"I think it would be well, Isabella, to send immediately to inform your gracious brother of my arrival, so that he may kindly allow our Virginio to be sent home; I long exceedingly to see him. I know well that he is becoming strong and valiant, and shows himself fond of all kinds of knightly exercises which are fitting for a great prince; and indeed, not to speak of my blood, descending from yours, which has honored the world with so many men renowned both for military prowess and for wisdom, he could not well be otherwise.—But what joy can messages or letters cause, equal to that which gladdens the heart of a father at the sight of the dear face, and at the sound of the sweet voice of his son——"
"I have already anticipated your wishes, Giordano. A mother feels intuitively the desires of a father, even before they can rise from his heart to his lips."
"My best beloved!—What can I say to you? How find words to express my thanks? Oh, what a comfort is this air of home, which I can call truly mine! How soothingly do these emotions descend upon the soul, like the sweet breath of spring, to disperse every cloud of melancholy, of vexing care, of passion. Yes, yes, the air of the open plains or of the mountain heights, the sea-breeze that swept my face on the day of the battle of Lepanto,—I will not say that these were not most grateful to me,—I enjoyed even the wild tumult of the battle itself, and the dazzling brilliancy of the sun's rays glancing from the armor of the Christians, and glorious above all was the proud shout of victory,—but oh!—the air of my home,—the air of my home,—that I have found nowhere——!"
"But not on downy plumes, nor under shade
Of canopy reposing, fame is won,
as Dante says, and you have added a most noble monument of praise to the renowned honor of your house. Certainly it is an arduous undertaking to exalt what is already so high; to the eagle alone is it granted to commence his flight from the summit of the Alps——"
"A mere fable! In my opinion, your poet would have done much better to compare glory to 'smoke in air or foam upon the wave.'[48] Peace, rest, is what men crave incessantly. The more boldly we arrange our affairs or enterprises, the more sharply our passions sting us, so much the more rapidly does time, exerting all the power of his heavy wing, hurl ruin upon human beings, affairs, renown, and hearts. This power, like the wind, strikes with greatest force the loftiest summits; the raging whirlwind, which rends the oak upon the mountain-top, is gentle to the violet in the vale,—I am old——"
"Alas! Do you, then, think that the passions which are most active in corroding the human heart, are those which chiefly haunt the court and camp? Often in gilded halls, beneath draperies of damask, are kindled flames fiercer, not only than any other earthly ones, but than those of the infernal——"
"However it may be with others, see here, my face is full of wrinkles, while as to you, time has hardly dared to touch the corner of your eyes with the downy tip of his wings."
"Is it, then, the face alone that grows old? Do you not know that man sometimes survives himself? Do you not know that the heart often rests within the breast like a corpse in the coffin? Ah, Giordano! I swear to you by the Crucifix, that the sorrows suffered by you, on account of your long and distant separation from your home, are not nearly so severe as those which I have endured, remaining here, forsaken and solitary. I recognise in my pallid face the tokens of the worn out spirit. Do not deny it; do not shake your head as if you did not think so. I possess a stern friend, who, neither by threats, nor by supplications, nor by bribes, can be restrained from speaking the truth; who, if broken into a thousand fragments, would assume a thousand tongues to repeat it to me more persistently than ever; who ought to be banished from Court, since he will not bend to flattery, and nevertheless he is one whom we could not possibly do without. And is called—as you must already have guessed—Looking-glass!"