CHAPTER XXVII.
We have had occasion to mention more than once a war which was thenfermenting, for the succession to the states of the Duke VincenzoGonzaga, the second of the name; we have said that, at the death of thisduke, his nearest heir, Carlos Gonzaga, chief of a younger branchtransplanted to France, where he possessed the duchies of Nevers andRhetel, had entered into possession of Mantua and Montferrat; theSpanish minister, who wished, at any price, to exclude from these twofiefs the new prince, and wanted some pretence to advance for hisexclusion, had declared his intention to support the claims upon Mantuaof another Gonzaga, Ferrante, Prince of Guastalla; and those uponMontferrat of Carlos Emanuel the First, Duke of Savoy, and MargheritaGonzaga, Duchess dowager of Lorraine. Don Gonzalo, who was descendedfrom the great captain whose name he bore, had already made war inFlanders; and as he was desirous beyond measure to direct one in Italy,he made the greatest efforts to promote it. By interpreting theintentions, and by going beyond the orders of the minister, he had, inthe mean time, concluded with the Duke of Savoy a treaty for theinvasion and division of Montferrat; and easily obtained theratification of it, by the count duke, by persuading him that theacquisition of Casale, which was the point the best defended, of theportion granted to the King of Spain, was extremely easy. However, hestill continued to protest, in the name of his sovereign, that hedesired to occupy the country only as a trust, until the decision of theemperor should be declared. But in the meantime the emperor, influencedby others as well as by motives of his own, had refused the investitureto the new duke, and ordered him to leave in sequestration, the stateswhich had been the subject of contention; promising, after he shouldhave heard both parties, to give it to the one whom he should deemjustly entitled to it. The Duke of Nevers would not submit to theseconditions.
The duke had high and powerful friends, being supported by the CardinalRichelieu, the senate of Venice, and the pope. But the first of these,absorbed at the time by the siege of Rochelle, embarrassed in a war withEngland, thwarted by the party of the queen mother, Mary de' Medici,who, for particular reasons, was hostile to the house of Nevers, couldonly hold out hopes and promises. The Venetians would not stir in thecontest, until a French army arrived in Italy; and while secretly aidingthe duke, they confined themselves, in their negotiations with the courtof Madrid, and the government of Milan, to protests, offers, or eventhreats, according to circumstances. Urban VIII. recommended the Dukeof Nevers to his friends, interceded for him with his adversaries, andmade propositions of peace; but he never afforded him any military aid.
The two powers, allied for offensive operations, could then securelybegin their enterprise; Carlos Emanuel entered Montferrat, and DonGonzalo gladly undertook the siege of Casale; but he did not meet withthe success he had anticipated. The court did not afford him all thesupplies he demanded; his ally, on the contrary, was too liberal in hisaid to the cause; for, after having taken his own portion, he also tookthat which had been assigned to the King of Spain. Don Gonzalo,inexpressibly enraged, but fearing, if he made the least complaint, thatCarlos, as active in intrigue, and as brave in arms, as he was fickle indisposition, and false to his promises, would throw himself on the sideof France; was constrained to shut his eyes, to champ the bit, and tomaintain a satisfied appearance. Whether from the firm resistance of thebesieged, or from the small number of troops employed against them, or,according to some statements, from the numerous mistakes of Don Gonzalo,the siege, although protracted, was finally unsuccessful. It was at thisvery period that the sedition of Milan obliged Don Gonzalo to go thitherin person.
In the relation that was there made to him, the flight of Renzo wasmentioned, and the facts, real or supposed, which had caused his arrest;he was also informed that this man had taken refuge in the territory ofBergamo. This latter circumstance attracted the attention of DonGonzalo; he knew that the Venetians had taken an interest in theinsurrection of Milan, and that, in the beginning of it, they hadimagined that, on that account alone, he would be obliged to raise thesiege of Casale, and thus incur a heavy disappointment to his hopes. Inaddition to this, immediately after this event, the news was received,so much desired by the senate, and so much dreaded by Gonzalo, of thesurrender of Rochelle. Stung to the quick, as a man and a politician,and vexed at his loss of reputation, he sought out every occasion toconvince the Venetians, that he had lost none of his former boldnessand determination; he therefore ventured to make loud complaints of theconduct of the senate. The resident of Venice, having come to pay hisrespects to him, and endeavouring to read in his features and deportmentwhat was passing in his mind, Don Gonzalo spoke lightly of the tumult,as a thing already quieted, making use, however, of the reception ofRenzo, in the Bergamascan territory, as a pretext for complaint againstthe Venetians. The result is known to our readers. When he had answeredhis own purposes, with the affair, it was entirely forgotten by him.
But Renzo, who was far from suspecting the little importance that was inreality attached to him, had, for a long time, no other thought but tokeep himself concealed. It may well be supposed that he desired ardentlyto send intelligence to Lucy and her mother, and to hear from them inreturn. But to this, there were two very great obstacles. It wasnecessary to confide in an amanuensis, as he himself was unable towrite,--an accomplishment in those days not very usual in his class; andhow could he venture to do this where all were strangers to him? Theother difficulty was to find a trusty messenger, to take charge of theletter. He finally succeeded in overcoming these difficulties, and foundone of his companions who could write for him. But not knowing whetherLucy and Agnes were still at Monza, he thought it best to enclose theletter under cover to Father Christopher, with a few lines in additionto him. The writer engaged to send it, and gave it to a man who was topass near Pescarenico, and who left it in an inn on the route, in aneighbouring place to the convent, and with many injunctions for itssafe delivery. As the cover was directed to a capuchin, it was carriedto Pescarenico, but it was never known what farther became of it. Renzo,not receiving an answer, caused another letter to be written, andenclosed it to one of his relations at Lecco. This time the letterreached its destination. Agnes requested her cousin Alessio to read itfor her; and to write an answer, which was sent to Antonio Rivolta, atthe place of his abode; all this, however, was not done so quickly aswe tell it. Renzo received the answer, and wrote a reply; in short,there was a correspondence, however irregular, established between them.But the manner of carrying on such a correspondence, which is the same,perhaps, at this day, we will explain. The absent party who can't write,selects one who possesses the art, from amongst his own class, in whichhe can more securely trust. To him he explains with more or lessclearness his subject and his thoughts. The man of letters comprehendspart, guesses the rest, gives an opinion, proposes an alteration, andfinishes with "leave it to me." Then begins the translation of thespoken into the written thoughts.--The writer corrects, improves,overcharges, diminishes, or even omits, according to his opinion of thegraces of style. The finished letter is, accordingly, often wide of themark aimed at. But when, at length, it reaches the hands of acorrespondent, equally deficient in the art of reading running hand, heis under the like necessity of finding a learned clerk of the samecalibre to interpret the hieroglyphics. Hereupon arise questions uponthe various meanings. Towards their elucidation, the one suppliesphilological notices upon the text; the other, commentaries upon thehidden matter; so that, after mature discussion, they may come to thesame understanding between themselves, however remote that may be fromthe intention of the originator of the perplexity.
This was precisely the condition of our two correspondents.
The first letter from Renzo contained many details; he informed Agnes ofthe circumstance of his flight, his subsequent adventures, and hisactual situation. These events, however, were rather hinted at, thanclearly explained, so that Agnes and her interpreter were far fromdrawing any definite conclusions from the relation of them. He spoke ofsecret information, of a chan
ge of name; that he was in safety, but thathe was obliged to keep himself concealed; further, the letter containedpressing and passionate enquiries with regard to Lucy, with some obscurereferences to the reports which had reached him, mingled with vagueexpressions of hope, and plans for the future, and affectionateexhortations to constancy and patience.
Some time after the receipt of this letter, Agnes sent Renzo an answer,with the fifty crowns that had been assigned him by Lucy. At the sightof so much gold, he did not know what to think; and, with his mindagitated by reflections by no means agreeable, he went in search of hisamanuensis, requesting him to interpret the letter, and afford him aclue to the developement of the mystery.
The amanuensis of Agnes, after some complaints on the want of clearnessin Renzo's epistle, described the wonderful history of _this person_ (sohe called the Unknown), and thus accounted for the fifty crowns; then hementioned the vow, but only periphrastically; adding more explicitly theadvice, to set his heart at rest, and not to think of Lucy any more.
Renzo was very near quarrelling with his interpreter; he trembled; hewas enraged with what he had understood, and with what he had notunderstood. He made him read three or four times this melancholyepistle, sometimes understanding it better, sometimes finding obscureand inexplicable that which at first had appeared clear. In the deliriumof his passion, he desired his amanuensis to write an answerimmediately. After the strongest expressions of pity and horror at themisfortunes of Lucy; "Write," pursued he, "that I do not wish to set myheart at rest, and that I never will; that this is not advice to giveme; and that, moreover, I will never touch the money, but will keep itin trust, as the dowry of the young girl; that Lucy belongs to me, andthat I will not abide by her vow; that I have always heard that theVirgin interests herself in our affairs, for the purpose of aiding theafflicted, and obtaining favour for them; but that I have never heardthat she will protect those who do evil, and fail to perform theirpromises; say that, as such cannot be the case, her vow is good fornothing; that with this money we can establish ourselves here, and that,if our affairs are now a little perplexed, it is a storm which will soonpass away."
Agnes received this letter, sent an answer, and the correspondencecontinued for some time, as we have related. When her mother informedLucy that Renzo was well and in safety, she derived great relief fromthe intelligence, desiring but one thing more, which was, that he shouldforget, or rather, that he should endeavour to forget her. On her partshe made a similar resolution, with respect to him, a hundred times aday; and employing every means of which she was mistress to accomplishso desirable an end, she applied herself incessantly to labour,endeavouring to give to it all the powers of her soul. When the image ofRenzo occurred to her mind, she tried to banish it by prayer; but, whilethinking of her mother, (and how could she avoid thinking of hermother?) the image of Renzo intruded himself as a third into the placeso often occupied by the real Renzo. However, if she did not succeed inforgetting, she contrived at least to think less frequently of him; andin this she would have been more successful, had she been left toprosecute the work alone; but, alas! Donna Prassede, who, on her part,was determined to drive the poor youth from her mind, thought there wasno better expedient for the purpose than to talk of him incessantly;"Well," said she, "do you still think of him?"
"I think of no one," said Lucy.
Donna Prassede, who was not a woman to be satisfied with such an answer,replied, "that she wanted actions, not words." Discussing at length, thetendencies of young girls, she said, "When they have once given theirheart to a libertine, it is impossible to withdraw their affections. Iftheir love for an honest man is, by whatever means, unfortunate, theyare soon comforted, but love for a libertine is an incurable wound." Andthen beginning the panegyric of poor Renzo, of this rascal, who wishedto deluge Milan in blood, and reduce it to ashes, she concluded, byinsisting that Lucy should confess the crimes of which he had beenguilty in his own country.
Lucy, with a voice trembling from shame, grief, and from as muchindignation as her gentle disposition and humble station permitted her,declared and protested, that in her village this poor youth had alwaysacted peaceably and honourably, and had obtained a good reputation."She wished," she said, "that one of his countrymen were present to beartestimony to the truth." Even respecting the events at Milan, of which,'twas true, she knew not the details, she defended him, and solely onaccount of the acquaintance she had had with his habits from infancy.She defended him (or rather, she _meant_ to defend him) from the pureduty of charity, from love of truth, and as being her neighbour. ButDonna Prassede deduced, from this defence, new arguments to convinceLucy, that this man still held a place in her heart, of which he was notworthy. At the degrading portrait which the old lady drew of him, thehabitual feelings of her heart, with regard to him, and her knowledgeand estimate of his character, revived with double force anddistinctness. Her recollections, which she had had so much difficulty insubduing, returned vividly to her imagination; in proportion to theaversion and contempt manifested by Donna Prassede towards theunfortunate youth, just in such proportion did she recall her formermotives for esteem and sympathy; this blind and violent hatred excitedin her heart stronger pity and tenderness. Such conversations could notbe much prolonged without resolving Lucy's words into tears.
If Donna Prassede had been led to this course of conduct by hatredtowards Lucy, the tears of the latter, which flowed freely during theseexaminations, might have subdued her to silence, but as she was moved tospeak by the desire of doing good, she never suffered herself to besoftened by them; for groans and supplications may arrest the arm of anenemy, but not the friendly lance of the surgeon. After havingreproached her for her wickedness, she passed to exhortations andadvice, mingling also a few praises, to temper the bitter with thesweet, and obtain more certainly the effect she desired. These disputes,which had nearly the same beginning, middle, and end, did not, however,leave any trace of resentment against her severe lecturer in the gentlebosom of Lucy; she was, in other respects, treated with much kindness bythe lady, and she believed her, even in this matter, to be guided bygood, though mistaken intentions. There did follow them, however, suchagitation, such uneasy awakening of slumbering thoughts, that much timeand effort were requisite to restore her to any degree of tranquillity.
It was a happiness for Lucy that Donna Prassede's sphere of usefulnesswas somewhat extensive; consequently these tiresome conversations couldnot be so frequently repeated. Besides her immediate household,composed, according to her opinion, of persons that had more or lessneed of correction and regulation; and besides all the other occasionswhich presented themselves for her rendering the same office from purebenevolence to persons who required not the duty at her hands; she hadfive daughters, neither of whom lived at home, but they gave her themore trouble from that very cause. Three were nuns; and two weremarried. Donna Prassede consequently had three monasteries and twofamilies to govern; a vast and complicated machinery, and the moretroublesome, as two husbands, supported by a numerous kindred, threeabbesses, defended by other dignitaries, and a great number of nuns,would not accept her superintendence. There was a continual warfare,polite indeed, but active and vigilant; a perpetual attention to avoidher solicitude, to close up the avenues to her advice, to elude herenquiries, and to keep her in as much ignorance as possible of theiraffairs. In her own family, however, her zeal could display itselffreely; all were governed by her authority, and submissive to her, inevery respect, with the exception of Don Ferrante; with him things wereconducted in a peculiar manner.
A man of study, he neither loved to obey nor command; he was perfectlywilling that his wife should be mistress in all things pertaining tohousehold affairs, but not that he should be her slave; and if, at herrequest, he lent upon occasion the services of his pen, it was becausehe had a particular taste for such employments. And, moreover, he couldrefuse to do it, when not convinced of the propriety of her demand."Well," he would say, "do it yourself, since the matter appears so plainto y
ou." Donna Prassede, after vainly trying to induce him tosubmission, took refuge in grumbling against him as an original, a manwho would have his own way, a mere scholar; which latter title,however, she never gave him without a degree of complacency, minglingitself with her displeasure.
Don Ferrante passed much time in his study, where he had a considerablecollection of choice books; he had selected the most famous works onmany different subjects, in each of which he was more or less versed. Inastrology he was justly considered more than an amateur, because he notonly possessed the general notions, and the common vocabulary ofinfluences, aspects, and conjunctions, but he could speak to the point,and, like a professor, of the twelve houses of heaven, of the great andlesser circles, of degrees, lucid and obscure, of exaltations, passages,and revolutions; in short, of the principles the most certain and mostrecondite of the science. For more than twenty years, in long andfrequent disputes, he had sustained the pre-eminence of _Cardan_ againstanother learned man attached to the system of _Alcabizio_, "from pureobstinacy," said Don Ferrante, who, in acknowledging voluntarily thesuperiority of the ancients, could not, however, endure the prejudicewhich would never accord to the moderns, even that which they evidentlydeserved. He had also a more than ordinary acquaintance with the historyof the science; he could cite the most celebrated predictions which hadbeen verified, and reason very skilfully and learnedly on othercelebrated predictions which had _not_ been verified, demonstrating thatthe failure was not owing to any deficiency in the science, but to theignorance which could not apply its principles.
He had acquired as much ancient philosophy as would have contented a manof ordinary ambition, but he was continually adding to his stock fromthe study of Diogenes Laertius; however, as we cannot adhere to everysystem, and as, from among them all, a choice is necessary to him whodesires the reputation of a philosopher, Don Ferrante made choice ofAristotle, who, as he was accustomed to say, was neither ancient normodern. He possessed many works of the wisest and most subtle disciplesof the school of Aristotle among the moderns; as to those of hisopponents, he would not read them, "because it would be a waste oftime," he said, "nor buy them, because it would be a waste of money."In the judgment of the learned, therefore, Don Ferrante passed for anaccomplished peripatetic, although this was not the judgment he passedon himself, for, more than once, he was heard to declare, with singularmodesty, that the essence, the universals, the soul of the world, andthe nature of things, were not matters so clear as people thought.
As to natural philosophy, he had made it more a pastime than a study: hehad rather read than digested the works of Aristotle himself on thesubject. Nevertheless, with a slight acquaintance with that author, andthe knowledge he had incidentally gathered from other treatises ofgeneral philosophy, he could, when necessary, entertain an assembly oflearned persons in reasoning most acutely on the wonderful virtues andsingular characteristics of many plants. He could describe exactly theforms and habits of the syrens, and the phoenix, the only one of itskind; he could explain how it was that the salamander lived in fire, howdrops of dew became pearls in the shell, how the chameleon lived on air,and a thousand other secrets of the same nature.
He was, however, much more addicted to the study of magic and sorcery,as this was a science more in vogue, and withal more serviceable, andthe facts of which were of pre-eminent importance. It is not necessaryto add that, in devotion to such a science, he had no other purpose thanto obtain an accurate knowledge of the worst artifices of the sorcerers,in order to guard himself against them. Guided by the great _MartinoDelrio_, he was able to discourse, _ex professo_, on the enchantment oflove, the enchantment of sleep, the enchantment of hatred, and on theinnumerable species of these three chief enchantments, which, alas! arewitnessed every day in their destructive and baneful effects.
His knowledge of history, especially universal history, was not lessvast and solid. "But," said he often, "what is history without politics?a guide who conducts without teaching any one the way; as politicswithout history, is a man without a guide to conduct him." Here was thena small place on his shelf assigned to statistics; there, among othersof the second rank, were seen Bodin, Cavalcanti, Sansovino, Paruta, andBoccalini. There were, however, two books that Don Ferrante preferred toall others on the subject; two, which he called, for a long time, thefirst of the kind, without deciding to which of the two this rankexclusively belonged. One was _Il Principe_ and the _Discorsi_ of thecelebrated secretary of Florence. "A rascal, 'tis true," said he, "butprofound;" the other, _La Ragion di Stato_, of the not less celebratedGiovanni Botero. "An honest man, 'tis true," said he, "but cunning."But, a short time before the period to which our history belongs, a workappeared which had terminated the question of pre-eminence; a work inwhich was comprised and condensed a relation of every vice, in order toenable men to avoid it, and every virtue, in order to enable men topractise it,--a book of few leaves, indeed, but all of gold; in a word,the _Statista Regnante_ of _Don Valeriano Castiglione_; of thecelebrated man upon whom the most learned men emulated each other inbestowing praises, and for whose notice the greatest personagescontended; whom Pope Urban VIII. honoured with a magnificent eulogium;whom Cardinal Borghese and the Viceroy of Naples, Don Pietro de Toledo,solicited to write, the first, the life of Pope Paul V., the second, thewars of the Catholic king in Italy, and both in vain; whom Louis XIII.,King of France, with the advice of Cardinal Richelieu, named hishistoriographer; upon whom the Duke Carlos Emanuel, of Savoy, conferredthe same office; and in praise of whom the Duchess Christina, daughterto his most Christian majesty, Henry IV., added in a diploma, after manyother titles, "the renown he had obtained in Italy as the first writerof the age."
But if Don Ferrante might be said to be well versed in all the abovesciences, there was one in which he deserved, and really obtained, thetitle of professor, the science of chivalry. He not only spoke of it asa master, but was often requested to interfere in nice points of honour,and give his decision. He had in his library, and, we may add, in hishead also, the works of the most esteemed writers on this subject,particularly Torquato Tasso, whom he had always ready; and he could, ifrequired, cite from memory all the passages of the Jerusalem Delivered,which might be brought forward as authority in these matters. We mightspeak more at large of this learned man, but we feel it to be time toresume the thread of our history.
Nothing of importance occurred to any of the personages of our storybefore the following autumn, when Agnes and Lucy expected to meet again;but a great public event disappointed this hope. Other events followed,which produced no material change in their destiny. Then occurred newmisfortunes, powerful and overwhelming, coming upon them like ahurricane, which impetuously tears up and scatters every object in itsway, sweeping the land, and bearing off, with its irresistible andmighty power, every vestige of peace and prosperity. That the particularfacts which remain to be related may not appear obscure, we must recurfor awhile to the farther recital of general facts.
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