"Here," said Charles, at the beautiful spot, and made more curious by
the deadly fling of Albano's sword, "finish your narrative of to-day!"
Albano reported to him candidly the word which the sister's voice had
spoken: "I give thee Linda de Romeiro." In the tumult of his inner being
he thought not of the anecdote, that she was the very one for whom
Charles when a boy had proposed to die. "Romeiro?" he started up. "Be
still! She? O thou mocking executioner, Fate! Why she, and to-day? Ah,
Albano, for her I early braved death," he continued, weeping, and sank
upon his breast, "and that is what has made my heart so bad, because I
have lost her. Do thou only take her, for thou art a pure spirit; the
glorious shape which appeared to thee on the sea, so she looks, or now
still fairer. Ah, Albano!" This noble youth trembled at the complicated
plot, and at the destiny, and said: "No, no, thou dear Charles, thou
thinkest falsely about everything."
Suddenly it was as if all the constellations rang, and a melodious
spirit-choir thronged in through the gate. Albano was startled.
"Nothing; let be," said Charles. "It is not the skeleton; the _pious
father_ is walking in the _flute-dell_, and is just drawing out his
flutes, because he prays. But how sayest thou, I think falsely of
everything?" "How?" repeated Albano, and could not, in the magic circle
of these echoes, which all-powerfully brought back to him that Sunday
morning, either think or speak. For did not the silver-poplars wave to
and fro against the stars, and rosy clouds lie couched about the
heavens, and did not the whole Elysium pass openly by with the sounds
which had floated through it, with the tears which had besprinkled it,
and with the dreams which no heart forgets, and with the holy form which
eternally abides in his breast? And now he held so fast the hand of her
brother; so near was he to love and friendship, those two foci in the
ellipse of life's pathway; impetuously he embraced the brother, with the
words: "By Heaven, I say to thee, she whom thou hast just named concerns
me not, and never will."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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