Weakened by her long sleep, she wanders
aimlessly through the streets, and at length finds herself, when
just sinking with exhaustion, at the door of her father. She has no
resource but to knock. The Count, who here, we must say, acts very
much as Thimble of old- the knight, we mean, of the "scolding wife"-
maintains that she is dead, and shuts the door in her face. In other
words, he supposes it to be the ghost of his daughter who speaks;
and so the lady is left to perish on the steps. Meantime Angelo is
absent from home, attempting to get access to the cathedral; and his
servant Tomaso takes the opportunity of absenting himself also, and of
indulging his bibulous propensities while perambulating the town. He
finds Isabella as we left her, and through motives which we will leave
Mr. Willis to explain, conducts her unresistingly to Angelo's
residence, and- deposits her in Angelo's bed. The artist now
returns- Tomaso is kicked out of doors- and we are not told, but
left to presume, that a fun explanation and perfect understanding
are brought about between the lady and her lover.
We find them, next morning, in the studio, where stands, leaning
against an easel the portrait (a full length) of Isabella, with
curtains adjusted before it. The stage-directions, moreover, inform us
that "the black wall of the room is such as to form a natural ground
for the picture.
Pages:
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199