All Ferrara was proud of them as the finest ornaments
of the Court, of society, and of the city. But
in personal appearance they did not resemble each other,
although both were distinguished for their stately,
youthful beauty. Fabio was the taller of the
two, white of complexion, with ruddy-gold hair, and
had blue eyes. Muzio, on the contrary, had a swarthy
face, black hair, and in his dark-brown eyes there
was not that merry gleam, on his lips not that cordial
smile, which Fabio had; his thick eyebrows over-hung
his narrow eyelids, while Fabio’s golden brows
rose in slender arches on his pure, smooth forehead.
Muzio was less animated in conversation also; nevertheless
both friends were equally favoured by the ladies;
for not in vain were they models of knightly courtesy
and lavishness.
At one and the same time with them there dwelt in
Ferrara a maiden named Valeria. She was considered
one of the greatest beauties in the city, although
she was to be seen only very rarely, as she led a retired
life and left her house only to go to church;—and
on great festivals for a walk. She lived with
her mother, a nobly-born but not wealthy widow, who
had no other children. Valeria inspired in every
one whom she met a feeling of involuntary amazement
and of equally involuntary tender respect: so
modest was her mien, so little aware was she, to all
appearance, of the full force of her charms. Some
persons, it is true, thought her rather pale; the
glance of her eyes, which were almost always lowered,
expressed a certain shyness and even timidity; her
lips smiled rarely, and then but slightly; hardly
ever did any one hear her voice. But a rumour
was in circulation to the effect that it was very
beautiful, and that, locking herself in her chamber,
early in the morning, while everything in the city
was still sleeping, she loved to warble ancient ballads
to the strains of a lute, upon which she herself played.
Despite the pallor of her face, Valeria was in blooming
health; and even the old people, as they looked on
her, could not refrain from thinking:—“Oh,
how happy will be that young man for whom this bud
still folded in its petals, still untouched and virgin,
shall at last unfold itself!”
Fabio and Muzio beheld Valeria for the first time
at a sumptuous popular festival, got up at the command
of the Duke of Ferrara, Ercole, son of the famous
Lucrezia Borgia, in honour of some distinguished grandees
who had arrived from Paris on the invitation of the
Duchess, the daughter of Louis XII, King of France.
Side by side with her mother sat Valeria in the centre
of an elegant tribune, erected after drawings by Palladius
on the principal square of Ferrara for the most honourable
ladies of the city. Both Fabio and Muzio fell
passionately in love with her that day; and as they
concealed nothing from each other, each speedily learned
what was going on in his comrade’s heart.
They agreed between themselves that they would both
try to make close acquaintance with Valeria, and if
she should deign to choose either one of them the other
should submit without a murmur to her decision.
