I promessi sposi. English

by Alessandro Manzoni

  CHAPTER XXII.

  The bravo hastened back with the intelligence, that the CardinalFrederick Borromeo, Archbishop of Milan, had arrived the evening beforeat ***, and was expected to pass the day there. The report of hisarrival being spread abroad, the people had been seized with a desire tosee him; and the bells were rung in testimony of the happiness hispresence conferred, and also to give wider notice of his arrival. TheUnknown, left alone, continued to look down into the valley--"For a man!all crowding, all eager to see a man! And, nevertheless, each one ofthem has some demon that torments him; but none, none, a demon likemine; not one has passed such a night as I have. What is there in thisman to excite such joy? Some silver which he will scatter amongthem.--But _all_ are not actuated by such a motive. Well, a fewwords--Oh! if he had a few words of consolation for me! Yes--why shouldI not go to him? Why not? I _will_ go. What better can I do? I will goand speak to him; speak to him alone. What shall I say to him? Why, why,that which----I will hear what he will say to me."

  Having come to this vague determination, he threw over his shoulders amilitary cloak, put his pistol and dagger in his girdle, and took fromthe wall, where it hung, a carabine almost as famous as himself; thusaccoutred, he proceeded to Lucy's chamber, and leaving his carabine atthe door, he knocked and demanded admittance. The old woman hastened toopen the door; he entered, and looking around the room saw Lucy tranquiland silent in the corner of it.

  "Does she sleep?" asked he in a low voice. "Why did you suffer her tosleep there? Were these my orders?"

  "I did all I could; but she would neither eat nor come----"

  "Let her sleep then in peace; be careful not to trouble her, and whenshe wakes--Martha will be in the next chamber, and you must send her forwhatever she may want--when she wakes--tell her I----that the signor hasgone out for a little while, that he will return, and that--he will doall that she wishes."

  The old woman was astonished; "She must be some princess," thought she.

  The Unknown departed, took his carabine, gave orders to Martha to be inwaiting, and to a bravo to guard the chamber, and not suffer any one toapproach; then leaving the castle, with rapid steps he descended intothe valley. The bravoes whom he met ascending the hill, stoppedrespectfully at his approach, expecting and awaiting orders for someexpedition, and were astonished at his whole appearance, and the lookswith which he returned their salute.

  When he reached the public road, his presence made a very differentimpression; at his approach every one gave way, regarding him with looksof suspicion and wonder; each individual whom he met, cast at him atroubled look, bowed, and slackened his pace, in order to remain behind.He arrived at the village in the midst of the throng; his name quicklyspread from mouth to mouth, and a passage was instantly made for him topass. He enquired of one near him where the cardinal was. "In the houseof the curate," replied the person, respectfully pointing to it. He wentto it, entered a small court where there were several priests, wholooked at him with astonishment and suspicion. He saw, opposite to him,a door open, which led to a small hall, in which were also a greatcollection of priests. He left his carabine in a corner of the court,and entered the hall. He was received here, likewise, with doubtinglooks, and whispers; and his name was repeated with infinite awe. Heaccosted one of them, asking to be directed to the cardinal, as hewished to speak with him.

  "I am a stranger," replied the priest; and looking around upon theassembly, he called the cross-bearer, who at the time was saying to onenear him, "He here!--the famous----What can have brought him here? Makeroom!" At this call, which resounded in the general silence, he felthimself compelled to advance. He bowed before the Unknown, raised hiseyes in uneasy curiosity to his face, and understanding his request, hestammered out, "I do not know if his illustrious lordship--at thistime--is--can--however, I will go and see." And he went, against hiswill, to carry the message to the cardinal.

  At this period of our history we cannot do otherwise than rest a while,as the traveller worn out and weary with a long journey through asterile and savage land, refreshes himself for a season under the shadeof a tree, near a fountain of living water. We are about to introduce aperson whose name and memory cause an emotion of respect and sympathy;and this emotion is the more grateful from our previous contemplation ofwickedness and crime. We trust our readers will excuse our devoting afew moments to this great and good man.

  Frederick Borromeo, born in the year 1564, was one of those rarecharacters who have employed a fine genius, the resources of greatwealth, the advantages of privileged rank, and unceasing industry, forthe discovery and practice of that which was for the good of mankind.His life was like a stream, which, issuing limpid from its native rock,moves on undefiled over various lands; and, clear and limpid still,unites itself with the ocean. In the midst of the pomps and pleasures ofthe world, he applied himself from his earliest youth to study and obeythe precepts of religion; and this application produced in his heart itslegitimate fruits. He took truth for the rule of his thoughts andactions. He was taught by it not to look upon this life as a burthen tothe many, and a pleasure to the few; but as a scene of activity for all,and of which all must render their account; and the chief aim of histhoughts had ever been to render his life useful and holy.

  In 1580, he declared his resolution to devote himself to the ministry ofthe church, and he took the habit from the hands of his cousin Carlos,whom the public voice, even to the present day, has uniformlyacknowledged as a saint.[31] He entered a short time after into thecollege at Pavia, founded by that holy man, and which still bears thename of the family. There, whilst applying himself with assiduity to theoccupations prescribed by its rules, he voluntarily imposed on himself,in addition, the task of instructing the poor and ignorant in theprinciples of the Christian religion, and of visiting, consoling, andaiding the sick. He made use of the authority which was conceded to himby all, to induce his companions to second him in these deeds ofbenevolence; he steadily refused all worldly advantages, and led a lifeof self-denial and devotion to the cause of religion and virtue. Thecomplaints of his kindred, who thought the dignity of the house degradedby his plain and simple habits of life, were unavailing. He had anotherconflict to sustain with the ecclesiastical authorities, who wished toimpel him forward to distinction, and make him appear as the prince ofthe place. From all this, however, he carefully withdrew himself,although at the time but a youth.

  [31] Saint Charles Borromeo.

  It would not have been astonishing that, during the life of his cousinCarlos, Frederick should have imitated the example and followed thecounsel of so good a man; but it was surprising, that after his death noone could perceive that Frederick, although only twenty years of age,had lost his guardian and guide. The increasing splendour of histalents, his piety, the support of many powerful cardinals, theauthority of his family, the name itself, to which Carlos had caused tobe associated an idea of sanctity and sacerdotal superiority, allconcurred to point him out as a proper subject for ecclesiasticaldignity. But he, persuaded in the depth of his soul of that which notrue Christian can deny, that a man has no real superiority overothers, but in devotion to their good, dreaded distinction, and soughtto avoid it. He did not wish to escape from the obligation to serve hisneighbour; his life was but one scene of such services; but he did notesteem himself worthy of so high and responsible an office. Governed bysuch feelings, in 1595, when Clement VIII. offered him the archbishopricof Milan, he refused it without hesitation, but was finally obliged toyield to the express command of the pope.

  Such demonstrations are neither difficult nor rare; it is no greatereffort for hypocrisy to assume them, than for raillery to deride them.But are they not also the natural expression of wise and virtuousfeeling? The life is the test of sincerity; and though all thehypocrites in the world had assumed the expression of virtuoussentiments, yet the sentiments themselves will always command ourrespect and veneration, when their genuineness is evinced by a life ofdisinterestedness and self-sacrifice.

>   Frederick, as archbishop, was careful to reserve for himself only thatwhich was barely necessary, of his time and his wealth: he said, as allthe world says, that the ecclesiastical revenues are the patrimony ofthe poor; and we shall see how he put this maxim in practice. He causedan estimate to be made of the sum necessary for his expenses, and forthose employed in his service: finding it to be 600 sequins, he orderedthat amount to be taken from his patrimonial revenues for the supply ofhis table. He exercised such minute economy with regard to himself, thathe did not relinquish any article of dress until it was entirely wornout; but he joined to these habits of extreme simplicity, an exquisiteneatness, which was remarkable in this age of luxury and uncleanliness.He did more: in order that nothing should be lost from the fragments ofhis frugal table, he assigned them to a hospital for the poor, and aservant came every day to gather the remnants for that purpose. From theattention which he paid to such minutiae, we might form a contracted ideaof his mind, as being incapable of elevating itself to more extensivedesigns, were it not for the Ambrosian library, which remains a monumentof his liberality and magnificence. To furnish it with books andmanuscripts, besides those which he had already collected, he sent eightof the most skilful and learned men to make purchases of them in France,Spain, Germany, Italy, Flanders, Greece, Lebanon, and Jerusalem. Hesucceeded in collecting 30,000 printed volumes, and 14,000 manuscripts.He joined to the library a college of doctors: these doctors were ninein number, and supported by him as long as he lived; after his death,the ordinary revenues not being sufficient for the expense, they werereduced to two. Their duty consisted in the cultivation of the variousbranches of human knowledge, theology, history, belles lettres,ecclesiastical antiquities, and Oriental languages. Each one was obligedto publish some work on the subject to which he had particularly appliedhimself. He added to this a college, which he called _Trilingue_[32],for the study of the Greek, Latin, and Italian languages; and a collegeof pupils, who were instructed in these languages to become professorsin their turn. He united to these also a printing establishment for theOriental languages, for Hebrew, Chaldee, Arabic, Persian, and Armenian;a gallery of pictures, and another of statues; and a school for thethree principal arts of design. For the latter, he was at no loss tofind professors; but this was not the case with regard to the Easternlanguages, which were at this time but little cultivated in Europe. Inthe orders which he left for the government and regulations of thelibrary, we perceive a perpetual attention to utility, admirable initself, and much in advance of the ordinary ideas of his time. Heprescribed to the librarian the cultivation of a regular correspondencewith the learned men of Europe, to keep himself acquainted with thestate of science, and to procure every new and important work; he alsocharged him to point out to young students the books necessary for them,and, whether natives or foreigners, to afford them every possiblefacility in making use of those of the library. There is a history ofthe Ambrosian library by one Pierpaolo Bosca, who was librarian afterthe death of Frederick, in which all the excellent regulations areminutely detailed. Other libraries existed in Italy, but with littlebenefit to the studious: the books were carefully concealed from view intheir cases, and inaccessible to all, except on rare occasions, and withthe utmost difficulty. A book might then be seen, but not studied. It isuseless to enquire what were the fruits of these establishments ofBorromeo, but we must admire the generosity, judgment, and benevolenceof the man who could undertake and execute such things, in the midst ofthe ignorance, inertness, and general indifference which surrounded him.And in attention to public, he was not unmindful of private benevolence;indeed, his whole life was a perpetual almsgiving; on the occasion ofthe famine of which our history has spoken, we may have to relate morethan one instance of his wisdom and generosity.

  [32] Three languages.

  The inexhaustible charity of the man shone as much in his privatecharities, as in his splendid and magnificent public establishmentsalready recorded. On one occasion he saved a young lady from beingimmured in a convent against her wish. Her selfish father pretended hecould not marry her suitably without a portion of 4000 crowns. Thebishop advanced the money.

  Easy of access, he made it a principle to receive the poor who appliedto him, with kindness and affection. And on this point he was obliged todispute with the nobility, who wished to keep him to their standard ofaction. One day, whilst visiting among the mountaineers, and instructingsome poor children, Frederick bestowed caresses on them. A nobleman whowas present, warned him to be careful, as the children were dirty anddisgusting. The good bishop, not without indignation, replied, "Thesesouls are committed to my care; these children may never see me again;and are you not willing that I should embrace them?"

  He, however, seldom felt indignation or anger: he was admired for aplacability, a sweetness of manner nearly imperturbable; which, however,was not natural to him, but the effect of continual combat against aquick and hasty disposition. If ever he appeared harsh, it was to thosesubordinate pastors, whom he found guilty of avarice, or negligence, orany other vice opposed to the spirit of their high calling. With regardto his own interests or temporal glory, he exhibited no emotion, eitherof joy or regret; admirable indeed, if his spirit was in reality notaffected by these emotions; but more admirable still, if viewed as theresult of continued and unremitted effort to subdue them. And amidst allthe important cares with which he was occupied, he did not neglect thecultivation of his mind; he devoted himself to literature with so muchardour, that he became one of the most learned men of his time.

  We must not, however, conceal that he adopted with firm persuasion, andmaintained with constancy, certain opinions, which at this day wouldappear singular and ill-founded; these, however, were the errors of histime, and not his own.

  Our readers may perhaps enquire, if so learned and studious a man hasleft no monument of his labours and studies? His works, great and small,Latin and Italian, printed as well as manuscript, amount to more than ahundred; they are preserved with care in the library which he founded.They are composed of moral treatises, sermons, historical dissertations,sacred and profane antiquities, literature, the fine arts, &c.

  And what is the reason that they are so little known, so little soughtfor? We cannot enter into the causes of this phenomenon, as ourexplanation might not be satisfactory to our readers. So that we hadbetter resume the course of our history, in relating facts concerningthis extraordinary man.