Montoni being now certain that these were the bands of the victorious
Utaldo, leaned from the carriage window, and hailed their general
by waving his cap in the air; which compliment the chief returned by
raising his spear, and then letting it down again suddenly, while some
of his officers, who were riding at a distance from the troops, came up
to the carriage, and saluted Montoni as an old acquaintance. The captain
himself soon after arriving, his bands halted while he conversed with
Montoni, whom he appeared much rejoiced to see; and from what he said,
Emily understood that this was a victorious army, returning into their
own principality; while the numerous waggons, that accompanied them,
contained the rich spoils of the enemy, their own wounded soldiers, and
the prisoners they had taken in battle, who were to be ransomed when
the peace, then negociating between the neighbouring states, should be
ratified.
The chiefs on the following day were to separate, and each,
taking his share of the spoil, was to return with his own band to his
castle. This was therefore to be an evening of uncommon and general
festivity, in commemoration of the victory they had accomplished
together, and of the farewell which the commanders were about to take of
each other. Emily, as these officers conversed with Montoni, observed with
admiration, tinctured with awe, their high martial air, mingled with
the haughtiness of the nobless of those days, and heightened by the
gallantry of their dress, by the plumes towering on their caps, the
armorial coat, Persian sash, and ancient Spanish cloak. Utaldo, telling
Montoni that his army were going to encamp for the night near a village
at only a few miles distance, invited him to turn back and partake
of their festivity, assuring the ladies also, that they should be
pleasantly accommodated; but Montoni excused himself, adding, that
it was his design to reach Verona that evening; and, after some
conversation concerning the state of the country towards that city, they
parted.
The travellers proceeded without any interruption; but it was some hours
after sun-set before they arrived at Verona, whose beautiful environs
were therefore not seen by Emily till the following morning; when,
leaving that pleasant town at an early hour, they set off for Padua,
where they embarked on the Brenta for Venice. Here the scene was
entirely changed; no vestiges of war, such as had deformed the plains of
the Milanese, appeared; on the contrary, all was peace and elegance. The
verdant banks of the Brenta exhibited a continued landscape of beauty,
gaiety, and splendour. Emily gazed with admiration on the villas of the
Venetian noblesse, with their cool porticos and colonnades, overhung
with poplars and cypresses of majestic height and lively verdure; on
their rich orangeries, whose blossoms perfumed the air, and on the
luxuriant willows, that dipped their light leaves in the wave, and
sheltered from the sun the gay parties whose music came at intervals on
the breeze. The Carnival did, indeed, appear to extend from Venice along
the whole line of these enchanting shores; the river was gay with boats
passing to that city, exhibiting the fantastic diversity of a masquerade
in the dresses of the people within them; and, towards evening, groups
of dancers frequently were seen beneath the trees.