A TRAGIC TALE FROM FLORENCE.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXII, Issue 2593, 23 February 1889, Page 2 (Supplement)

A TRAGIC TALE FROM FLORENCE.

A. MUiuiKii of such rom;vntio interest and such terrible consequences took place, in Florence on the IStli instant, thifc some account of it, says a correspondent can scarcely be deemed without interest even for Unglish readers. The victim was a patrician lady of great beauty, of lart>e wealth, and of honourable name, the Countess Costa of Verona, and the scene of the murder was the cemetery chapel whore her husband was buried four years a"O. The countess, a woman still attractive and lovely, with a toll and sraccfnl fi i> lire delicate features, brown eyes and chestnut hair, was left a widow with four children and a considerable fortune, admired and respected by all, and singularly happy i ,l tl,e circumstances of her life. Her landau, with her handsome children and her favourite little dog, w a familiar feature in the drives of the Casino. An Italian officer, Gactano Bosoherini, who was among- the amis da In. mttisoH at, the Oasa Costa, and who is bolicvod to have been passionately in lovo with her before his departure for Massowah, on his return from Africa resumed his familiar intercourse with the family, and was nonsuited and employed by them in various matters of business. Latterly, however, be hccnme ili.'wit.i..-ficd with this position of trust and fri; nd-.liip, and m:idr> he.r repeated proposals of iiiitrnajre, which the countess refusal, but refused in such u manner as to leave friendship stiil possible between them. It. is ahvay-i slid to bo a perilous task to chairve n Imvr into a friend, but slio evidently believed that it was possible to retain a frinni wi thoiit allott'inirhiintobceomcalovor. l'\)ralthough she persistently repulsed the idea of a .second marriasro, she continued to receive B'-ij-oheriiii as before, and on the 18th December, when he offered to accompany her to th<? ohiipnl of San Miuiato, on i.li'.' visit of her busband's tomb, which she

was wont to pay every mouth, sho allowed him to do, telling her children that she would meet them later oil at Giucosa'.boubon shop. While the poor children waited there, happily chattennir of coming Nalittie presents aud feslivilics, their mother was assassinated by Bosoberiui in the mortuary chapel at San MiniatoThe brute stabbed her with a knifo, one thrustdividing the heart itself, another passing from the jugular vein on the left to the carotid artery on the right. He then, shot himself with a revolver, blowing to pieces his face and head. That this frightful murder was pro meditated is of course evident by the weapons employed. Whether tho cause was the mere brutality of disappointed passion, or whether the dosira to obtain possession of her wealth had been added to admiral.i'.m of her person, or whether ancient jealousy of tho husband whose memory sho cherished, or present jealou-y of some more favoured suitor, drove the fiend who killed her to his horrible vengeance will in all probability never bo known. Seldom has a more atrocious crime been irnajrisied. The scone of the murder, tho high hill which Michael Angelo c.illcd his brtU villanellrr, aud where tho legends of the saints plauo the martyrdom of St. Minias whom tho panther spared; the glorious sylvan beauty around, where the hist golden foliage of autumn still lingers among- the deep green of ivy and arbutus and cypress, the brilliant sunshine which fell that day ou the white marbles, tho glittering crosses, the many-coloured mosaics, the old brown watch-tower of Michael Angelo brooding over all, with the white doves circling round it; down below iu the city the waiting children, ignorant of their loss, laughing and talking, full of the merriment of the season, wondering heedlessly why their mother tarried so long—all these circumstances and accessories enhance an exceptionally tragic tale of passion aud revenge. ■