CHAPTER XVI.

  "Fly, fly, honest man! Here is a convent, there is a church; this way!this way!" was shouted to Renzo from every side. The advice was notnecessary; from the moment that he conceived the hope of extricatinghimself from the talons of the police, he had determined, if hesucceeded, to depart immediately, not only from the city, but thedukedom. "Because," thought he, "however they may have procured it, theyhave my name on their books; and with name and surname, they will takeme again if they choose to do so." As to an asylum, he was determinednot to have recourse to it, but in the last extremity. "Because,"thought he, "if I can be a bird of the woods, I will not be a bird ofthe cage." He then determined to seek his cousin Bartolo in theterritory of Bergamo, who had often urged him to establish himselfthere; but to find the road was the difficulty! In a part of the cityentirely unknown to him, he did not know which gate led to Bergamo; norif he had known it, would he have been able to find it. He thought amoment of asking directions from his liberators, but he had for sometime had strange suspicions with regard to the obliging sword-cutler,father of four children; so that he did not dare openly declare hisdesign, lest, amidst the crowd, there might be another of the samestamp. He determined therefore to hasten from this spot, and ask the waywhen he should arrive at a place where there would be nothing to fearfrom the curiosity or the character of others. He said to hisliberators, "Thanks, a thousand thanks! friends! may Heaven reward you!"and quitting the crowd through a passage made for him, he ran down lanesand narrow streets, without knowing whither.

  When he thought himself sufficiently removed from the scene of peril, heslackened his steps, and began to look around for some countenance whichmight inspire him with confidence enough to make his enquiries. But theenquiry would of itself be suspicious; time pressed; the police,recovering from their fright, would, without doubt, pursue theirfugitive; the noise of his escape might have reached even there; and inso great a multitude Renzo might pass many judgments in physiognomybefore he should find one which seemed favourable. After suffering manyto pass whose appearance was unpropitious, he at last summoned courageto address a man, who seemed in such haste, that Renzo deemed he wouldnot hesitate to answer his questions, in order to get rid of him. "Willyou be so good, sir, as to tell me through which gate to go to Bergamo?"

  "To Bergamo? through the eastern gate. Take this street to the left; youwill come to the square of the cathedral; then----"

  "That is enough, sir; I know the way after that; God reward you!" And hewent on hastily by the way pointed out to him, and arrived at the squareof the cathedral. He crossed it, passed by the remains of theextinguished bonfire, at which he had assisted the day before; thebake-house of the Crutches half demolished, and still guarded bysoldiers; and finally, reaching the convent of the capuchins, andlooking at the door of the church, he said to himself, sighing, "Thefriar gave me good advice yesterday, when he told me it would be bestfor me to wait patiently in the church." He stopped a moment, and seeingthat many persons guarded the gate through which he had to pass, he felta repugnance to confront them; and hesitated whether it would not be hiswisest plan to seek this asylum and deliver his letter. But he soonresumed courage, saying, "A bird of the woods as long as I can be. Whoknows me? Certainly the police cannot be waiting for me at all thegates." He looked around, therefore, and perceiving that no one appearedto notice him, and, whistling as he went, as if from carelessness, heapproached the gate. A company of custom-house officers, with areinforcement of Spanish soldiers, were stationed precisely at itsentrance, to keep out persons from abroad, who might be attracted, bythe noise of the tumult, to rush into the city; their attention wastherefore directed beyond the gate, and Renzo, taking advantage of this,contrived, with a quiet and demure look, to pass through, as if he weresome peaceful traveller; but his heart beat violently. He pursued a pathon the right, to avoid the high road, and for some distance did not dareto look behind him.

  On! on! he passed hamlets and villages, without asking the name of them;hoping that, whilst he was removing from Milan, he was approachingBergamo. He looked behind him from time to time, while pressing onwards,and rubbing first one wrist, then the other, which bore the red marksfrom the painful pressure of the manacles. His thoughts were a confusedmedley of repentance, anxiety, and resentment; and he wearily retracedthe circumstances of the preceding night, to ascertain what had plungedhim into these difficulties, and above all, how they came to know hisname. His suspicions rested on the cutler, whose curiosity he wellremembered, and he had also a confused recollection that after hisdeparture he had continued to talk, but with whom, his memory did notserve to inform him. The poor fellow was lost in these speculations; thepast was a chaos.

  He then endeavoured to form some plan for the future; but all otherconsiderations were soon swallowed up in the necessity which he wasunder of ascertaining the road; and to do this, he was obliged toaddress himself to some one. He was reluctant to name Bergamo, lest itmight excite suspicion: why it should, he knew not; but his mind was aprey to vague apprehensions of evil. However, he could not do otherwise;and, as at Milan, he accosted the first passenger whose appearancepromised favourably.

  "You are out of the road," replied the traveller; and directed him to apath by which he might regain the high road. Renzo thanked him, andfollowed the direction, with the intention, however, of keeping the highroad in sight, without exposing himself to hazard by travelling on it.The project was more easily conceived than executed; in pursuing azigzag course, from right to left, and left to right, and endeavouringstill to keep the general direction of the way, he had probablytraversed twelve miles, when he was only six miles from Milan; and as toBergamo, it was a chance if he was not farther from it, than when hebegan his journey. He reflected that this would never do, and he mustseek some other expedient; that which occurred to him, was to informhimself of the name of some village near the frontier, which he wouldreach by crossroads, and asking the way to that, be enabled to avoid themention of this dreaded Bergamo, which seemed to him so likely to causedistrust and suspicion.

  Whilst he was reflecting on the best method of pursuing this planwithout awakening conjectures, he saw a green branch hanging from thedoor of a lonely cottage, some distance beyond a village; and as he hadfor some time felt the need of refreshment, he thought he could now killtwo birds with one stone, and therefore entered the humble dwelling.There was no one within, but an old woman, with her distaff by herside, and spindle in her hand. He asked for a mouthful to eat; sheoffered him some _stracchino_[27], and some wine. He accepted the food,but refused the wine; of which he felt an intuitive horror since theevents of the preceding night. The old woman then began to assail herguest with enquiries of his trade, his journey, and of the news fromMilan, of the disturbances of which she had heard some rumours. To herquestion, "Where are you going?" he replied, "I am obliged to go to manyplaces, but if I find a moment of time, I should like to stop awhile atthe village on the road to Bergamo, near the frontier, but in theterritory of Milan--what do they call it?--There must be some villagethere," thought he.

  [27] A kind of soft cheese.

  "Gorgonzola, you mean," replied the old woman.

  "Gorgonzola," repeated Renzo, as if to fix it in his memory, "is it farfrom here?"

  "I don't know for certain; perhaps ten or twelve miles. If one of mychildren were here, they could tell you."

  "And do you think I could reach there by keeping on these pleasantpaths, without taking the high road, where there is so much dust? such aquantity of dust! It is so long since we have had any rain!"

  "I think you can. You can ask at the first village to theright,"--naming it.

  "Thank you," said Renzo, carrying off the remains of his bread, whichwas much coarser than what he had lately eaten from the foot of theCross of St. Dionysius; and paying the bill, departed. He took the roadto the right, and with the name of Gorgonzola in his mouth, from villageto village, he succeeded in reaching it an hour before sunset.

  He ha
d on his way intended to halt here for some more substantialrefreshment; he felt also the need of sleep; but rather than indulgehimself in this, he would have dropped dead on the road. His design wasto inform himself, at the inn, of the distance from the Adda, tocontrive to obtain some direction to the cross paths which led to it,and after having eaten, to go on his way. Born at the second source ofthis river, he had often heard that at a certain point, and for somedistance, its waters marked the confines of the Milanese and Venetianstates. He had no precise idea of the spot where this boundarycommenced, but, at this time, the principal matter was to reach theriver. Provided he could not accomplish it by daylight, he decided totravel as long as the darkness and his strength would permit, and thento wait the approach of day in a field, among brambles, or any where,where it should please God, an inn excepted. After advancing a few stepsin Gorgonzola, he saw a sign, and entering the house, asked the host fora mouthful to eat, and a half-pint of wine, his horror of which had beensubdued by his excessive fatigue. "I pray you to be in haste," added he,"for I must continue my journey immediately." And he said this, not onlybecause it was the truth, but from fear that the host, imagining he wasgoing to lodge there, might ask him his _name_, _surname_, and _whencehe came_, and _what was his business_!

  The host replied that he should have what he requested, and Renzo seatedhimself at the end of a bench near the door.

  There were in the room some idle people of the neighbourhood, who, afterhaving discussed the great news from Milan of the preceding day,wondered how affairs were going on; as the circumstances of therebellion had left their curiosity unsatisfied as to its termination; asedition neither suppressed nor successful; suspended rather thanterminated; an unfinished work; the end of an act rather than of adrama. One of them detached himself from the company, and, approachingthe new-comer, asked him, "If he came from Milan?"

  "I?" said Renzo, endeavouring to collect his thoughts for a reply.

  "You; if the enquiry be lawful."

  Renzo, contracting his mouth, made a sort of inarticulate sound, "Milan,from what I hear--from what they say--is not a place where one would gonow, unless necessity required it."

  "The tumult continues, then?" asked he, with eagerness.

  "One must have been on the spot, to know if it were so," said Renzo.

  "But do you not come from Milan?"

  "I come from Liscate," replied the youth, who, in the mean while hadprepared his answer. He had, indeed, come from that place, as he hadpassed through it. He had learned its name from a traveller who hadmentioned it, as the first village on his road to Gorgonzola.

  "Oh!" said his interrogator, "I wish you had come from Milan. Butpatience--and did you hear nothing from Milan at Liscate?"

  "It is very possible that others knew something," replied ourmountaineer; "but I have heard nothing."

  The inquisitive person rejoined his companions.

  "How far is it from this to the Adda?" said Renzo to the host, in a lowcareless tone, as he set before him something to eat.

  "To the Adda? to cross the river?"

  "That is--yes--to the Adda."

  "Would you cross the bridge of Cassano, or the ferry of Canonica?"

  "Where are they?--I ask simply from curiosity."

  "Ah! I name them because they are the places chosen by honest people,who are willing to give an account of themselves."

  "That is right. And how far are they?"

  "It must be about six miles."

  "Six miles! I did not know that," said he. "But," resuming an air ofindifference, "if one wished to shorten the distance, are there notother places, where one might cross?"

  "Certainly," replied the host, looking at him with an expression ofmalignant curiosity, which restrained Renzo from any further enquiry. Hedrew the dish towards him, and looking at the decanter the host had puton the table, said, "Is this wine pure?"

  "As gold. Ask all the inhabitants of the village, and hereabouts. Butyou can judge yourself." So saying, he joined the other customers.

  "Curse the hosts!" said Renzo, in his heart. "The more I know of them,the worse I find them."

  He began to eat, listening at the same time to the conversation, tolearn what was thought, in this place, of the events in which he hadacted so principal a part; and also to discover if there were not somehonest man among the company, of whom a poor youth might ask his waywithout fear of being compelled in return to tell his business.

  "But," said one, "to-morrow, at the latest, we shall know something fromMilan."

  "I am sorry I did not go to Milan this morning," said another.

  "If you will go to-morrow, I will go with you," said two or three.

  "That which I wish to know," replied the first speaker, "is, if thesegentlemen of Milan will think of poor people abroad, or if they willonly think of obtaining advantages for themselves. You know how theyare. The citizens are proud--they think only of themselves; thevillagers are treated as if they were not Christians."

  "We have mouths also, to eat, and to give our reasons," said another ina voice as timid as the remark was daring, "and since the thing hasbegun----" But he did not think to finish his sentence.

  "It is not only in Milan, that they conceal grain," said another, with amysterious air--when suddenly they heard approaching the trampling of ahorse. They ran to the door, and recognising the person who arrived,they went out to receive him. It was a merchant of Milan, who, goingfrequently to Bergamo on business, was accustomed to pass the night atthis inn, and as he had almost always found there the same company, hehad formed an acquaintance with all of them. They crowded aroundhim--one held the bridle, another the stirrup. "You are welcome."

  "And I am glad to find you all here."

  "Have you made a good journey?"

  "Very good. And you all, how do you do?"

  "Well, well. What news from Milan?"

  "Ah! there is great news truly," said the merchant, dismounting, andleaving his horse in the care of a boy. "But," continued he, enteringthe house with the company, "perhaps you know by this time better than Ido."

  "Truly, we know nothing."

  "Is it possible?--Well, you will hear fine news, or rather bad news. Eh!host! is my bed unoccupied? It is well. A glass of wine, and my usualdish. Quick, quick! because I must go to bed early, in order to riseearly, as I must be at Bergamo to dinner. And you," pursued he, seatinghimself at the table opposite to Renzo, who continued silent andattentive, "you know nothing of the mischief of yesterday!"

  "We heard about yesterday."

  "I knew that you must have heard it, being here always on guard to watchtravellers."

  "But to-day? What has been done to-day?"

  "Ah! to-day! Then you know nothing of to-day?"

  "Nothing at all. No one has passed."

  "Then let me wet my lips, and I will tell you what has happened to-day."He filled the glass, swallowed its contents, and continued: "To-day, mydear friends, little was wanting to make the tumult worse thanyesterday. And I can hardly believe that I am here to tell you, for Ihad nearly given up all thoughts of coming, that I might stay to guardmy shop."

  "What was the matter, then?" said one of his auditors.

  "What was the matter? I will tell you." And beginning to eat, he at thesame time pursued his relation; the company standing on his right andleft, listened with open mouths and ears. Renzo, without appearing tohear him, was, in fact, the most attentive of all; and ate his lastmouthful very, very slowly. "This morning, then, those vagabonds whomade such a hurly-burly yesterday, met at the points agreed on, andbegan to run from street to street, sending forth cries in order tocollect a crowd. You know it is with such people, as when one sweeps ahouse; the more you sweep, the more dirt you have. When they thoughtthere were people enough, they approached the house of thesuperintendant of provision, as if the atrocities they committedyesterday were not enough, to a gentleman of his character. Oh! therascals! And the abuse they bestowed on him! All invention andfalsehood: he is a worthy pun
ctual man; I can say it, for I know; and Ifurnish him cloth for his liveries. They hurried then towards hishouse--such a mob! such faces! They passed before my shop. Suchfaces--the Jews of the _Via Crucis_ are nothing to them. And theblasphemies they uttered! enough to make one stop one's ears, had it notbeen for fear of observation. Their intention was to plunder, but----"

  "But?" said they all.

  "But they found the street barricadoed, and a company of musketeers onguard. When they saw this ceremony--what would you have done?"

  "Turn back."

  "Certainly; and that is precisely what they did. But see if the devildid not carry them there. When they came on the Cordusio, they saw thebaker that they had wanted to plunder the day before; and what do youthink they were doing at this baker's? They were distributing bread topurchasers; the first gentlemen of the land were there, watching overits distribution. The mob, instigated by the devil, rushed upon themfuriously, and, in the twinkling of an eye, gentlemen, bakers,purchasers, bread, counters, benches, loaves, bags, flour, alltopsy-turvy."

  "And the musketeers?"

  "The musketeers had the vicar's house to guard. One can't sing and carrythe cross too. It was done in the twinkling of an eye, I say. Plunder,plunder; every thing was carried off. And then they proposed theamusement of yesterday, to burn what remained, in the square, and make abonfire. And immediately they began, the rascals! to drag every thingout of the house, when one among them----Guess what fine proposal hemade!"

  "What?"

  "What! to gather every thing in the shop in a heap, and set fire to itand the shop at the same time. No sooner said than done----"

  "Did they set fire to it?"

  "Wait a bit. An honest man in the neighbourhood had an inspiration fromHeaven. He ran into the house, ascended the stairs, took a crucifix, andhung it in front of a window; took from the head of the bed two waxcandles which had been blessed, lit them, and placed them right and leftof the crucifix. The crowd looked up; there is a little fear of God yet,in Milan, it must be confessed; the crowd retired--a few would have beensacrilegious enough to set fire to paradise itself; but seeing the restnot of their opinion, they were obliged to be quiet. Guess what happenedthen! All the lords of the cathedral in procession, with the crosselevated, and in pontifical robes; and my lord the arch-priest began topreach on one side, and my lord the _penitenziere_ on the other, andthen others here and there: '_But, honest people, what would you do? Isthis the example you set to your children? Return to your homes; youshall have bread at a fair price; you can see, yourselves, the rate isaffixed at every corner!_'"

  "Was it true?"

  "Can you doubt it? Do you think the lords of the cathedral would come intheir robes and declare falsehoods?"

  "And what did the people do?"

  "By little and little they dispersed; they ran to the corners of thestreets; the rate was there for those who knew how to read. Eight ouncesof bread for a penny!"

  "What good fortune."

  "The vine is fine, if its fruitfulness continues. Do you know how muchflour has been consumed since yesterday? As much as would supply thedukedom two months."

  "And have they made no good law for us country people?"

  "What they have done at Milan is for the city alone. I know not what totell you; for you, it must be as God shall direct. The tumult hasentirely ceased for the present; I have not told you all yet. Here isthe best----"

  "What! is there any thing more?"

  "Yesterday evening, or this morning, they have arrested some of theleaders, and they have been told that four will be hung. Hardly was thisknown, when every one betook himself home by the shortest road, so asnot to be the fifth. Milan, when I left it, resembled a convent ofmonks."

  "But will they really hang them?"

  "Undoubtedly, and very soon," replied the merchant.

  "And what will the people do?"

  "The people will go to see them," said the merchant. "They desired somuch to see a man hung, that the rascals were about to satisfy theircuriosity on the superintendent of provision. They will see instead,four rogues, accompanied by capuchins and friars of the _buonamorte_[28]; well, they have richly deserved it. It is a providence, yousee; it was a necessary thing. They had begun to enter the shops, andtake what they wanted, without putting their hand to their purse. Ifthey had been suffered to go on their own way, after bread, it wouldhave been wine, and then something else--and I assure you, as an honestman, keeping a shop, it was not a very agreeable idea."

  [28] Good death. A confraternity which exists under the same name in the south of France.

  "Assuredly not," said one of his auditors.

  "Assuredly not," repeated the others in chorus.

  "And," continued the merchant, "it had been in preparation a long while.There was a league, you know?"

  "A league!"

  "A league. Cabals instigated by the Navarrese, by that cardinal ofFrance, you know, who has a half-barbarous name, and who every dayoffers some new affront to the crown of Spain. But he aims chiefly atMilan, because he knows, the knave, that the strength of the king liesthere."

  "Indeed!"

  "Would you have a proof of it? Those who made the most noise werestrangers; people who were never seen before in Milan. I have forgotten,after all, to tell you something I heard; one of these had been caughtin an inn----"

  When this chord was touched, poor Renzo felt a cold shiver, and couldwith difficulty conceal his agitation. No one however perceived it, andthe orator proceeded:--

  "They do not yet know whence he came, by whom he was sent, nor what kindof man he was; but he was certainly one of the leaders. Yesterday, inthe height of the tumult, he played the devil; then, not content withthat, he began to exhort, and propose a fine thing truly! to murder allthe lords! Rascal! how would poor people live, if the lords were killed?He was taken, however, and they found on him an enormous packet ofletters, after which they were taking him to prison. But what do youthink? his companions, who were keeping watch round the inn, came ingreat force, and delivered him. The rogue!"

  "And what has become of him?"

  "It is not known. He has escaped, or is concealed in Milan. These peoplefind lodging and concealment any where, although they have neither housenor home of their own. The devil helps them; but they are sometimestaken in the snare, when they least expect it. When the pear is ripe, itmust fall. It is well known that these letters are in the hands ofgovernment, that they contain an account of the whole plot, that manypeople are implicated, that they have turned the city upside down, andwould have done much worse. Some say the bakers are rogues, and so sayI: but they ought to be hanged at least in a legal manner. Therecertainly is corn concealed; and the government ought to have spies andfind it out, and hang up all that keep it back in company with thebakers; and if they don't, all the city ought to remonstrate again andagain, but never allow the villainous practice of entering shops andwarehouses for plunder."

  The little that Renzo had eaten had become poison. It appeared like anage before he dared rise to quit. He felt nailed to the spot. To havemoved from the inn and the village, in the midst of the conversation,would have incurred suspicion. He determined to wait till the babblershould cease to speak of him and apply to some other subject.

  "And I," said one of the company, "who have some experience, know that atumult like this is no place for an honest man; therefore I have notsuffered my curiosity to conquer me, and have remained quietly at home."

  "And did I move?" said another.

  "And I," added a third, "if by any chance I had been at Milan, I wouldhave left my business unfinished, and returned home."

  At this moment the host approached the corner of the table, to see howthe stranger came on. Renzo gathered courage to speak, asked for hisbill, settled it, and rapidly crossed the threshold, trusting himself tothe guardian care of a kind Providence.

 
Alessandro Manzoni's Novels