The Honour of Savelli: A Romance
Angiola, as I called her to myself, once again. I was pulled by
different strings. There was that I called conscience, urging me to
give up my schemes of revenge; there was the wild animal in me,
telling me to go on; there was a feeling towards a woman, which I had
honestly never experienced before, which, despite my struggles against
its apparently hopeless folly, was entirely overmastering me, until I
did not know which way to turn, and to escape from it all decided to
leave Florence at once; and then altered my mind again, when I thought
of the plot I wished to thwart, and determined to make a last effort
to do this, and, if possible, to see Angiola once more before I left.
At last I went to sleep, waking very late in the morning. So sound was
my slumber, that when I awoke I thought at first that the events of
the night were nothing more than a dream; but they soon forced
themselves on me in their reality, and the fact was emphasised, by the
sight of the odd pauls, which were now my all, lying on the table. I
gathered these up, and proceeded in search of Ceci to ask if he had
made any arrangements for the burial; but he was nowhere to be found;
and, as I could not bring myself to see Corte then, I resolved to
breakfast on fresh air, a diet which however wholesome, was, I found,
certainly not satisfying. I went to the Oricellari Gardens, which were
at that time the property of the Rucellai. Here, within the city
walls, one found a forest, and under the shade of the huge trees, a
more miserable being than myself could have spent pleasant hours, and
perhaps gained contentment of mind by observing the beauties of
nature. It was here that, after the death of Il Magnifico, the
Platonic Academy moved its sittings. But the gentlemen who composed it
discussed their philosophy with a good dinner, and even the
unfortunate who wishes to gain peace of mind in sylvan shades, should
have a full belt. This fact obtruded itself more and more strongly on
me, and I could obtain little relief by the expedient of tightening my
sword-belt by a hole or so. Therefore, in despair, I left the beauties
of nature to be so good as to look after themselves, and disbursed a
half-paul in something to eat; after which I felt able to face the
prospect of future starvation with a more serene mind. On return to my
lodging I found Ceci was not yet come back, and still thinking it
would be an intrusion to make inquiry after Corte, disposed of my time
by repairing my attire as best I might, and watching the pigeons on
the eaves of the roof opposite my window, with a little envy in my
heart at their simple happiness, and a doubt if, after all, man was so
fortunate in possessing a soul, and being cast after the image of his
Maker. If our faith is to be believed there is nothing for man but
heaven or hell, and perhaps the worst form of hell-torment would be to
be born again in the lowest form of a dumb brute, with the faculty of
fully appreciating all that the highest of mankind can. Picture to
oneself a Raphael, who has slipped into the abyss, and is sent back to
earth again, an obscene animal, with all the grasp of the beautiful he
had in life. I do not know any punishment that would be more cruel.
On the other hand, there has never appeared to me any definite
realisation of the joys of heaven. It is no doubt their vagueness that
is their charm. Be these things as they may, all speculation into the
future is useless, and I have found my comfort in a simple faith in
our religion, which has served me through this life, and will, I
trust, do the same office in the next.
Thus reflecting, I passed the day quietly, and in the afternoon Ceci
came to tell me all was ready for the burial. He gave me to understand
that Corte had listened to reason in the matter of a priest, although
I never knew what arguments he had used to effect this. The funeral
was much as other pauper burials, and when it was over we walked back
together. On our return a man accosted Ceci, who, he said, was his
nephew, and they went off together on some business. Had I only known
what I was to be indebted to this gentleman for, shortly, I should
have observed him with greater attention. As it happened I gave him
but a passing glance, catching a glimpse of a pale face, with strong,
clear-cut features, and keen, bright eyes. Corte and I were now alone,
and, respecting his grief, I said no word, nor did he speak, as we
threaded our way back. Near St. Mark's, Corte suddenly seized my hand,
raised it to his lips, and then turning, fled down a side street and
was lost to view. I attempted to follow, fearing that sorrow had
totally unhinged his mind, already a little off its balance, and that
he would come to injury. My attempt however was without avail, and I
returned home to disprove the proverb which falsely says that he who
sleeps, dines.
The next day I was again favoured with a visit from Ceci, and after
some allusion to the funeral, he once more broached the subject on
which he had sounded me before, and asked for a definite reply. I gave
it to him without hesitation.
"Messer Ceci," I said, "whatever my condition may be, you are in error
if you think I am a bravo. In short your proposal is an insult, and
you owe it to my consideration for your years that I do not fling you
out of the room. I have promised you secrecy, and therefore cannot do
as I would, and that is, lay the matter before the Signory; but I tell
you plainly that if I can I will upset your plan, and now you had
better leave me."
I had by this thrown everything into the fire; but it was not possible
to control myself longer. As for Ceci, he sat for a moment, his eyes
staring out of his head with rage, and his white beard fairly
bristling. He rose from his seat.
"So, Signor' Donati, this is your answer, is it? Look to yourself,
most noble excellency, for those I serve have a long reach. There is,
however, another thing we have to settle before I go. I shall be
obliged by your paying me the sum of three crowns for rent, and other
services due to the excellent Messer Nobili."
I was overcome with shame, for I had not the money.
"You can take this furniture," I said, "it will pay my dues."
Ceci smiled grimly.
"I do not wish to be hard on you, and you know the punishment for
debt. I will take the furniture back for two pieces, although it has
deteriorated by wear and tear to the value of a florin, and you will
still owe one piece. See, signore," and he suddenly changed his tone,
"pocket your pride, as many a better man than you has done to fill his
purse. It is but a stroke of your sword we want, and here are ten gold
crowns."
"Begone!" I cried in a rage, and starting up laid my hand on my sword.
Ceci instantly drew a dagger from his girdle and faced me with the
highest courage. We stood before each other for a second, and then
with a laugh he put back his poniard.
"I will give you time," he said. "A whole week--and now leave you to
cool. Adieu, most noble excellency!"
CHAPTER IX.
THE MARZOCCO INN.
I tried every possible means I could think of to obtain employment, to
no avail, and, in the intervals of my fruitless search for work,
haunted the streets and gardens, with the hope of obtaining another
glimpse of Angiola, but without any success. Inch by inch my resources
diminished, until they became so small that a blind beggar would have
hardly thanked me for the gift of them. I lived in constant dread of
Ceci reappearing to demand the sum I owed for my rent, but he did not
come. He was evidently giving me time, starving me out to surrender to
his terms. I used to see him as I went in and out, sitting in his
office like a spider, yet he never even lifted his head as I passed. I
hated, almost feared, going by that door. Bitterly did I regret not
having left Florence when I was able. It was now impossible to do so,
unless as a defaulter, and the weight of that paltry debt oppressed
me, as if a cannon-ball were slung around my neck. I could not leave
until I paid it, and of doing this there seemed no prospect. I had
parted with my cloak for money to buy food, but the last copper of
that was gone, and I was now penniless. For two days I had not eaten
anything but a morsel of bread, and on the morning of the third day I
rose desperate with hunger, and prepared to go any lengths to satisfy
it. I ate my self-esteem and made another attempt to see La Palisse,
but was denied admittance, and when I came back I actually hesitated
before the door of Ceci's office, and almost made up my mind to yield,
and say I would do his business for him. It required an effort, so low
had I sunk, to rouse my pride. At last it flared up, and with a cheek
hot at my weakness, I sought my chamber and there passed the day. The
pigeons that lived under the eaves opposite my window, and to whose
soft cooing I so often listened with pleasure before, now aroused
other thoughts within me. If I could only lure one within reach! But
it was impossible, and I glared at them as they fluttered and flirted
with each other, with the hungry eyes of a cat baulked of her prey. At
last I gave it up, and with a curse flung myself on my bed. Fool that
I was! Five-and-thirty years should have brought me wisdom. I had
stayed on in Florence, allowed my chances of revenge to get more
distant, in fact, reached a stage of mind when I was doubtful if I
could rightly exact vengeance, drifted into abject poverty, and worse
than that, was continually thinking of a woman, who, when I had
rendered her a service, treated me with contempt, who had no doubt
forgotten me by this time, amidst her duties, if she had any, and her
pleasures, of which I doubt not she had store. So the evening came
amidst my reflections and self-reproaches, and, it being dusk, I
decided to go forth again, and snatch a purse, if necessary, to obtain
food. As I rose, an impulse I could not control made me unfasten my
money-belt, and search if by chance there was a coin within it. Of
course there was not a brown copper, but my fingers, in running up the
belt, touched something hard, and I pulled forth, attached to its tag
of red ribbon, my cross of St. Lazare, which, it will be remembered, I
had placed therein for safety the night I was imprisoned in the Villa
Accolti. I had clean forgot it in my troubles, and now it lay in my
open palm, with the diamonds in it winking in my face. My whole frame
trembled with excitement. Here was the means of freeing myself from
debt at once, and of obtaining funds to quit Florence, nay Europe. At
the lowest computation its worth could have been no less than forty
crowns, and this at present was wealth to me. What with the effects of
the want of food, and the sudden discovery of the cross, I began to
feel weak all over, and flinging the badge on the table, sank down
into a chair before it to compose myself. The room was almost dark,
and I sat staring at the jewels and at the diamonds on it, which
sparkled through the gloom. That little trinket was linked with the
one great event of my life. All the past came vividly before my
excited brain. I was again in that desperate retreat of Charles of
France up the valley of the Taro, with the army of the League in full
cry behind us. The old boar Trevulzio commanded the rear guard,
disputed every inch of the road, and now and again stood boldly at
bay, and gave a taste of his tusks to the Duke of Bari, and the fine
gentlemen of Venice. It was at this moment that Roderigo Gonsaga made
his dash for the heights above the junction of the Ceno and the Taro.
Trevulzio saw the movement; he was powerless to help, and knew that if
it succeeded all was lost. At the time I was at his bridle hand.