Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1856-02-20
EVENING STAR,
ROBERTO CORSINI.

Politics was excluded from the noble as
sembly. OF religion they spoke no more than
if such thing had been unknown to them
Play absorbed everything.
1t was Monday night. For two hours no.
| thing had been heard but the rafting of the
| cards, when Signor Roberto Corsini rose
quickly and strobe up to table, which was
covered with piles of gold and bank notes,
MY lord said he, to one Of the players,
"put up two hundred pistoles for me. Tn
| not In luck, and it's my last stake"
The two hundred pistoles rolled out upon
| the table. In two turns of the cards the
| money Of Corsini and of the playor on whom
| he betted, was in their adversary's hands
The player who had lost rose, and politely Of
| fered to yield Corsini his place. He accepted,
and his first bet was two thousand sequins
"My Lord Doria," said be, let us see il
| chance always favors you. The proverb SAYS,
| You are happier at play than in love-"
"My Lord Corsini, it is scarcely generous
| in you to remind me that, in a few days, you
| are about to marry my cousin Aglaura You
| have pleased her. 1t is well. She has pre-
ferred you to me. That is smarvellous-but-
| clubs"
| 81 did not mean to wound you. have no
| clubs."
"Then the stake is mine"
"Two thousand sequins-they are yours I
| 90 you twenty thousand now. That is nearly
the value of the earrings 1 mean to buy for
| Aglaura."
| RsAglaura again The king-you have lost
again. Signor Corsini. Do you wish to stop?''
| 81 an not in the habit of stopping when /
lose Recoil before such trifipg cheek
| Pooh . Fifty thousand
Fifty thousand Be it so.''
The enunciation of this sum- made in loud
| voice, attracted the attention of the other
players, and they arose, both men and women,
and placed themselves in a circle silently
| around Robert Corsini and Doria. "You are
are wrong, Signor Doria, to hesitate an in
slant, when / Offer to bet fifty thousand Sc
quins. DO you not know, my palace is worth
as mu,h as yours? My villa of Camaldoli, a.
credit equal to what we play for ?''
SignOr COrsini, your i'll humor puts a
wrong construction upon my words, as we'll as
upon my silence. Be it so. Let us play.
Your fifty thousand sequins are mine"
Yes; but my villa of Camaldoli may rep
| resent two hundred thousand. Here are the
title deeds of it''
$50 on; let US play for the villa of Canal
doll We will stop when / have played two
hundred thousand sequins against it.i'
eyes; thousand times, yes. Go on.''
"The villa of Camaldoli is mine''
1.-The cards are Infamous the devil made
them; the ire Of hell cOlOred them. But will
you have your victory half finished? You
have the villa; but l still retain my palace,
that of my ancestors. 1t is second only to the
Petit, as you know. Marbles and pictures
worth near million. offer you the chance
for it
"And L accept"
Every well, then. Double or quits. What
you have won against the palace ?''
The cards were distributed, and, in three
turns, the luck which ran so violently against
against COrsini, finished as it had begun.
Without a change Of color or a complaint he
laid upon the green table the golden key of
his palace, and opened for himself passage
through a crowd, terrified by the blow which
left him landless and penniless. No one dared
stop him.
Again, however, he turned, and, leaning
down, whispered with evident emotion, to
Doria. The latter made a sign of acquies-
cenee, and the cards were resumed.
" Are you the devil that you always win ?"
/" l have proved the contrary, Signor Cor
SIM, since the devil has no fancy for women,
and l have just won from you your mistress
your betrothed-she whom you were to marry
soon!''
"You are q coward to say it.'
"And you are hundred times coward to
have staked her.
"Aglaura his betrothed, the only daugh-
ter of Calvalcati, bet her away. Holy Vir-
gin! 90 cried all the ladies present, in accents
of anger.
"Silence, and hear me-" cried the game
ster. -, Roberto Corsini, descended from
the most illustrious ancestry of Italy; I, who
have among them a Governor of Trieste a
conqueror at the Battle of Lepanto two con-
secrated Doges at Venice, in the fifteenth GEN.
tury; who still proudly count Podestas and
Gonfalioneers of Florence, Roberto Corsini,
lord of Camaldoli, ! repeat, stake my name"
"His name" cried the cavaliers, with q
burst of laughter. 4" His name!''
1t is we'll worth, think, he continued,
smiling bitterly, "some thousand acres Of
vines in Carrara; and the glory which ac-
companies it, my lord Doria, is not worth
less than the sum it pleases you to fix. /
stake my name. If L lose, consent never
to be named again whilst live. 1t is fine
treasure, that name of mine. 1t is inscribed
in tho book of life it is traced in letters of
gold, upon the register of Venice it is writ
ten in every glorious memory Of Etruria. If
L lose, / shall agree that it shall be erased
from all. By our name, in the day of judg-
ment, the archangel calls US from the tomb.
It is the key Of heaven and hell. Do you un-
derstand, now, what risk. For the last time,
at what will you value it Quick :"
81 value it too highly to fix value. If L
gain, it will belong to me. If lose, you
shall fix it yourself.
And the two players made the sign of the
Cross. Whilst they shuffled the cards, the
company, by common impulse Of terror, aban
doned the hall and left them alone with each
ether.
Midnight struck.
Acry rose upon the night am damned"
And a man went out by the gate of st. Paolo.
He sat down at the foot of dry tree, and
leaned his head and hands and wept
go my villa Of Camaldoli, where the fruits
were SO beautiful; my palace my Aglaura
my name-lost-lOst-all lost. Could but
force it, sword in hand, from Doria trace it
upon the sand; read it when twas writ, or
even halloo it to this solitude. But no. l
have gambled it away. i have stripped my
self of the right or power to resume it. The
law Of play has taken it from me, and debts or
honor are sacred. The world is ashamed Of
me. It denies the apostate who has denied
himself. am viler in its eyes than the vilest
pagan. o helplessness o misery! The very
demons refuse me; for even they have a nams
in the creation. Satan, Satan! call on
thee"
The blush of the day tinged the horizon. A
ha, of rirls