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Updated: June 29, 2025
"Will she die?" the marchesa asked again. "Who can tell? She is in the hands of God." As he spoke, Trenta shot an angry scowl at his friend he knew her so well. If Enrica died the Guinigi race was doomed that made her tremble, not affection for Enrica. A word more from the marchesa, and Trenta would have told her this to her face.
Nobili, passing on quickly, nearly ran over Cavaliere Trenta. He was in the act of making a profound obeisance, as he handed an ice to one of his contemporaries. "Ah, youth! youth!" exclaimed poor Trenta, softly, with difficulty recovering his equilibrium by the help of his stick.
Then a strange thing happened: the criminals, who, believing Murat their accomplice, had welcomed him with vociferations and laughter, now bent before his royal majesty, which had not overawed Pellegrino and Trenta Capelli, and retired silently to the depths of their dungeon. Misfortune had invested Murat with a new power.
"Does the lady does Enrica Guinigi know of this proposal?" he asked, in a voice so sad that the cavaliere's indignation against him cooled considerably. "Good God!" exclaimed Trenta, "such a question is an insult to me and to my errand. Can you imagine that I, all my life chamberlain to his highness the Duke of Lucca, am capable of compromising a lady?"
"Yes," exclaimed the count, clasping his hands; "I have been longing to do so ever since I first saw you. Will you permit it? If so, give me paper and pencil, that I may write." Enrica had neither. Rising from the ground, she crossed over to where Trenta sat, apparently absorbed in the contemplation of the roofs of his native city.
We are met in order to sign the marriage-contract. The notary, I see, is ready. The contract lies before him. May I be permitted to call in the lady?" "One moment, Cavaliere Trenta," interposed Nobili, who was still standing, holding up his hand to stop him "one moment.
"In all I do," the marchesa answered, loftily, "I must first consider what is due to the dignity of my position." Trenta bowed. "Decidedly, marchesa; that is your duty. But what then?" "No feeling whatever but that will influence me now, or hereafter nothing." She dwelt upon the last word defiantly, as the final expression of her mind.
The marchesa had come by this time to look on the count as a bore, of whom she was anxious to rid herself. She was so anxious, indeed, to rid herself of him that she actually assented. "My niece, Signore Conte," she said, stiffly, "shall be ready with her gouvernante and the Cavaliere Trenta, at eleven o'clock to-morrow. Now good-night!"
My path" and a far-away look came into his eyes "my path lies alone upon the mountains alone! alone!" he added sorrowfully, and a tear trembled on his eyelid. "Then why, may I ask you," retorted Trenta, with energy, raising himself upright in the arm-chair, "why did you mislead me by such passionate language to Enrica?
He approached Enrica, who had remained quite still, and, kneeling at her feet, placed the wreath upon her head. "Enrica Guinigi" the count spoke so softly that neither Trenta nor Baldassare could catch the words "there is something in your beauty too ethereal for this world." Enrica, covered with blushes, tried to rise, but he held out his hands imploringly for her to remain.
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