The Making of a Saint

  XV

  Next morning I mounted my horse and set out with Matteo, who was toaccompany me for a little way.

  But at the town gate a guard stopped us and asked where we were going.

  'Out!' I answered shortly, moving on.

  'Stop!' said the man, catching hold of my bridle.

  'What the devil d'you mean?' said Matteo. 'D'you know whom we are?'

  'I have orders to let no one go by without the permission of mycaptain.'

  'What tyrants they are!' cried Matteo. 'Well, what the hell are youstanding there for? Go and tell your captain to come out.'

  The man signed to another soldier, who went into the guard-house; he wasstill holding my bridle. I was not very good-tempered that morning.

  'Have the goodness to take your hands off,' I said.

  He looked as if he were about to refuse.

  'Will you do as you are told?' Then, as he hesitated, I brought down thebutt-end of my whip on his fingers, and with an oath bade him standoff. He let go at once, cursing, and looked as if he would willinglystab me if he dared. We waited impatiently, but the captain did notappear.

  'Why the devil doesn't this man come?' I said; and Matteo, turning toone of the soldiers, ordered,--

  'Go and tell him to come here instantly.'

  At that moment the captain appeared, and we understood the incident, forit was Ercole Piacentini. He had apparently seen us coming, or heard ofmy intended journey, and had set himself out to insult us. We were bothfurious.

  'Why the devil don't you hurry up when you're sent for?' said Matteo.

  He scowled, but did not answer. Turning to me he asked,--

  'Where are you going?'

  Matteo and I looked at one another in amazement at the man's impudence,and I burst forth,--

  'You insolent fellow! What do you mean by stopping me like this?'

  'I have a right to refuse passage to anyone I choose.'

  'Take care!' I said. 'I swear the Count shall be told of your behaviour,and nowadays the Count is in the habit of doing as the Orsi tell him.'

  'He shall hear of this,' growled the Piacentini.

  'Tell him what you like. Do you think I care? You can tell him that Iconsider his captain a very impertinent ruffian. Now, let me go.'

  'You shall not pass till I choose.'

  'By God! man,' I said, absolutely beside myself, 'it seems I cannottouch you here, but if ever we meet in Citta di Castello--'

  'I will give you any satisfaction you wish,' he answered hotly.

  'Satisfaction! I would not soil my sword by crossing it with yours. Iwas going to say that if ever we meet in Castello I will have youwhipped by my lacqueys in the public place.'

  I felt a ferocious pleasure in throwing the words of contempt in hisface.

  'Come on,' said Matteo; 'we cannot waste our time here.'

  We put the spurs to our horses. The soldiers looked to their captain tosee whether they should stop us, but he gave no order, and we passedthrough. When we got outside, Matteo said to me,--

  'Girolamo must be planning something, or Ercole would not have dared todo that.'

  'It is only the impotent anger of a foolish man,' I answered. 'The Countwill probably be very angry with him when he hears of it.'

  We rode a few miles, and then Matteo turned back. When I found myselfalone I heaved a great sigh of relief. I was free for a while atleast.... Another episode in my life was finished; I could forget it,and look forward to new things.

  As I rode on, the March wind got into my blood and sent it whirlingmadly through my veins. The sun was shining brightly and coveredeverything with smiles; the fruit trees were all in flower--apples,pears, almonds--the dainty buds covered the branches with a snow of pinkand white. The ground beneath them was bespattered with narcissi andanemones, the very olive trees looked gay. All the world laughed withjoy at the bright spring morning, and I laughed louder than the rest. Idrew in long breaths of the keen air, and it made me drunk, so that Iset the spurs to my horse and galloped wildly along the silent road.

  I had made up my mind to forget Giulia, and I succeeded, for thechanging scenes took me away from myself, and I was intent on the worldat large. But I could not command my dreams. At night she came to me,and I dreamed that she was by my side, with her arms round my neck,sweetly caressing, trying to make me forget what I had suffered. And thewaking was bitter.... But even that would leave me soon, I hoped, andthen I should be free indeed.

  I rode on, full of courage and good spirits, along endless roads,putting up at wayside inns, through the mountains, past villages andhamlets, past thriving towns, till I found myself in the heart ofTuscany, and finally I saw the roofs of Florence spread out before me.

  After I had cleaned myself at the inn and had eaten, I sauntered throughthe town, renewing my recollections. I walked round Madonna del Fiore,and leaning against one of the houses at the back of the piazza lookedat the beautiful apse, the marble all glistening in the moonlight. Itwas very quiet and peaceful; the exquisite church filled me with a senseof rest and purity, so that I cast far from me all vice.... Then I wentto the baptistery and tried to make out in the dim light the details ofGhiberti's wonderful doors. It was late and the streets were silent asI strolled to the Piazza della Signoria, and saw before me the grimstone palace with its tower, and I came down to the Arno and looked atthe glistening of the water, with the bridge covered with houses; and asI considered the beauty of it all I thought it strange that the works ofman should be so good and pure and man himself so vile.

  Next day I set about my business. I had a special letter of introductionto Lorenzo, and was ushered in to him by a clerk. I found two people inthe room; one, a young man with a long, oval face, and the bones of theface and chin very strongly marked; he had a very wonderful skin, likebrown ivory, black hair that fell over his forehead and ears, and, moststriking of all, large brown eyes, very soft and melancholy. I thought Ihad never before seen a man quite so beautiful. Seated by him, talkingwith animation, was an insignificant man, bent and wrinkled and mean,looking like a clerk in a cloth merchant's shop, except for the massivegolden chain about his neck and the dress of dark red velvet with anembroidered collar. His features were ugly; a large, coarse nose, aheavy, sensual mouth, small eyes, but very sharp and glittering; thehair thin and short, the skin muddy, yellow, wrinkled--Lorenzo de'Medici!

  As I entered the room, he interrupted himself and spoke to me in aharsh, disagreeable voice.

  'Messer Filippo Brandolini, I think. You are very welcome.'

  'I am afraid I interrupt you,' I said, looking at the youth with themelancholy eyes.

  'Oh no,' answered Lorenzo, gaily. 'We were talking of Plato. I reallyought to have been attending to very much more serious matters, but Inever can resist Pico.'

  Then that was the famous Pico della Mirandola. I looked at him again andfelt envious that one person should be possessed of such genius and suchbeauty. It was hardly fair on Nature's part.

  'It is more the subject than I that is irresistible.'

  'Ah, the banquet!' said Lorenzo, clasping his hands. 'What aninexhaustible matter! I could go on talking about it all day and allnight for a year, and then find I had left unsaid half what I had in mymind.'

  'You have so vast an experience in the subject treated of,' said Pico,laughing; 'you could give a chapter of comment to every sentence ofPlato.'

  'You rascal, Pico!' answered Lorenzo, also laughing. 'And what is youropinion of love, Messer?' he added, turning to me.

  I answered, smiling,--

  _'Con tua promesse, et tua false parole,_ _Con falsi risi, et con vago sembiante,_ _Donna, menato hai il tuo fidele amante.'_

  * * * * *

  _Those promises of thine, and those false words,_ _Those traitor smiles, and that inconstant seeming,_ _Lady, with these thou'st led astray thy faithful lover.__

  They were Lorenzo's own lines, and he was delighted that I should quotethem, but still th
e pleasure was not too great, and I saw that it mustbe subtle flattery indeed that should turn his head.

  'You have the spirit of a courtier, Messer Filippo,' he said in reply tomy quotation. 'You are wasted on liberty!'

  'It is in the air in Florence--one breathes it in through every pore.'

  'What, liberty?'

  'No; the spirit of the courtier.'

  Lorenzo looked at me sharply, then at Pico, repressing a smile at mysarcasm.

  'Well, about your business from Forli?' he said; but when I beganexplaining the transaction he interrupted me. 'Oh, all that you canarrange with my secretaries. Tell me what is going on in the town. Therehave been rumours of disturbance.'

  I looked at Pico, who rose and went out, saying,--

  'I will leave you. Politics are not for me.'

  I told Lorenzo all that had happened, while he listened intently,occasionally interrupting me to ask a question. When I had finished, hesaid--

  'And what will happen now?'

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  'Who knows?'

  'The wise man knows,' he said earnestly, 'for he has made up his mindwhat will happen, and goes about to cause it to happen. It is only thefool who trusts to chance and waits for circumstances to developthemselves....'

  'Tell your master--'

  'I beg your pardon?' I interrupted.

  He looked at me interrogatively.

  'I was wondering of whom you were speaking,' I murmured.

  He understood and, smiling, said,--

  'I apologise. I was thinking you were a Forlivese. Of course, I remembernow that you are a citizen of Castello, and we all know how tenaciousthey have been of their liberty and how proud of their freedom.'

  He had me on the hip; for Citta di Castello had been among the first ofthe towns to lose its liberty, and, unlike others, had borne itsservitude with more equanimity than was honourable.

  'However,' he went on, 'tell Checco d'Orsi that I know Girolamo Riario.It was his father and he who were the prime movers in the conspiracywhich killed my brother and nearly killed myself. Let him remember thatthe Riario is perfectly unscrupulous, and that he is not accustomed toforgive an injury--or forget it. You say that Girolamo has repeatedlythreatened Checco. Has that had no effect on him?'

  'He was somewhat alarmed.'

  'Besides?'

  I looked at him, trying to seize his meaning.

  'Did he make up his mind to sit still and wait till Girolamo found meansto carry his threats into effect?'

  I was rather at a loss for an answer. Lorenzo's eyes were fixed keenlyupon me; they seemed to be trying to read my brain.

  'It was suggested to him that it would be unwise,' I replied slowly.

  'And what did he answer to that?'

  'He recalled the ill results of certain recent--events.'

  'Ah!'

  He took his eyes off me, as if he had suddenly seen the meaning behindmy words, and was now quite sure of everything he wanted to know. Hewalked up and down the room, thinking; then he said to me,--

  'Tell Checco that Girolamo's position is very insecure. The Pope isagainst him, though he pretends to uphold him. You remember that whenthe Zampeschi seized his castle of San Marco, Girolamo thought they hadthe tacit consent of the Pope, and dared make no reprisal. LodovicoSforza would doubtless come to the assistance of his half-sister, but heis occupied with the Venetians--and if the people of Forli hate theCount!'

  'Then you advise--'

  'I advise nothing. But let Checco know that it is only the fool whoproposes to himself an end when he cannot or will not attain it; but theman who deserves the name of man, marches straight to the goal withclearness of mind and strength of will. He looks at things as they areand puts aside all vain appearances; and when his intelligence has shownhim the means to his end, he is a fool if he refuses them, and he is awise man if he uses them steadily and unhesitatingly. Tell that toChecco!'

  He threw himself into his chair with a little cry of relief.

  'Now we can talk of other things. Pico!'

  A servant came in to say that Pico had gone away.

  'The villain!' cried Lorenzo. 'But I daresay you will want to go awaytoo, Messer Brandolini. But you must come to-morrow; we are going to actthe Menacchini of Plautus; and besides the wit of the Latin you willsee all the youth and beauty of Florence.'

  As I took my leave, he added,--

  'I need not warn you to be discreet.'