The record-union., 1896-02-15

fBeing a fragment of a letter written to
Count Ruzzini by Nicolo Ferrara OF
Belluno. who going to Venice in the
fiftieth year of his age, brought the fash
Joining both of broadswords and of rapiers
to much perfection. Long a servant of the
Moro family, Nicolo died in room OF the
Palazzo Balbi, in the year 1702, carrying
with him to the grave many cunning
secrets of the art he had so worthily
adorned.)
Body Of Bacchus, forget! A soon
would Iforget the face of her that had
my first love. And yet I have killed
many a man, Count. The quiver Of
flesh upon my blade has been meat and
drink to me often since the day l slew
Marco Foscari in my fathers garden
at Belluno. But the work in the garden
of swords! All, that was like new wine
in my veins.
ST had been in the city-benedetta la
mia Venezia-five years when Girolamo
brought the trouble to my DOORS The
people had learned to applaud me; men
bent the weapons of Nicolo and cried
that the devil was in the steel. But
made them as the son of Andrea taught
me; and finer for play or work never
came out of Damascus.
81 taught Girolamo, and he came
daily to my house-at first, to hold me
in fence with the fine conceit that I
was making him my master; after that
as presently was to learn, for love Of
Christine, the daughter of my neighbor,
Orio Zorzi. She had then grown quite
a woman; her beauty, though she had
come only to her fifteenth year, was the
talk of all the painters over upon the
Guidecca- And for her. Count, would
have broken my sword-the sword of
Andrea of Belluno, the like to which
there is not in the world.
II would have broken my sword for
Christine-ay, indeed, for she was all
my company, and the day was rare
when she did not sit at my feet in pleas
ant talk after my work was ended. Of
ten we supped out there in the little
garden, with the music of the lagoon in
our ears. Her father, Orio, was a wild
over. and man of many occupations,
as you know we'll His business car
ried him frequently to cara and even TO
the remoter East And he was pleased
that I should see much Of his child
when he was gone, for our houses lay
back to back under the shadow of the
new church of our Lady of Safety, and
What fashioning and hammering of
blades L did was kept for my shop over
yonder in the city of Murano. Then, as
in my later years, the setting of the sun
over the waters of Chioggia brought
me always to my home. Little Christine
loved to wait for me upon the riva: she
had supper set in that pleasant arbor
whence one may see the shores OF the
Lido and the purple crowns Of the Eu-
ganean Hills. Oh, it was good to see
her thus; the child become the woman,
the little maid playing mother. And yet
] have never said her nay-not even
when she told me of Paolo Steno, and
of the words which he spoke when the
Ascension brought him to her from Tor
cello.
For what would you? The maid
must become the wife, and the wife the
mother, as it is written. And if the
youth be honest, of good heart and will,
and the child be ready, how IS the love
of an old man to come between them
Not. be understood, that any consent of
mine could help her to this happiness.
Her father was a hard man; Paolo was
a simple fellow Of the people. who had