But
when, at such a moment, _Mi manca la voce_ is being sung, and by the
finest voices in Italy, it is easy to understand what it was that
brought the tears to Rodolphe's eyes.
In love, as perhaps in all else, there are certain circumstances,
trivial in themselves, but the outcome of a thousand little previous
incidents, of which the importance is immense, as an epitome of the
past and as a link with the future. A hundred times already we have
felt the preciousness of the one we love; but a trifle--the perfect
touch of two souls united during a walk perhaps by a single word, by
some unlooked-for proof of affection, will carry the feeling to its
supremest pitch. In short, to express this truth by an image which has
been pre-eminently successful from the earliest ages of the world,
there are in a long chain points of attachment needed where the
cohesion is stronger than in the intermediate loops of rings. This
recognition between Rodolphe and Francesca, at this party, in the face
of the world, was one of those intense moments which join the future
to the past, and rivet a real attachment more deeply in the heart. It
was perhaps of these incidental rivets that Bossuet spoke when he
compared to them the rarity of happy moments in our lives--he who had
such a living and secret experience of love.
Next to the pleasure of admiring the woman we love, comes that of
seeing her admired by every one else.
Pages:
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85