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Updated: June 21, 2025


Hereupon Gambara fell into a musical day-dream, improvising the most lovely melodious and harmonious cavatina that Andrea would ever hear on earth; a divine strain divinely performed on a theme as exquisite as that of O filii et filioe, but graced with additions such as none but the loftiest musical genius could devise.

The Count, too thoroughly fascinated to miss the smallest indication of complaisance, fancied that she must love him, since she understood him so well. From this moment he set himself to conquer the husband rather than the wife, turning all his batteries against the poor Gambara, who quite guilelessly went on eating Signor Giardini's bocconi, without thinking of their flavor.

"And here," said Gambara, sadly, "there is one of those wretched ballets, which interrupt the thread of the finest musical tragedies! But Mahomet elevates it once more by his great prophetic scene, which poor Monsieur Voltaire begins with these words: "Arabia's time at last has come! The tribes arrive in crowds; the horns and brass reappear in the orchestra.

The orchestra and the chorus of female voices express the joys of the Houris, while Mahomet reverts to the melancholy strain of the opening. Where is Beethoven," cried Gambara, "to appreciate this prodigious reaction of my opera on itself? How completely it all rests on the bass. "It is thus that Beethoven composed his E minor symphony.

And once when Messer Gambara and she went together within doors, he abruptly interrupted my studies, saying that it was enough for that day; and he went below to join them. Half a year earlier I should have had no solution for his strange behaviour. But I had learnt enough of the world by now to perceive what maggot was stirring in that egg-shaped head.

Came unto Gambara, Wisest of Valas 'Vala, why weepest thou Far in the wide-blue, High up in the Elfin-home, Heard I thy weeping. 'Stop not thy weeping, Till one can fight seven, Sons have I, heroes tall, First in the sword-play; This day at the Wendels' hands Eagles must tear them; While their mothers, thrall-weary, Must grind for the Wendels'

The heads by the hand of that master are very lifelike, and hold to the manner of Raffaello da Urbino, and even more would they hold to it if he had not lived so far from Raffaello. The son-in-law of Alessandro was Lattanzio Gambara, a painter of Brescia, who, having learned his art, as has been related, under Giulio Campo of Verona, is now the best painter that there is in Brescia.

They would go out together in the dark to the Champs Elysees and sing duets, which Gambara, poor fellow, accompanied on a wretched guitar.

And their tale, of course, was that Gambara, being the lover of Fifanti's wife, had dispatched the doctor on a trumped-up mission, and had gone to visit her by night. But that the suspicious Fifanti lying near by in wait, and having seen the Cardinal enter, followed him soon after and attacked him, whereupon the Lord Gambara had slain him.

It was not until she had made her purchases in a shop under the Duomo and we were returning home that I touched upon the matter. She chid me for the lack of caution that might have led me into some unpardonable indiscretions but for her warning. "But the very thought of such a man as my Lord Gambara torturing a poor wretch for sacrilege!" I cried.

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