To such dreamers--whose ideas were those of the majority of intelligent
men in France and Italy--Alfieri's high-sounding tirades embodied the
noblest of political creeds; and even the soberer judgment of statesmen
and men of affairs was captivated by the grandeur of his verse and the
heroic audacity of his theme. For the first time in centuries the
Italian Muse spoke with the voice of a man; and every man's heart in
Italy sprang up at the call.
In the midst of these triumphs, fate in the shape of Cardinal York had
momentarily separated Alfieri from his mistress, despatching the
too-tender Countess to a discreet retreat in Alsace, and signifying to
her turbulent adorer that he was not to follow her. Distracted by this
prohibition, Alfieri had resumed the nomadic habits of his youth, now
wandering from one Italian city to another, now pushing as far as Paris,
which he hated but was always revisiting, now dashing across the Channel
to buy thoroughbreds in England--for his passion for horses was
unabated. He was lately returned from such an expedition, having led his
cavalcade across the Alps in person, with a boyish delight in the
astonishment which this fantastic exploit excited.
The meeting between the two friends was all that Odo could have wished.
Though affecting to scorn the courts of princes, Alfieri was not averse
to showing himself there as the poet of the democracy, and to hearing
his heroes mouth their tyrannicidal speeches on the boards of royal and
ducal stages.
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