t at all. I enjoyed
seeing Pertici; having become old, and not being able to sing any more,
he acted, and, strange to say, acted well; for, as a rule, all singers,
men and women, trust to their voice and care nothing for acting, so that
an ordinary cold entirely disables them for the time being.
Next day I called on the banker, Sasso Sassi, on whom I had a good letter
of credit, and after an excellent dinner I dressed and went to the opera
an via della Pergola, taking a stage box, not so much for the music, of
which I was never much of an admirer, as because I wanted to look at the
actress.
The reader may guess my delight and surprise when I recognised in the
prima donna Therese, the false Bellino, whom I had left at Rimini in the
year 1744; that charming Therese whom I should certainly have married if
M. de Gages had not put me under arrest. I had not seen her for seventeen
years, but she looked as beautiful and ravishing as ever as she came
forward on the stage. It seemed impossible. I could not believe my eyes,
thinking the resemblance must be a coincidence, when, after singing an
air, she fixed her eyes on mine and kept them there. I could no longer
doubt that it was she; she plainly recognized me. As she left the stage
she stopped at the wings and made a sign to me with her fan to come and
speak to her.
I went out with a beating heart, though I could not explain my
perturbation, for I did not feel guilty in any way towards Therese, save
in that I had not answered the last letter she had written me from
Naples, thirteen years ago. I went round the theatre, feeling a greater
curiosity as to the results of our interview than to know what had
befallen her during the seventeen years which seemed an age to me.
I came to the stage-door, and I saw Therese standing at the top of the
stair. She told the door-keeper to let me pass; I went up and we stood
face to face. Dumb with surprise I took her hand and pressed it against
my heart.
"Know from that beating heart," said I, "all that I feel."
"I can't follow your example," said she, "but when I saw you I thought I
should have fainted. Unfortunately I am engaged to supper. I shall not
shut my eyes all night. I shall expect you at eight o'clock to-morrow
morning. Where are you staying?"
"At Dr. Vannini's."
"Under what name?"
"My own."
"How long have you been here?"
"Since yesterday."
"Are you stopping long in Florence?"
"As long as you like."
"
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