‘Just so: they mean nothing, they herald nothing:
‘"They flash like anger o’er the sky,
And then dissolve in tears.”’
‘True,’ said the poet; ‘but, harmless as these elemental changes seem, we forget how they affect others—what blights they often leave in their track:
‘"The sport the gods delight in
Makes mortals grieve below.”’
‘It was Fabri wrote that line,’ said Gerald, catching at the quotation.
‘Yes, Madame la Marquise,’ said Alfieri, answering the quickly darted glances of the lady’s eyes, ‘this youth has read all sorts of authors. A certain Signor Gabriel, with whom he sojourned months long in the Maremma, introduced him to Voltaire, Diderot, and Rousseau: his own discursive tastes added others to the list.’
‘Gabriel! Gabriel! It could not be that it was——’ and here she bent over and whispered a word in Alfieri’s ear.
A sudden start and an exclamation of surprise burst from the poet.
‘Tell us what your friend Gabriel was like.’
‘I can tell you how he described himself,’ said Gerald. ‘He said he was: