CHAPTER VIII
A Change in the Situation
"Neither of us can any more doubt the love of the other, Ludovico mio!"Paolina had said in reply, to his pleading, "but--"
But what, tesoro mio? What 'but' can come between us, if there is nosuch doubt to come between us?" urged Ludovico, gently drawing hertowards him by the hand he still held locked in his own.
Again Paolina paused some minutes before replying, less apparently fromhesitation to speak what was in her mind, than because she was applyingher whole mind to the better understanding of her own meaning.
"It is not, that I doubt whether you love me, Ludovico mio!" she said atlength, but still without turning towards him; "I know you love me trulyand well. But I sometimes think, that you do not love me in the same waythat I love you. I never knew before that there could be different waysof loving. But now it seems to me,--and I have thought so much, oh, somuch of it,--that somehow you look less to the whole, ofeverything,--how can I say what I mean?--less to all our lives, and allour selves, in your love, than I do."
"What can you mean, Paolina? A different way of loving! I know but ofone way!" said Ludovico with a somewhat banal flourish.
"What would become of me, Ludovico mio," she said, now looking roundinto his face, with a look in her deep true eyes, that made him feel forthe moment as though all the world were truly as nothing to him, incomparison with her love;--"what would become of me, if you were tocease to love me? I should wither away, and die. It is probably whatwill happen to me!"
"Paolina!" he exclaimed, in a voice of strong reproach.
She put her hand upon his shoulder, as if to beg him to let her completewhat she wished to say, and continued,--"But what would happen to you,if I were--it is impossible, but if I were--to cease to love you? wouldnot that show you, that there is a difference between ways of loving?"
"No, cara mia, it would shew no such thing. Look now, Paolina! They tellof lovers' perjuries. But I never said one word to you that I did notbelieve to be true. Nor will I ever do so. Were you to be taken from me,by your own heart, and your own act, or in any other way, I do notbelieve that I should wither and die. But it does not follow, that Ishould suffer less. I should live on, not because my love is weaker, butbecause my body is stronger than yours. God grant that such a lot maynever befall me."
"It never can befall you, amor mio! but, Ludovico, you could not onlylive, but you could love--some other woman;" she uttered the words witha little gulp of emotion, and continued: "Do you imagine, that if Ilived to a thousand years, I could ever love any other than you?"
"What right have you to say, Paolina, that I should ever, or could everlove another but you?" said Ludovico, indignantly.
"Nay, Ludovico, must you not do so always? Are you not professing to doso even now? Are you not promising your love to the Contessa Violante?will she not have a better right to your love than I?"
Ludovico started, and drawing himself a little back from Paolina, lookedat her with reproachful surprise. It was not that he was surprised atlearning that she was aware of his engagement to the Contessa. He had,as has been said, concealed nothing from her in that respect. But he wasvexed, and surprised at the feeling she manifested on the subject.
"You surprise me, Paolina!" he said. "Would it have been better if I hadconcealed all this from you? Many men,--most men perhaps, in similarcircumstances would have done so. But I cannot treat you in that way. Ihave been, and would always be open and sincere to you in all things.You know all about this match. You know that it is a family arrangementmanaged by my uncle. You know, that if I wished it ever so much, I can'tavoid it. You know, or ought to know, that it is not, and cannot be amatter of affection in any way. You know that in the world suchmarriages are arranged and are known and understood to be arranged, forreasons, and on ground with which love has nothing to do. Does not allRavenna know, including the lady herself doubtless, that I am to marryher because she is the great-niece of the Cardinal Legate? Can I beexpected to love her, because she is the Cardinal's niece? Surely, myPaolina, you are not speaking or thinking of this matter, with yourusual good sense!"
"I can't help it, Ludovico; I am, at all events speaking with my wholeheart!" she said in a tone of profound sadness. "If what you say istrue,--and do not imagine, dearest, that I have the smallest doubt thatall you say to me is entirely and perfectly true,--just think of the lotof that povera Contessa Violante! Poverina! I dare say she,--think ofthe wrong I should be doing her! Think how she would hate me!" Sheshuddered as she spoke. "Nobody, I think, ever hated me yet," shecontinued; "and it seems to me so horrible to be hated. And morehorrible still to know that I should be justly hated! And then, tesoromio!--Mio!--How could I ever say mio? Never, never, never, mio!" shecried, bursting into passionate tears. "No, never mine! The very worditself, which comes so naturally to my lips, tells me, like a knell inmy heart, that it can never be!"
"But, Paolina, angiola mia," said Ludovico, who had heard her with alook of consternation, "what has thus changed you? For it is a change.You knew all these things before. What has occurred to put such notionsinto your mind all of a sudden?"
"Not all of a sudden, Ludovico! The blessed Virgin knows for how manysad and solitary hours I have been thinking, and thinking, and thinkingof all this! She knows how many nights I have passed in tears to thinkof it. What has put it into my head, you say? Ludovico, it is my lovefor you that has put it into my head! It is my strong love that hasopened my eyes, and made me see that I cannot--cannot--I mean--that Icannot share your love with another!"
The words came forced from her with a great effort, and with a sob thatseemed as if it would choke her.
"Oh my Paolina, what words are these?" said he, his own voice tremblingwith trouble and emotion.
"It is true, Ludovico! It is my true love that has opened my eyes. Ifear that I have done very wrong; and the blessed Saints know that Ishall have my punishment! I have done wrong in loving you, and lettingyou love me! But I did not know it, I did not think, I did not see whereI was going! I ought to have known that love was not for a poor girllike me! I ought to have known that evil and misery would come. But tillI loved you with my whole, whole heart, Ludovico; and till I found outthat I did, I did not know that--that it would be so,--that I shouldfeel as I feel now."
Ludovico got up from his seat, and began walking up and down the floorof the little room, sighing deeply, and passing his hand again and againacross his forehead. Presently he sat down again, bringing his chair soas to front her fully as he sat.
"Paolina," he said, looking sadly into her eyes with a deeper meaning inhis own than she had ever seen there; "your words have made me very,very miserable! I never in all my life was so unhappy as I am now. Youmust listen now, my Paolina, to what I am going to say; and you mustthink well before you answer me. You see, dearest, that it is necessarythat we should quite understand this matter, and understand each other.Many men, if they had been told what you have now told me, would beginto reproach a girl with not loving them,--to say that it was clear shedid not care for them. I will not do so. I will not pretend to thinkthat you do not love me. I know that you do, as well as you know that Ilove you with my whole heart. And with this knowledge in both ourhearts, think what is the meaning and the end of what you have beensaying. You know that this marriage is inevitable! And the consequenceof it is to be that we two are both to be broken-hearted,--to condemnourselves to pass loveless lives,--to give each other up,--see eachother no more,--make all the future a blank to both of us. Good God,Paolina! You cannot mean that!"
"When you have married, Ludovico mio,--when I have said those dear wordsfor the last, last time, you will have plenty of things to make youforget your poor Paolina! And for me, I shall be heart-broken doing nowrong to any other, instead of heart-broken and doing terrible wrong allthe time! And, dearest, it would be worse than heart-break. I couldnot--it is stronger than I am! It seems like a new horrible thing shownto me, which I never saw or thought of before! When i
t comes close to meI shudder at the thought--."
"At what thought, Paolina? At the thought of my being married to theContessa Violante?" asked Ludovico, looking steadfastly into her eyes.
She bore his gaze without withdrawing her sad, still eyes for awhile,thinking deeply before she answered.
"No, Ludovico; not at the thought of your being married to the ContessaViolante! That is a thought which may break my heart. But it does notmake me shudder, as that other thought does;--the thought of--of--- ofloving one, who--who--who owes his love to another; the thought oftaking by stealth whatever share of love may be given to me stolen fromthe rightful owner. Never! never! never! Would you then be mine,--allmine, for ever, and ever, and ever! Oh, my love, my love! If you don'tunderstand this, love has not opened your eyes as it has mine. Do youthink that I could endure the thought of being married to another man?The bare notion is horror--horror--HORROR! Would I not rather die thisminute; ay, or die a thousand times!"
Again Ludovico got up from his chair and paced the room, sometimesstopping abruptly in apparently deep thought, and sometimes resuming hiswalk with every appearance of despair in his face and gestures. It isneedless to say that Paolina had spoken the very inmost truth that wasin her heart in all its entirety; but she had also succeeded in makinghim feel that it was so.
There is often a feeling in a man's mind on such occasions--a feelingtoo closely allied to selfishness--which leads him to be dissatisfiedwith what seems to him the unwillingness of a woman to make sacrificesto her love. And often a woman, knowing this, and calculating mostlyfalsely, is urged to yield by a desire of proving that she does notdeserve such a suspicion. But Ludovico had no such thought in his mind.He knew that Paolina had not only spoken truly, but had represented hermind accurately. It was not that she "respected herself." The poor childhad never received any lessons which could teach her such respect. Shehad been perfectly ready to accept the social position of Ludovico'smistress, until the power of a great, true, and pure love had unsealedthe eyes of her understanding, of her imagination, and of her heart tothe nature--not of the social position of such a tie as that proposed toher--but of the absolute imperious necessity of sharing such a love withnone. Putting all notion of principle, of duty, of the understoodexpediency of conforming to laws divine, and human, out of the question,such a love as Paolina felt demands this with a cogency of insistencethat cannot be set aside. And the man who hopes, or flatters himself, orsuffers himself to be persuaded that such a love has been given to himupon any other terms, is--he may rely upon it with the certainty due toan eternal law of nature--deceived. The quality of the love which mayhave so been given to him is of a different kind.
After awhile Ludovico came again and stopped directly in front of thechair in which Paolina was sitting; but he remained standing, andplacing his two hands, one on either of her shoulders, and looking downinto her face with moist eyes, he said,--"My love, my true and best--myonly love! I cannot lose you, Paolina; I cannot give you up.Truly--truly I had rather that any other thing--any other evil thatcould happen, should happen to me. We are, and we must be, all in all toeach other, my Paolina, now and ever. There is no alternativepossibility to this. Love has opened my eyes, too, my darling angel!Your love has opened my eyes; I will know no other love,--no otherwoman--call none other wife but you! Paolina, you will be mine?--my all?my only one?"
"Ludovico!" she exclaimed, looking up at him with an ecstasy of joy, andyet with a great terror upon her face; "but what will happen--what willhappen to you? What will be done to me?"
"We must see, my heart's treasure! We must have patience; you must trustto me. You do trust me, non e vero? I must put off this marriage; thenfind means to break it. And, after all, what can my uncle do? I amdependent on him while he lives; but I must succeed to all he has whenhe dies. My promised wife! Are you mine--mine for ever? Will you now putyour dear little hand in mine, and promise me, and have faith in me, andwait for me, and have patience till I can see my way, and love me allthe time, my own--my darling?"
"I am your own, Ludovico;--yours, any way: to live for you, if such alot may be mine; to die still yours, if it may not! Wait! Patience! Whatshall tire my patience? So I know that you are loving me--me only--allthe time, I shall ask nothing more! But, oh, I am so frightened! Andthen I shall be a cause of such mischief and trouble to you. Would itnot have been better for you if you had never seen poor Paolina?"
"No, no, no, no! It would have been a thousand million times worse forme! Be of good heart, my treasure; nothing can hurt you. We must keepour secret for a while; and nothing will hurt me, if we manage well. ButI must think; my mind is in a confusion;--a joyful confusion, dearest!But I must think it all over. If you see me less often, be sure that itis because I am planning for our happiness. And now, darling,--my own,my own, now really and for ever, my own--one kiss to seal our contract!You won't refuse me that. I take you thus in my arms, my Paolina; forthe first time as your promised husband. Good-night--good-night--my own!I trust I may be able to think of what I am doing at the Palazzotonight. Good-night, my own!"
And thus the Marchese Ludovico returned that evening to the PalazzoCastelmare, about an hour after Signor Ercole Stadione had quitted it;pledged to find some means of breaking off the match with the ContessaViolante Marliani, to which all Ravenna was looking forward, and engagedto be married to the little obscure Venetian orphan artist.
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