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CHAPTER XVII.

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anger is said to be a revolution of the blood about the heart, which warms up at sight of the object which inflamed it, and sometimes with the bare recollection of the offence. it hath for its final goal and resting place, vengeance, which, when it is taken upon the offender with or without reason, calms the ire. this would lead us to suppose the beautiful ruperta passionate and vindictive, and with so strong a desire to be revenged upon her enemy, that even if she knew that he was dead, her hatred would extend to his descendants, of whom she would not wish to leave one alive, for the wrath of a woman is boundless.

the hour came when the pilgrims were to see her, themselves unseen. they saw her extremely lovely, with a long and flowing white veil, which reached from her head to her feet, as she was seated before a table, on which was placed the head of her murdered lord in its silver case, the sword that had deprived him of life, and a shirt, which was all stained with his blood.

all these melancholy memorials reawakened her anger, which needed no arousing, for it never slept; she arose from her seat, and putting her right hand upon the head, she began to renew the vow of which the mourning squire had told them; showers of tears rained from her eyes, enough to have bathed the sad relics in, sighs burst from her heart, which filled the air far and near; to the usual form of her vow she added words of more intense hatred, so that at times it almost seemed as if fire instead of tears sparkled in her eyes, and from her mouth proceeded smoke instead of sighs, such a slave was she to her passionate desire for revenge—see her weep, see her sigh, see her beside herself, see her brandish the murderous steel, see her kiss the bloodstained shirt, and hear the sobs that impede her words; but, wait only till the morrow, and you will see things that would give you something to talk of for a thousand years, if you were to live so long.

ruperta was still in the midst of her passionate grief, when one of her attendants entered like a dark phantom, for he was clad in deep mourning vestments, and, in trembling accents, he said,

"lady, the son of your enemy has just alighted with several servants at the door of this inn, croriano, the gallant, as he is called. think whether it is your pleasure to discover your being here to him, and if you wish he should know it, or what you like to do, whilst you have time to consider it."

"let him know nothing about my being here," answered ruperta; "and warn all my servants that they take care not to mention my name, nor discover me to him."

so saying, she gathered up her tokens, and commanded the room to be closed, and that no one should enter it.

the pilgrims returned to theirs; she remained alone and very thoughtful. i cannot tell how it came to be known that she spoke aloud to the following effect, but so it was, in these, or very nearly these, words:—

"behold now, o ruperta, how heaven in its justice has brought hither, like a victim to the sacrifice, the very soul of thine enemy; for sons, and most of all, an only son, are like a part of their father's self. forget, o ruperta, that thou art a woman, and if thou canst not forget that, then think that thou art a justly incensed one, and that thy husband's blood cries to thee for vengeance; and this poor speechless head is saying, 'revenge me, sweet wife, on him who murdered me, guiltless as i was of all offence! remember judith who was not afraid of the brave holofernes.' it is true that my case is different from hers; she chastised an enemy of her god, and i would punish one who is not even mine own enemy; love of her country placed in her hands the steel, and love of a dead husband places it in mine; but why do i delay, making these senseless comparisons? what have i to do but to shut my eyes and bury the steel deep in this boy's heart; the more innocent he, the greater will my vengeance be. let me then exalt the avenger's name, and let come what may, i must accomplish my task, and do the deed, even though it should be my own death."

having thus resolved, she took measures to get admittance into the chamber where croriano slept. she easily gained this by means of one of his servants, who was won over by her gold, thinking also that he was not doing any very ill office to his master in bringing so beautiful a lady into his apartment. she concealed herself in a part where she could not be seen, and committing her fate to heaven, buried in the profoundest silence, she awaited the moment of her long desired revenge.

she had taken, as the instrument whereby to effect this, a sharp knife, which she thought would be the least embarrassing and most handy weapon she could choose: she also had with her a small lamp, in which burned a wax light. she hardly dared to breathe. what will not a furious woman dare to do? what heaps of difficulties will she not trample under foot? what enormous cruelties will not seem to her like the gentlest deeds?

at length the hour arrived;—croriano entered his room, and fatigued with his journey, went immediately to bed, giving himself up (little dreaming of death so near) to repose.

ruperta listened attentively to ascertain whether croriano slept or no, and having satisfied herself that he slept, both from the length of time that he had been in bed, and from certain long-drawn breaths, which none but sleepers give, she opened her lamp to find her way across the room, and without either crossing herself, or invoking any saint to assist her, she made her way to the bedside. ah, beauteous murderess, lovely fury, charming executioner, now satisfy thy fierce wrath: strike the blow and blot out thy injury for ever; for there he lies before thee, on whom thou mayest wreak thy long desired revenge. but pause an instant, o beautiful ruperta, and take one look before thou strikest, or rather do not look upon that most lovely cupid who lies sleeping there, for in a moment that sight will effect a change in the whole tenour of thy thoughts.

she reached the bed, and with a trembling hand removed the coverlet from the face of croriano, who was buried in a profound sleep:—medusa's head which changed the gazer into marble, never produced a more sudden effect. struck by the sight of so much beauty, she let fall the murderous knife, and this afforded her time to reflect for a moment upon the deed she was about to commit. the exceeding beauty of the youth dispersed the shades of death that hung over him, as the sun's rays melt the snow, and he no longer appeared to her in the light of a victim to a cruel sacrifice, but rather as a holy peace offering.

"ah!" said she to herself, "noble youth, thou art fitter far to be my husband than the object of my vengeance; what part hast thou in thy father's crime? why shouldst thou be punished who hast done no fault? live and be happy, thou lovely youth, and my revenge and cruelty shall sleep within my own breast: a better name it will make for me to be called the forgiving instead of the revengeful." as these thoughts passed through her mind, troubled and repentant, she let her lamp fall from her hand upon the sleeper, who awoke. the light was extinguished, and ruperta hoped to escape in the darkness, but could not find her way out. meantime croriano called aloud for his attendants, and snatching up his sword, leaped out of bed. he soon found and seized ruperta, who trembling, said, "do not kill me, croriano, though i am a woman who not an hour ago could have killed thee, and now i am reduced to beg my life at thy hands."

at this crisis the servants rushed in with lights, and saw croriano, and recognized the beautiful widow, who looked like the resplendent moon enveloped in white clouds.

"what can this mean, lady ruperta?" he asked; "is this the vengeance you have sworn to execute; and do you desire that i should pay for my father's injustice? what means this knife i see? what can it mean but that you came to be my executioner? my father is already dead, and the dead can no longer afford satisfaction for the offences they have committed; the living can, and i, who now represent my father, will gladly make any amends in my power for the injury he did to you; but first let me touch you, and see whether you are indeed flesh and blood, or a phantom sent to kill or to delude me, or it may be, sent for my good." "and for my hurt," said ruperta, "if indeed heaven can find a sadder fate for me than i have hitherto experienced. you came to this house; i did not see you, but i heard your name, which aroused my angry feelings, and incited me to vengeance. i bribed one of your servants to admit me into your sleeping apartment. i came here, prepared as you may see, and in the full intention of taking your life. when i found that you were asleep, i left my hiding-place, and by the light of the lamp which i had brought with me, i uncovered and saw your face, which filled me with feelings of respect and reverence, so that it blunted the steel which i held, and my desire for vengeance died away. i let the lamp fall—it awoke you—you cried out. i remained in great perplexity; hence all that you have seen. i no longer feel the desire for revenge, nor to remember my injury. live in peace; i wish to be the first to ask forgiveness myself, if i have not already pardoned you for the fault you never committed."

"lady," answered croriano, "my father wished to marry you, but you rejected him. in his anger he slew your husband:—he is dead, and his crime has gone with him to another world. i am left as a part of him to do what i can for the good of his soul. mine is yours if you will have it. take me as your husband, if you are not, as i said before, a delusive phantom; so great a piece of good fortune coming thus suddenly must bring suspicion along with it."

"give me your hand, my lord," answered she, "and you will find that i am no phantom, and that the heart i shall bestow on you is simple, pure, and true." the servants were made to witness their betrothal. that night sweet peace triumphed over grim war. the field of battle was changed for the bridal bed: love sprang out of hatred, life from death, and happiness from discontent.

when the pilgrims came on the following morning to know what the mourning ruperta had done about the arrival of her enemy's son, of which they had been told, they learned the story of the new betrothal; and as they went to offer their congratulations to the young pair, at the entrance of ruperta's apartment they met the ancient squire, who had related to them her story, laden with the silver case, wherein the skull of her deceased husband was enshrined, and with the blood stained shirt and sword that had so often renewed the grief of ruperta, and he said he was to remove them to where the sight should never again disturb the glorious present with the mournful memory of the past. he murmured at ruperta's inconstancy, and at that of women in general; the smallest of the faults he charged them with was caprice.

nevertheless, both ruperta's and croriano's attendants rejoiced, and the little inn seemed changed into a royal palace fit for such great espousals.

periander, auristella, constance, and antonio had much discourse with the betrothed pair, and made them acquainted with as much of their own history as was necessary.

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