trees, where in
vain it sought herb-age, and came to grass near these waters;
Ludovico saw it depicted therein, and then looked on the living
animal, almost appearing less real, less living, than its semblance
in the stream.
Under the trees from which the ass had come lay someone on the
ground, enveloped in a mantle, sleeping. Ludovico looked
carelessly--he hardly at first knew why his curiosity was roused;
then an eager thought, which he deemed madness, yet resolved to
gratify, carried him forward.
Rapidly he approached the sleeper, knelt down, and drew aside
the cloak, and saw Viola, her child within her arms, the warm
breath issued from her parted lips, her lovebeaming eyes hardly
veiled by the transparent lids, which soon were lifted up.
Ludovico and Viola, each too happy to feel the earth they trod,
returned to their cottage-their cottage dearer than any palace--yet
only half believing the excess of their own joy. By turns they
wept, and gazed on each other and their child, holding each
other's hands as if grasping reality and fearful it would
vanish.
Prince Mondolfo heard of their arrival. He had long suffered
keenly from the fear of losing his son. The dread of finding
himself childless, heirless, had tamed him. He feared the
world's censure, his sovereign's displeasure--perhaps worse
accusation and punishment. He yielded to fate. Not daring to appear
before his intended victim, he sent his confessor to mediate for
their forgiveness, and to entreat them to take up their abode at
Mondolfo. At first, little credit was given to these offers. They
loved their cottage, and had small inclination to risk happiness,
liberty, and life, for worthless luxury. The Prince, by patience
and perseverance, at length convinced them. Time softened painful
recollections; they paid him the duty of children, and cherished
and honored him in his old age; while he caressed his lovely
grandchild, he did not re-pine that the violet- girl should be the
mother of the heir of Mondolfo.
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THE END
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