Dantis Poetæ ?" It is not necessary that one should have solved the mysteries of the Divina Commedia, in order to feel the solemn interest which attaches to the spot where the bones of its author repose. It is enough to know that we are standing by the tomb of a man who, in early boyhood, loved; and cherished the deep affection then born, after its object was removed from the world, through a life of the greatest vicissitude, danger, and grief, making it a fountain of poetic inspiration, and a golden link which bound him to the world of spirits; a quenchless sentiment, whose intensity vivified and hallowed existence. It is sufficient to remember, that we are near the ashes of a man who proved himself a patriot, and when made the victim of political faction, and banished from his home, wrapped himself in the mantle of silent endurance, and suffered with a dignified heroism, that challenges universal sympathy and respect. It is sufficient to reflect, that they who had persecuted the gifted Florentine when living, have long vainly petitioned those among whom he died, for the privilege of transporting his revered remains to the rich monument prepared for them; and that a permanent professorship to elucidate his immortal poem is founded by the very city from which he was ignobly spurned. It is enough, that we see before us the sepulchre of a man who had the intellect and courage to think beyond and above his age; who revived into pristine beauty a splendid but desecrated language; who fully vindicated his title to the character of a statesman, a soldier, and a poet; and in a warlike and violent age, had the magnanimity to conceive, and the genius to create an imperishable monument of intellectual revenge,

LEONE LEONI.

(Continued from page 183.)

WHEN I came to, I found myself in the arms of Leoni. I was lying upon a sofa, and he was gazing upon me with affectionate solicitude.

66

My dear,' ," said he, when he saw me recover my senses, "what's the matter? How comes it that I find you in this state? What new course of grief have you had ?"

"None," said I, and this was true, for at the moment I had no remembrance of anything.

"You deceive me, Juliet, somebody has caused you uneasi

ness. Your maid told me a gentleman had been here this morning, that he remained a long time, and that he sent her to you as he went out. Who is he, Juliet?"

I had never told a lie in my life; I could not answer; for I dared not name Henryet. Leoni's brow became black. "A secret," said he, "a secret between us. I could never have thought you capable of this. But you are not acquainted with anybody here? Has-if it were he, his blood shall expa. tiate his insolence. Speak the truth, Juliet. Has Chalon been to see you? Has he dared to persecute you with vile temptations and slanders against me?"

"Chalon," said I," is he at Milan?" My surprise and alarm were so visible in my countenance, that Leoni saw at once I was not aware of the arrival of the Marquis. "If it be not," said he, speaking to himself, "who can this visitor be, who remains three hours with my wife, and who leaves her in a swoon. The Marquis has been with me all day."

"Oh, Heavens !" I exclaimed, "then all your odious companions are at Milan. For God's sake don't let them know where I am. Do not ask me to see them."

answer!

"But who is this man you have no disinclination to see?" said Leoni, growing paler and more thoughtful; quick! you understand me."

I saw that my position was becoming more and more critical. I clasped my hands and raised them to heaven in silence.

"You won't speak," said Leoni. "Ah! Juliet, you are a bad dissembler. This fellow loves you; but can I blame you when I am making a fool of myself with this Princess. But I cannot be so tolerant as I expect you to be, that's certain."

He took his hat and put on his gloves with convulsive coolness, and without saying another word or even looking at me he went out. I heard his slow, uneven step descending the staircase. Surprise, consternation, and fear had benumbed my

senses.

In the middle of the night I heard a noise in the adjoining room, which was only separated from mine by folding doors. I arose, and looking cautiously through an aperture, beheld a scene which I was at a loss to comprehend. Leoni was walking up and down in great agitation, and the Marquis was sitting at a table, helping himself to copious libations from a bottle of brandy which stood upon it. I had not the slightest wish to know what they were saying, but by degrees their speech aroused my attention.

"I tell you I saw him. I am sure of it," said the Marquis. "He is here!"

"The dog," replied Leoni, stamping on the floor. the earth open and rid us of him.”

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' May

Very good," said the Marquis, "that's precisely what I wish." "He has been here tormenting that unfortunate woman."

Ha ha! are you sure, Leoni, that she is not at her ease in the tête-à-tête ?"

"Silence! viper! and seek not to raise a suspicion at that wretched being. There is nothing left her now but my compassion."

"And the love of Monsieur Henryet," said the Marquis. Leoni clenched his fist. "We shall rid her of that too, and cure the Fleming of his passion."

"Come, come, Leoni, no humbug." "And come, Lorenzo, no villany."

"You will persist in calling it a villany? We have not the same ideas. You are quietly conducting La Zagorola to the grave to inherit her fortune; and you call it villany if I am for putting under ground an enemy whose existence must for ever paralyze ours. You think nothing of abbreviating by your generous affection, in spite of the physicians, the period of the sufferings of your dear Princess."

"If that madwoman will live and die quickly, why should I prevent her. She is handsome enough to make me obedient to her will, and my liking for her is not strong enough to lead me to oppose her inclinations."

"I think I heard your wife speak."

"She is raving, perhaps; she is feverish.'

"Are you sure she does not hear us?"

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Impossible! she is out of her senses. Poor Juliet! she bears it all without a complaint. She has not a score of waiting women. She pays no courtiers to minister to her sickly fancies. She is dying silently and slowly, like an expiatory sacrifice to heaven for my sins."

Leoni sat upon a table, folded his arms and wept.

"This is the effects of brandy," said the Marquis, leisurely raising his glass to his lips. "I told you it would be so; it always disagrees with your nerves!"

"Begone! unfeeling brute," cried Leoni, raising his leg and giving the table a push with his foot, which almost upset it, and sent the bottle and glasses jingling into the lap

of the Marquis. Leave me to myself—you have no idea of remorse-you have no idea of love."

Come," said the Marquis, "have you had enough of your sentimentals? Let us be reasonable; you are not serious about calling out this Henryet?"

"Quite serious," responded Leoni,

about assassinating him, eh?"

"That's quite another thing."

66 you were serious

"It comes to the same thing precisely; he does not know how to handle a single weapon, and I am unrivalled at all." "And do you imagine he will go out with you?"

"He will, he is brave."

"But he's not a fool.

as thieves."

He will begin by having us arrested

"He will begin by giving me satisfaction. I will give him a blow at the theatre." ""

"He will return it, and call you-forger, swindler, sharper.' "He must prove it. He is not known here, whereas we have a distinguished position; I will say he is a lunatic and a dreamer, and when I kill him all the world will say I am right."

"You are a fool, my dear fellow," said the Marquis. Henryet has letters to all the first merchants in Italy. His family is well known to the commercial world. Doubtless he has his private friends in town, with whom his assertions will have due weight. Suppose now he does consent to meet you to-morrow evening. Well, he will spend the day in proclaiming that he is going to fight you, because he has seen you cheat at cards, and that you think yourself insulted because he attempted to prevent you."

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Well, let him say so-let them believe him-I shall kill him nevertheless."

"La Zagorola will dismiss you, and throw her will in the fire. The nobles will close their doors against you. And the police will beg of you to go and play the agreeable on some other ground.'

"

"Well-I shall go and do so. Shall not the rest of the world be mine when I am delivered from this man."

Assuredly, and from his blood will rise up a fine set of accusers; instead of Monsieur Henryet, you will have all Milan at your heels."

"True," said Leoni with vehemence, "what is to be done?" "Allure him to a meeting, by a billet in the name of your

wife, and calm his blood with a stiletto. Give me that slip of paper I'll pen it myself."

Leoni, without heeding him, threw open a window and leant out, in a deep reverie, while the Marquis was writing.

"Listen Leoni and judge of my powers of inditing a billet

doux."

Leoni

"My dear Henryet.-I cannot see you any more. knows all, and menaces me with the worst of ill usage-take me away or I am lost. Conduct me to my mother, or shut me up in a convent. Do with me as you may think proper, but for God's sake deliver me from the frightful situation in which I am placed. Meet me to-morrow at two o'clock in the morning, under the porch of the Cathedral. We shall concert measures for our departure. I shall have no difficulty in finding an opportunity for going, as Leoni spends all his time with La Zagorola. Do not be astonished at this hasty and almost illegible scribble, as Leoni in a fit of frantic passion has quite disabled my right hand.

"JULIET RUYTER."

"Now I flatter myself, that is very cleverly executed," said the Marquis; "it must appear genuine to the Fleming, whatever may be the nature of his intimacy. The expressions she used in her ravings show clearly that he has offered to reconduct her to her family. The hand writing is disguised, whether he knows that of Juliet or not."

"Let us see!" said Leoni, bending over the table and examining the billet.

His countenance exhibited a frightful expression of mingled doubt and persuasion. I saw no more-my brain whirled round-my ideas became confused. I rega ned my couch and sank back into my lethargy.

When I returned to myself, the vague light of the lamp fell upon the same objects; I rose and looked into the other room. The Marquis was in the same position as I left him when my senses failed me. It was still night. The bottles and glasses were still upon the table, together with the billet, and something which I could not clearly distinguish, but which appeared to me to be arms. Leoni was standing as before; I tried to recall their previous conversation, I did not know that between that conversation and the one that was then beginning, an interval of twenty-four hours had elapsed. The first sentences I could comprehend distinctly were these :