A portrait of the family of Ferdinand IV and Maria Carolina of Austria, done in 1783 by Angelica Kauffman.
Maria Theresa plays the harp on the far left, and next to her is her brother Francis with a dog. Ferdinand and Maria Carolina are in the middle, with
Maria Cristina Teresa
leaning on her mother. Maria Luisa sits in a carriage on the far right, and Maria Amalia sits in her sister’s lap. Prince Gennaro sits on a cushion on the floor, dressed in blue.
Four other children had died of smallpox before the portrait was done; Prince Carlo in 1778, Princess Maria Anna in 1780, Princess
Maria Cristina Amelia
in 1783, and Prince Giuseppe in 1783. Another daughter,
Maria Cristina, was stillborn the same year the portrait was completed.
Princess Maria Amélia de Bragança, daughter of Emperor Dom Pedro I of Brazil and Amélie von Leuchtenberg by Friedrich Dürck, 1849.
In 1852, Maria Amélia fell in love with her cousin, Austrian Archduke Maximilian. Their engagement was never officially announced and soon after she contracted tuberculosis, dying in 1853 at the tender age of 22. Archduke Maximilian went on the become the ill-fated Emperor Maximilian the I of Mexico.
But that wasn’t the end of Maria Amélia’s story. Maximilian continued to cherish her memory until his death in 1867. In a last homage to his dead fiancee, as he was being stripped of his belongings to face the revolutionary firing squad, Maximilian tenderly removed from around his neck a small religious medallion Maria Amélia had given him so many years ago and asked that it to be sent to her mother for safekeeping.
ROW 1: Sara Aldrete, Juana Barraza, Elizabeth Bathory, Marie Alexandra Becker, Marie Besnard, Elfriede Blauensteiner, Mary Ann Cotton
ROW 2: Nanny Doss, Amelia Dyer, Kristin Gilbert, Delfina and Maria de Jesus Gonzalez, Dana Sue Gray, Belle Gunness
ROW 3: Anna Hahn, Myra Hindley, Karla Homolka, Hélène Jégado, Delphine LaLaurie, Enriqueta Martí, Dagmar Overbye
ROW 4: Dorothea Puente, Raya and Sakina, Darya Saltykova, Jane Toppan, Rosemary West, Aileen Wuornos
These women ran the whole gamut - some preyed on men, some on women, some on the elderly, some on children, and one of them even made victims out of war veterans. Some killed family members, while others killed complete strangers. Some killed with a partner, while some killed alone. Some of them were born into rich families and were well-educated, and others were born into poverty and lived rough lives of crime and prostitution. Some raped and tortured their victims before killing them, and others just made the deaths quick and painless. Some were driven by love, money, anger, or just the voices in their heads. One thing they all had in common? They got famous for killing multiple victims and showing no remorse.
prompt: [requested via wattpad] Hi can i have two more imagines please both from the tv show merlin. One with Merlin where I’m Prince Arthur sister and we’re stealing a moment alone the other with Sir Gwaine where he meets me when i have snuck out to the tavern
“Oh, wow,” a voice beside you said.
You peered at its owner from the corner of your eye and found that it was a bearded man you had never seen before–a commoner. He was sitting down on the neighbouring barstool, never taking his eyes off you. At first, you thought he might have recognized you as the princess, but you had never seen this man before and doubted he would know if he was new in town. “What?” you sighed finally, returning your focus back to your drink.
“Oh nothing,” he shrugged, nodding in appreciation at the bartender when his drink was handed to him across the bar. “I’m just not used to seeing such beauty, especially not in a dark old tavern like this.”
You rolled your eyes. “Did you honestly think that was going to work?"
"A man can hope, can he not?”
“He can hope all he wants. It doesn’t mean it will get him anywhere."
The man feigned injury, clutching his chest and looking pained. "You break my heart, miss. It’s alright, though. I like a girl with a bit of a bite.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at this, though you tried to hide it by bringing your glass to your lips. “Then it’s your lucky day,” you said before taking another swig.
“You can say that again.” He watched you intently for a moment, eyeing you up and down. “So, do you have a name, or would you rather just take mine when we are wed?”
You snorted at his terrible pick up line. “Does your shameless flirting often work on girls?”
“You tell me,” he replied, smiling lazily at you. “Did it work on you?”
“No. I think I am quite able to resist your charms at present.”
“Then you have your answer. Can you really blame a man for trying, though?”
You finished the last of your drink and hopped down from the barstool. “No, but I can walk away from you.”
You did as promised, feeling his eyes burning a hole in your back. “Oh come on, leaving so soon? Won’t you at least tell me your name?”
You spun around, an eyebrow raised. “I’ll make you a deal. I will tell you my name if you tell me yours first.”
“I am Gwaine. Otherwise known as your future husband.” He gave you a cheeky wink, one that might have made you blush if you were not the one who held the power in this situation.
“Lovely to meet you, Gwaine–or, on second thought, perhaps not so lovely to meet you."
"And you? I expect it is a name as beautiful as your face. Amelia? Sophia? Maria?”
“You may call me Princess [Y/N],” you interrupted, enjoying the sight of him flushing with the realization that you were a royal. “Daughter of King Uther Pendragon. I am quite sure you have heard of him.”
“I was not aware that this tavern accommodated nobility. Forgive me, Princess.”
“Yes, well, you mention this to no one and we shall call it even. After all, you owe me for not leaving sooner.”
He nodded, his eyes glittering in amusement. “You have yourself a deal, Princess. You will not let me buy you a drink, first? I shall make less of an embarrassment of myself this time round, I promise.”
“I find that rather hard to believe. Goodbye, Gwaine. Enjoy your drink.”
He smirked, raising his glass towards you as though he was about to make a toast. “I shall see you soon, Princess. I will make sure of it.”
“Yes, in your dreams.” You left before he could reply, feeling satisfied with yourself and perhaps, in the cold night air, a little flustered. Perhaps Gwaine was not the only one who held out hope for another meeting, after all.
MARIA BOCCANEGRA a.k.a AMELIA GRIMALDI and Come in quest’ora bruna
Who’s she: The Doge’s long lost daugher, raised by the Grimaldis
In love with: Gabriele Adorno
Cause of death: None, she survives
Appears in: Simon Boccanegra (1857, revised in 1881)
Come in quest'ora bruna
Sorridon gli astri e il mare!
Come s'unisce, o luna,
All'onda il tuo chiaror!
Ah! amante amplesso pare
Di due virginei cor!
Ma gli astri e la marina
Che dicono alla mente
La notte atra, crudel,
Quando la pia morente sciamò :
Ti guardi il ciel!
O altero ostel, soggiorno
Di Stirpe ancor più altera,
Il tetto disadorno
Non obliai per te!
Ah! solo in tua pompa austera
Amor sorride a me.
S'inalba il ciel!
Ma l'amoroso canto
Non s'ode ancora!
Ei mi terge ogni dì,
Come l'aurora la rugiada dei fior,
Del ciglio il pianto.
(How in this morning light The sea and the stars shine brightly! How your light, oh moon joins with the distant waves! It seems the fond embrace of two virginal hearts! But what do the stars and sea bring to this poor orphan’s mind? The dark and cruel night when the pious dying woman exclaimed: ‘May Heaven watch over you!’ Oh haughty palace, home of an even prouder lineage! You never made me forget about that humble roof! But here, among your austere pomp, love smiles on me. Dawn has come, and still, I don’t hear his loving song! He dries my tears each day as dawn dries the dew from the flowers.)
Amelia’s scene opens the first act of Simon Boccanegra, after a Prologue in which we are witness to Boccanegra’s ascension to power and the death of his lover Maria, daughter of his political rival Fiesco. After being orphaned Maria and Simon’s daughter will be raised at the Grimaldi palace, taking the place of the real Amelia Grimaldi, who died during her childhood. Yes, it’s complicated, but Antonio Gutiérrez (the opera is based on one of his plays) definitely had a thing with switching children (*). She soon will discover ther true parentage and name, after a visit of the Doge himself.
One of the greatest things of this scene (and the same can be said of Simon Boccanegra in its entirety) is how atmosferic the music sounds, you can almost smell the sea. The 1857 version sounded a little different, and included a cabaletta that Verdi eliminated in 1881.