, my friend: and away, out of my sight, show yourself
no more!'

Luigi humbly said that he was not the instrument of a fiasco.

Half spurning him, Antonio-Pericles snarled an end both to his advices
and his prophetic disgust of the miserable tools furnished unto masterly
minds upon this earth. He paced forward and back, murmuring in French,
'Mon Dieu! was there ever such a folly as in the head of this girl? It
is her occasion:--Shall I be a Star? Shall I be a Cinder? It is tomorrow
night her moment of Birth! No; she prefers to be extinguished. For what?
For this thing she calls her country. It is infamous. Yes, vile little
cheat! But, do you know Antonio-Pericles? Not yet. I will nourish you,
I will imprison you: I will have you tortured by love, by the very devil
of love, by the red-hot pincers of love, till you scream a music, and
die to melt him with your voice, and kick your country to the gutter,
and know your Italy for a birthplace and a cradle of Song, and no more,
and enough! Bah!'

Having thus delivered himself of the effervescence of his internal
agitation, he turned sharply round upon Luigi, with a military stamp of
the foot and shout of the man's name.

'It is love she wants,' Antonio-Pericles resumed his savage soliloquy.
'She wants to be kindled on fire. Too much Government of brain; not
sufficient Insurrection of heart! There it is. There it lies. But,
little fool! you shall find people with arms and shots and cannon
running all up and down your body, firing and crying out "Victory for
Love!" till you are beaten, till you gasp "Love! love! love!" and then
comes a beatific--oh! a heaven and a hell to your voice. I will pay,'
the excited connoisseur pursued more deliberately: 'I will pay half my
fortune to bring this about. I am fortified, for I know such a voice was
sent to be sublime.' He exclaimed in an ecstasy: 'It opens the skies!'
and immediately appended: 'It is destined to suffocate the theatres!'

Pausing as before a splendid vision: 'Money--let it go like dust! I have
an object. Sandra Belloni--you stupid Vittoria Campa!--I have millions
and the whole Austrian Government to back me, and you to be wilful,
little rebel! I could laugh. It is only Love you want. Your voice is
now in a marble chamber. I will put it in a palace of cedarwood. This
Ammiani I let visit you in the hope that he would touch you.

Bah! he is a patriot--not a man! He cannot make you wince and pine, and
be cold and be hot,