So far everything was feasible enough, but two points of the affair perplexed3 me very much, one being the choosing of the deserted4 palace as a place of meeting, the other the visit to the burial ground by the woman. We do not live in the times of the Borgias, when noble ladies can thus rid themselves of their lovers with impunity5, else I might have believed that this phantom6 of Donna Lucrezia had gone to the old Veronese cemetery7 to select a grave for the unfortunate young man she intended to murder. To think thus, however, was foolish, and although I guessed that she had used the old palace of her family as a safe place for a lovers' meeting, seeing its gruesome reputation secured it from public curiosity, yet I was quite unable to explain the cemetery mystery. One thing, however, appeared to me to be certain, that Guiseppe Pallanza had been carrying on an intrigue8 with the Contessa--presuming the ghoul to be her--and that he had gone to the Palazzo Morone on the night in question at her request. As to the sick friend----
Now I greatly mistrusted that sick-friend story. So many fast young Englishmen whom I knew had adopted the same lie to cover their little peccadilloes9 that I was quite sure Pallanza had employed the same fiction to prevent the scandal of his intrigue with this unknown woman from reaching the ears of his fiancée. Bianca was a very proud girl, and I felt certain, from what little I had seen of her character, that if she discovered Guiseppe was playing her false, she would at once break off the engagement at any cost. Like all Italian women, when she loved she loved with her whole soul, and expected the same single-hearted return to her passion; so that the discovery of her lover's infidelity could only be punished sufficiently10, according to her ideas, by an everlasting11 parting between them. Pallanza knew this, and therefore tried to hide his guilt12 by the plausible13 story of his dying friend, which appeared to me to be such a remarkably14 weak fabrication that, before going to the Palazzo Morone, I determined15 to find out if this mythical16 invalid17 existed.
Curiously18 enough, although I was studying for the musical profession and was devoted19 to operatic performances, I had not been to the Teatro Ezzelino since my arrival at Verona, preferring to wander about the streets of the romantic old city in the moonlight to sitting night after night in a stifling20 atmosphere of heat, glare, and noise. I made up my mind, however, to go on this special night, in the hope that I might hear some talk about Pallanza's disappearance21, and be guided thereby22 in any future movements; but meantime I went to the theatre in the afternoon, and, introducing myself to the impresario23 as a friend of Guiseppe's, asked him if he had heard any news of the missing tenor24.
The impresario, a dingy25 old man of doubtful cleanliness, was in despair, and raged against the absent Pallanza like a Garrick of the gutter26. He had heard nothing of this birbánte--this ladrone who had thus disappeared, and left an honest impresario in the lurch27. "Faust" was the success of the season; without Pallanza there could be no "Faust," and the season would be a failure. What was he to do? Cospetto! it was the luck of the devil. Why had this scellerato run away? A sick friend? Bah! there was no sick friend. It was a woman who had enticed28 away this pazzo. A dying friend from Rome was not a very likely story, but a lie--a large and magnificent lie. Here was the basso of his company, who had been singing with Pallanza at the Apollo; ask him, truth is on his lips, Behold29 this good man!
Signor Basso-profundo advanced, and though truth might have been on his lips it certainly was not apparent on his face, for a more deceitful countenance30 I never beheld31. However, I have no doubt he spoke32 truth on this occasion, as there was no money to be made by telling a lie, and he confirmed the words of the wrathful impresario. The sick friend was a myth, but in Rome Pallanza had been friendly with a lady. Per Bacco! a great lady, but the name was unknown to him. It appeared that Signor Basso-profundo dressed in the same room as Pallanza, and it was just before the last act of "Faust" that Guiseppe received the note. He told the basso-profundo that it was from a dying friend, and had departed quickly when the opera was ended, in his stage-dress, with a cloak wrapped round him. The basso-profundo was sure the note was from a lady. The impresario was also sure, and devoted the lady in question to the infernal gods with a richness of expression I have never heard equalled in any language.
Having thus found out what I suspected from the first, that the dying friend was a mere33 invention to cloak an intrigue, I left the impresario to tear his hair and call Guiseppe names in company with Signor Basso-profundo, and went back to my hotel, where I found Peppino waiting with his fiacre to drive me to the Palazzo Morone.
He was still unwilling34 to take me to this place of evil reputation, and made one last effort to shake my determination by gruesome stories of people who had gone into the palazzo and never came out again; but I laughed at all these hobgoblin romances, and getting into the fiacre, told him to drive off at once, which he did, after crossing himself twice, so as to secure his own safety should the ghosts of Palazzo Morone take a fancy to carry me off as a heretic.
We speedily left the broad, modern streets, and rattled35 down gloomy, medi?val passages, the humid atmosphere of which chilled me to the bone, in spite of the heat of the day. The fiacre--with its jingling37 bells--bumped on the uneven38 stones, turned abruptly39 round unexpected corners, corkscrewed itself between narrow walls, crept under low archways, and after innumerable dodgings, twistings, hairbreadth escapes from upsettings, and perilous40 balancings on the edges of drains, at length emerged into that queer little piazza41 at the end of which I saw the great fa?ade of the richly-decorated palace I had beheld in the moonlight of two nights before.
I had been an ardent42 student of Baedeker since my arrival in Italy, and from the fortified43 appearance of the palazzo, judged that it had been built by Michelo Sammicheli, who, according to the guide-book, was the greatest military architect of the middle ages. The building was four stories high, with long lines of narrow windows closely barred by curiously ornamented44 iron cages--which bulged45 outward,---as a protection against thieves or enemies, and the whole front was adorned46 with almost obliterated47 paintings after the style of the Genoese palaces. In addition to the brush, the chisel48 had done its work, and wreaths of flowers, grinning masks, nude49 figures of boys and girls, elaborate crests50 and armorial devices with fishes, birds, tritons, shells, and fruit were sculptured round the windows, along the fortified castellated top, and over the great portal. All the square in front of this splendid specimen51 of Renaissance52 art was overgrown with grass. The houses on every side were also deserted, and what with the broken windows, the empty piazza, and the closed doors, everything had a melancholy53, desolate54 appearance, as if a curse rested upon the whole neighbourhood.
Peppino evidently was of this opinion, for although it was broad daylight, and the hot sunlight poured down on the grass-grown square, yet he kept muttering prayers in a low voice; and if by chance he looked towards the Palazza, he always crossed himself with great devoutness55. I was not, however, going to be baulked of my intention by any superstitious56 feeling on the part of an Italian cab-driver, so I ordered Peppino to tie up his horse and come with me into the palace. This modest request, however, so horrified57 Peppino that he absolutely squeaked58 with horror, like a rabbit caught in a snare59.
"I, Signore!" he whimpered, touching60 the relic61 on his breast. "Dio! not to be King of Italy would I go into that house! If you are wise, Signore, look and come away lest evil befall you. Cospetto! Signore, remember the Frate. Think of Madonna Matilda!"
"What about Madonna Matilda, Peppino?"
"Eh, Illustrious, do you not know? She was a friend of his Holiness at Canossa, and, though a woman, wanted to celebrate mass, but Il Cristo burnt her to ashes with fire from above!--and she died. Ecco! Cospetto! Signore, it is foolish to meddle62 with holy things."
"Well, you can't call this palace holy, Peppino?"
"No, Illustrious. It is accursed!" replied the Italian, crossing himself, "but there is fire below as well as above, and you are a heretic."
"Which means that I had better beware of the devil! eh, Peppino. Well, well; I'm not afraid, so I will enter the palace, and if you see me carried off by the ghosts, you can tell the carabinieri."
"Dio! Illustrious, do not jest; but if you will go you must go. I will wait here and pray for your soul."
Peppino was as obstinate63 as a mule64 in his fear of ghosts, so leaving him to smoke his long Italian cigar and watch the brown lizards65 scuttling66 over the hot stones in the sunshine, I advanced towards the palace with the determination to find out the secret chamber67. As I knew it would be dark therein, owing to its want of windows, I had taken the precaution to provide myself with a candle and a box of matches. Feeling that these were safe in my pocket, I went to the iron gate and entered the courtyard in the same way as I had done on that night. This time, however, I examined the ironwork, and found to my surprise that the missing bar had been half filed through and then wrenched68 away. The marks left were quite fresh, and it had been done so recently that the bar had not had time to grow rusty69. This discovery astonished me not a little, as I did not see the reason of such an entrance being made. If it were the Contessa who used the palace, she would have the key of the side door, and could thus admit herself and her lover at her pleasure, while this breach70 could only have been made by some one who could not enter in any other way.
I thought of the person into whose arms I had fallen, the person who had placed a handkerchief wet with some liquid over my face, and although, according to Peppino's story, this watcher at the door was the phantom of Count Mastino Morone, yet dismissing such an explanation as due to superstition71, I began to think that another person had followed the lady of the sepulchre besides myself. Yes, there could be no doubt about it, some third person had tracked her to the palazzo, and, unable to enter in the ordinary way, had filed through and broken the iron bar in the gate. Gaining access to the interior of the palazzo in this way, the unknown had penetrated72 to the secret chamber, and doubtless had witnessed the same strange scene as I had done. My presence had been discovered, and to preserve for some unknown reason, the secret of this terrible chamber, I had been seized, rendered insensible by chloroform, and taken to the Piazza Vittorio Emanuele, so that I would be unable to re-discover the Palazzo Morone.
All these thoughts flashed through my brain with the rapidity of lightning, and I wondered whom this unknown could be--a friend of Pallanza? an accomplice73 of the Contessa! I did not know what to think, so leaving all such conjectures74 to a more seasonable time, I crossed over the dreary75 courtyard and entered the great hall.
It was a magnificent entrance, and when thronged76 with courtiers, men-at-arms, pages, and ladies, must have presented a noble appearance. Of enormous size, the high walls and lofty roof were painted with glowing frescoes77 representing the ancient glories of the Republic, and the floor was brilliant with gorgeous mosaics78 of coats-of-arms and fantastic figures. The painted windows on either side of the huge portal blazed with variegated79 tints80, and the bright sun streaming in through the glass--as many-coloured as Joseph's coat--dyed the floor with vivid lights and gaudy81 hues82. Ancient tapestries83 hung here and there between the two lines of black marble columns running down the sides of the hall, and the wind, stealing in through the open door, shook the grey dust from these mouldering84 splendours of the loom36. At the end of this immense vestibule arose a broad staircase of white marble with balustrades of elaborate bronze fretwork, and from the first landing two other flights sloped off to right and left of the main branch. All the air was filled with floating shadows, the soft wind moved the hangings without sound, and I was alone in the deserted hall, over which brooded an intense silence, which made me shiver in the chill atmosphere pervading85 this abode86 of desolation.
However, the afternoon was passing quickly, and as I had plenty to do before nightfall, I rapidly ascended87 the shallow stairs. Turning to the right, which was the way the unknown lady had taken the other night, I soon found myself in the long corridor with the windows looking out on to the courtyard. Many of these were broken, but others were quite whole, their colours as bright and glowing as when they had first been placed there.
At the end of the corridor I turned to the left, and found the short flight of shallow steps, which, however, led up into darkness, so that before ascending88 them I had to light my candle. Luckily there were no draughts89, for the air was absolutely still, and the flame of my candle burned clear and steadily90. Up these steps I went, entered the short corridor, and paused before the heavy door which gave admission into the ante-chamber of the fatal room. Realizing what had taken place inside on that fatal night, I dreaded92 to enter, lest I should find the corpse93 of the unfortunate Pallanza on the floor; but overcoming my emotions, with a strong effort I thrust open the door and entered.
The tapestried94 chamber presented exactly the same appearance, with the small table in the centre, the burnt-out torch lying on the floor, and at the end the rich folds of the gold-worked curtains veiling the entrance to the inner apartment. I stood on the threshold, half expecting to hear the shrill95 notes of the mandolin, and the passionate96 song ring through the silence, but all was still and mute, as if it were indeed the tomb of the dead I expected to find.
At last, with a thrill of dread91, I parted the heavy curtains and found myself in the circular chamber. The faint light of the candle just hollowed out a gulf97 in the Cimmerian darkness, and I saw the dim glitter of the gold and silver on the table, the ghastly glimmer98 of the white cloth, and the sparks of weak fire flashing from the tarnished99 gold embroidery100 of the curtains. All was as I had seen it--the eight white pillars, the dull-red hangings with their Arabesque101 patterns of golden thread, the gilt102 table, the massive metal goblets103 and silver candelabra, even the half-eaten fruit, with everything on the table in disorder104; but, somewhat to my relief, I found nothing else. The dead body, which I had seen lying at the feet of that terrible woman, had vanished, and although I searched over every inch of the chamber, I could find no trace of the fearful crime which had been committed. The demon105 who had enticed the unhappy young man to his ruin had completed her evil work by secreting106 his body, and I began to think that all trace of Guiseppe Pallanza had disappeared from the earth for evermore.
Who was this woman who, in this room, had so wickedly slain107 her lover? Who was the man--I felt sure it was a man--who had seized me at the door, and borne me insensible from the palace? I could answer neither of these questions, and had it not been for the story of Bianca, for the disappearance of Pallanza, I would have fancied the whole some hideous108 dream, some nightmare of medieval devilry, which had filled my brain with the phantasmagoria of delirium109. Everything, however, was too real, too terrible, to admit of such an explanation; so as I could discover nothing more from examining the chamber I prepared to leave. The atmosphere yet had a faint aroma110 of the sandalwood perfume which emanated111 from the unknown woman; at my feet still lay the broken mandolin; and the rich wine-cups still glittered in the dim light. I no longer wondered at such wealth being left here undefended, for superstition, more of a safeguard than bolts and bars, protected this cave of Aladdin from thievish Italian fingers; and even if a thief had known of these riches, I doubt whether he would have had the courage to dare the unseen horrors of the palazzo.
For myself, standing112 there in the perfumed atmosphere, with the light just showing the intense gloom, the dim glitter of gold and silver, the absolute stillness and the horrible memories of the chamber--I felt as though I were in the presence of the dead. At the table sat the phantoms113 of Donna Renata and her lover, smiling at one another with hatred114 in their ghostly hearts; at the door watched the evil face of the outraged115 husband awaiting the consummation of the tragedy; and in imagination I could see the wicked smile of the woman, the scowl116 of the husband, the loathing117 look on the face of the lover. My breath, coming quick and fast, made the flame of the candle flicker118 and flare119 until, overcome by the horror of the room, and by the workings of my imagination, I turned and fled--fled from the evil gloom, from that blood-stained splendour, out into the blessed sunshine and pure air of heaven.
"Dio!" cried Peppino, as I walked quickly out into the square, "how pale you are, Illustrious! Eh, Signore, have the ghosts----"
"I have seen no ghosts, Peppino, but I have felt their presence."
"Cospetto! did I not warn the Signore against the accursed place? Come, Illustrious, jump in and we will leave this abode of devils."
"Very well, Peppino," I replied, entering the fiacre, "but drive slowly, as I want to know the way to this palazzo."
"Dio! the Signore will not come again?"
"Yes! I am coming some night this month."
"Saints! the Signore is mad and lost!" muttered Peppino with a pale face. Then, hastily gathering120 up the reins121, he drove rapidly away from the lonely square, leaving this gruesome palace to the night and to the feast of ghosts.
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1
enigma
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| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
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surmise
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| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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impunity
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| n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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7
cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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8
intrigue
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| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
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peccadilloes
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| n.轻罪，小过失( peccadillo的名词复数 ) | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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mythical
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| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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impresario
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| n.歌剧团的经理人；乐团指挥 | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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enticed
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| 诱惑，怂恿( entice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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32
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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loom
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| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
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jingling
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| 叮当声 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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piazza
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| n.广场；走廊 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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43
fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bulged
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| 凸出( bulge的过去式和过去分词 )； 充满； 塞满（某物） | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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47
obliterated
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| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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48
chisel
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| n.凿子；v.用凿子刻，雕，凿 | |
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nude
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| adj.裸体的；n.裸体者，裸体艺术品 | |
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50
crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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51
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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renaissance
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| n.复活，复兴，文艺复兴 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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54
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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55
devoutness
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| 朝拜 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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58
squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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59
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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60
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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62
meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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63
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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64
mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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65
lizards
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| n.蜥蜴( lizard的名词复数 ) | |
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66
scuttling
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| n.船底穿孔，打开通海阀（沉船用）v.使船沉没( scuttle的现在分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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67
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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68
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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69
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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70
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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71
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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72
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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73
accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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74
conjectures
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| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
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75
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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77
frescoes
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| n.壁画( fresco的名词复数 )；温壁画技法，湿壁画 | |
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78
mosaics
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| n.马赛克( mosaic的名词复数 )；镶嵌；镶嵌工艺；镶嵌图案 | |
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79
variegated
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| adj.斑驳的，杂色的 | |
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80
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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81
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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82
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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83
tapestries
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| n.挂毯( tapestry的名词复数 )；绣帷，织锦v.用挂毯（或绣帷）装饰( tapestry的第三人称单数 ) | |
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84
mouldering
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| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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86
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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87
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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89
draughts
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| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
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90
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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93
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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94
tapestried
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| adj.饰挂绣帷的，织在绣帷上的v.用挂毯（或绣帷）装饰( tapestry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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99
tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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100
embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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101
arabesque
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| n.阿拉伯式花饰；adj.阿拉伯式图案的 | |
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102
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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103
goblets
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| n.高脚酒杯( goblet的名词复数 ) | |
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104
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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105
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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106
secreting
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| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的现在分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
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107
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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108
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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109
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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110
aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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111
emanated
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| v.从…处传出，传出( emanate的过去式和过去分词 )；产生，表现，显示 | |
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112
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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113
phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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114
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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115
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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116
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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117
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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118
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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119
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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120
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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121
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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