CHAPTER IV. MY LORD GAMBARA CLEARS THE GROUND
I had angered her! Worse; I had exposed her to humiliation at the handsof that unworthy animal who soiled her in thought with the slime ofhis suspicions. Through me she had been put to the shameful need oflistening at a door, and had been subjected to the ignominy of being sodiscovered. Through me she had been mocked and derided!
It was all anguish to me. For her there was no shame, no humiliation, nopain I would not suffer, and take joy in the suffering so that it be forher. But to have submitted that sweet, angelic woman to suffering--tohave incurred her just anger! Woe me!
I came to the table that evening full of uneasiness, very unhappy,feeling it an effort to bring myself into her presence and endure be ither regard or her neglect. To my relief she sent word that she was notwell and would keep her chamber; and Fifanti smiled oddly as he strokedhis blue chin and gave me a sidelong glance. We ate in silence, and whenthe meal was done, I departed, still without a word to my preceptor, andwent to shut myself up again in my room.
I slept ill that night, and very early next morning I was astir. I wentdown into the garden somewhere about the hour of sunrise, through thewet grass that was all scintillant with dew. On the marble bench by thepond, where the water-lilies were now rotting, I flung myself down, andthere was I found a half-hour later by Giuliana herself.
She stole up gently behind me, and all absorbed and moody as I was, Ihad no knowledge of her presence until her crisp boyish voice startledme out of my musings.
"Of what do we brood here so early, sir saint?" quoth she.
I turned to meet her laughing eyes. "You... you can forgive me?" Ifaltered foolishly.
She pouted tenderly. "Should I not forgive one who has acted foolishlyout of love for me?"
"It was, it was..." I cried; and there stopped, all confused, feelingmyself growing red under her lazy glance.
"I know it was," she answered. She set her elbows on the seat's tallback until I could feel her sweet breath upon my brow. "And should Ibear you a resentment, then? My poor Agostino, have I no heart to feel?Am I but a cold, reasoning intelligence like that thing my husband?O God! To have been mated to that withered pedant! To have beensacrificed, to have been sold into such bondage! Me miserable!"
"Giuliana!" I murmured soothingly, yet agonized myself.
"Could none have foretold me that you must come some day?"
"Hush!" I implored her. "What are you saying?"
But though I begged her to be silent, my soul was avid for more suchwords from her--from her, the most perfect and beautiful of women.
"Why should I not?" said she. "Is truth ever to be stifled? Ever?"
I was mad, I know--quite mad. Her words had made me so. And when, to askme that insistent question, she brought her face still nearer, I flungdown the reins of my unreason and let it ride amain upon its desperate,reckless course. In short, I too leaned forward, I leaned forward, and Ikissed her full upon those scarlet, parted lips.
I kissed her, and fell back with a cry that was of anguish almost--sopoignantly had the sweet, fierce pain of that kiss run through my everyfibre. And as I cried out, so too did she, stepping back, her handssuddenly to her face. But the next moment she was peering up at thewindows of the house--those inscrutable eyes that looked upon our deed;that looked and of which it was impossible to discern how much theymight have seen.
"If he should have seen us!" was her cry; and it moved me unpleasantlythat such should have been the first thought my kiss inspired in her."If he should have seen us! Gesu! I have enough to bear already!"
"I care not," said I. "Let him see. I am not Messer Gambara. No manshall put an insult upon you on my account, and live."
I was become the very ranting, roaring, fire-breathing type of lover whowill slaughter a whole world to do pleasure to his mistress or to spareher pain--I--I--I, Agostino d'Anguissola--who was to be ordained nextmonth and walk in the ways of St. Augustine!
Laugh as you read--for very pity, laugh!
"Nay, nay," she reassured herself. "He will be still abed. He wassnoring when I left." And she dismissed her fears, and looked at meagain, and returned to the matter of that kiss.
"What have you done to me, Agostino?"
I dropped my glance before her languid eyes. "What I have done tono other woman yet," I answered, a certain gloom creeping over theexultation that still thrilled me. "O Giuliana, what have you done tome? You have bewitched me; You have made me mad!" And I set my elbows onmy knees and took my head in my hands, and sat there, overwhelmed now bythe full consciousness of the irrevocable thing that I had done, a thingthat must brand my soul for ever, so it seemed.
To have kissed a maid would have been ill enough for one whose aims weremine. But to kiss a wife, to become a cicisbeo! The thing assumed in mymind proportions foolishly, extravagantly beyond its evil reality.
"You are cruel, Agostino," she whispered behind me. She had come to leanagain upon the back of the bench. "Am I alone to blame? Can the ironwithstand the lodestone? Can the rain help falling upon the earth? Canthe stream flow other than downhill?" She sighed. "Woe me! It is I whoshould be angered that you have made free of my lips. And yet I am here,wooing you to forgive me for the sin that is your own."
I cried out at that and turned to her again, and I was very white, Iknow.
"You tempted me!" was my coward's cry.
"So said Adam once. Yet God thought otherwise, for Adam was as fullypunished as was Eve." She smiled wistfully into my eyes, and my sensesreeled again. And then old Busio, the servant, came suddenly forthfrom the house upon some domestic errand to Giuliana, and thus was thatsituation mercifully brought to an end.
For the rest of the day I lived upon the memory of that morning,reciting to myself each word that she had uttered, conjuring up inmemory the vision of her every look. And my absent-mindedness wasvisible to Fifanti when I came to my studies with him later. He grewmore peevish with me than was habitual, dubbed me dunce and wooden-head,and commended the wisdom of those who had determined upon a claustrallife for me, admitting that I knew enough Latin to enable me tocelebrate as well as another without too clear a knowledge of themeaning of what I pattered. All of which was grossly untrue, for, asnone knew better than himself, the fluency of my Latin was above thecommon wont of students. When I told him so, he delivered himself of hisopinion upon the common wont of students with all the sourness of hiscrabbed nature.
"I'll write an ode for you upon any subject that you may set me," Ichallenged him.
"Then write one upon impudence," said he. "It is a subject you shouldunderstand." And upon that he got up and flung out of the room in a petbefore I could think of an answer.
Left alone, I began an ode which should prove to him his lack ofjustice. But I got no further than two lines of it. Then for a spell Isat biting my quill, my mind and the eyes of my soul full of Giuliana.
Presently I began to write again. It was not an ode, but a prayer,oddly profane--and it was in Italian, in the "dialettale" that provokedFifanti's sneers. How it ran I have forgotten these many years. But Irecall that in it I likened myself to a sailor navigating shoals andbesought the pharos of Giuliana's eyes to bring me safely through,besought her to anoint me with her glance and so hearten me to brave thedangers of that procellous sea.
I read it first with satisfaction, then with dismay as I realized to thefull its amorous meaning. Lastly I tore it up and went below to dine.
We were still at table when my Lord Gambara arrived. He came onhorseback attended by two grooms whom he left to await him. He was allin black velvet, I remember, even to his thigh-boots which were lacedup the sides with gold, and on his breast gleamed a fine medallion ofdiamonds. Of the prelate there was about him, as usual, nothing but thescarlet cloak and the sapphire ring.
Fifanti rose and set a chair for him, smiling a crooked smile thatheld more hostility than welcome. None the less did his excellency payMadonna Giuliana a thousand compliments as he took his seat, supreme
lycalm and easy in his manner. I watched him closely, and I watchedGiuliana, a queer fresh uneasiness pervading me.
The talk was trivial and chiefly concerned with the progress of thebarracks the legate was building and the fine new road from the middleof the city to the Church of Santa Chiara, which he intended shouldbe called the Via Gambara, but which, despite his intentions, is knownto-day as the Stradone Farnese.
Presently my cousin arrived, full-armed and very martial by contrastwith the velvety Cardinal. He frowned to see Messer Gambara, theneffaced the frown and smiled as, one by one, he greeted us. Last of allhe turned to me.
"And how fares his saintliness?" quoth he.
"Indeed, none too saintly," said I, speaking my thoughts aloud.
He laughed. "Why, then, the sooner we are in orders, the sooner shall webe on the road to mending that. Is it not so, Messer Fifanti?
"His ordination will profit you, I nothing doubt," said Fifanti, withhis habitual discourtesy and acidity. "So you do well to urge it."
The answer put my cousin entirely out of countenance a moment. It wasa blunt way of reminding me that in this Cosimo I saw one who followedafter me in the heirship to Mondolfo, and in whose interests it was thatI should don the conventual scapulary.
I looked at Cosimo's haughty face and cruel mouth, and conjectured inthat hour whether I should have found him so very civil and pleasant acousin had things been other than they were.
O, a very serpent was Messer Fifanti; and I have since wondered whetherof intent he sought to sow in my heart hatred of my guelphic cousin,that he might make of me a tool for his own service--as you shall cometo understand.
Meanwhile, Cosimo, having recovered, waved aside the imputation, andsmiled easily.
"Nay, there you wrong me. The Anguissola lose more than I shall gain byAgostino's renunciation of the world. And I am sorry for it. You believeme, cousin?"
I answered his courteous speech as it deserved, in very courteous terms.This set a pleasanter humour upon all. Yet some restraint abode. Eachsat, it seemed, as a man upon his guard. My cousin watched Gambara'severy look whenever the latter turned to speak to Giuliana; theCardinal-legate did the like by him; and Messer Fifanti watched themboth.
And, meantime, Giuliana sat there, listening now to one, now to theother, her lazy smile parting those scarlet lips--those lips that I hadkissed that morning--I, whom no one thought of watching!
And soon came Messer Annibale Caro, with lines from the last pages ofhis translation oozing from him. And when presently Giuliana smote herhands together in ecstatic pleasure at one of those same lines andbade him repeat it to her, he swore roundly by all the gods that arementioned in Virgil that he would dedicate the work to her upon itscompletion.
At this the surliness became general once more and my Lord Gambaraventured the opinion--and there was a note of promise, almost of threat,in his sleek tones--that the Duke would shortly be needing Messer Caro'spresence in Parma; whereupon Messer Caro cursed the Duke roundly andwith all a poet's volubility of invective.
They stayed late, each intent, no doubt, upon outstaying the others.But since none would give way they were forced in the end to departtogether.
And whilst Messer Fifanti, as became a host, was seeing them to theirhorses, I was left alone with Giuliana.
"Why do you suffer those men?" I asked her bluntly. Her delicatebrows were raised in surprise. "Why, what now? They are very pleasantgentlemen, Agostino."
"Too pleasant," said I, and rising I crossed to the window whence Icould watch them getting to horse, all save Caro, who had come afoot."Too pleasant by much. That prelate out of Hell, now..."
"Sh!" she hissed at me, smiling, her hand raised. "Should he hear you,he might send you to the cage for sacrilege. O Agostino!" she cried,and the smiles all vanished from her face. "Will you grow cruel andsuspicious, too?"
I was disarmed. I realized my meanness and unworthiness.
"Have patience with me," I implored her. "I... I am not myself to-day."I sighed ponderously, and fell silent as I watched them ride away. YetI hated them all; and most of all I hated the dainty, perfumed,golden-headed Cardinal-legate.
He came again upon the morrow, and we learnt from the news of whichhe was the bearer that he had carried out his threat concerning MesserCaro. The poet was on his way to Parma, to Duke Pier Luigi, dispatchedthither on a mission of importance by the Cardinal. He spoke, too, ofsending my cousin to Perugia, where a strong hand was needed, as thetown showed signs of mutiny against the authority of the Holy See.
When he had departed, Messer Fifanti permitted himself one of his bitterinsinuations.
"He desires a clear field," he said, smiling his cold smile uponGiuliana. "It but remains for him to discover that his Duke has need ofme as well."
He spoke of it as a possible contingency, but sarcastically, as menspeak of things too remote to be seriously considered. He was toremember his words two days later when the very thing came to pass.
We were at breakfast when the blow fell.
There came a clatter of hooves under our windows, which stood open tothe tepid September morning, and soon there was old Busio ushering inan officer of the Pontificals with a parchment tied in scarlet silk andsealed with the arms of Piacenza.
Messer Fifanti took the package and weighed it in his hand, frowning.Perhaps already some foreboding of the nature of its contents was in hismind. Meanwhile, Giuliana poured wine for the officer, and Busio borehim the cup upon a salver.
Fifanti ripped away silk and seals, and set himself to read. I can seehim now, standing near the window to which he had moved to gain a betterlight, the parchment under his very nose, his short-sighted eyes screwedup as he acquainted himself with the letter's contents. Then I saw himturn a sickly leaden hue. He stared at the officer a moment and then atGiuliana. But I do not think that he saw either of them. His look wasthe blank look of one whose thoughts are very distant.
He thrust his hands behind him, and with head forward, in that curiousattitude so reminiscent of a bird of prey, he stepped slowly back to hisplace at the table-head. Slowly his cheeks resumed their normal tint.
"Very well, sir," he said, addressing the officer. "Inform hisexcellency that I shall obey the summons of the Duke's magnificencewithout delay."
The officer bowed to Giuliana, took his leave, and went, old Busioescorting him.
"A summons from the Duke?" cried Giuliana, and then the storm broke
"Ay," he answered, grimly quiet, "a summons from the Duke." And hetossed it across the table to her.
I saw that fateful document float an instant in the air, and then,thrown out of poise by the blob of wax, swoop slanting to her lap.
"It will come no doubt as a surprise to you," he growled; and upon thathis hard-held passion burst all bonds that he could impose upon it.His great bony fist crashed down upon the board and swept a preciousVenetian beaker to the ground, where it burst into a thousand atoms,spreading red wine like a bloodstain upon the floor.
"Said I not that this rascal Cardinal would make a clear field forhimself? Said I not so?" He laughed shrill and fiercely. "He would sendyour husband packing as he has sent his other rivals. O, there is astipend waiting--a stipend of three hundred ducats yearly that shall bemade into six hundred presently, and all for my complaisance, all that Imay be a joyous and content cornuto!"
He strode to the window cursing horribly, whilst Giuliana sat white offace with lips compressed and heaving bosom, her eyes upon her plate.
"My Lord Cardinal and his Duke may take themselves together to Hell ereI obey the summons that the one has sent me at the desire of the other.Here I stay to guard what is my own."
"You are a fool," said Giuliana at length, "and a knave, too, for youinsult me without cause."
"Without cause? O, without cause, eh? By the Host! Yet you would nothave me stay?"
"I would not have you gaoled, which is what will happen if you disobeythe Duke's magnificence," said she.
"Gaoled?" quoth
he, of a sudden trembling in the increasing intensity ofhis passion. "Caged, perhaps--to die of hunger and thirst and exposure,like that poor wretch Domenico who perished yesterday, at last, becausehe dared to speak the truth. Gesu!" he groaned. "O, miserable me!" Andhe sank into a chair.
But the next instant he was up again, and his long arms were wavingfiercely. "By the Eyes of God! They shall have cause to cage me. If Iam to be horned like a bull, I'll use those same horns. I'll gore theirvitals. O madam, since of your wantonness you inclined to harlotry, youshould have wedded another than Astorre Fifanti."
It was too much. I leapt to my feet.
"Messer Fifanti," I blazed at him. "I'll not remain to hear such wordsaddressed to this sweet lady."
"Ah, yes," he snarled, wheeling suddenly upon me as if he would strikeme. "I had forgot the champion, the preux-chevalier, the saint inembryo! You will not remain to hear the truth, sir, eh?" And he strode,mouthing, to the door, and flung it wide so that it crashed against thewall. "This is your remedy. Get you hence! Go! What passes here concernsyou not. Go!" he roared like a mad beast, his rage a thing terrific.
I looked at him and from him to Giuliana, and my eyes most clearlyinvited her to tell me how she would have me act.
"Indeed, you had best go, Agostino," she answered sadly. "I shall bearhis insults easier if there be no witness. Yes, go."
"Since it is your wish, Madonna," I bowed to her, and very erect, verydefiant of mien, I went slowly past the livid Fifanti, and so out. Iheard the door slammed after me, and in the little hall I came uponBusio, who was wringing his hand and looking very white. He ran to me.
"He will murder her, Messer Agostino," moaned the old man. "He can be adevil in his anger."
"He is a devil always, in anger and out of it," said I. "He needs anexorcist. It is a task that I should relish. I'd beat the devils out ofhim, Busio, and she would let me. Meanwhile, stay we here, and if sheneeds our help, it shall be hers."
I dropped on to the carved settle that stood there, old Busio standingat my elbow, more tranquil now that there was help at hand for Madonnain case of need. And through the door came the sound of his storming,and presently the crash of more broken glassware, as once more hethumped the table. For well-high half an hour his fury lasted, and itwas seldom that her voice was interposed. Once we heard her laugh, coldand cutting as a sword's edge, and I shivered at the sound, for it wasnot good to hear.
At last the door was opened and he came forth. His face was inflamed,his eyes wild and blood-injected. He paused for a moment on thethreshold, but I do not think that he noticed us at first. He lookedback at her over his shoulder, still sitting at table, the outline ofher white-gowned body sharply defined against the deep blue tapestry ofthe wall behind her.
"You are warned," said he. "Do you heed the warning!" And he cameforward.
Perceiving me at last where I sat, he bared his broken teeth in asnarling smile. But it was to Busio that he spoke. "Have my mule saddledfor me in an hour," he said, and passed on and up the stairs to makehis preparations. It seemed, therefore, that she had conquered hissuspicions.
I went in to offer her comfort, for she was weeping and all shaken bythat cruel encounter. But she waved me away.
"Not now, Agostino. Not now," she implored me. "Leave me to myself, myfriend."
I had not been her friend had I not obeyed her without question.