When they emerged from the viewing room, the Carnival had officially begun: the bell of Monte Citorio was ringing, the square was full of masked revelers throwing confetti and flowers, the scaffold and executioners gone as if they had never been. The Count left Franz and Albert his carriage for the rest of the Carnival, his coachman dressed as a bear and his footmen as green monkeys, and they changed into the blue and white satin costumes he provided, joining the procession of carriages flowing through the Corso, throwing handfuls of confetti at passersby and other carriages. Albert caught the eye of a Roman peasant girl in a nearby carriage, who threw him a bunch of violets; he pinned them to his buttonhole, and over the next few days, the two exchanged bouquets and flirted from their carriages, Albert convinced she was a noblewoman in disguise. The next day, Albert asked Pastrini to make them Roman peasant costumes for the final days of the Carnival, and though Pastrini insisted no tailor could work that fast, the next morning he arrived with eight ready-made peasant costumes; Franz and Albert picked two matching ones, with long silk sashes and ribbons for their hats.
On the final Tuesday of the Carnival, the festivities reached their peak: the streets were packed with masks of every description, confetti, oranges, and flowers flew through the air, no fights or accidents marred the festivities. The horse races were held in the morning, and in the evening, the moccoli celebration began, where revelers bought candles and tried to keep theirs lit while blowing out everyone else’s. Franz and Albert joined the crowd, Albert wearing a harlequin costume with a knot of rose-colored ribbons on his shoulder, the peasant girl now in a matching harlequin costume, who threw him another bouquet and raised her mask for a fleeting second, confirming she was the same woman he had been flirting with. That evening, Albert received a note from her, instructing him to meet her the next Tuesday at seven, opposite the Via dei Pontefici, follow the peasant who snatches his torch, and tie a rose ribbon to his shoulder to be recognized. Franz, who had a papal audience scheduled for the next day, promised to give Albert the carriage so he could keep the rendezvous.
The next morning, Franz saw Albert pacing with a huge bouquet, convinced he was about to meet his mystery woman. Franz attended his papal audience, returning to the hotel with a head full of pious thoughts, disturbed by the contrast between the sacred ceremony and the rowdy Carnival outside. That evening, they attended the theatre in the Count’s box, where the Countess G—— pressed Franz for details about the Count, and Franz told her he was a Tuscan noble who had bought the island of Monte Cristo, immensely wealthy, and eccentric as a Byron hero. The Count joined them later, confirming he was heading to the Palli Theatre, and gave them the key to his box for the rest of the week. Franz could not help but admire the Count’s stern, Byronic features, the pale, haunted cast of his face, the quiet intensity that made him seem like a figure stepped out of a gothic poem.
On the final, most chaotic day of the Carnival, the streets were a sea of noise and color: masks of every description roamed the streets, confetti, oranges, and flowers flew through the air, no fights or accidents marred the festivities. After the horse races, the moccoli sellers appeared, and by dusk, fifty thousand candles glittered through the crowd, the Corso as bright as day. Albert, in his harlequin costume, fought off masks trying to snatch his candle, and when he reached the church of San Giacomo at the appointed time, a peasant woman in a matching costume snatched his moccoletto from him, and he followed her arm-in-arm into the crowd. Franz watched him disappear, then the bell rang signaling the end of Carnival, and every single candle was extinguished at once, plunging the city into total darkness. The only light came from the carriages carrying revelers home, and the Carnival was over.
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