Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1905-07-26
THE MIRROR or FATE
A VENETIAN LEGEND OF THE DAYS
OF THE DoeEs.

Story of the Beauty Who wns Intoxi-
Gated With tho vision of Her own
LONELINESS and the Stntuc In the
Church of sun Giorgis MngSiorc.
Here is legend which | heard in
Venice. I offer it to all among YOU
who are fond of solitude and silence.
| Offer 1t TO you as l would offer q
flower which has blossomcd amid SOM
Der shadows on Il sleeping lagoon:
Ghita Gherardini was the niece of the
doge. Poets whose names we have for
gotten, but who We're renowned ut that
time, had composed innumerable songs
in her honor. They praised in them the
tresses of the young girl, black as night,
III which pearls cleaned like milk
white stars. They also sang about the
radiance Of her dark violet eyes and
about the two roses which formed her
very beautiful. She had, however, lis
tened too earnestly to the passionate
words of the singers, and an immense
pride took possession of her young soul.
One night she heard beneath her win
dow the yearning sob of lutte. Stand
ing i'll Il motionlcss gondola, Il lovesick
page was singing to her. Tender was
the music, and the water and the dark
ness added something to the sweetness
of the stratus and to the passion in the
voice of the singer. The young page
was clarifying her as the most radiant
among all women,
Ghita heard him, and delightful
tremor ran through her. Without wait
ing to light the torches, Which had gone
out, she took her mirror and ran to the
window, through which the moonlight
shone into her room. Thereupon in this
mysterious light she saw that she was
strangely beautiful; that her beauty
was indeed almost supernatural. The
moonlight revealed her pale and trans
parent, like the princess of Il poem.
Intoxicated with her charms, she let
the seductive mirror slip from her
hand, and Il sigh of admiration and of
ecstasy escaped her as she cried:
II am beautiful. am beautifulw
ThencefOrth Ghita Gherardini spent
all her time marveling ut her own beau
| ty. She did not desire to fall in love,
| for she fancied that there was no man
living who was worthy of her. Those
songs which had 10 words of praise for
| her eyes and her hair she treated with
contempt, and TO the mysteries of reli-
gion she never gave n thought:
She went to high mass solely for the
| purpose of being seen by the people
and OF being battered by them as they
whispered to one another about her.
The restless eyes We're never turned
toward the altar.
She thought of nothing save her own
| triumphant beauty and of the Jewels
which set it off in sumptuous fashion.
One day Ghita Gherardini slipped n
little mirror beside the first page of
her mass book, which had been deli
catcly illuminated by pious artist.
And while her attitude of devotion edi-
fled the multitude she studied her face
enshrined in the book of prayer.
The doge's niece had forgotten that
the Creator alone is worthy of wor-
ship and not any of his creatures. She
had also forgotten that pride is an
| abominable sin-aye, perhaps the most
| perilous of all sins-since it was the
cause of the rebellion of the archan-
gels and the downfall of. Lucifer.
One day Ghita Gherardini was in
| tently studying her face in the little
mirror between the holy leaves of her
mass book. and suddenly she uttered a
loud cry of terror. Through the large
building it rang, drowning the solemn
voice of the priest. the responses of the
| congregation and the sonorous MUIR
Mur of the organ. And straightway
| the doge's niece fell to the ground in
Il faint. she had seen reflected III the
guilty mirror. the s;icrilegious mirror
not her own countenance, but that of
| Death.
There is today i'll the Church of San
Giorgis Maggiore where this miracle
\ was accomplished. the statue of IL wo-
man, who is seated and looking at her.
self in mirror. Very beautiful is
this woman. as beautiful as Ghita
Gherardini was formerly. The story
goes that this statue is the work of a
famous sculptor, but the people be-
lieve-and their legends contain a
good deal of trutl-that it was once
Ghita Gherartlini herself and that her
body was turned into stone by the ter
rible vision.
To all those who love the silence of
dead cities offer this legend l found
it at Venice as one occasionally finds Il
| flower Which has blossomed amid SOM
Der shadows ON Il sleeping lagoon
Helene de Iuylcn de Nycvclt in Euro
pean Edition New York Herald.