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Updated: May 25, 2025
The Voce Della Verita has described it as a direct inspiration of the devil, and suggests the burning-down of the studio in which it was painted, as a means of purifying the Sovrani Palace from the taint of sulphur and brimstone. La Croix demands the excommunication of the artist, which by the way is very likely to happen.
"Dead!" cried Prince Sovrani, springing forward. "Dead! Make me sure of that, and I will praise God even for your lying tongue, if it could for once speak such a welcome truth!" Gherardi drew back amazed, instinctively recoiling from the flashing eyes and threatening figure of the irate nobleman. "Speak!" cried Sovrani again.
Among her friends no one perhaps was happier in Sylvie's happiness than Angela Sovrani; her nature was of that rare quality which vibrates like a harp to every touch, and the joy of others swept over her with a gladness which made her more glad than if she had received some priceless boon for her own benefit.
"Oh, my permission does not matter'" said Sovrani eyeing him narrowly, "Whatever gives pleasure to Angela must needs please me. She is all that is left to me now in an exceedingly dull world. A riverderci! At eight we dine."
She is an interesting subject, to ME! She will arrive in Rome to-morrow night, and her uncle Cardinal Bonpre, will be with her, and they will all stay at the Sovrani Palace, which seems to me like a bit of the Vatican and an old torture- chamber rolled into one! And, talking of this same excellent Cardinal, they have almost canonized him at the Vatican, almost, but not quite." "For what reason?"
Angela Sovrani listened attentively, her violet eyes darkening and deepening as she heard, now and then she raised them to look at the youthful waif who stood so quietly while the story of his troubles was told in the gentle and sympathetic way which was the Cardinal's usual manner of speech, and which endeared him so much to all.
He had met Varillo by chance in Naples one winter before he ever saw Angela, and knew that half his claim to the notice of the social world there was the fact of his betrothal to the famous "Sovrani."
And then perhaps a stray cynic would say, "But Angela Sovrani need not depend on one lover surely?
Innocent of all evil, their escape was after the manner of the guilty; for the spies of the Vatican were on guard outside the Sovrani Palace, and one priest after another "relieved the watch" in the fashion of military sentries.
The world would not miss me a bit, but it would not find an Angela Sovrani again in a hurry!" Angela raised a cluster of narcissi and inhaled their fine and delicate perfume. There were tears in her eyes, but she hid them with a spray of the flowers. "Ah, Sylvie, you think too well of me! To be famous is nothing. To be loved is everything!" Sylvie looked at her earnestly.
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