disclaimer: Lecter and starling ain't mine. Forgive some of the phrases fellas, I don't know much Latin, so please, bear with me if the translations were off. J
They have lunch together the next day. Two breathtakingly beautiful women in an open café near the Ponte Vecchio. The passersby stop to stare at this unusual sight in a city already full of heavenly beauty. Clarice found herself quite comfortable and at ease in Angelus' company. Their conversation flowed like the wine they drank. Rich, dark, smooth and fluid. Clarice marveled at the ease with which Angelus carried herself. The way she sipped from her glass, the way her long fingers would reach up to flick away some stray strands of hair that had been blown into her maroon eyes, and the way that the corners of her mouth twisted into a lazy smile.
The spoke in Italian of god and the devil, of the books that each had read, of their mutual admiration for Bach and Scarlatti, and Angelus was pleasantly surprised to discover that Clarice was quite familiar with the works of Dante Alighieri. They discussed at great length his La Vita Nuova, quoting phrases that had caught their individual fancy.
"For me, Dante's Nuova Antologia is the perfect and prime example of how deeply and intensely love can affect one person. Of how your whole life can chane in a moment. After all, upon beholding Beatrice, Dante believed he had found the new divinity in his life. Love." Clarice was saying.
"Do you really believe so, Hannah? Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur mihi?(Behold a god more powerful than I, who comes to rule over me)."
Angelus reached into her pocket and brought out an unopened pack of Marlboro reds. She tore away the gold strip and took out two sticks, handing one to Clarice and lighting for her with a delicately engraved gold lighter. Clarice took it gratefully. It was months since she last had a smoke. Angelus raised her hand, signaling the waitress for an ashtray and two cappuccinos.
"Of course. When Beatrice died, he wrote it in the antologia: O vos omnes qui transitis per viam, attendite et videte si est dolor sicut meus (O all you who pass this way, listen and see, if there is any grief like mine)"
"Hmmm, the words of Jeremiah the prophet." The waitress brought over the ashtray, informing them that it would take another five minutes for the cappuccinos. Angelus nodded in understanding.
"I'm surprised to find that you are well versed in the bible, Angelus." Clarice resumed the conversation.
"Well, I WAS named after the prayer." She smiled, eyes crinkling in a friendly manner. "The angel of the lord declared unto Mary, and she conceived of the Holy Spirit. Behold the handmaid of the Lord…"
"Be it done to me according to your word." Clarice finished.
"You don't seem to be too ignorant of it, Hannah." Angelus cocked her head to one side, looking into Clarice's eyes.
"No, I suppose not."
"Good." She declared. "Ah, here are our cappuccinos. Finally"
"Osanna in exelcis," Clarice said, earning another smile from the normally blank face of Angelus Antoine.
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They have lunch together the next day. Two breathtakingly beautiful women in an open café near the Ponte Vecchio. The passersby stop to stare at this unusual sight in a city already full of heavenly beauty. Clarice found herself quite comfortable and at ease in Angelus' company. Their conversation flowed like the wine they drank. Rich, dark, smooth and fluid. Clarice marveled at the ease with which Angelus carried herself. The way she sipped from her glass, the way her long fingers would reach up to flick away some stray strands of hair that had been blown into her maroon eyes, and the way that the corners of her mouth twisted into a lazy smile.
The spoke in Italian of god and the devil, of the books that each had read, of their mutual admiration for Bach and Scarlatti, and Angelus was pleasantly surprised to discover that Clarice was quite familiar with the works of Dante Alighieri. They discussed at great length his La Vita Nuova, quoting phrases that had caught their individual fancy.
"For me, Dante's Nuova Antologia is the perfect and prime example of how deeply and intensely love can affect one person. Of how your whole life can chane in a moment. After all, upon beholding Beatrice, Dante believed he had found the new divinity in his life. Love." Clarice was saying.
"Do you really believe so, Hannah? Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur mihi?(Behold a god more powerful than I, who comes to rule over me)."
Angelus reached into her pocket and brought out an unopened pack of Marlboro reds. She tore away the gold strip and took out two sticks, handing one to Clarice and lighting for her with a delicately engraved gold lighter. Clarice took it gratefully. It was months since she last had a smoke. Angelus raised her hand, signaling the waitress for an ashtray and two cappuccinos.
"Of course. When Beatrice died, he wrote it in the antologia: O vos omnes qui transitis per viam, attendite et videte si est dolor sicut meus (O all you who pass this way, listen and see, if there is any grief like mine)"
"Hmmm, the words of Jeremiah the prophet." The waitress brought over the ashtray, informing them that it would take another five minutes for the cappuccinos. Angelus nodded in understanding.
"I'm surprised to find that you are well versed in the bible, Angelus." Clarice resumed the conversation.
"Well, I WAS named after the prayer." She smiled, eyes crinkling in a friendly manner. "The angel of the lord declared unto Mary, and she conceived of the Holy Spirit. Behold the handmaid of the Lord…"
"Be it done to me according to your word." Clarice finished.
"You don't seem to be too ignorant of it, Hannah." Angelus cocked her head to one side, looking into Clarice's eyes.
"No, I suppose not."
"Good." She declared. "Ah, here are our cappuccinos. Finally"
"Osanna in exelcis," Clarice said, earning another smile from the normally blank face of Angelus Antoine.
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