Some days after, as nothing was seen or heard of Grimaldi, the magistracy ordered his house and his chamber to be opened. All were surprised at not meeting with the = master; but much more at not finding any money in the house. Three months elapsed without any tidings of Grimaldi, either as dead or alive. As soon as Fazio perceived that there was no longer any talk about his sudden disappearance, he on his part began to let fall a word or two concerning his che✔mical discoveries. Shortly after he even spread a report under hand about something of a bar of gold. People laughed at him to his face, as they had already had so many examples of his having been deceived in his operations. But Fazio for ✓ this time stood firm to his assertions, prudently observed a certain gradation in his discourses and exhibitions of joy, and at last went so far as to talk of a journey to France for con. verting his bar into current coin. : The better to conceal his real design, he pretended to be in want of cash for his travelling charges, and borrowed a hundred florins on a farm, which he had not yet sent up the chimney. Fifty of them he kept to his own uses, and fifty he gave to his wife, at the same time assuring her of his speedy return. This information threw her into a tremor. She feared it was the ruin of his fortune that forced Fazio to fly his country: she never expected to see him again, and thought of nothing but the being shortly reduced to the extremity of distress, and left forlorn, with her two fatherless child ren, destitute of bread. She begged and conjured him not to travel. She spoke with so much eloquence and pathos, that Fazio was affected to that degree, as no longer to be able to conceal his secret, notwith. standing his resolution to keep it for life. He took her gently by the hand, led her into his cabinet, disclosed to her the transaction with Grimaldi, and shewed her his golden treasure. Dost thou now entertain any doubt of the truth of my ingot of gold? added he, with a smile. We may judge of the satisfaction this gave to Valentina, for this was the name of Fazio's wife. She fell upon his neck, and thanked, and flattered him as much, as before she had teazed him with reproaches and objections. A multitude of plans were struck out of future happiness and glory; and preparations for the journey were made with all speed. But when the very day fixt for his departure was come, Valentina, on whom Fazio, as we may easily imagine, had inculcated the profoundest silence, Valentina, I say, did not fail to make common cause with the rest of the family, and remonstrated against the journey as before. She pretended as if she had still her doubts, was lavish of her prayers and entreaties, and was almost dissolved in tears, without feeling the least uneasiness. Fazio passed for a fool. The whole town made game of him, and he laughed at the whole town in return. While he was on the way to Marseilles, his wife, whom he had left behind at Pisa, continued to play the part she had begun. She was incessantly complaining of her poverty, while in private she had plenty of all things. For her husband had left with her a sum of money which was more than sufficient for defraying her necessary expences. Every one lamented her fate, and yet yet she had no causes for pity but what she was forced to affect. Fazio placed out his pieces of gold, for which he got good bills of exchange on an eminent banker at Pisa, and wrote to his wife that he had disposed of his ingots of gold, and was already set out on his return. Valentina shewed the letter to her relations and acquaintance, and to all that were willing to see it: and every one that saw it was filled with surprise. The majority still doubted of the reality of Fazio's good fortune, when he arrived in person at Pra. He appeared with a triumphant air distributed his embraces on the right hand andthe left, and related the success with which his chemical labours had been crowned to all the world; not forgetting to add, that his bars, on being assayed, turned out to be the purest and the finest gold. He corroborated the verbal testimonies of his good fortune, by speaking and substantial proofs, and fetched from his banker's nine thousand gold dollars in specie. To this kind of demonstration no objec. tion could be made. The story was told from house to house, and all men extolled his knowledge in the occult science of the transmutation of metals. The very man, who but a few months before was pronounced a confirmed fool by the whole city at large, was now elevated by that very city to the rank of a great philosopher; and Fazio enjoyed, at one and the same time, the double advantage, of being honoured as both learned and rich. There was no longer any need of concealing his wealth, and therefore he gave scope to his desires. He redeemed his farm from the mortgage, bought himself a title at Rome, for connecting respect ani riches together, he procured a mag nificent house and a couple of estates, and made over the rest of his money to a merchant at ten per cent. He now kept two footmen, two maid servants, and, according t the prevailing mode of the times. two saddle horses, one for himse and the other for his wife. In th manner they enjoyed the pleasure of knowing themselves to be rich; pleasure that is far more sensiti felt by such as have formerly been in want. Valentina, who was now a woman of too much consideration to look after the affairs of the house herself, took home to her, with the approbation of her husband, an ola and very ugly relation, with her young and beautiful daughter. For living to the top of the grand style (probably it was then the fa shion at Pisa, as it is now with us in capital towns) Fazio resolved to keep a mistress. He cast his eyes on the daughter of the aged relation, who, as was said above, was ex. tremely handsome. She was called Adelaide, and was in the age of love and coquetry, either of which alone is sufficient to lead a man into folly. Adelaide lent a very willing ear to the overtures made by Fazio, and soon entered into so intimate a correspondence with him, as to occa sion a disagreement, with his wife. But ere Valentina had time to penetrate the secret, or to convince herself of her husband's infidelity, Fazio had already spent a considerable sum of money on his dear Adelaide. Valentina was jealous of her right to the last punctilio, and it grieved her much to see herself under the authority of an usurper. Discord broke broke in upon their conjugal union. Valentina, according to the ordinary course of things, became sullen, and Adelaide imperious. One day they quarrelled so violently, that Valenina turned the old housekeeper, with her daughter, out of doors. Fazio, on returning home, took this procedure very much amiss, grew so much the fonder of Adelaide, and hired a suitable lodging for her. Valentina, who was very violent _ by nature, could no longer moderate her fury. Fazio, having in vain tried every method to pacify or to deceive her, retired to his estate in the country, and had Adelaide brought to him. This no sooner reached the ears of Valentina, who in her jealousy was more like a fury than a woman, than she meditated the most horrid revenge. Without once reflecting on the melancholy consequences, she resolved to impeach her husband, before the magistrate, as the murderer of Grimaldi. She put her dreadful scheme in execution on thespot; and Fazio, who was dreaming away delicious moments in the company of his fair one, never thought of the storm that was gathering over his head. The judge, in the first place, examined into the circumstances delivered in by the informant, and then dispatched person's to dig up the ground in Fazio's cellar; where finding the remains of Grimaldi's body, Fazio was seized in the arms of Adelaide, and carried to prison. At first, he denied the charge; but. on being confronted with his wife, and she appearing as his accuser, he immediately exclaimed: "Wretch as thou art, had I loved thee less, thou wouldst not have been entrusted with my secret; I was weak from my love towards thee, and thou hast brought me hither." The torture, which at that time was so dangerous to accused innocence, extorted from Fazio a confession of all he had done, and even of what he had not. He accused himself as the murderer of Grimaldi, although he was not; and was sentenced to forfeit his possessions, and to suffer death, at the place of public execution. Valentina, on being dismissed, would have returned home to her habitation, but was not a little surprised at finding it beset with officers of justice, who had even turned her children out of it. No more was wanting than this fresh misfortune for completely rendering her a prey to despair. The stings of conscience already wrung her heart: for, her revenge being satiated, she had opened her eyes, saw the rashness of her conduct in all its extent, and had a full presentiment of her future misery. Pain and remorse now arose to their height. In frantic mood she ran about with dishevelled hair, and implored the judge to set free her husband, whom she herself had delivered up to the hangman. The sight of her children redoubled the pangs of her soul. The whole city resounded with this melancholy event. Valentina, who was a horror to herself, had not even the poor consolation of exciting compassion. Relations and acquaintance hated and avoided her like a ravening beast, Fazio, in the mean time, was awaiting his deplorable doom. He was led to the place of execution along the principal streets. He ascended the scaffold with great composure, avouched his innocence, and cursed the impetuous jealousy of 1 his wife. He was executed; and his body, according to custom, was e xposedon the scaffold as a terror to the beholders. Rage and despair had in the mean time transported Valentina to the dreadfullest of all imaginable deeds. She took her two children by the hand, and hur. ried them with hasty strides, and continually weeping, to the place of execution. She pressed through the crowd, who made way for her to pass, and loaded her with execrations, But Valentina was deaf to all that passed. She reached the foot of the bloody scaffold, and mounted with her children the fatal steps, as though she would once more embrace the body of her spouse. Valentina led her children quite up to the bleeding corpse, and bade them embrace their deceased father. At this doleful sight, and at the cries of these poor children, all the spectators burst out into tears, when suddenly the raging mother plunged a dagger into the breast of one, ran upon the other, and stretched him dead beside his dying brother. An universal burst of horror and dismay ascended to the skies! The populace ran to lay hold of herbut, already she had stabbed herself with the poignard, and fell lifeless on the bodies of her husband and children. The sight of the two murdered children, and the mother wallowing in their blood, filled all that were present with detestation and terror. It was as if the whole city had met with some general calamity. Astonishment and dejection took hold of every mind and heart. The inhabitants roamed up and down the streets in gloomy silence, and the crowd was incessantly renewing round the scaffold where the blood of the children and the mother was mingling with the blood of the innocent father. Even the hardest hearts were melted into pity and compassion. The judge, affected by the relation, granted leave to the family to inter the bodies of the father and mother in a place without the walls. The two children were buried in the church of St. Catharine. The tradition of this melancholy event has been preserved at Pisa to the present nt day, and it is still related there with visible concern, POETRY. POETRY. ODE for the NEW YEAR 1795. By HENRY JAMES PYE, Esq. Poet Laureat. From Parent-Elbe's high-trophy'd shore, III. Bright maid, to thy expecting eyes VOL. XXXVII. [*K] |