rsini badge, no
one can tell.

Stradella and his wife lodged for a few days in that large upper room,
of which the beautiful loggia may still be seen from the new embankment;
but in those days, and much later, another row of tall houses stood on
the opposite side of the street, between the Orso and the river, making
an unbroken line as far as the Nona tower at the Bridge of Sant' Angelo,
and completely cutting off the view. It was the best of the Roman inns,
even when Rome had more hostelries than any city in Europe. Philippe de
Commines lodged there, and Montaigne, and many another famous man who
visited Rome before and after Stradella's time.

It was there, in that upper chamber, that the happy lovers first tasted
peace and rest after the trials and fatigues of their long journey; for
though they were man and wife it is but right to call them lovers, who
loved so truly till they died. It was there that they first learned to
know and understand each other, and to see why they had loved at first
sight and had fled together, wresting their happiness violently from an
adverse fate, when they had been alone scarcely one whole hour in all
during their brief acquaintance, and had kissed but twice.

For as they lived those first days together they found all they had
dreamed of, each in the other, and more too; and every fresh discovery
was a sweet new world, till many worlds made up the universe of their
new being that circled round love's sun in a firmament of joy. Love had
been great from the first, but now he grew to be all-powerful; there had
been hours when one or the other might have been persuaded to draw back
for some weighty reason, but no reason was strong enough to part them
now, not even the great last argument of death himself.

Surely, say you, the course of true love should have run smooth for
them, if ever. But know you not that the gods envy no small thing, nor
are angry at any humdrum happiness of common men? Know you not that the
god of war spares the coward and slays the brave? That in the race for
fortune Jove often trips the swiftest runners and lets the dull plodder
creep past the winning post alone? Know you not that whom the gods love
die young?

Ortensia and Stradella knew none of these things. He had grown famous
almost without an effort when scarcely more than a boy, and fame did not
desert him; and now that he had overcome obstacles and passed through
danger to be happy, he believed with chil