It was something of a disappointment to Odo, on entering the SignorinaMiranda's room, to find that she was not alone. Engaged in feeding herpet monkey with sugar-plums was the young man who had given her his armin the Piazza. This gentleman, whom she introduced to Odo as her cousinand travelling companion, the Count of Castelrovinato, had the same airof tarnished elegance as his richly-laced coat and discoloured ruffles.
He seemed, however, of a lively and obliging humour, and Mirandolinaobserved with a smile that she could give no better notion of hisamiability than by mentioning that he was known among her friends as theCavaliere Frattanto. This praise, Odo thought, seemed scarcely to thecousin's liking; but he carried it off with the philosophic remark thatit is the mortar between the bricks that holds the building together.
"At present," said Mirandolina laughing, "he is engaged in propping up aruin; for he has fallen desperately in love with our prima amorosa, alady who lost her virtue under the Pharaohs, but whom, for his sake, Ihave been obliged to include in our little supper."This, it was clear, was merely a way of palliating the Count'sinfatuation for herself; but he took the second thrust as good-naturedlyas the first, remarking that he had been bred for an archeologist andhad never lost his taste for the antique.
Odo's servants now appearing with a pasty of beccafichi, some bottles ofold Malaga and a tray of ices and fruits, the three seated themselves atthe table, which Mirandolina had decorated with a number of wax candlesstuck in the cut-glass bottles of the Count's dressing-case. Here theywere speedily joined by the actress's monkey and parrot, who had soonspread devastation among the dishes. While Miranda was restoring orderby boxing the monkey's ears and feeding the shrieking bird from herlips, the door opened to admit the prima amorosa, a lady whose maturecharms and mellifluous manner suggested a fine fruit preserved in syrup.
The newcomer was clearly engrossed in captivating the Count, and thelatter amply justified his nick-name by the cynical complaisance withwhich he cleared the way for Odo by responding to her advances.
The tete-a-tete thus established, Miranda at once began to excuseherself for the means she had taken to attract Odo's attention at thetheatre. She had heard from the innkeeper that the Duke of Pianura'scousin, the Cavaliere Valsecca, was expected that day in Vercelli; andseeing in the Piazza a young gentleman in travelling-dress and Frenchtoupet, had at once guessed him to be the distinguished stranger fromTurin. At the theatre she had been much amused by the air ofapprehension with which Odo had appeared to seek, among the dowdy orvulgar inmates of the boxes, the sender of the mysterious billet; andthe contrast between the elegant gentleman in embroidered coat andgold-hilted sword, and the sleepy bewildered little boy of the midnightfeast at Chivasso, had seized her with such comic effect that she couldnot resist a playful allusion to their former meeting. All this was setforth with so sprightly an air of mock-contrition that, had Odo felt theleast resentment, it must instantly have vanished. He was, however, inthe humour to be pleased by whatever took his mind off his own affairs,and none could be more skilled than Mirandolina in profiting by such amood.
He pressed her to tell him something of what had befallen her since theyhad met, but she replied by questioning him about his own experiences,and on learning that he had been called to Pianura on account of theheir's ill-health she declared it was notorious that the little princehad not long to live, and that the Duke could not hope for another son.
"The Duke's life, however," said Odo, "is as good as mine, and in truthI am far less moved by my remote hopes of the succession than by thenear prospect of visiting so many famous cities and seeing so much thatis novel and entertaining."Miranda shrugged her pretty shoulders. "Why, as to the Duke's life,"said she, "there are some that would not give a counterfeit penny forit; but indeed his Highness lives so secluded from the world, and issurrounded by persons so jealous to conceal his true condition even fromthe court, that the reports of his health are no more to be trusted thanthe other strange rumours about him. I was told in Pianura that but fourpersons are admitted to his familiarity: his confessor, his mistress,Count Trescorre, who is already comptroller of finance and will soon beprime-minister, and a strange German doctor or astrologer that is latelycome to the court. As to the Duchess, she never sees him; and were itnot for Trescorre, who has had the wit to stand well with both sides, Idoubt if she would know more of what goes on about her husband than anyscullion in the ducal kitchens."She spoke with the air of one well-acquainted with the subject, and Odo,curious to learn more, asked her how she came to have such an insightinto the intrigues of the court.
"Why," said she, "in the oddest way imaginable--by being the guest ofhis lordship the Bishop of Pianura; and since you asked me just now totell you something of my adventures, I will, if you please, begin byrelating the occurrences that procured me this extraordinary honour. Butfirst," she added with a smile, "would it not be well to open anotherbottle of Malaga?"MIRANDOLINA'S STORY.
You must know, she continued, when Odo had complied with her request,that soon after our parting at Chivasso the company with which I wastravelling came to grief through the dishonesty of the Harlequin, whoran away with the Capo Comico's wife, carrying with him, besides thelady, the far more irretrievable treasure of our modest earnings. Thisbrought us to destitution, and the troop was disbanded. I had nothingbut the spangled frock on my back, and thinking to make some use of mysole possession I set out as a dancer with the flute-player of thecompany, a good-natured fellow that had a performing marmozet from theIndies. We three wandered from one town to another, spreading our carpetwherever there was a fair or a cattle-market, going hungry in badseasons, and in our luckier days attaching ourselves to some band ofstrolling posture-makers or comedians.
One day, after about a year of this life, I had the good fortune, in themarket-place of Parma, to attract the notice of a rich English noblemanwho was engaged in writing a book on the dances of the ancients. Thisgentleman, though no longer young, and afflicted with that strangeEnglish malady that obliges a man to wrap his feet in swaddling-clotheslike a new-born infant, was of a generous and paternal disposition, andoffered, if I would accompany him to Florence, to give me a home and agenteel education. I remained with him about two years, during whichtime he had me carefully instructed in music, French and the art of theneedle. In return for this, my principal duties were to perform inantique dances before the friends of my benefactor--whose name I couldnever learn to pronounce--and to read aloud to him the works of themodern historians and philosophers.
We lived in a large palace with exceedingly high-ceilinged rooms, whichmy friend would never have warmed on account of his plethoric habit, andas I had to dance at all seasons in the light draperies worn by theclassical goddesses, I suffered terribly from chilblains and contracteda cruel cough. To this, however, I might have resigned myself; but whenI learned from a young abate who frequented the house that the books Iwas compelled to read were condemned by the Church, and could not beperused without deadly peril to the soul, I at once resolved to fly fromsuch contaminating influences. Knowing that his lordship would notconsent to my leaving him, I took the matter out of his hands byslipping out one day during the carnival, carrying with me from thataccursed house nothing but the few jewels that my benefactor hadexpressed the intention of leaving me in his will. At the nearest churchI confessed my involuntary sin in reading the prohibited books, andhaving received absolution and the sacrament, I joined my friend theabate at Cafaggiolo, whence we travelled to Modena, where he wasacquainted with a theatrical manager just then in search of a Columbine.
My dancing and posturing at Florence had given me something of a nameamong the dilettanti, and I was at once engaged by the manager, who tookme to Venice, where I subsequently joined the company of the excellentTartaglia with whom I am now acting. Since then I have been attended bycontinued success, which I cannot but ascribe to my virtuous resolve toface poverty and distress rather than profit a moment longer by thebeneficence of an atheist.
All this I have related to show you how the poor ignorant girl you metat Chivasso was able to acquire something of the arts and usages of goodcompany; but I will now pass on to the incident of my visit to Pianura.
Our manager, then, had engaged some time since to give a series ofp............