The Honour of Savelli: A RomanceLevett Yeats, S. (Sidney)
History
The Honour of Savelli: A Romance
Levett Yeats, S. (Sidney)
Italy -- History -- 1492-1559 -- Fiction
When he was gone I sat down to count my money, and found I had but ten
crowns in all the world. With prudence however this would last some
time. Still it was gall and wormwood to me to have to weigh each item
of my disbursement. It would be necessary as well to renew my attire,
which, with the exception of the leather buff coat, was almost ruined
by the hard wear it had been exposed to on my journey. I sat down to
rest, but now that I had reached Florence a reaction set in, and
assailed by a full sense of my position I gave way to despair. In a
little time I became more composed; but it was impossible to keep
still with the fire in my heart, and I sallied into the street, taking
care to note landmarks, so as to find my way back. In this manner I
must have gone for about a quarter of a mile, when I was brought to a
standstill by the coming of a gay party down the street, in the
direction opposite to mine, all marching by the light of many torches,
to the music of a band. The musicians led the procession, which was
flanked on each side by a number of flambeaux bearers, and a retinue
of servants, all bearing swords despite the law.
The merry-makers walked in pairs, each lady resting her fingers
on her cavalier's arm, and all laughing and talking with the utmost
good-humour. I was compelled to draw myself to the wall to admit of
their passing, and whilst thus giving them the road, the light fell
brightly on me, and I became an object of alarm to some of the fair,
who gave utterance to pretty little exclamations of terror, with the
result that I came in for haughty looks from the gallants.
In the middle of the promenaders were two ladies, who, apparently not
having partners of the opposite sex, had linked themselves together,
and the attention of the taller of these was bestowed upon me for a
moment, and it was not flattering. As she wore a mask, I could see
little of her face beyond the half contemptuous look in her eyes which
were dark as night, and a short curl of the upper lip, with which she
no doubt intended to express the same sentiment as her glance. I
waited calmly until the whole party passed on, admiring the grace of
the demoiselle who had favoured me with her scornful survey. I watched
them until they turned off into another street, and then went on, idly
wondering who the people were, and more especially the dark-eyed lady.
The street behind me was in gloom, a few yards in front of me a lamp
hanging from a wall threw a dim radiance; beyond that there was gloom
again. Through the darkness before me I heard the sound of hurrying
feet, coming in my direction, and almost before I was aware of it, the
newcomer and I fell into the circle of the light, and met face to
face.
It was D'Entrangues! He knew me as if by instinct.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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