Crucial Instances | Page 7

of the fine weather had put on a gown of
shot-silver and hung her bare shoulders with pearls, so that she looked
fit to dance at court with an emperor. She had ordered, too, a rare repast
for a lady that heeded so little what she ate--jellies, game-pasties, fruits
in syrup, spiced cakes and a flagon of Greek wine; and she nodded and
clapped her hands as the women set it before her, saying again and
again, 'I shall eat well to-day.'
"But presently another mood seized her; she turned from the table,
called for her rosary, and said to Nencia: 'The fine weather has made
me neglect my devotions. I must say a litany before I dine.'
"She ordered the women out and barred the door, as her custom was;
and Nencia and my grandmother went down-stairs to work in the
linen-room.
"Now the linen-room gives on the court-yard, and suddenly my
grandmother saw a strange sight approaching. First up the avenue came
the Duke's carriage (whom all thought to be in Rome), and after it,

drawn by a long string of mules and oxen, a cart carrying what looked
like a kneeling figure wrapped in death-clothes. The strangeness of it
struck the girl dumb and the Duke's coach was at the door before she
had the wit to cry out that it was coming. Nencia, when she saw it, went
white and ran out of the room. My grandmother followed, scared by her
face, and the two fled along the corridor to the chapel. On the way they
met the chaplain, deep in a book, who asked in surprise where they
were running, and when they said, to announce the Duke's arrival, he
fell into such astonishment and asked them so many questions and
uttered such ohs and ahs, that by the time he let them by the Duke was
at their heels. Nencia reached the chapel-door first and cried out that
the Duke was coming; and before she had a reply he was at her side,
with the chaplain following.
"A moment later the door opened and there stood the Duchess. She
held her rosary in one hand and had drawn a scarf over her shoulders;
but they shone through it like the moon in a mist, and her countenance
sparkled with beauty.
"The Duke took her hand with a bow. 'Madam,' he said, 'I could have
had no greater happiness than thus to surprise you at your devotions.'
"'My own happiness,' she replied, 'would have been greater had your
excellency prolonged it by giving me notice of your arrival.'
"'Had you expected me, Madam,' said he, 'your appearance could
scarcely have been more fitted to the occasion. Few ladies of your
youth and beauty array themselves to venerate a saint as they would to
welcome a lover.'
"'Sir,' she answered, 'having never enjoyed the latter opportunity, I am
constrained to make the most of the former.--What's that?' she cried,
falling back, and the rosary dropped from her hand.
"There was a loud noise at the other end of the saloon, as of a heavy
object being dragged down the passage; and presently a dozen men
were seen haling across the threshold the shrouded thing from the
oxcart. The Duke waved his hand toward it. 'That,' said he, 'Madam, is

a tribute to your extraordinary piety. I have heard with peculiar
satisfaction of your devotion to the blessed relics in this chapel, and to
commemorate a zeal which neither the rigors of winter nor the
sultriness of summer could abate I have ordered a sculptured image of
you, marvellously executed by the Cavaliere Bernini, to be placed
before the altar over the entrance to the crypt.'
"The Duchess, who had grown pale, nevertheless smiled playfully at
this. 'As to commemorating my piety," she said, 'I recognize there one
of your excellency's pleasantries--'
"'A pleasantry?' the Duke interrupted; and he made a sign to the men,
who had now reached the threshold of the chapel. In an instant the
wrappings fell from the figure, and there knelt the Duchess to the life.
A cry of wonder rose from all, but the Duchess herself stood whiter
than the marble.
"'You will see,' says the Duke, 'this is no pleasantry, but a triumph of
the incomparable Bernini's chisel. The likeness was done from your
miniature portrait by the divine Elisabetta Sirani, which I sent to the
master some six months ago, with what results all must admire.'
"'Six months!' cried the Duchess, and seemed about to fall; but his
excellency caught her by the hand.
"'Nothing,' he said, 'could better please me than the excessive emotion
you display, for true piety is ever modest, and your thanks could not
take a form that better became you. And now,' says he to the