The marriage festa—and all Venice knows
The bride receives to-night." "What bride, whose bride?"
I asked, impatient. "Count Alberti's bride,
Whose else?" he answered, with a shrug. My heart,
From its glad, singing height, dropped like a lark
Shot dead, at these few words. The whole world reeled,
And for a moment I was crushed and stunned.
Then came the wild revulsion of despair;
Then, calm more dreadful than the fiercest pain.
"Row me to the steps," I said. I leaped