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Rodolphe； leaning against the door…post； looked at the Princess；
turning on her the fixed； tenacious； attracting gaze； charged with the
full； insistent will which is concentrated in the feeling called
desire； and thus assumes the nature of a vehement command。 Did the
flame of that gaze reach Francesca？ Was Francesca expecting each
instant to see Rodolphe？ In a few minutes she stole a glance at the
door； as though magnetized by this current of love； and her eyes；
without reserve； looked deep into Rodolphe's。 A slight thrill quivered
through that superb face and beautiful body； the shock to her spirit
reacted： Francesca blushed！ Rodolphe felt a whole life in this
exchange of looks； so swift that it can only be compared to a
lightning flash。 But to what could his happiness compare？ He was
loved。 The lofty Princess； in the midst of her world； in this handsome
villa； kept the pledge given by the disguised exile； the capricious
beauty of Bergmanns' lodgings。 The intoxication of such a moment
enslaves a man for life！ A faint smile； refined and subtle； candid and
triumphant； curled Princess Gandolphini's lips； and at a moment when
she did not feel herself observed she looked at Rodolphe with an
expression which seemed to ask his pardon for having deceived him as
to her rank。
When the song was ended Rodolphe could make his way to the Prince； who
graciously led him to his wife。 Rodolphe went through the ceremonial
of a formal introduction to Princess and Prince Colonna； and to
Francesca。 When this was over； the Princess had to take part in the
famous quartette； /Mi manca la voce/； which was sung by her with
Tinti； with the famous tenor Genovese； and with a well…known Italian
Prince then in exile； whose voice； if he had not been a Prince； would
have made him one of the Princes of Art。
〃Take that seat；〃 said Francesca to Rodolphe； pointing to her own
chair。 〃/Oime/！ I think there is some mistake in my name； I have for
the last minute been Princess Rodolphini。〃
It was said with the artless grace which revived； in this avowal
hidden beneath a jest； the happy days at Gersau。 Rodolphe reveled in
the exquisite sensation of listening to the voice of the woman he
adored； while sitting so close to her that one cheek was almost
touched by the stuff of her dress and the gauze of her scarf。 But
when； at such a moment； /Mi manca la voce/ is being sung； and by the
finest voices in Italy； it is easy to understand what it was that
brought the tears to Rodolphe's eyes。
In love； as perhaps in all else； there are certain circumstances；
trivial in themselves； but the outcome of a thousand little previous
incidents； of which the importance is immense； as an epitome of the
past and as a link with the future。 A hundred times already we have
felt the preciousness of the one we love； but a triflethe perfect
touch of two souls united during a walk perhaps by a single word； by
some unlooked…for proof of affection； will carry the feeling to its
supremest pitch。 In short； to express this truth by an image which has
been pre…eminently successful from the earliest ages of the world；
there are in a long chain points of attachment needed where the
cohesion is stronger than in the intermediate loops of rings。 This
recognition between Rodolphe and Francesca； at this party； in the face
of the world； was one of those intense moments which join the future
to the past； and rivet a real attachment more deeply in the heart。 It
was perhaps of these incidental rivets that Bossuet spoke when he
compared to them the rarity of happy moments in our liveshe who had
such a living and secret experience of love。
Next to the pleasure of admiring the woman we love； comes that of
seeing her admired by every one else。 Rodolphe was enjoying both at
once。 Love is a treasury of memories； and though Rodolphe's was
already full； he added to it pearls of great price； smiles shed aside
for him alone； stolen glances； tones in her singing which Francesca
addressed to him alone； but which made Tinti pale with jealousy； they
were so much applauded。 All his strength of desire； the special
expression of his soul； was thrown over the beautiful Roman； who
became unchangeably the beginning and the end of all his thoughts and
actions。 Rodolphe loved as every woman may dream of being loved； with
a force； a constancy； a tenacity； which made Francesca the very
substance of his heart； he felt her mingling with his blood as purer
blood； with his soul as a more perfect soul； she would henceforth
underlie the least efforts of his life as the golden sand of the
Mediterranean lies beneath the waves。 In short； Rodolphe's lightest
aspiration was now a living hope。
At the end of a few days； Francesca understood this boundless love；
but it was so natural； and so perfectly shared by her； that it did not
surprise her。 She was worthy of it。
〃What is there that is strange？〃 said she to Rodolphe； as they walked
on the garden terrace； when he had been betrayed into one of those
outbursts of conceit which come so naturally to Frenchmen in the
expression of their feelings〃what is extraordinary in the fact of
your loving a young and beautiful woman； artist enough to be able to
earn her living like Tinti； and of giving you some of the pleasures of
vanity？ What lout but would then become an Amadis？ This is not in
question between you and me。 What is needed is that we both love
faithfully； persistently； at a distance from each other for years；
with no satisfaction but that of knowing that we are loved。〃
〃Alas！〃 said Rodolphe； 〃will you not consider my fidelity as devoid of
all merit when you see me absorbed in the efforts of devouring
ambition？ Do you imagine that I can wish to see you one day exchange
the fine name of Gandolphini for that of a man who is a nobody？ I want
to become one of the most remarkable men of my country； to be rich；
greatthat you may be as proud of my name as of your own name of
Colonna。〃
〃I should be grieved to see you without such sentiments in your
heart；〃 she replied； with a bewitching smile。 〃But do not wear
yourself out too soon in your ambitious labors。 Remain young。 They say
that politics soon make a man old。〃
One of the rarest gifts in women is a certain gaiety which does not
detract from tenderness。 This combination of deep feeling with the
lightness of youth added an enchanting grace at this moment to
Francesca's charms。 This is the key to her character； she laughs and
she is touched； she becomes enthusiastic； and returns to arch raillery
with a readiness； a facility； which makes her the charming and
exquisite creature she is； and for which her reputation is known
outside Italy。 Under the graces of a woman she conceals vast learning；
thanks to the excessively monotonous and almost monastic life she led
in the castle of the old Colonnas。
This rich heiress was at first intended for the cloister； being the
fourth child of Prince and Princess Colonna； but the death of her two
brothers； and of her elder sister； suddenly brought her out of her
retirement； and made her one of the most brilliant matches in the
Papal States。 Her elder sister had been betrothed to Prince
Gandolphi