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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Oro supplex et acclinis Cor contritum quasi cinis: Gere curam mei finis. . . . . Lacrymosa dies illa, " Driven to utter desperation, Varillo stood for a moment inert, then, suddenly catching sight of a rope hanging from one of the windows close at hand, he rushed to it and pulled it furiously.
It is a quiet end, they say the devil knocks at the gate of the monastery often at midnight, but he never enters in, never unless perchance you are he!" Varillo turned himself about pettishly. "If I were he, I should not trouble you long," he said. "Even the devil might be glad to make exit from such a hole as this! Who is your Superior?" "We have only one Superior, God!" replied Ambrosio.
"The devil has often mocked us in saint's disguise," he said slowly. "I tell the porter here every night to keep the gates well locked against him, but this time it was no use; he has entered in. And now we shall have great work to get him out!" Varillo resting his head on one arm, studied him curiously. "You must have lived a strange life in the world!" he said.
"I have no wish at all in the matter," she answered, "except to see Sylvie quite happy." "How very romantic is the friendship between you two women!" said Varillo somewhat sarcastically, "You wish to see Sylvie happy, and the other day she told me she would form her judgment of me by YOUR happiness! Really, it is most admirable and touching!" Angela began to feel somewhat puzzled.
Myself, I tremble to think of the murder of the Sovrani the poor girl was so innocent of evil and see you! we might all be murdered in our beds with such villains about . . ." He broke off, surprised at the angry oath Varillo uttered. "Per Dio! Can you not talk of something else?" he said hoarsely, "There is a murder nearly every day in Rome!"
You are not usually so dense with me, though to those who do not know you as well as I do, you sometimes appear to be the very stupidest of men! Now be frank! tell me, is not Pon-Pon one of the 'noble' women?" "She is a very good creature," averred Varillo gently, and with an air that was almost pious, "She supports her family entirely on her earnings."
"Of course you will see me there," replied Sylvie, a little impatiently, "Am I not one of Angela's closest friends?" "True! And for the sake of la mia dolcezza, you will also be a friend to me?" "'la mia dolcezza'", repeated Sylvie, "Is that what you call her?" "Yes but I fear it is not original!" said Varillo smiling, "One Ariosto called his lady thus."
Then came a quick tramp of many feet a hubbub of voices and loud battering knocks at the chapel door. Ambrosio laughed triumphantly. "We are at prayers!" he cried "We admit no one! The devil and I are at prayers!" Varillo sprang at him once more. "Madman! Show me the way!" he screamed. "Show me the way down from this place or I will strangle you!"
Florian Varillo was exceedingly angry at the whole affair, and whenever Sylvie's betrothal was spoken of he assumed an expression of pained and personal offence which was almost grotesque. "Such a marriage is ridiculous!" he declared, "Everyone can see how utterly unsuited the two are in tastes, habits and opinions! They will rue the day they ever met!"
Would the Eccellenza like to stop there? It is as far as I can go, for I am wanted to-night in Rome." "Very well stop where you like only get on now!" said Varillo, pulling his head in with a jerk. And sinking back in his seat again he wiped his hot face and cursed his miserable destiny. It would have been all right if he had only remembered that sheath!
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