THE HISTORY OF BIANCA CAPELLO CONTINUED.

THE polite behaviour and promises of Mandragone, gave such agreeable hopes to Bianca, that with quite another countenance than before, she renewed her conversation with his lady; who, a little after, taking her by the hand, said, I have a mind to show you our palace, that you may tell me, if in any thing it resembles your great and noble buildings at Venice; and in the mean time, the old lady, your mother, as she is in years and feeble, may repose herself here till our return.

‘Aye, aye, go (replied she,) for I have not breath enough to mount such a stair-case;’ upon which the young women smiling, and arm in arm, ran from room to room, almost over the whole house. This palace, (which stood in the street called Carnesecchi, near Santa Maria Novella,) was so lately built that it was not quite finished, though very near so; and that with such good taste, and so much magnificence, that the  Venetian lady admired and praised every part of it: and now through many anti-chambers, they arrived at last to a very large one, where there was an extreme rich bed, and near it a writing closet, beautifully ornamented, the window of which looked down on a delightful garden. Here the Spaniard having opened a scrutore, took out a vast quantity of jewels, which one by one she shewed her guest, to whom, while she was looking on them with great attention, she spoke in this manner, ‘I have a great, fancy to shew you some dresses I have lately made, which they tell me are exactly as the Venetian ladies wear them; but as I must fetch the key, I beg you will divert yourself with these few jewels till I come back.’

No sooner was Mandragona gone out of the closet, but on a sudden the grand duke entered it: at whose unexpected presence Bianca trembled from head to foot, well imagining the meaning of his coming; but collected in herself, and alike prudent and virtuous, she immediately threw herself at his feet, and in the most moving manner said, ‘Since, sir, it has pleased God that it should be my unhappy fate to lose my parents, my fortune, and my country, and to have nothing in this world left me but my honour; permit me humbly to entreat your royal highness’s protection for that only good, which I esteem more than all the rest.’

The grand duke hearing her talk in this manner, presently raised her from the ground with the greatest respect, saying, ‘You have no reason, madam, to fear any thing from me, who only  come here to assist and comfort you, under those misfortunes I grieve to see you suffer; of the truth of which, my actions shall soon convince you; let me then beg you to be satisfied, that you have found a friend in me, both willing and able to make you happy;’ and so saying, he bowed and left her all pale and confused, which the Spaniard perceiving at her return, said, ‘Don’t wonder, madam, at the abrupt appearance of the grand Duke, for he is pleased to live in that familiarity with us, that very often, and at all hours he comes in this way, diverting himself with jesting, and frightening my maids and me; but this time I believe he is well met withal, and I don’t doubt but that you have given him an answer that has put him out of countenance, and perhaps will make him more cautious for the future.’

‘I made him no answer, said the Venetian, but what the care of my honour obliged me to, and which I recommended to the mercy and protection of his serene highness.’

And you may be certain he will protect it, said Mandragone: ‘But can a lady of your sense and quickness (added she) not perceive, that fortune in compassion to your tedious sufferings, has at last turn’d her face, and will you not seize the golden opportunity? Believe me, madam, these are accidents that seldom happen; to have so young, so charming, and so great a prince, devote his heart with the sincerest passion to your service.’

 Many were the arguments that these two ladies used to maintain their different opinions; but at the last those of the Spaniard prevailed with Bianca Capello to hear the grand duke; and having heard, she soon consented to accept his love: the charms of his conversation and person encreasing every day her inclination for him, till their passion became mutual.

Having traced poor Bianca through all those thorny paths that brought her to the flowery precipice into which she fell, we will now turn to Pietro Buonaventuri her husband, and see how his new fortune became him, still young and handsome, and still beloved by his wife; so that upon her account the grand Duke not only made him master of the robes, but gave him a most magnificent palace in the street named Maggio, with such great appointments, that he enjoyed all the happiness this world could give.

His apartment was on the ground-floor, from whence he could ascend to his wife’s, except when the grand Duke was with her, and in that case, the door to them was fastened on the other side: this happened frequently, Francisco generally dismissing his train when he came home in an evening, and only with one or two confidents going privately to sup with signora Bianca, whom he could seldom bring himself to leave, till an hour before day obliged him to return to his palace; which he did in the same manner he left it.

Long did this course of life, and round of pleasure last, and longer still it might have done, had not the prosperity and power of Pietro (now become very  considerable all over Florence,) filled his mind with so much pride and insolence, that his desires alone dictated all his actions, without the least regard to form or decency. Amongst the many ladies whose affections he sought to acquire, was a widow called Cassandra Bongianni, descended from one of the greatest families in the city, whose extraordinary beauty had gained her many admirers, to some of which it had proved very fatal: her relations, to revenge the dishonour done their family, having already miserably destroyed two of them; one of which (a young man of the family of del Caccia) after giving him several mortal wounds, they dipp’d in pitch, and with a straw hat on his head, and a basket full of balls of packthread on his arm, set him on a stone near the door of his mistress; so that all the people, who passed, (thinking it was a country man asleep) took no notice of him, till towards evening, some body going to wake him, discovered the truth, to the great concern of all who knew him, and more particularly his parents; who, after they had buried him, sought in vain for the authors of his death, though every body’s conjecture centered on the relations of the lady.

Notwithstanding all this was well known to Buonaventuri, it did not in the least intimidate him from pursuing his enterprize, which, as he was insinuating, young and beautiful, he soon attained: and not content with his victory, he gloried in the publication of it, jesting upon, and laughing in the very faces of any of her relations whom he met; and being one day particularly impertinent to  Roberto Ricci, her nephew, he, (unable to endure it,) complained to his aunt, threatning her extremely if she pursued so vile a practice, which, though she positively denied to him, she still continued in such a manner, as made it obvious to all the city: nor did Pietro from this grow more discreet; but as before he had only laughed at them, he began now to menace and insult them, which for some time they feared to resent, out of respect to the grand Duke: but at last their patience being exhausted, they went all together, and represented to his serene highness, the injuries they suffered from Buonaventuri, begging he would command him to behave in a more reasonable way.

The grand Duke was very much concerned to hear of the ill behaviour of Buonaventuri; and promised it should be remedied. When they were gone he immediately sent for Pietro, and taking him into his closet, told him the complaints he had received from Ricci, and the rest of Bongianni’s relations, adding these words: ‘You see therefore, how great is the uneasiness such things give to families, and as this is one of the most considerable in our dominions, you ought to have some regard to it; instead of which you are not content to possess the aunt, but must insult and ridicule the nephew; and that in the most public places, and most opprobrious manner: all this forces me to warn you, that as your actions are unjust (perhaps) they may draw on bad consequences; and should these people kill you, ’tis not in my power to restore you to life; so that if you cannot or will not leave pursuing  this amour, at least do it with more secrecy and decorum.’

The haughty Buonaventuri having heard the gracious admonitions of Francisco, (which being deliver’d with so much reason and calmness, he ought to have esteemed them as the greatest of favours) returned this answer: ‘As I assure your royal highness, there is not one word of truth in all that these men have said, (being neither so extravagant, nor impertinent as they would make me appear,) so I have not the least fear of them: but the true cause of their anger is their envy; they cannot bear to see me in that state, to which your highness’s bounty has raised me, and therefore with calumnies endeavour to deprive me of it, envying also their own blood, whose fortune, like wolves, they would devour; and as they know I have a friendship for that lady, and am some protection to her from their cruelty, they are resolved to ruin us both by this monstrous contrivance.’

‘I know nothing of these affairs, replied the grand duke, nor do I mean to enter into them; ’tis enough that I have advised you as a friend, do as you please, what happens after this will be owing to yourself alone;’and so saying he dismissed him.

Yet little did Buonaventuri profit by the kind remonstrances of the great Duke, growing every day more furious and offensive, committing so many outrages against all the relations of Cassandra, and treating Ricci especially, in so despicable a manner, that he was often ready to take a full revenge,  being only detained from it by the fear of losing his fortune, by the grand Duke’s resentment; at last he resolved to renew his complaints to him, and as he was much in favour with the princess Isabella his sister, he chose to do it by her means: to whom he protested, he was not able to support any longer the scorn of the world, and abominable impudence of Pietro, to deliver himself from which, if he could find no other redress, (he said) he should be obliged at last to abandon the consideration of his fortune and every thing else.

The princess having heard him out, went directly to her brother, whom she made sensible of the vile carriage of Buonaventuri, and of the mischiefs that might attend it; representing the approaching ruin of that whole injur’d family, who were so enraged, as to have no farther restraint, either from their obedience to their sovereign, or reason itself.

The grand Duke promised a speedy and effectual redress; and considering with himself that the only way to it, was to send Pietro from Florence till this hatred should be abated, by time and absence, he determined to employ him in some of his affairs abroad; and as soon as he came to Bianca Capello that night, he told her all that had passed on the occasion, desiring her to use all sorts of arguments, both persuasive and threatning, that might induce Buonaventuri to change his proceedings, and for the future to act more wisely; “But if you can’t prevail (added he) I will send him to France, where he shall stay till he is sensible of his errors.”

 This was like a dagger to the heart of poor Bianca, who still loved her husband to excess, (though she did not let it appear to the grand duke) and fearing that he would, as he said, send him away, she resolved to try all the rhetoric of prayers and tears, to turn him from his dangerous course, and keep him with herself. For that purpose she waited his coming home, which was always late, and when she heard him below in his apartment, she descended the back stairs, and began in this manner, ‘Since my love to you exceeds all that is, or ever was, of passionate, and kind, let me by that conjure you, to hear me out with patience; for what I have to say concerns you in the nearest manner, and is absolutely necessary to your preservation;’ and then in few words she proceeded to tell him all that the grand duke had said to her, and the resolution he had taken for his security, to send him out of the country.

(To be continued.)

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