The Stark County Democrat. [volume] (Canton, Ohio) 1833-1912, 1874-10-15
would say he would be my advocate" 3"

guilty, VINO knows what tnere was 10 PAL
late her great crime2 There is surely
nothing of the murderess to be seen in
her beautiful features, or the sweet and
innocent expression of her lovely blue
eyes. And then you know il is said,
father, that Guido Reni saw Beatrice
only once, and then in prison; and that
her lovely image made such an impress
sion on him that he was able 70 paint A
from memory; and you know it is also
said that he loved her at which he was
so mortified that he stunned women
ever afterward"
"Yes, l know, know" replied Sirani.
"Guido Reni may have loved woman
who was condemned, hut never one who
was guilty." returned Elisabetta warmly,
and then they silently continued their
way.
II triumph with YOU" said Malvezzi
to Marco, as they went arm in arm to
the palazzo.
"And if do not triumph" asked the
young man.
"TRen l will help you to compass your
revenge"
A disdainful smile played around
Marcos lips as he shook his head and
said:
~ would not survive my shame"
"Bahl Would you die and leave the
beautiful Elisabetta to be another's? for
believe me, her heart is not of stone.
No, no, let her triumph rather be her
ruin"
Marco stepped back horrifed and
then he fixed his eyes full upon Malyez-
ri, and cried;
"Am l being tempted by the devil
himselfW
The next moment they entered the
great hall of the palazzo, when their
ears were created with three evvivas,
The pictures had just been unveiled, and
the connoisseurs al preached them with
slow and measured steps, For mo-
ment all was silent-then resounded
from chorus of voices:
"Evviva Elisabettal evviva Elisabettal
evviva Elisabettap which was the death
sentenceOf Marco Sessi's work.
Elisabetta's copy could be distin-
guished only by the freshness of the
color from the head painted by Guido
Reni. Here, as in the original, the same
large, blue, child-like eyes, looked out
ingenuously upon the world, the same
winsome smile wreathed pair of fault
less lips, and the same wealth of golden
tresses clothed clear and placid brow.
Sessi's copy wore, like the original, a
white under-garment, a red vestment,
and blue and white striped kerchief
around the head, but under this kerchief
was the face of Elisabetta Sirani, rather
than that of Beatrice Cenci-Elizabetta's
features, and hers only, lived in Marcos
soul, and, unconsciously, he had painted
them.
An exclamation of surprise was heard
on every hand and Elisabettas name
was on the end of every tongue, but be-
fore it could be spoken, Marco rushed
through the crowd, a dagger in his hand,
and, before hand could be raised to
prevent, he destroyed his picture; then
he hastily left the hall. AT the door
Malvezzi overlook him.
"And our revenge?"
81 am yours"
That evening as Elisabetta was about
to close the window of her sleeping
apartment and the clear moonlight en-
ticed her out upon the balcony
from where she gazed toward heaven,
with heartfelt gratitude, she heard her
name pronounced in low tone by some
one near by. Startled, she looked down
to see who approached, when a dark fig
ure appeared before her.
"Itis |, Elisabetta," said Marco Sessi
"do not be angry with me; | have come
TO take leave of you, which is my last
worldly act / am going into a monas-
terry"
"Poor Marco" murmured Elisabetta
"If you have any kindly feelings for
me-and l will not believe you have
not-promise to comply with my last re-
quest. | once brought you a bunch of
violets, which l, few minutes later,
found carelessly thrown aside; tonight
bring you bunch of roses Promise
me that you will keep them for three
days, and that for three days you will
give me place in your memory. 1t is
the request of one who goes never to
return; grant it as you would the request
of the dying"
"You have my promise, Marco" said
Elisabetta, in tone scarcely audible.
"Then farewell" and from under his
cloak he reached her a beautiful bouquet
of white roses and went his way; but
when Elisabetta's window closed his
dark figure reappeared. With deep
groan he sank down beside the garden
wall and leaned his head against the
cold stones; and when the morning dew
fell his posture remained unchanged.
Nor did he stir until aroused by the
noise that accompanies the break of day
in large towns; then he suddenly arose,
looked about him as one who would
shun the light, and hastened rapidly
away.
For Elisabetta Sirani the day never
broke again. The next morning she
was found pale and cold in her bed: at
her head was large bunch of white
but wilted roses.
A cry of grief resounded through all
Bologna when Elisabetta's sudden death
was known-strange stories were whis-
pered about, and there were not few
who were convinced that she was pOis-
oned; but, if she was, who was the muir
derer? No one could tell.
Marco Sessi disappeared, and was nev-
er afterward seen, which, however, did
not surprise his friends. They had all
feared that the proud, sensitive youth
would not survive his discontinue.
The remains of Elisabetta, the pride
of Bologna, with great pomp and univer-
sal mourning, were placed beside those
of her predecessor, Guido Reni, in the
Church of San Dominica, where a mon
ument was erected to her memory-a
cupOla, supported by twelve columns,
under which she was represented as
sitting before her easel. Luigi Picinar-
do wrote her epitath, the poet Bero cele-
brated her genius, virtues and beauty, in
verse; and Malvasia,' the author of
"Felsina Pattrice," who called himself
the trumpet of her fame" spoke of her
as THE Art Wonder. r."-AppletOn's Jour