Here the speaker shuddered—and her fair cheek grew pale as death.

“I have no fears for myself—Leonora. They cannot sever the bonds of the church that united us; my own life I can defend.”

“Ah, thou knowest them not! the dungeon—the rack—the assassin’s knife—all will be prepared for thee. As thou lovest me, fly!” And gliding from his embrace, she sank down at his feet.

“Forsake thee—my wife! Abandon thee to the Cardinal’s vengeance—”

“I have naught to fear from him. Oh, hear Antonio’s advice! When thou art gone, the Bishop’s anger will abate. A few months may restore thee to me. Go—Giuseppe: there is safety in flight—to stay is certain death! Must Leonora entreat in vain?”

Their interview was interrupted by Beatrice, the nurse, who came in haste to warn Tartini that her master, with his brother the Bishop of Padua, was approaching the house, and that they were accompanied by several armed servants. There could now be no doubt of their intentions towards the offender. He comprehended at once, that even the forbearance the Count had shown his daughter had been dictated by a wish to secure his person. To stay would be utter madness; and yielding to the passionate entreaties of his young wife, he clasped her for the last time to his heart, pressed a farewell kiss on her forehead, and was gone before his pursuers entered the house.

That night, while the emissaries of the Bishop of Padua were searching the city, with orders to arrest the fugitive, and to cut him down without mercy should he resist, Tartini, disguised in a pilgrim’s dress, was many miles on the way towards Rome.


More than two years after the occurrence of this scene, one evening in the winter of 1713, the Guardian of the Minors’ Convent at Assisi was conversing with the organist, Father Boëmo, on the subject of one of the inmates, whom Boëmo had taken under his peculiar care.

“The youth is a relative of mine,” continued the Guardian; “but considerations of humanity alone moved me to grant him an asylum, when, poor, persecuted and homeless, he threw himself on my compassion. Since then his conduct has been such as to secure my favor, and the respect of all the brethren.”