is time resentment had died out so much,
that Tartini and his young wife were permitted to resume their romance.
They went to Venice. Later his ambition for the violin caused them to
separate, but finally they returned to Padua to live. Burney says that
his wife was "of the Xantippe sort." His love story somewhat suggests
that of Desmarets, who also had to flee for his life in consequence of
a secret marriage, and who was twenty-two years appeasing the wrath of
the aristocratic family.

A contemporary violinist and composer was Benedetto Marcello, whose
melodramatic affair has been described by Crowest and may be quoted
here, with full permission to believe as much of it as you please.

"Marcello was the victim of a hopeless passion for a beautiful lady,
Leonora Manfrotti, and on the occasion of her marriage to Paolo
Seranzo, a Venetian of high rank, Marcello was unwise enough to send
her a rose and a billet-doux containing words more complimentary to the
lady's beauty than to her taste in the choice of a husband. This
epistle, coming to Seranzo's notice, caused him so violent a fit of
jealousy that he tormented his young wife by supervision and suspicion
to such an extent that she actually sank under his ill-treatment and
died. Her body was laid out in state in the church 'Dei Frari,' and
here Marcello seeing it, learned the ill effects of his rash passion.
He fell into a state of melancholy madness, and at last, having with
the craft and ingenuity of a madman succeeded in stealing the body of
his love, he conveyed it to a ruined crypt in one of the neighbouring
islands, which, bearing the reputation of being haunted, was seldom
visited by any one. Here, watched only by a faithful old nurse, he sat
day and night watching the dead form of Leonora, singing and playing to
it as though by the force of music he would recall her to life.

"Long ere this, Venice, and indeed Italy, was full of excitement at the
composition of some unknown musician (no other than Marcello). Among
other admirers of this music was Eliade, twin sister of Leonora, and
resembling her so closely that even friends could scarcely distinguish
her. Eliade had even been effected to insensibility by the strain of
the unknown, and hearing one day a gondola pass, in which a voice was
singing one of the songs which was an especial favourite, in such a way
as she had never heard it sung before, she followed and traced the
gondola to the deserted island. A vi