Page 30 of Agnes of Sorrento


  CHAPTER XXVIII

  PALM SUNDAY

  The morning after her arrival in Rome, Agnes was awakened from sleepby a solemn dropping of bell-tones which seemed to fill the whole air,intermingled dimly at intervals with long-drawn plaintive sounds ofchanting. She had slept profoundly, overwearied with her pilgrimage,and soothed by that deep lulling sense of quiet which comes over one,when, after long and weary toils, some auspicious goal is at lengthreached. She had come to Rome, and been received with open arms intothe household of the saints, and seen even those of highest degreeimitating the simplicity of the Lord in serving the poor. Surely,this was indeed the house of God and the gate of heaven; and so thebell-tones and chants, mingling with her dreams, seemed naturallyenough angel-harpings and distant echoes of the perpetual adorationof the blessed. She rose and dressed herself with a tremulous joy.She felt full hope that somehow--in what way she could not say--thisauspicious beginning would end in a full fruition of all her wishes, ananswer to all her prayers.

  "Well, child," said old Elsie, "you must have slept well; you lookfresh as a lark."

  "The air of this holy place revives me," said Agnes, with enthusiasm.

  "I wish I could say as much," said Elsie. "My bones ache yet with thetramp, and I suppose nothing will do but we must go out now to all theholy places, up and down and hither and yon, to everything that goeson. I saw enough of it all years ago when I lived here."

  "Dear grandmother, if you are tired, why should you not rest? I can goforth alone in this holy city. No harm can possibly befall me here. Ican join any of the pilgrims who are going to the holy places where Ilong to worship."

  "A likely story!" said Elsie. "I know more about old Rome than you do,and I tell you, child, that you do not stir out a step without me; soif you must go, I must go too,--and like enough it's for my soul'shealth. I suppose it is," she added, after a reflective pause.

  "How beautiful it was that we were welcomed so last night!" said Agnes;"that dear lady was so kind to me!"

  "Ay, ay, and well she might be!" said Elsie, nodding her head. "Butthere's no truth in the kindness of the nobles to us, child. They don'tdo it because they love us, but because they expect to buy heaven bywashing our feet and giving us what little they can clip and snip offfrom their abundance."

  "Oh, grandmother," said Agnes, "how can you say so? Certainly, if anyone ever spoke and looked lovingly, it was that dear lady."

  "Yes, and she rolls away in her carriage, well content, and leaves youwith a pair of new shoes and stockings,--you, as worthy of a carriageand a palace as she."

  "No, grandmamma; she said she should send for me to talk more with her."

  "_She_ said she should send for you?" said Elsie. "Well, well, that isstrange, to be sure!--that is wonderful!" she added, reflectively. "Butcome, child, we must hasten through our breakfast and prayers, and goto see the Pope, and all the great birds with fine feathers that flyafter him."

  "Yes, indeed!" said Agnes, joyfully. "Oh, grandmamma, what a blessedsight it will be!"

  "Yes, child, and a fine sight enough he makes with his great canopyand his plumes and his servants and his trumpeters;--there isn't a kingin Christendom that goes so proudly as he."

  "No other king is worthy of it," said Agnes. "The Lord reigns in him."

  "Much you know about it!" said Elsie, between her teeth, as theystarted out.

  The streets of Rome through which they walked were damp andcellar-like, filthy and ill-paved; but Agnes neither saw nor feltanything of inconvenience in this: had they been floored, like those ofthe New Jerusalem, with translucent gold, her faith could not have beenmore fervent.

  Rome is at all times a forest of quaint costumes, a pantomime ofshifting scenic effects of religious ceremonies. Nothing there, howeversingular, strikes the eye as out-of-the-way or unexpected, since noone knows precisely to what religious order it may belong, or whatindividual vow or purpose it may represent. Neither Agnes nor Elsie,therefore, was surprised, when they passed through the doorway to thestreet, at the apparition of a man covered from head to foot in a longrobe of white serge, with a high-peaked cap of the same material drawncompletely down over his head and face. Two round holes cut in thisghostly head-gear revealed simply two black glittering eyes, whichshone with that singular elfish effect which belongs to the human eyewhen removed from its appropriate and natural accessories. As theypassed out, the figure rattled a box on which was painted an imageof despairing souls raising imploring hands from very red tongues offlame, by which it was understood at once that he sought aid for soulsin Purgatory. Agnes and her grandmother each dropped therein a smallcoin and went on their way; but the figure followed them at a littledistance behind, keeping carefully within sight of them.

  By means of energetic pushing and striving, Elsie contrived to securefor herself and her grandchild stations in the piazza in front of thechurch, in the very front rank, where the procession was to pass. Amotley assemblage it was, this crowd, comprising every variety ofcostume of rank and station and ecclesiastical profession,--cowlsand hoods of Franciscan and Dominican,--picturesque head dressesof peasant-women of different districts,--plumes and ruffs of moreaspiring gentility,--mixed with every quaint phase of foreign costumebelonging to the strangers from different parts of the earth;--for,like the old Jewish Passover, this celebration of Holy Week had itsassemblage of Parthians, Medes, Elamites, dwellers in Mesopotamia,Cretes, and Arabians, all blending in one common memorial.

  Amid the strange variety of persons among whom they were crowded, Elsieremarked the stranger in the white sack, who had followed them, and whohad stationed himself behind them,--but it did not occur to her thathis presence there was other than merely accidental.

  And now came sweeping up the grand procession, brilliant with scarletand gold, waving with plumes, sparkling with gems,--it seemed as ifearth had been ransacked and human invention taxed to express theultimatum of all that could dazzle and bewilder,--and, with a rustlelike that of ripe grain before a swaying wind, all the multitude wentdown on their knees as the cortege passed. Agnes knelt, too, withclasped hands, adoring the sacred vision enshrined in her soul; and asshe knelt with upraised eyes, her cheeks flushed with enthusiasm, herbeauty attracted the attention of more than one in the procession.

  "There is the model which our master has been looking for," said ayoung and handsome man in a rich dress of black velvet, who, by hiscostume, appeared to hold the rank of first chamberlain in the Papalsuite.

  The young man to whom he spoke gave a bold glance at Agnes andanswered,--

  "Pretty little rogue, how well she does the saint!"

  "One can see that with judicious arrangement she might make a nymph aswell as a saint," said the first speaker.

  "A Daphne, for example," said the other, laughing.

  "And she wouldn't turn into a laurel, either," said the first."Well, we must keep our eye on her." And as they were passing intothe church-door, he beckoned to a servant in waiting and whisperedsomething, indicating Agnes with a backward movement of his hand.

  The servant, after this, kept cautiously within observing distance ofher, as she with the crowd pressed into the church to assist at thedevotions.

  Long and dazzling were those ceremonies, when, raised on high likean enthroned God, Pope Alexander VI. received the homage of bendedknee from the ambassadors of every Christian nation, from heads ofall ecclesiastical orders, and from generals and chiefs and princesand nobles, who, robed and plumed and gemmed in all the brightest andproudest that earth could give, bowed the knee humbly and kissed hisfoot in return for the palm-branch which he presented. Meanwhile,voices of invisible singers chanted the simple event which all thissplendor was commemorating,--how of old Jesus came into Jerusalem meekand lowly, riding on an ass,--how His disciples cast their garmentsin the way, and the multitude took branches of palm-trees to comeforth and meet Him,--how He was seized, tried, condemned to a crueldeath,--and the crowd, with dazzled and wondering eyes following thegorgeous ceremonial, reflec
ted little how great was the satire of thecontrast, how different the coming of that meek and lowly One to sufferand to die from this triumphant display of worldly pomp and splendor inHis professed representative.

  But to the pure all things are pure, and Agnes thought only of theenthronement of all virtues, of all celestial charities and unworldlypurities in that splendid ceremonial, and longed within herself toapproach so near as to touch the hem of those wondrous and sacredgarments. It was to her enthusiastic imagination like the unclosingof celestial doors, where the kings and priests of an eternal andheavenly temple move to and fro in music, with the many-colored gloriesof rainbows and sunset clouds. Her whole nature was wrought upon bythe sights and sounds of that gorgeous worship,--she seemed to burnand brighten like an altar-coal, her figure appeared to dilate, hereyes grew deeper and shone with a starry light, and the color of hercheeks flushed up with a vivid glow; nor was she aware how often eyeswere turned upon her, nor how murmurs of admiration followed all herabsorbed, unconscious movements. "_Ecco! Eccola!_" was often repeatedfrom mouth to mouth around her, but she heard it not.

  When at last the ceremony was finished, the crowd rushed again outof the church to see the departure of various dignitaries. There wasa perfect whirl of dazzling equipages, and glittering lackeys, andprancing horses, crusted with gold, flaming in scarlet and purple,retinues of cardinals and princes and nobles and ambassadors all in onesplendid confused jostle of noise and brightness.

  Suddenly a servant in a gorgeous scarlet livery touched Agnes on theshoulder, and said, in a tone of authority,--

  "Young maiden, your presence is commanded."

  "Who commands it?" said Elsie, laying her hand on her grandchild'sshoulder fiercely.

  "Are you mad?" whispered two or three women of the lower orders toElsie at once; "don't you know who that is? Hush, for your life!"

  "I shall go with you, Agnes," said Elsie, resolutely.

  "No, you will not," said the attendant, insolently. "This maiden iscommanded, and none else."

  "He belongs to the Pope's nephew," whispered a voice in Elsie's ear."You had better have your tongue torn out than say another word."Whereupon, Elsie found herself actually borne backward by three or fourstout women.

  Agnes looked round and smiled on her,--a smile full of innocenttrust,--and then, turning, followed the servant into the finest of theequipages, where she was lost to view.

  Elsie was almost wild with fear and impotent rage; but a low,impressive voice now spoke in her ear. It came from the white figurewhich had followed them in the morning.

  "Listen," it said, "and be quiet; don't turn your head, but hear whatI tell you. Your child is followed by those who will save her. Go yourways whence you came. Wait till the hour after the Ave Maria, then cometo the Porta San Sebastiano, and all will be well."

  When Elsie turned to look she saw no one, but caught a distant glimpseof a white figure vanishing in the crowd. She returned to her asylum,wondering and disconsolate, and the first person whom she saw was oldMona.

  "Well, good-morrow, sister!" she said. "Know that I am here on astrange errand. The Princess has taken such a liking to you thatnothing will do but we must fetch you and your little one out to hervilla. I looked everywhere for you in church this morning. Where haveyou hid yourselves?"

  "We were there," said Elsie, confused, and hesitating whether to speakof what had happened.

  "Well, where is the little one? Get her ready; we have horses inwaiting. It is a good bit out of the city."

  "Alack!" said Elsie, "I know not where she is."

  "Holy Virgin!" said Mona, "how is this?"

  Elsie, moved by the necessity which makes it a relief to open theheart to some one, sat down on the steps of the church and poured forththe whole story into the listening ear of Mona.

  "Well, well, well!" said the old servant, "in our days, one doesnot wonder at anything, one never knows one day what may come thenext,--but this is bad enough!"

  "Do you think," said Elsie, "there is any hope in that strange promise?"

  "One can but try it," said Mona.

  "If you could but be there then," said Elsie, "and take us to yourmistress."

  "Well, I will wait, for my mistress has taken an especial fancy to yourlittle one, more particularly since this morning, when a holy Capuchincame to our house and held a long conference with her, and after he wasgone I found my lady almost in a faint, and she would have it that weshould start directly to bring her out here, and I had much ado to lether see that the child would do quite as well after services were over.I tired myself looking about for you in the crowd."

  The two women then digressed upon various gossiping particulars,as they sat on the old mossy, grass-grown steps, looking up overhouse-tops yellow with lichen, into the blue spring air, where flocksof white pigeons were soaring and careering in the soft, warm sunshine.Brightness and warmth and flowers seemed to be the only idea naturalto that charming weather, and Elsie, sad-hearted and foreboding as shewas, felt the benign influence. Rome, which had been so fatal a placeto her peace, yet had for her, as it has for every one, potent spellsof a lulling and soothing power. Where is the grief or anxiety that canresist the enchantment of one of Rome's bright, soft, spring days?