Sleep had just closed his eyelids, and he had even already entered upon a vision of fairy enchantment,—doubtless conjured up to his imagination by the gorgeous spectacle of the treasure-room,—when he was startled by screams which appeared to issue from the very wall of the alcove, at the head of his bed.
He listened—and those screams became more and more piercing in their nature, although their tone was subdued, as if by the existence of a thick intervening partition.
“Holy Virgin! what sounds are those?” he exclaimed, more in pity than in fear—for they were unmistakably female shrieks which he heard.
“Perdition seize on those Carmelite nuns!” cried Lomellino; “they seem to have got another victim!”
“Another victim!” murmured the marquis falling back in his bed, a prey to the most torturing feelings; and then his lips framed the sweet and tender name of “Giulia!”
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A FEARFUL ACCUSATION.
Fair and beauteous art thou, O City of Flowers! with thy domes and spires, and turrets overlooking the Arno’s silver stream, and crowding together in that river’s classic pale; surrounded, too, by oak-covered hills, and cypress groves, and gardens of olives and evergreens, and presenting to the view of the spectator who stands on the lofty summit of Monte Senario, so vast an assemblage of palaces as to justify the saying of Ariosto, that it seemed as if the very soil produced them!
Or seen from the olive-crowned hill of Fesole, consecrated by the genius of Milton, how glorious is thy rich combination of beauty, thou Athens of Etruria!
The sun dawned upon the eventful night, the incidents of which have occupied so many chapters. The golden flood poured upon the Florentine scene, so fair even in winter, bathing in yellow luster the mighty dome of the cathedral of St. Mary, the ducal palace on its left, and the cupola of the Medicean chapel on its right, and bringing out into strong relief against the deep foliage of the evergreens the marble fronts of palaces, villas, and convents, seated amidst the hills, or scattered through the vale—the whole affording a rich and varied view, as if eternal summer reigned in that delightful region and beneath the purple canopy of that warm Italian sky!
Alas! that the selfish interests, dark passions, conflicting feeling, clashing aims, and black, black crimes of men should mar the serenity and peace which ought to maintain an existence congenial to this scene!