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Updated: June 4, 2025
In Lombardy the nobles live upon the rent of their inherited estates; descent and the abstinence from any regular calling, constitute nobility. In Venice, the 'nobili, the ruling caste, were all merchants.
As his eye met hers, Nobili grew crimson. The twilight and the shaded lamp hid this in part, but Nera observed it, and noted it for future use. Count Nobili placed himself beside the marchesa. "I am overwhelmed with shame," he said. "What you say is too true. I had intended coming.
Instinct told him some subtle scheme lay under the urgings of Guglielmi the dangerous civilities of the marchesa. He would go. The legal separation might be completed elsewhere. Why only at Corellia? Why must those formalities insisted on by Guglielmi be respected? What did they mean? Of the real drift of the delay Nobili was utterly ignorant.
"How could I possibly imagine you did not know all this?" he asked, in the gentlest voice. Trenta groaned. "Take me home, take me home," he murmured, faintly. "Gran Dio! the marchesa! the marchesa!" He clasped his hands, then let them fall upon his knees. "But what real obstacle can there be to a marriage with Count Nobili?"
Nobili shook his head. He was so stunned and dazed he could not speak. "If it is five o'clock," said Malatesta, "I must go too." Malatesta drew Nobili a little apart. "Don't think too much of this, Nobili. It will all blow over and be forgotten in a month. Take your wife a trip to Paris or London. We shall hear no more of it, believe me. Good-by."
Pipa was straightforward and simple in her notions of matrimony, but, like a wise woman, she had held her tongue. Nobili and Enrica are alone. A furtive glance passes between them. Neither of them moves. Neither of them speaks. The first movement comes from Enrica. She sinks backward upon a chair.
What does this mean?" "Nothing," said Orsetti, trying to smile, but not succeeding. "I hear, Nobili, you have behaved with extraordinary generosity," he adds, fencing the question. "Yes, by Jove!" adds Prince Ruspoli. Ruspoli was leaning up against a pillar, watching Orazio as he would a mischievous cur. "A most suitable marriage. Not that I care a button for blood, except in horses."
The excellency is young!" He spoke in the odd, muffled voice, peculiar to the deaf. "The excellency goes so fast he will fall if he does not mind. Our court-yard is very damp; the stairs are old." "Which is the way up-stairs?" Nobili asked, impatiently. "It is so dark I have forgotten the turn." "Here, excellency here to the right. By the Madonna there, in the niche, with the light before it.
Yes, Marescotti that is the very man Enrica had mentioned to him under the trees at Corellia. Each letter of it blazes in fire before his eyes. Yes she had said Marescotti had read her eyes. "O God!" and Nobili groans aloud, and buries his face within his hands. "You take this too much to heart, my dear Mario," Count Orsetti said; "indeed you do, else I would not say so.
Hitherto he had been driven on, goaded by the promptings of passion, and the firm belief that Enrica was the mere tool of her aunt. Now the same facts detailed by the priest placed themselves in a new light. For the first time Nobili doubted whether he was entirely justified in all that he had done in all that he was about to do. Meanwhile Fra Pacifico was losing all patience.
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