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Updated: May 27, 2025
High poles, supporting nets twenty feet broad and sixty feet long, were erected on the grassy slopes of the Solaro or in the plateau of the Tragara, towards which, by dint of judicious scaring and shouting from expectant watchers stationed at various points, the flight of the on-rushing birds was directed.
She reflected that it had surely been within the limits of the Marchesa's choice to take her daughter's side so soon as she had seen that the latter had mistaken her own feelings. She need not have agreed with San Miniato, on that fatal evening at Tragara, that the marriage was definitely settled, until she had at least exchanged a word with Beatrice herself.
She would not have uttered a cry, and no one would be the wiser, for Tragara is a lonely place, by day and night. "She is here, you say?" Beatrice asked again. "Where is she? Ruggiero, what is the matter? Have you done her any harm? Have you hurt her? Have you killed her?" "Not yet " "Not yet!" Beatrice cried, in a low horror-struck tone.
But it is also ten o'clock, and we could not get to Tragara before one or two in the morning. Lastly, your mother would not go." "Will she go to-morrow?" asked Beatrice with sudden anxiety. "Have you asked her?" "She will go," answered San Miniato confidently. "We must make her comfortable. That is the principal thing." "Yes.
"How inexplicable nature is!" exclaimed the Marchesa fanning herself lazily. "I will not try to understand the moon any more. It tires me. A lemonade, San Miniato ring for a lemonade. I am utterly exhausted." "Shall I ask Donna Beatrice's opinion about Tragara?" inquired San Miniato rising. "Oh yes! Anything only do not argue with me. I cannot bear it.
The men pulled hard by the lonely rocks, for the sun had almost set and they knew how sharp the stones are at Tragara, when one must tread them barefoot and burdened with hampers and kettles and all the paraphernalia of a picnic.
Beatrice Granmichele saw and felt what she had never seen or felt before, and the magic of Tragara held sway over her, as it does over the few who see it as she saw it. She turned slowly and glanced at San Miniato's face. The moonlight improved it, she thought. There seemed to be more vigour in the well-drawn lines, more strength in the forehead than she had noticed until now.
"Why ridiculous?" "Because you ought to know the answer well enough. Imagine comparing the moon with Chinese lanterns!" "Your mother prefers the latter." "Oh, mamma of course! She is so practical. She would prefer carriage lamps on the trees gas if possible! When are we going to Tragara? Where is it? Which boat shall we take? Oh, it is too delightful! Can we not go to-night?"
It was only too sure that he had looked upon what had passed at Tragara as a final decision on the part of Beatrice, and that henceforth she was his affianced bride. Her mother had not even found great difficulty in persuading her of the fact, and after that one bitter struggle she had given up the battle.
"I am not mistaken, mamma," she answered. "I am quite right, and you know it. Can you deny that what I say is true? Can you say that you did not arrange with him to take me to Tragara, and to let him speak to me himself?" "It is far too much trouble to deny anything, my dear child. But all that may be quite true, and yet he may love you as sincerely as he can love any one.
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