I know Gina, she is a woman who acts always on the first impulse; her conduct is incalculable, even by herself; if she tries to plan out a course in advance, she goes all wrong; invariably, when it is time for action, a new idea comes into her head which she follows rapturously as though it were the most wonderful thing in the world, and upsets everything.
"If I make no mention of my suffering, nothing will be kept back from me, and I shall see all that goes on… .
"Yes, but by speaking I bring about a change of circumstances: I make her reflect; I give her fair warning of all the horrible things that may happen… . Perhaps she will send him away" (the Conte breathed a sigh of relief), "then I shall practically have won; even allowing her to be a little out of temper for the moment, I shall soothe her … and a little ill-temper, what could be more natural? … she has loved him like a son for fifteen years.
There lies all my hope: like a son … but she had ceased to see him after his dash to Waterloo; now, on his return from Naples, especially for her, he is a different man. A different man!" he repeated with fury, "and that man is charming; he has, apart from everything else, that simple and tender air and that smiling eye which hold out such a promise of happiness!
And those eyes—the Duchessa cannot be accustomed to see eyes like those at this court! … Our substitute for them is a gloomy or sardonic stare.
I myself, pursued everywhere by official business, governing only by my influence over a man who would like to turn me to ridicule, what a look there must often be in mine!
Ah! whatever pains I may take to conceal it, it is in my eyes that age will always shew.
My gaiety, does it not always border upon irony? … I will go farther, I must be sincere with myself; does not my gaiety allow a glimpse to be caught, as of something quite close to it, of absolute power … and irresponsibility?
Do I not sometimes say to myself, especially when people irritate me: 'I can do what I like!' and indeed go on to say what is foolish: 'I ought to be happier than other men, since I possess what others have not, sovereign power in three things out of four … ?' Very well, let us be just! The habit of thinking thus must affect my smile, must give me a selfish, satisfied air.
And, how charming his smile is!
It breathes the easy happiness of extreme youth, and engenders it."
Unfortunately for the Conte, the weather that evening was hot, stifling, with the threat of a storm in the air; the sort of weather, in short, that in those parts carries people to extremes.
How am I to find space for all the arguments, al' the ways of looking at what was happening to him, which for three mortal hours on end, kept this impassioned mar in torment?
At length the side of prudence prevailed, solel; as a result of this reflexion:
"I am in all probability mad; when I think I am reasoning, I am not, I am simply turning about in search of a less painful position, I pass by without seeing it some decisive argument.
Since I am blinded by excessive grief, let us obey the rule, approved by every sensible man, which is called Prudence.
"Besides, once I have uttered the fatal word jealousy, my course is traced for me for ever.
If on the contrary I say nothing to-day, I can speak to-morrow, I remain master of the situation."
The crisis was too acute; the Conte would have gone mad had it continued.
He was comforted for a few moments, his attention came to rest on the anonymous letter.
From whose hand could it have come?
There followed then a search for possible names, and a personal judgement of each, which created a diversion.
In the end, the Conte remembered a gleam of malice that had darted from the eyes of the Sovereign, when it had occurred to him to say, towards the end of the audience:
"Yes, dear friend, let us be agreed on this point: the pleasures and cares of the most amply rewarded ambition, even of unbounded power, are as nothing compared with the intimate happiness that is afforded by relations of affection and love.
I am a man first, and a Prince afterwards, and, when I have the good fortune to be in love, my mistress speaks to the man and not to the Prince."
The Conte compared that moment of malicious joy with the phrase in the letter: "It is thanks to your profound sagacity that we see this State so well governed."
"Those are the Prince's words!" he exclaimed; "in a courtier they would be a gratuitous piece of imprudence; the letter comes from His Highness."
This problem solved, the fault joy caused by the pleasure of guessing the solution was soon effaced by the cruel spectre of the charming graces of Fabrizio, which returned afresh.
It was like an enormous weight that fell back on the heart of the unhappy man.
"What does it matter from whom the anonymous letter comes?" he cried with fury; "does the fact that it discloses to me exist any the less?
This caprice may alter my whole life," he said, as though to excuse himself for being so mad. "At the first moment, if she cares for him in a certain way, she will set off with him for Belgirate, for Switzerland, for the ends of the earth.
She is rich, and besides, even if she had to live on a few louis a year, what would that matter to her?
Did she not admit to me, not a week ago, that her palazzo, so well arranged, so magnificent, bored her?
Novelty is essential to so youthful a spirit!
And with what simplicity does this new form of happiness offer itself!
She will be carried away before she has begun to think of the danger, before she has begun to think of being sorry for me!
And yet I am so wretched!" cried the Conte, bursting into tears.
He had sworn to himself that he would not go to the Duchessa's that evening; never had his eyes thirsted so to gaze on her.
At midnight he presented himself at her door; he found her alone with her nephew; at ten o'clock she had sent all her guests away and had closed her door.
At the sight of the tender intimacy that prevailed between these two creatures, and of the Duchessa's artless joy, a frightful difficulty arose before the eyes of the Conte, and one that was quite unforeseen. He had never thought of it during his long deliberation in the picture gallery: how was he to conceal his jealousy?
Not knowing what pretext to adopt, he pretended that he had found the Prince that evening excessively ill-disposed towards him, contradicting all his assertions, and so forth.
He had the distress of seeing the Duchessa barely listen to him, and pay no attention to these details which, forty-eight hours earlier, would have plunged her in an endless stream of discussion.
The Conte looked at Fabrizio: never had that handsome Lombard face appeared to him so simple and so noble!
Fabrizio paid more attention than the Duchessa to the difficulties which he was relating.
"Really," he said to himself, "that head combines extreme good-nature with the expression of a certain artless and tender joy which is irresistible.
It seems to be saying: 'Love and the happiness it brings are the only serious things in this world.'
And yet, when one comes to some detail which requires thought, the light wakes in his eyes and surprises one, and one is left dumbfoundered.
"Everything is simple in his eyes, because everything is seen from above.
Great God! how is one to fight against an enemy like this?
And after all, what is life without Gina's love?