The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-02-13
in big armchair, while the monk. on his


knees before her, murmured:
MY name, in the world, was. Prosper
Zephyros: At the convent, L am Calixte de
Cephalonic. l was a rich ShipoWner.
married the woman 1 loved. Alasl
Like Othello listening to the false accusa-
lions of Iago, | listened to the calumnies
Of a miserable scoundrel. o Mali
bran, the drama which you sang yesterday
is, word for word, the story of my happi-
ness, my suspicious. my fury and my de-
What! You did as did the Moor of
venice?"
Miserable man! Had you the right to
take your wifes lfe?'
No! And for that have done penance
discipline is breaking my back! Neither
fasting nor prayer can ease my hearth
Monster and fooll Who tells you
that your victim was not innocent?'
Until yesterday. believed her guilty!
yesterday, the father superior, in reading
the tragedy, brought doubts to my mind.
allied that she who died, did not merit
DEATH Disgrace upon my life! Shame and
ignominy on my mind! Eternal damnation
for my soul! [ have slept in the tomb,
where hes the masterpiece of heaven, the
most beautiful of bodies, the gentlest of
faces! Her eyes were like yours, o
Mallbran! But she was more beautiful than
you! Can more be said? Yes, she
looked like you!. :. Yesterday, when
you sang it was she whom l heard!
felt that something of her was in you!
o, virgin, your pardon, feel, would be her
pardon; your voice is for me her voicel
Aosolution given me by you would be as
from her! i have suffered so great
ly! viii you not be charitable? She, not
withstanding my crime, would be merciful!
Why is 1t not given to man to forget!
memory, should seek it! But instead of a
state of forgetfulneSS, where all is over l
fear to find myself reproved and damned,
charged with another crime, in another life,
where eternity begins with every instant
/ fear to find peace and repose, to
penetrate there where repose exists not and
where memory is incessant! o, Malibran,
| fear hell and wish for heaven, because
l believe that she is in heaveni / had
faith in her being saved even when l be-
lleved her guilty! L said to myself her
martyrdom has purified her! To-day, know
ing her I. to be innocent | behold her radiant,
smiling, beside the Madonna, and / muir
muir; Martyrdom has raised herr Oh. if
you knew how L loved her, how l vet adore
her; | see her on the altar; it is to her
that l prayi In the consecrated bread, I
see an ivory miniature, bearing her fea-
lures! o, Malibran, seeing the torrents of
my tears, my unhealed wounds the horror
me! After their benediction, my soul Knew uSSi
no peace 0, Malibran, have more faith
In you than in them!'
You blaSpheme!'
mo! Since YOU have her voice. her
beauty; since being in your presence has
changed my heart, has lightened my soul!
less ter rbanks to YOU my t9fmsnts
from mercifnl heaven, has sent YOU blessed
star, across my path! In my throat were
rising words of hatred and malediction!
But now, I have seen you, have listened to
you and have pronounced, without regret
the formula which is used to implore par
don't o, Malibran, / know, through you
that she was innocent! I no longer feel
remorse! The jealousy which ragged within
me has fled, and of two wounds, one only
bleeds! 1t Is the least painful which re-
Many times. believing her guilty, L have
applauded my act. She deceived me- I
e.Qi lint had NV I,
she lived a pure and noble life and loved
me, it seems to me that a soothing balm
has been placed upon my wounds and that
/ may breathe again in peace! Words can
not express my happiness; the poisoned
dagger is no longer in my heart! She lived
o Malibran, those gentle words Tell me
that she did not deceive me!'
''She lived noble life and loved your
20 Malibran, now the words of absolu-
1T is not allowed me, woman and come
dian, to pronounce. Moreover, L do not
know them! c;u | can only sing!
The singer. much moved, went to the
piano:
"The willow! The willowr'
In the little room the divine voice re-
sounded more than in the vast theater.
Sobs interrupted the melody. Never before
had she and never again will Malibran sing
as she did then!
The maestro Ghirigoro seated himself be-
fore the organ. The superior whispered to
Father Aritus:
what has become of Calixte? Perhaps he
has left the church by the small door,.
Reverend father it is very queer"
HAS anything peculiar happened?'
'It would seem SO! But here he Isl!
All! how pale he looks! He might
be Lazarus coming from the sepuIchre!'5
Calixte crossed the church and threw
himself upon the floor of the sanctuary,
beating his head violently against the altar
steps.
"Father superior, ask him what he did
last night and where he WENT
MY friend, it will be time enough for
that when he has finished his prayer
The maestro Ghirigoro played the prelude
Calixte did not rise. A flood ef harmony
filled the church. The delighted monks lis
tened to the famous song:
''Chantez lie saule ct sa donce verdure.''
The superior bent over the body of
Calixte.
Pray, my brothers! Calixte is
dead!''
Translated from the French of Alexander
dAgiOut, by Rowena New.