The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 322: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. , $11 Poured great privalious and gone through incal- ; childhoud, had probably sugyestui this thought: culable sufferings; for being unable to refer to his / and accordingly, ae she grew up, the best masters last situation, he failed to procure another. In | in the Torpsichorean art were engaged to render short, dire necessity drove them hoth to join a/| her proficient. Meanwhile Signor Vivaldi had taken troop of strolling players; and as my father was a | a great fancy to me, and was accustomed to have very handsome man, and my mother a most beau- | me at his studio during my leisure hours to teach tifu] woman, they were received into the troop more | me his own art. At that period painting in fast on account of their personal attractions than for | colours upon ivory was greatly in vogue in the any histrionic talente which they possessed. Not-| Tuscan States; and I acquired a taste for this withstanding my mother’s great beauty and the | beautiful study. It was somewhat out of the way ‘temptations to which as a poor actress ahe was con- of Signor Vivaldi’s genius; but still, as a great stantly exposed, I feel proud in being enabled to | artist, his suggestions were most valuable; and pay this tribute to’ her memory, by assuring you | under his supervision I copied with some success that her character was retained unimpeachable until his own fine pictares on miniature ivory-plates. the last. During her leisure hours she instructed : Thus was it that time passed on until two years me and Angela in the rudiments of education: for back, when I reached the age of about seventeen, she herself had been well educated. She died when and my sister was consequently sixteen. At this I was about eight years old; and I recullect how period a terrible calamity ccourred to us. Our bitter was my grief. Nor did little Angela fail to father was smitten with paralysis, which from the appresiate even more keenly than might be ex- : very first threatened to prove fatal. For two or pected in a child of her age, the great lows we had! three weeks he was anconscious of everything that sustained. My father was inconsolable; and for | passed around him; but at length he rallied some- some weeks he was utterly unable to parsue his | what, and partially recovered the use of his speech. professional avocations. The consequence was that | I am now about tu spesk of his death-bed: for the penury and want entered our little lodging, and our | flaming up of life's lamp was only a transient glow sufferings were great.” ere it suddenly became extinguished for ever. Ab! Here Florina pressed her lover's band between | full well do I recollect that final scene! It was both her own, and gased upon him with tearful | midnight—the candles were burning inthe chamber, | . louks. The glances that he bent upon her in re- | so soon to be that of death—the physicians were on turn were full of affectionate gratitude for the | one side of the couch—Angela and myself were on sympathy which she thus mutely but eloquently | the other. Our poor fatner, who in his last mo- testified; and his narrative was continued in the ments completely recovered his intellect and par- following terms :— tially his voice, intimated that he had some import- * Necvssity compelled my father to subdue his ant secret to reveal. As he thus spoke he fixed his grief as much as he wes able, and appear again | eyes earnestly upon me, and gave me to understand upon the stage. The very firat night that he thus | that it was specially with regard to myself that he came forth again in some large provincial town—I | had to speak. But a sudden dimness came upon forget which—his fine person attracted the nutice | his eyes—his countenance grew convulsed—it was of an eminent Italian painter who was on a visit | evident that he battled with all his remaining to this country for the purpose of bebolding the | energies against the Destroyer in order that he progress of its arts and sciences. He was at that | might gain a few moments’ respite to reveal the particular period making 8 tour in the provinces; | secret to which he had alluded. But death’s grasp and accident led him to visit the theatre on the | was fixed too powerfully upon him: he merely gave apecial occasion referred to. On the following | utterance toa fow words, of which ‘ strolling players’ day he made inqairies for my father’s abode— | ——‘ manager'——‘T ’——=' could tell ait’ called, and represented that if my father would | —were alone distinguishable: and then he gave up accompany him back to Italy, be would be sure to | the ghost.” make a good income by serving as a model for| Here William Deveril paused; and tears statted painters and sculptors. Signor Vivaldi—for that | from his eyes as he mournfully pondered upon that was the name of the Italian—offered to pay all the | death-scene, now so vividly brought back to his travelling expenses for my father and his children; | memory. Florina pressed his hand in silence. She and in short, behaved so liberally that his proposal | felt that his sorrow was too sacred to be intruded was accepted. We accordingly repaired to Italy, | upon by words; but her looks and her tears also and took up our abode in Florence, Signor Vivaldi’s | showed how much she sympathised with her lover. native city. The promises which he had held out,| ‘“‘ Whatever my father’s secret might have been,” were fully realized; and my father earned a com- | he at length resumed, “it appears to have died with petency. Signor Vivaldi was an elderly man; and | bim—unless indeed the few unconnected words though he obtained large prices for his pictures, } which my ear managed to catch up in his last mo- yet he had a number of profligate relations de- | ments, should ever serve as a clue to the develop- pendent upon him, and to whom he was too kind— | ment of the mystery. What the secret could be, or " and thus he was always poor. My father had be- | how it might affeet me more than Angela, I could come quite a steady man, and learnt to appreciate | not possibly conjecture—nor can I now. It is jse- the value of money. He gave myself and Angela | lees therefore to dwell upon it. The remains of our an excellent education,—taking pride indeed to | poor father were interred in the picturesque ceme- economize as much as possible with regard to his | tery outside the walls of Florence; and Angela and own expenditure, that he might accomplish this. | I mingled our tears over the grave of the departed. His great aim, and indeed his ruling idea, was to | But we were not without friends to succour and con- make a splendid dancer of Angela. The taste | sole us. In consequence of the expensive education which she had exhibited for the art even from her| which our father had given us, he died pour. In- | COMIC LOO erm a a