Basilio, that was not Gouache's fault; Gouache would certainly not give any further information.
He did not hold himself so erect as formerly, and his head was bowed. So absorbed was he in his meditations that he did not hear a knock at the door, and it had to be repeated. He shuddered and called out, "Come in!" It was Basilio, but how altered! If the change that had taken place in Simoun during those two months was great, in the young student it was frightful.
He was tall, thin, sallow; he wore a long black robe, with a cap of the same material and color; he had the face of a Don Basilio, with the eye of Nero. He motioned the guards to surround him more closely, when he saw with affright the dark group we have mentioned, and the strong-limbed and resolute peasants who seemed in attendance upon them.
But no matter now! If we can't get a finished statue, rounded out in all its details, of the rough block we work upon let those to come take charge!" Seizing the arm of Basilio, who was listening without comprehending all he said, he led him to the laboratory where he kept his chemical mixtures.
Basilio and Quiteria having thus joined hands, the priest, deeply moved and with tears in his eyes, pronounced the blessing upon them, and implored heaven to grant an easy passage to the soul of the newly wedded man, who, the instant he received the blessing, started nimbly to his feet and with unparalleled effrontery pulled out the rapier that had been sheathed in his body.
"Makaraig, the wealthy Makaraig, has offered one of his." Capitan Basilio had to give in; these young men had everything arranged. "For the rest," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, "it's not altogether bad, it's not a bad idea, and now that you can't know Latin at least you may know Castilian. Here you have another instance, namesake, of how we are going backwards.
How a calumny, ingeniously published, may grow from a whispered zephyr to a crashing, detonating tempest, Basilio describes in the buffo air "La calunnia" a marvellous example of the device of crescendo which in this form is one of Rossini's inventions. Bartolo prefers his own plan of compelling his ward to marry him at once.
Basilio bit his lip. "You've saved us a trip," added the corporal, placing his hand on the youth's shoulder. "You're under arrest!" "What, I also?" Makaraig burst out into laughter. "Don't worry, friend. Let's get into the carriage, while I tell you about the supper last night."
At these words all turned round, and perceived that the speaker was a man clad in what seemed to be a loose black coat garnished with crimson patches like flames. As he approached he was recognised by everyone as the gay Basilio, and all waited anxiously to see what would come of his words, in dread of some catastrophe in consequence of his appearance at such a moment.
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