Don Tarquinio: A Kataleptic Phantasmatic Romance (Valancourt eClassics) by Barón Corvo, Frederick Rolfe, Fr. Rolfe Page B
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that I had loved her since first I saw her in the City.
She was not angry: but sweetly tender, modest, not unwilling. Her mood brightened mine; and mine heart became as blithe as the sea at dawn in spring. She was not mine; but she was to be had for the asking: for which cause I continued to speak. I said that I hitherto had had no means of approaching her: that I even now was ignorant of her name; and I used the sacred language of lovers.
She begged me to rise, lest some passer-by should misunderstand me; and her eyes darted up the stairs to the other maids with their partners. She was very young, and perhaps a little terrified by the violence of love, though she by no means was for flying from it. I stood up; and, by cause that I most fervently regarded her, she let her eyelids droop a little while she responded to me, telling me her name and condition. Anon she used a new stratagem in the sweet affray, demanding that I should speak about myself. So, I was driven back into the citadel of my sadness, mine assault being prevented. She pushed me closer, persisting, gently urging me.
Anon I told her how that our house had been xij years in exile, notwithstanding that we were the most noble patricians in the Golden Book of Rome; and I spoke of Saint George the Dragon-slayer of Seriphos, of the Great Ban, of our razed palace, of our baron fooling at Fiorenza. I said that I was a scion of the younger branch, and innocent of the murders which had caused us to be banned; and I told her of my breeding, with all other matters necessary to be known by her. I gave her notice of mine arts and parts. There I was to serve her, as she could see, young, strong, well-instructed, not uncomely, and burning for an opportunity of doing deeds. I also spoke of Ippolito, my friend, who had brought me to the City in search of that opportunity which was not at Deira.
She, with divine tenderness, feared for my safety. I gave her confidence again, reciting the precautions observed and the privileges enjoyed among the Estense familiars. But, by side of these things, I bade her to know that I as yet was not a notable person upon whom our Lord the Paparch well might execute justice. Further, I said that Alexander so far had not manifested special virulence toward mine house. We were bandits when He began to reign. So He found us. The Great Ban had been laid on us by His predecessors; and, if He so willed, He could annul it. Wherefore I had taken the risk, for the sake of meeting an opportunity. And I showed her how that Ippolito, being in the Paparch’s favour, was watching daily for a fortunate moment in which to plead my case. Not that I wished to sue for favours: but I was seeking an opportunity for doing some signal service, which should merit and compel paparchal approbation. I preferred to help myself. But, until my disability should have been removed, I was (so I said) like a prisoner in chains, unable to use myself.
She moved a little nearer to me, lifting the sweet deep wells of her eyes for me to bathe in; and she said:
“O Madonnino, how I pity, how I pity!”
But I instantly responded, bending my proper eyes to hers, saying:
“O Madonnina, pity is akin to love.”
And, at the word, I saw mine image inshrined within those mirrors of her soul. It was an omen, very fortunate, very invigorating. If Hersilia loved me, that nerved me; and I would persevere. So I said.
She wished to speak for me to Madonna Lucrezia: saying that that one was beneficent to everybody and all-powerful with her Most Holy Father. But I denied her. A man ought to raise himself and not to owe his fortunes to women. That was my sentence. I also said that Hersilia was like the angel who formerly delivered the Paparch Saint Peter from chains. She had made me strong to free myself. Nothing more was necessary except a little patience and a fortunate event.
She gave her hand to mine hot kisses. It was as dainty as a baby’s.
At that moment, Ippolito and Madonna
She was not angry: but sweetly tender, modest, not unwilling. Her mood brightened mine; and mine heart became as blithe as the sea at dawn in spring. She was not mine; but she was to be had for the asking: for which cause I continued to speak. I said that I hitherto had had no means of approaching her: that I even now was ignorant of her name; and I used the sacred language of lovers.
She begged me to rise, lest some passer-by should misunderstand me; and her eyes darted up the stairs to the other maids with their partners. She was very young, and perhaps a little terrified by the violence of love, though she by no means was for flying from it. I stood up; and, by cause that I most fervently regarded her, she let her eyelids droop a little while she responded to me, telling me her name and condition. Anon she used a new stratagem in the sweet affray, demanding that I should speak about myself. So, I was driven back into the citadel of my sadness, mine assault being prevented. She pushed me closer, persisting, gently urging me.
Anon I told her how that our house had been xij years in exile, notwithstanding that we were the most noble patricians in the Golden Book of Rome; and I spoke of Saint George the Dragon-slayer of Seriphos, of the Great Ban, of our razed palace, of our baron fooling at Fiorenza. I said that I was a scion of the younger branch, and innocent of the murders which had caused us to be banned; and I told her of my breeding, with all other matters necessary to be known by her. I gave her notice of mine arts and parts. There I was to serve her, as she could see, young, strong, well-instructed, not uncomely, and burning for an opportunity of doing deeds. I also spoke of Ippolito, my friend, who had brought me to the City in search of that opportunity which was not at Deira.
She, with divine tenderness, feared for my safety. I gave her confidence again, reciting the precautions observed and the privileges enjoyed among the Estense familiars. But, by side of these things, I bade her to know that I as yet was not a notable person upon whom our Lord the Paparch well might execute justice. Further, I said that Alexander so far had not manifested special virulence toward mine house. We were bandits when He began to reign. So He found us. The Great Ban had been laid on us by His predecessors; and, if He so willed, He could annul it. Wherefore I had taken the risk, for the sake of meeting an opportunity. And I showed her how that Ippolito, being in the Paparch’s favour, was watching daily for a fortunate moment in which to plead my case. Not that I wished to sue for favours: but I was seeking an opportunity for doing some signal service, which should merit and compel paparchal approbation. I preferred to help myself. But, until my disability should have been removed, I was (so I said) like a prisoner in chains, unable to use myself.
She moved a little nearer to me, lifting the sweet deep wells of her eyes for me to bathe in; and she said:
“O Madonnino, how I pity, how I pity!”
But I instantly responded, bending my proper eyes to hers, saying:
“O Madonnina, pity is akin to love.”
And, at the word, I saw mine image inshrined within those mirrors of her soul. It was an omen, very fortunate, very invigorating. If Hersilia loved me, that nerved me; and I would persevere. So I said.
She wished to speak for me to Madonna Lucrezia: saying that that one was beneficent to everybody and all-powerful with her Most Holy Father. But I denied her. A man ought to raise himself and not to owe his fortunes to women. That was my sentence. I also said that Hersilia was like the angel who formerly delivered the Paparch Saint Peter from chains. She had made me strong to free myself. Nothing more was necessary except a little patience and a fortunate event.
She gave her hand to mine hot kisses. It was as dainty as a baby’s.
At that moment, Ippolito and Madonna
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