Historical fiction; Italy -- History -- Revolution of 1848 -- Fiction; War stories
"What is this? Does the man play me false? Read those lines, Lena, and
tell me, does the man mean to fight in earnest who can dare to write
them? He advises Ammiani to go to Venice. It's treason, if it is not
cowardice. And see here--he has the audacity to say that he deeply
respects the lady Ammiani is going to marry. Is Ammiani going to marry
her? I think not."
Anna dashed the letter to the floor.
"But I will make use of what's within my reach," she said, picking it up.
"Carlo Ammiani will marry her, I presume," said Lena.
"Not before he has met Captain Weisspriess, who, by the way, has obtained
his majority. And, Lena, my dear, write to inform him that we wish to
offer him our congratulations. He will be a General officer in good
time."
"Perhaps you forget that Count Ammiani is a perfect swordsman, Anna."
"Weisspriess remembers it for me, perhaps;--is that your idea, Lena?"
"He might do so profitably. You have thrown him on two swords."
"Merely to provoke the third. He is invincible. If he were not, where
would his use be?"
"Oh, how I loathe revenge!" cried Lena.
"You cannot love!" her sister retorted. "That woman calling herself
Vittoria Campa shall suffer. She has injured and defied me. How was it
that she behaved to us at Meran? She is mixed up with assassins; she is
insolent--a dark-minded slut; and she catches stupid men. My brother, my
country, and this weak Weisspriess, as I saw him lying in the Ultenthal,
cry out against her. I have no sleep. I am not revengeful. Say it, say
it, all of you! but I am not. I am not unforgiving. I worship justice,
and a black deed haunts me. Let the wicked be contrite and washed in
tears, and I think I can pardon them. But I will have them on their
knees. I hate that woman Vittoria more than I hate Angelo Guidascarpi.
Look, Lena. If both were begging for life to me, I would send him to the
gallows and her to her bedchamber; and all because I worship justice, and
believe it to be the weapon of the good and pious. You have a baby's
heart; so has Karl. He declines to second Weisspriess; he will have
nothing to do with duelling; he would behold his sisters mocked in the
streets and pass on. He talks of Paul's death like a priest. Priests
are worthy men; a great resource! Give me a priests lap when I need it.
Shall I be condemned to go to the priest and leave that woman singing?
If I did, I might well say the world's a snare, a sham, a pitfall, a
horror! It's what I don't think in any degree. It's what you think,
though. Yes, whenever you are vexed you think it. So do the priests,
and so do all who will not exert themselves to chastise. I, on the
contrary, know that the world is not made up of nonsense. Write to
Weisspriess immediately; I must have him here in an hour."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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