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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"The Valley of Decision"


The tables before the coffee-houses were thronged with idlers taking
their chocolate and reading the gazettes; and here and there the arched
doorway of a palace showed some gay party supping al fresco in a garden
hung with lamps.
The flashing of lights and the noise of the streets roused Cantapresto,
who sat up with a sudden assumption of dignity.
"Ah, cavaliere," said he, "you now see a great city, a famous city, a
city aptly called 'the Paris of Italy.' Nowhere else shall you find such
well-lit streets, such fair pavements, shops so full of Parisian wares,
promenades so crowded with fine carriages and horses. What a life a
young gentleman may lead here! The court is hospitable, society amiable,
the theatres are the best-appointed in Italy."
Here Cantapresto paused with a deprecating cough.
"Only one thing is necessary," he went on, "to complete enjoyment of the
fruits of this garden of Eden; and that is"--he coughed
again--"discretion. His Majesty, cavaliere, is a father to his subjects;
the Church is their zealous mother; and between two such parents, and
the innumerable delegates of their authority, why, you may fancy, sir,
that a man has to wear his eyes on all sides of his head. Discretion is
a virtue the Church herself commends; it is natural, then, that she
should afford her children full opportunity to practise it. And look
you, cavaliere, it is like gymnastics: the younger you acquire it, the
less effort it costs. Our Maker Himself has taught us the value of
silence by putting us speechless into the world: if we learn to talk
later we do it at our own risk! But for your own part, cavaliere--since
the habit cannot too early be exercised--I would humbly counsel you to
say nothing to your illustrious parents of our little diversion of last
evening.


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