“I will tell you what occurred,” then remarked one of the players. “When three months ago the Italian company arrived, our future prima donna became a subscriber, and chose a box the nearest to the stage. She did not miss a single recitation, and she even obtained permission to assist at the rehearsals. The duke directed the Italian prima donna to give lessons to his protégé which made her accepted afterwards by the director; but he would engage her only as second, which Maria refused haughtily. By one of those chances which always favor the audacious, the prima donna fell dangerously ill, and the protégé of the duke offered herself to replace her. We well know how she has acquitted herself of the task.”
At this moment the countess, animated and brilliant as the light, entered, accompanied by several invited guests.
“Mother, what a delightful evening we have had! What a triumph! What a beautiful and magnificent thing!”
“Will you tell me, my niece,” replied the general, “what importance it could have, and what effect produced by this new arrival having a fine voice and singing well on the stage, that she has excited in you the same elevation, and even the same enthusiasm, which the recital of a great fact or of a sublime action would inspire in you.”
“Think then, uncle, what a triumph for us! What glory for Seville, to be the cradle of an artist whose renown will fill the whole world!”
“Like the Marquis de la Romana!” replied the general. “Like Wellington, or like Napoleon! Is it not true, my niece?”
“What, sir,” replied the countess; “the renowned, is she not a war-trumpet? How divinely this woman, without a rival, sings! With what ease and good taste she walks the stage! She is a prodigy! And what enthusiasm and admiration seized all the audience! My own pleasure was redoubled when I saw the duke so satisfied, and Stein dumb with emotion.”
“The duke,” interrupted the general, “should find his joy in things of a different nature.”
“General,” remarked one of the guests, “these are human weaknesses. The duke is young—”
“Ah!” cried the countess, “there is nothing more frightful than suspicion, and to suspect evil where it does not exist. The world dishonors him who would be culpable of such infamy. Do you not all know that the duke does not only give himself up to the study of the fine arts, but that he patronizes the artists, the learned, and all whom he can happily influence in the progress of intelligence? And besides, Maria, has she not for her husband a man to whom the duke owes much?”