VI
There had been a great commotion in Forli during the last two days; forit had become known that the country people of the Count's domain hadsent a petition for the removal of certain taxes which pressed soheavily upon them, that the land was speedily going to ruin. Theproprietors were dismissing their labourers, the houses of the peasantswere falling into decay, and in certain districts the poverty hadreached such a height that the farmers had not even grain wherewith tosow their fields, and all around the ground was lying bare and desolate.A famine had been the result, and if the previous year the countrymenhad found it difficult to pay their taxes, this year they found itimpossible. Girolamo had listened to their arguments, and knew them tobe true. After considering with his councillors, he had resolved toremit certain of the more oppressive taxes; but in doing this he wasconfronted with the fact that his Treasury was already empty, and thatif the income were further diminished it would be impossible for him tomeet the demands of the coming year.
It was clear that the country could not pay, and it was clear that themoney must be procured. He set his eyes on the town, and saw that it wasrich and flourishing, but he dared not, on his own initiative, proposeany increase in its burdens. He called a council, showed the state ofhis affairs, and asked the elders for advice. No one stirred or spoke.At last Antonio Lassi, a creature of the Count, whom he had raised tothe council from a humble position, rose to his feet and gave utteranceto the plan which his master had suggested to him. The pith of it was toabrogate the taxes on the country people, and in compensation placeothers on certain food-stuffs and wines, which had previously gone free.Girolamo answered in a studied speech, pretending great unwillingness tocharge what were the necessaries of life, and asked several of the moreprominent members what they thought of the suggestion. They had metAntonio Lassi's speech with silence, and now applauded Girolamo'sanswer; they agreed with him that such taxes should not be. Then theCount changed his tone. He said it was the only means of raising themoney, and gathering anger from their sullen looks and their silence, hetold them that if they would not give their sanction to the decree, hewould do without their sanction. Then, breaking short, he asked them fortheir answer. The councillors looked at one another, rather pale butdetermined; and the reply came from one after the other, quietly,--
'No--no--no!'
Antonio Lassi was cowed, and dared not give his answer at all. TheCount, with an oath, beat his fist on the table and said, 'I amdetermined to be lord and master here; and you shall learn, all of you,that my will is law.'
With that he dismissed them.
When the people heard the news, there was great excitement. The murmursagainst the Count, which had hitherto been cautiously expressed, werenow cried out in the market-place; the extravagance of the Countess wasbitterly complained of, and the townsmen gathered together in groups,talking heatedly of the proposed exaction, occasionally breaking outinto open menace. It was very like sedition.
On the day after the council, the head of the customs had been almosttorn to pieces by the people as he was walking towards the Palace, andon his way back he was protected by a troop of soldiers. Antonio Lassiwas met everywhere with hoots and cries, and Checco d'Orsi, meeting himin the loggia of the piazza, had assailed him with taunts and bittersarcasms. Ercole Piacentini interposed and the quarrel nearly ended in abrawl; but Checco, with difficulty restraining himself, withdrew beforeanything happened....
On leaving Donna Giulia, I walked to the piazza. and found the samerestlessness as on the preceding days. Through all these people astrange commotion seemed to pass, a tremor like the waves of the sea;everywhere little knots of people were listening eagerly to some excitedspeaker; no one seemed able to work; the tradesmen were gathered attheir doors talking with one another; idlers were wandering to and fro,now joining themselves to one group, now to another.
Suddenly there was a silence; part of the crowd began looking eagerly inone direction, and the rest in their curiosity surged to the end of thepiazza to see what was happening. Then it was seen that Caterina wasapproaching. She entered the place, and all eyes were fixed upon her. Asusual, she was magnificently attired; her neck and hands and arms, herwaistband and headgear, shone with jewels; she was accompanied byseveral of her ladies and two or three soldiers as guard. The crowdseparated to let her pass, and she walked proudly between the serriedrows of people, her head uplifted and her eyes fixed straight in front,as if she were unaware that anyone was looking at her. A fewobsequiously took off their hats, but most gave no greeting; all aroundher was silence, a few murmurs, an oath or two muttered under breath,but that was all. She walked steadily on, and entered the Palace gates.At once a thousand voices burst forth, and after the deadly stillnessthe air seemed filled with confused sounds. Curses and imprecations werehurled on her from every side; they railed at her pride, they called herfoul names.... Six years before, when she happened to cross the streets,the people had hurried forward to look at her, with joy in their heartsand blessings on their lips. They vowed they would die for her, theywere in ecstasies at her graciousness.
I went home thinking of all these things and of Donna Giulia. I wasrather amused at my unintentional kiss; I wondered if she was thinkingof me.... She really was a charming creature, and I was glad at theidea of seeing her again on the morrow. I liked her simple, ferventpiety. She was in the habit of going regularly to mass, and happening tosee her one day, I was struck with her devout air, full of faith; shealso went to confessional frequently. It was rather absurd to think shewas the perverse being people pretended....
When I reached the Palazzo Orsi I found the same excitement as outsidein the piazza, Girolamo had heard of the dispute in the loggia, and hadsent for Checco to hear his views on the subject of the tax. Theaudience was fixed for the following morning at eleven, and as Checconever went anywhere without attendants, Scipione Moratini, Giulia'ssecond brother, and I were appointed to accompany him. Matteo was not togo for fear of the presence of the two most prominent members of thefamily tempting the Count to some sudden action.
The following morning I arrived at San Stefano at half-past nine, and tomy surprise found Giulia waiting for me.
'I did not think you would be out of the confessional so soon,' I said.'Were your sins so small this week?'
'I haven't been,' she answered. 'Scipione told me that you and he wereto accompany Checco to the Palace, and I thought you would have to leavehere early, so I postponed the confessional.'
'You have preferred earth and me to Heaven and the worthy father?'
'You know I would do more for you than that,' she answered.
'You witch!'
She took my arm.
'Come,' she said, 'come and sit in one of the transept chapels; it isquiet and dark there.'
It was deliciously cool. The light came dimly through the colouredglass, clothing the marble of the chapel in mysterious reds and purples,and the air was faintly scented with incense. Sitting there she seemedto gain a new charm. Before, I had never really appreciated the extremebeauty of the brown hair tinged with red, its wonderful quality andluxuriance. I tried to think of something to say, but could not. I satand looked at her, and the perfumes of her body blended with theincense.
'Why don't you speak?' she said.
'I'm sorry; I have nothing to say.'
She laughed.
'Tell me of what you are thinking.'
'I daren't,' I said.
She looked at me, repeating the wish with her eyes.
'I was thinking you were very beautiful.'
She turned to me and leant forward so that her face was close to mine;her eyes acquired a look of deep, voluptuous languor. We sat withoutspeaking, and my head began to whirl.
The clock struck ten.
'I must go,' I said, breaking the silence.
'Yes,' she answered, 'but come to-night and tell me what has happened.'
I promised I would, then asked whether I should lead her to another partof the church.
> 'No, leave me here,' she said. 'It is so good and quiet. I will stay andthink.'
'Of what?' I said.
She did not speak, but she smiled so that I understood her answer.