The miners' express. (Dubuque, Iowa) 1849-1854, 1850-06-12
40.
A Tradition of Florence.
BY ROBERT F. GREELY.

r,ysy BY ROBERT F. GREELY. .,...
Daylight is breaking over the city of Florence
Warned by the increasing light, the birds leave
their nest to seek food for their younr-the ear.
~ laborer, with the implements of husbandry at
his shoulder, issues from the low door of his hum
Die dwelling, to commence another day of toll
From his restless couch comes forth the care
worn student, to dispel in the cool morning the
fever OF his pallid cheek, and to think, with re-
newed intensity, of the world and its glories-
to brood and ponder-to hope! And now, upon
the highest peaks of the distant mountains, a
ray OF golden light dazzling, foretells The sun.
The plains have donned robe of purple lus-
tire, and the mist of morning are rolling upward,
like thick veil, from the frightening landscape,
that begins to resound with the main chorus of
the birds and the lowing of the cattle Like a
belt OF gold flows the gentle Arno through its
valley: And now, the cheerful song Of the peas
ant is heard in the heavy laden vineyard ~.
Such is the dawn of an Italian mornnp,-
Bright, beautiful Italy! no wonder that beneath
these mellow skies, the poet and the laborer for
get, alike, their destinies, to sing oflove!
At tins hour there stood upon the bank of the
river Arno solitary figure, clad in a frock of
grey serge. whose folded arms, and fixed atti
tude proclaimed him enwrapped in meditation
1t was student from one of the cloisters near
Florence.
"Strange' murmured he, halfalone, as he
continued to gaze upon the blue hills or the Val
Arno-"Strange, that all things in Nature
seem to wear the impress of happiness, while
gazing upon the scenes which once filled me
with pleasure and delight, am sensible of no 9TH
er feelings than those of sadness. Ah! Love-
II such is ever thine influence, the humble lot
OF yon happy vlne-dresser were far preferable
to that of one compelled to own thy power
Alas! little rocked the student that love heeds
not the palace, or the cottage. Already had the
same passion animated the breast of the rude
toer in the vineyard, but his lot was indeed, far
preferable, for it scared not beyond his station,
and was returned
Ihomaso Carelli, whose meditatons form the
subject OF our story, was the of poor citi-
z of Florence, who wisely foresecing what
might happen, in the event Of his death, to his
offspring, placed him, through the influence of
a nobleman OF great power, in a convent hard
by the city, and it was here, chained down to his
studies, and thus far owning no passion, save
the thirst for knowledge, that he first saw the
young Blanca Sarpel.
The daughter of the nobleman to whom Tho
maso owed his situation, was far, far beyond his
hopes; but ne had seen her, as, during her week
ly visits to the prior of the convent, she halted
to bestow few kind words upon the aged por-
ter, at the gate; and to see her. was to love!
And beautiful, indeed, was Bianca-a true
child OF Italy! For such as her the poet racked
his brain, and wove his wild romaunts For such
as her the minstrel tuned his slight guitar and
sang OF beauty's charms. For such as her the
painter exerted his skill, and drew from the cold
canvass life's semblance. Why should not then,
a poor student, ignorant of the world and its
ways, love Blanca Sarpelli? Those dark, flash
ing eyes had pierced the nmost soul of Thoma-
rn1I, H,,kL H. Al
the stations in life, and he dared not construe
her warm glances, when they met, into other
than those of friendship. And hereafter a
twelve-month of despair, enlivened by not one
single gleam of hope--upon the rivers bank
stood Thomaso
"Aye!' he exclaimed, at length, again giving
vent to his thoughts in words. "Ayc it were
better so; she loves thee not, Thomaso; and if
she loves not thee, why shouldst thou care for
the world and its phantom peasures---that are
pleasures only when sought AFTER vanish like the
mists Of summer morning before the warm
rays the sun. Why shouldst thou care to live?''
AS he mused thus, he approached nearer to
the rolling river; there it ran; blue and transpa-
rent, and deep, glittering like a vein of golden
sunbeams. flower came floating down the
tide, and, caught by the heavy current, it sank,
and was borne under "Such be my fate" !" said
Thomaso, mournfully. "Farewell, beautiful
earth? that have loved so well; that have
ceased to love. And farewell thou, who, soar
ing in too high sphere for my hopes on earth,
may st yet be mine in Heaven He stood up
on the waters edge, with his arms stretched
forth toward the clear blue sky. A moment more,
and Thomaso Carelli had gone 10 suicides
grave, beneath the rapid water; but gentle, yet
steady hand was laid upon his shoulder, and,
turning, he beheld-Bianca Sarpelli
cart thou mine, Bianca' mine, in truth?'' cx-
claimed Thomaso, Qrom whose face all signs of
care had vanished,) as he bent over the slight
form of the young beauty--''art thou mine in
truth?" '@
Her answer was almost inaudiblc--low and
gentle as the u 21 s~~~+ t5=-TEr-..a .a. aa ls.a
.azstst sfvE3 Ling a; {,c-y s'Sweet South 4gg
Breathing upon a bank of volets.'' ., .r
But it was loud enough for the ear of her lover,
and, had he doubted, the steady, yet timid glance
of that black eye would, alone, have convinced
HIM. And there they stood, the sad youth and
the noble maiden, exchanging vows of eternal
constancy and affection.--But another footstep,
unnoticed by them disturbs the stiffness of their
retreat. and another and heavier hand is laid