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the simple and energetic language of true feeling. The Prince requested him soon to repeat his visit, and so rapidly did Antonio gain on his esteem and regard, that he shortly offered him the office of his secretary, which had been resigned by its late efficient occupant, whose delicate health required change

of scene.

Antonio had formed a close intimacy and friendship with this young man, and had observed with sincere sorrow the inroads which that most treacherous and invidious of all diseases was making in his slender frame; as is often the case in consumption, the young secretary knew not that he was in the grasp of the destroyer, and fancied that the breezes from his native hills, the tender nursing of his mother, and the sight of one dearer to him than country or kindred, and to whom he was betrothed, would entirely renovate his drooping frame and failing spirits. Antonio, who knew that he was going to seek a grave, took leave of him with ill-subdued emotion,

and listened to his joyous anticipation of a renewal of their intimacy, with a full heart.

He went to his loved home, and his fond, widowed mother, and his gentle betrothed; and at first the flame of his failing life burned with renewed vigour, as those dear ones surrounded him with tenderness; and his fevered temples and flushed cheek felt the refreshing winds of his birth-place playing over them ; but this excitement only wasted the little strength that remained, and in a few weeks his intended bride had first learned to grieve, and his mother was childless, and the winds

stirred the garlands on his humble grave

stone.

Oh! Death, Death! thou ruthless tyrant, thou pitiless destroyer; why is it that thou passest over the languid and heart-broken, whose life is a burden, and who woos thee, even as the lover woos his mistress, and selectest the young and beautiful, the sky of whose future is unclouded, whose prospects are bathed in a flood of sunlight, and whose

quick pulses beat alone to joy and glad

ness.

In the mean time, Antonio Cellini had entered upon his new office, and life had changed for him. Brightness was on all sides surrounded by every refinement which luxury can devise- residing in a gorgeous palace, where statues of more than human beauty, and pictures which made the heart tremble with delight, abounded; honoured with the warm friendship of his illustrious patron and the gentle and elegant society of the Princess, left in almost undisturbed possession of his time, Antonio would have been happy, but that in the midst of all this, a new light broke in upon his soul and galled him to the quick.

He was constantly admitted to the Prince's table and private circle, where he was ever treated by the family with the utmost deference and respectful attention. But Antonio soon heard a new language from the mixed society which frequented the Pallazo: the language of

the world. There he learned the distinctions of rank and wealth, the all-importance of station; the mighty barriers of caste; the potent spell of riches; the insignificancy of mind; the nothingness of pennyless genius. All this he heard, and the proud blood burned in his swelling veins, and mantled on his clear cheeks, and a smile of unutterable scorn wreathed his beautiful mouth, and he contemplated with lofty contempt the fluttering soulless insects who buzzed and hummed out these sentiments. But though he felt the littleness of such distinctions, and despised their upholders, and told himself again and again, that they should not disturb his calm, still they did hurt him; and he brooded over these stinging thoughts, till an unknown touch of bitterness mingled with the kindliness and tenderness of his nature, and a sense of unmerited injury hung upon him.

The Princess issued cards for a magnificent concert and ball, and all that Florence held of rich, or noble, or beautiful, was bidden to the fête. The evening arrived, and the gilded

rooms

s blazed with lights, and delicate perfumes

intoxicated the senses. Beautiful and graceful forms thronged the saloons, and proud and gay gallants whispered soft flattery in their ears, jewels sparkled and glittered amid raven tresses, and stars shone on many a veteran bosom. It was a scene of enchantment, and Antonio gazed

rapt silence. All were strangers to him, yet all seemed known to one another; cordial greetings were exchanged, hands were grasped in friendly recognition; looks of love were answered again, soft voluptuous smiles were reciprocated, and Antonio was unnoticed. To him alone no hand was held out; no glance of interest dwelt on him; and a strange feeling of desolation and neglect came over him, in the midst of all this splendour and light and mirth. Some, indeed, as they passed Antonio, who leaned abstractedly against the pedestal of a fine statue, whose faultless beauty scarce equalled his own; some, struck by his noble aspect, turned a second time as they passed to look on him, and whispered some inquiry to

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