CHAPTER XXXIII.
Renzo had heard vague mention made of severe orders, forbidding theentrance of strangers into Milan, without a certificate of health; butthese were easily evaded, for Milan had reached a point when suchprohibition was useless, even if it could have been put into execution.Whoever ventured there, might rather appear careless of his own life,than dangerous to that of others.
With this conviction, Renzo's design was to attempt a passage at thefirst gate, and in case of difficulty to wander on the outside of thewalls until he should find one easy of access. It would be difficult tosay how many gates he thought Milan had.
When he arrived before the ramparts, he looked around him; there was noindication of living being, except on a point of the platform, a thickcloud of dense smoke arising; this was occasioned by clothing, beds, andinfected furniture, which were committed to the flames; every wherealong the ramparts appeared the traces of these melancholyconflagrations.
The weather was close, the air heavy, the sky covered by a thick cloud,or fog, which excluded the sun, without promising rain. The surroundingcountry was neglected and sterile; all verdure extinct, and not a dropof dew on the dry and withering leaves. The depth, solitude, andsilence, so near a large city, increased the gloom of Renzo's thoughts;he proceeded, without being aware of it, to the gate _Nuova_, which hadbeen hid from his view by a bastion, behind which it was then concealed.A noise of bells, sounding at intervals, mingled with the voices of men,saluted his ear; turning an angle of the bastion, he saw before the gatea sentry-box, and a sentinel leaning on his musket, with a wearied andcareless air. Exactly before the opening was a sad obstacle, ahand-barrow, upon which two _monatti_ were extending an unfortunate man,to carry him off; it was the chief of the toll-gatherers, who had justbeen attacked by the pestilence. Renzo awaited the departure of theconvoy, and no one appearing to close the gate, he passed forwardsquickly; the sentinel cried out "Holla!" Renzo stopping, showed him ahalf ducat, which he drew from his pocket; whether he had had thepestilence, or that he feared it less than he loved ducats, he signed toRenzo to throw it to him; seeing it at his feet, he cried, "Go in,quickly," a permission of which Renzo readily availed himself. He hadhardly advanced forty paces when a toll-collector called to him to stop.He pretended not to hear, and passed on. The call was repeated, but in atone more of anger than of resolution to be obeyed--and this beingequally unheeded, the collector shrugged his shoulders and turned backto his room.
Renzo proceeded through the long street opposite the gate which leads tothe canal _Naviglio_, and had advanced some distance into the citywithout encountering a single individual; at last he saw a man comingtowards him, from whom he hoped he might gain some information; he movedtowards him, but the man showed signs of alarm at his approach. Renzo,when he was at a little distance, took off his hat, like a politemountaineer as he was, but the man drew back, and raising a knotty club,armed with a spike, he cried, "Off! off! off!" "Oh! oh!" cried Renzo; heput on his hat, and having no desire for a greeting of this fashion, heturned his back on the discourteous passenger and went on his way.
The citizen retired in an opposite direction, shuddering and lookingback in alarm: when he reached home he related how a poisoner had methim with humble and polite manners, but with the air of an infamousimpostor, and with a phial of poison or the box of powder (he did notknow exactly which) in the lining of his hat, to poison him, if he hadnot kept him at a distance. "It was unlucky," said he, "that we were inso private a street; if it had been in the midst of Milan, I would havecalled the people, and he would have been seized: but alone, it wasenough to have saved myself--but who knows what destruction he may notalready have effected in the city:"--and years after, when thepoisoners were talked of, the poor man maintained the truth of the fact,as "he had had ocular proof."
Renzo was far from suspecting the danger he had escaped; and, reflectingon this reception, he was more angry than fearful. "This is a badbeginning," thought he; "my star always seems unpropitious when I enterMilan. To enter is easy enough, but, once here, misfortunes thicken.However--by the help of God--if I find--if I succeed in finding--allwill be well."
The streets were silent and deserted; no human being could he see; asingle disfigured corpse met his eye in the channel between the streetand the houses. Suddenly he heard a cry, which appeared addressed tohim; and he perceived, not far off, on the balcony of a house, a woman,surrounded by a group of children, making a sign to him to approach. Ashe did so, "O good young man!" said she, "do me the kindness to go tothe commissary, and tell him that we are forgotten here. They havenailed up the house as suspected, because my poor husband is dead; andsince yesterday morning no one has brought us any thing to eat, andthese poor innocents are dying of hunger."
"Of hunger!" cried Renzo. "Here, here," said he, drawing the two loavesfrom his pocket. "Lower something in which I may put them."
"God reward you! wait a moment," said the woman, as she went in searchof a basket and cord to suspend it.
"As to the commissary, my good woman," said he, putting the loaves inthe basket, "I cannot serve you, because, to tell truth, I am a strangerin Milan, and know nothing of the place. However, if I meet any one alittle humane and tractable, to whom I can speak, I will tell him."
The woman begged him to do so, and gave him the name of the street inwhich she lived.
"You can also render me a service, without its costing you any thing,"said Renzo. "Can you tell me where there is a nobleman's house in Milan,named ***?"
"I know there is a house of that name, but I do not know where it is.Further on in the city you will probably find some one to direct you.And remember to speak of us."
"Do not doubt me," said Renzo, as he passed on.
As he advanced, he heard increasing a sound that had already attractedhis attention, whilst stopping to converse with the poor woman; a soundof wheels and horses' feet, with the noise of little bells, andoccasionally the cracking of whips and loud cries.
As he reached the square of San Marco, the first objects he saw were twobeams erected, with a cord and pulleys. He recognised the horribleinstrument of torture! These were placed on all the squares and wideststreets, so that the deputies of each quarter of the city, furnishedwith the most arbitrary power, could subject to them whoever quitted acondemned house, or neglected the ordinances, or by any other actappeared to merit the punishment; it was one of those extreme andinefficacious remedies, which, at this epoch, were so absurdlyauthorised. Now, whilst Renzo was gazing at this machine, he heard thesounds increasing, and beheld a man appear, ringing a little bell; itwas an _apparitore_, and behind him came two horses, who advanced withdifficulty, dragging a car loaded with dead; after this car cameanother, and another, and another; _monatti_ walked by the side of thehorses, urging them on with their whips and with oaths. The bodies werefor the most part naked; some were half covered with rags, and heapedone upon another; at each jolt of the wretched vehicles, heads were seenhanging over, the long tresses of women were displayed, arms wereloosened and striking against the wheels, thrilling the soul of thespectator with indescribable horror!
The youth stopped at a corner of the square to pray for the unknowndead. A frightful thought passed over his mind. "There, perhaps, there,with them--O God! avert this misfortune! let me not think of it!"
The funeral convoy having passed on, he crossed the square, and reachedthe Borgo Nuovo by the bridge Marcellino. He perceived a priest standingbefore a half-open door, in an attitude of attention, as if he wereconfessing some one. "Here," said he, "is my man. If a priest, and inthe discharge of his duty, has no benevolence, there is none left in theworld who has." When he was at a few paces distance from him, he tookoff his hat, and made a sign that he wished to speak with him, keeping,however, at a discreet distance, so as not to alarm the good manunnecessarily. Renzo having made his request, was directed to the hotel."May God watch over you now and for ever!" said Renzo, "and," added he,"I would ask another favour." And he mentioned the poor
forgotten woman.The worthy man thanked him for affording him the opportunity to bestowhelp where it was so greatly needed, and bade him farewell.
Renzo found it difficult enough to recollect the various turningspointed out by the priest, disturbed as his mind was by apprehensionsfor the issue of his enquiries. An end was about to be put to his doubtsand fears; he was to be told, "she is living," or, "she is dead!" Thisidea took such powerful possession of his mind, that at this moment, hewould rather have remained in his former ignorance, and have been at thecommencement of the journey, to the end of which he so nearlyapproached. He gathered courage, however. "Ah!" cried he, "if I play thechild now, how will it end!" Plunging therefore into the heart of thecity, he soon reached one of its most desolated quarters, that which iscalled the _Carrobio di Porta Nuova_. The fury of the contagion here,and the infection from the scattered bodies, had been so great, thatthose who had survived had been obliged to fly: so that, whilst thepassenger was struck with the aspect of solitude and death, his senseswere painfully affected by the traces of recent life. Renzo hastened on,hoping to find an improvement in the scene, before he should arrive atthe end of his journey. In fact, he soon reached what might still becalled the city of the living, but, alas! what living! Every door wasclosed from distrust and terror, except such as had been left open bythe flight of the inhabitants, or by the _monatti_; some were nailed onthe outside, because there were within people dead, or dying of thepestilence; others were marked with a cross, for the purpose ofinforming the _monatti_ that their services were required, and much ofthis was done more by chance than otherwise; as a commissary of healthhappened to be in one spot rather than in another, and chose to enforcethe regulations. On every side were seen infected rags and bandages,clothes and sheets, which had been thrown from the windows; dead bodieswhich had been left in the streets until a car should pass to take themup, or which had fallen from the cars themselves, or been thrown fromthe houses; so much bad the long duration and the violence of the pestbrutalised men's minds, and subdued every spark of human feeling orsympathy. The customary sounds of human occupation or pleasure hadceased; and this silence of death was interrupted only by the funeralcars, the lamentations of the sick, the shrieks of the frantic, or thevociferations of the _monatti_.
At the break of day, at noon, and at night, a bell of the cathedral gavethe signal for reciting certain prayers, which had been ordered by thearchbishop, and this was followed by the bells of the other churches.Then persons were seen at the windows, and a confused blending of voicesand groans was heard, which inspired a sorrow, not however unmixed withconsolation. It is probable that at this time not less than two thirdsof the inhabitants had died, and of the remainder many were sick or hadleft the city. Every one you met exhibited signs of the dreadfulcalamity. The usual dress was changed of every order of persons. Thecloak of the gentleman, the robe of the priest, the cowl of the monk, inshort, every loose appendage of dress that might occasion contact, wascarefully dismissed; every thing was as close on the person as possible.Men's beards and hair were alike neglected, from fear of treachery onthe part of the barbers. Every man walked with a stick, or even apistol, to prevent the approach of others. Equal care was shown inkeeping the middle of the street to avoid what might be thrown fromwindows, and in avoiding the noxious matters in the road. But if theaspect of the uninfected was appalling, how shall we describe thecondition of the wretched sick in the street, tottering or falling torise no more--beggars, children, women.
Renzo had travelled far on his way, through the midst of thisdesolation, when he heard a confused noise, in which was distinguishablethe horrible and accustomed tinkling of bells.
At the entrance of one of the most spacious streets, he perceived fourcars standing; _monatti_ were seen entering houses, coming forth withburthens on their shoulders, and laying them on the cars; some wereclothed in their red dress, others without any distinctive mark, but thegreater number with a mark, more revolting still than their customarydress,--plumes of various colours, which they wore with an air oftriumph in the midst of the public mourning, and whilst people from thedifferent windows around were calling to them to remove the dead. Renzoavoided, as much as possible, the view of the horrid spectacle; but hisattention was soon attracted by an object of singular interest; afemale, whose aspect won the regards of every beholder, came out of oneof the houses, and approached the cars. In her features was seen beauty,veiled and clouded, but not destroyed, by the mortal debility whichseemed to oppress her; the soft and majestic beauty which shines in theLombard blood. Her step was feeble, but decided; she wept not, althoughthere were traces of tears on her countenance. There was a tranquillityand profundity in her grief, which absorbed all her powers. But it wasnot _her_ appearance alone which excited compassion in hearts nearlyclosed to every human feeling; she held in her arms a young girl aboutnine years of age, dead, but dressed with careful precision; her hairdivided smoothly on her pale forehead, and clothed in a robe of thepurest white. She was not lying, but was seated, on the arm of the lady,her head leaning on her shoulder; you would have thought she breathed,if a little white hand had not hung down with inanimate weight, and herhead reposed on the shoulder of her mother, with an abandonment moredecided than that of sleep. Of her mother! it was indeed her mother! Ifthe resemblance of their features had not told it, you would have knownit by the expression of that fair and lovely countenance!
A hideous _monatto_ approached the lady, and with unusual respectoffered to relieve her of her burthen. "No," said she, with anappearance neither of anger nor disgust, "do not touch her yet; it is Iwho must place her on the car. Take this," and she dropped a purse intothe hands of the _monatto_; "promise me not to touch a hair of her head,nor to let others do it, and bury her thus."
The _monatto_ placed his hand on his heart, and respectfully prepared aplace on the car for the infant dead. The lady, after having kissed herforehead, placed her on it, as carefully as if it were a couch, spreadover her a white cloth, and took a last look; "Farewell! Cecilia! restin peace! To-night we will come to you, and then we shall be separatedno more!" Turning again to the _monatto_, "As you pass to-night," saidshe, "you will come for me; and not for me only!"
She returned into the house, and a moment after appeared at a window,holding in her arms another cherished child, who was still living, butwith the stamp of death on her countenance. She contemplated theunworthy obsequies of Cecilia, until the car disappeared from her eyes,and then left the window with her mournful burthen. And what remainedfor them, but to die together, as the flower which proudly lifts itshead, falls with the bud, under the desolating scythe which levels everyherb of the field.
"O God!" cried Renzo, "save her! protect her! her and this innocentcreature! they have suffered enough! they have suffered enough!"
He then proceeded on his way, filled with emotions of distress and pity.Another convoy of wretched victims encountered him at a cross street ontheir way to the lazaretto. Some were imploring to be allowed to die ontheir own beds in peace; some moving on with imbecile apathy, women asusual with their little ones, and even some of these supported andencouraged with manly devotion by their brothers a little older thanthemselves, and whom alone the plague had for a time spared for thisaffecting office. When the miserable crowd had nearly passed, headdressed a commissary whose aspect was a little less savage than therest; and enquired of him the street and the house of Don Ferrante. Hereplied, "The first street to the right, the last hotel to the left."
The young man hastened thither, with new and deeper trouble at hisheart. Easily distinguishing the house, he approached the door, raisedhis hand to the knocker, and held it suspended awhile, before he couldsummon resolution to knock.
At the sound, a window was half opened, and a female appeared at it,looking towards the door with a countenance which appeared to ask, "Isit _monatti_? thieves? or poisoners?"
"Signora," said Renzo, but in a tremulous voice, "is there not here inservice a young villager of the name of Lucy?"<
br />
"She is no longer here; begone," replied the woman, about to close thewindow.
"A moment, I beseech you. She is no longer here! Where is she?"
"At the lazaretto."
"A moment, for the love of Heaven! With the pestilence?"
"Yes. It is something very uncommon, is it not? Begone then."
"Wait an instant. Was she very ill? Is it long since?"
But this time the window was closed entirely.
"Oh! signora, signora! one word, for charity! Alas! alas! one word!" Buthe might as well have talked to the wind.
Afflicted by this intelligence, and vexed with the rude treatment of thewoman, Renzo seized the knocker again, and raised it for the purpose ofstriking. In his distress, he turned to look at the neighbouring houses,with the hope of seeing some one, who would give him more satisfactoryinformation. But the only person he discovered, was a woman, abouttwenty paces off, who, with an appearance of terror, anger, andimpatience, was making signs to some one to approach; and this she did,as if not wishing to attract Renzo's notice. Perceiving him looking ather, she shuddered with horror.
"What the devil!" said Renzo, threatening her with his fist, but she,having lost the hope of his being seized unexpectedly, cried aloud, "Apoisoner! catch him! catch him! stop the poisoner!"
"Who? I! old sorceress! be silent," cried Renzo, as he approached her inorder to compel her to be so. But he soon perceived that it was best tothink of himself, as the cry of the woman had gathered people from everyquarter; not in so great numbers as would have been seen three monthsbefore under similar circumstances, but still many more than one mancould resist. At this moment, the window was again opened, and the samediscourteous woman appeared at it, crying, "Seize him, seize him; hemust be one of the rascals who wander about to poison the doors ofpeople."
Renzo determined in an instant that it was better to fly than to stop tojustify himself. Rapidly casting his eyes around to see on which sidethere were the fewest people, and fighting his way through those thatopposed him, he soon freed himself from their clutches.
The street was deserted before him; but behind him the terrible crystill resounded, "Seize him! stop him! a poisoner!" It gained on him,steps were close at his heels. His anger became rage; his agony,despair; drawing his knife from his pocket, and brandishing it in theair, he turned, crying aloud, "Let him who dares come here, the rascal,and I will poison him indeed with this."
But he saw, with astonishment and pleasure, that his persecutors hadalready stopped, as if some obstacle opposed their path; and were makingfrantic gestures to persons beyond him. Turning again, he beheld a carapproaching, and even a file of cars with their usual accompaniments.Beyond them was another little band of people prepared to seize thepoisoner, but prevented by the same obstacle. Seeing himself thusbetween two fires, it occurred to Renzo, that _that_ which was an objectof terror to these people, might be to him a source of safety.Reflecting that this was not a moment for fastidious scruples, headvanced towards the cars, passed the first, and perceiving in thesecond a space large enough to receive him, threw himself into it.
"Bravo! bravo!" cried the _monatti_ with one shout. Some of them werefollowing the convoy on foot, others were seated on the cars, others onthe dead bodies, drinking from an enormous flagon, which they passedaround. "Bravo! that was well done!"
"You have placed yourself under the protection of the _monatti_; you areas safe as if you were in a church," said one, who was seated on the carinto which Renzo had thrown himself.
The enemy was obliged to retreat, crying, however, "Seize him! seizehim! he is a poisoner!"
"Let me silence them!" said the _monatto_; and drawing from one of thedead bodies a dirty rag, he tied it up in a bundle, and made a gestureas if intending to throw it among them, crying, "Here, rascals!" At thesight, all fled away in horror!
A howl of triumph arose from the _monatti_.
"Ah! ah! you see we can protect honest people," said the _monatto_ toRenzo, "one of us is worth a hundred of those cowards."
"I owe my life to you," said Renzo, "and I thank you sincerely."
"'Tis a trifle, a trifle; you deserve it; 'tis plain to be seen you're abrave fellow; you do well to poison this rabble; extirpate the fools,who, as a reward for the life we lead, say, that the plague once over,they will hang us all. They must all be finished, before the plagueceases; the _monatti_ alone must remain to sing for victory, and tofeast in Milan."
"Life to the pestilence, and death to the rabble!" cried another,putting the flagon to his mouth, from which he drank freely, and thenoffered it to Renzo, saying, "Drink to our health."
"I wish it to you all," said Renzo, "but I am not thirsty, and do notwant to drink now."
"You have been terribly frightened, it seems," said the _monatto_; "youappear to be a harmless sort of a person; you should have another facethan that for a poisoner."
"Give me a drop," said a _monatto_, who walked by the side of the cars;"I would drink to the health of the nobleman, who is here in such goodcompany--in yonder carriage!" And with a malignant laugh he pointed tothe car in which poor Renzo was seated. Then brutally composing hisfeatures to an expression of gravity, he bowed profoundly, saying, "Willyou permit, my dear master, a poor devil of a _monatto_ to taste alittle wine from your cellar? Do now, because we lead rough lives, andmoreover, we are doing you the favour to take you a ride into thecountry. And besides, you are not accustomed to wine, and it might harmyour lordship; but the poor _monatti_ have good stomachs."
His companions laughed loudly; he took the flagon, and before he drank,turned again to Renzo, and with an air of insulting compassion said,"The devil with whom you have made a compact, must be very young; if wehad not saved you, you would have been none the better for hisassistance."
His companions laughed louder than before, and he applied the flagon tohis lips.
"Leave some for us! some for us!" cried those from the forward car.After having taken as much as he wanted, he returned the flagon to hiscompanions, who passed it on; the last of the company having emptied it,threw it on the pavement, crying, "Long live the pestilence!" Then theycommenced singing a lewd song, in which they were accompanied by all thevoices of the horrible choir. This infernal music, blended with thetingling of the bells, the noise of the wheels, and of the horses' feet,resounded in the empty silence of the streets, echoed through thehouses, wringing the hearts of the very few who still inhabited them!
But the danger of the preceding moment had rendered more than tolerableto Renzo, the company of these wretches and the dead they were about tointer; and even this music was almost agreeable to his ears, as itrelieved him from the embarrassment of such conversation. He returnedthanks to Providence for having enabled him to escape from his peril,without receiving or doing an injury; and he prayed God to help him nowto deliver himself from his liberators. He kept on the watch to seizethe first opportunity of quietly quitting the car, without exciting theopposition of his protectors.
At last they reached the lazaretto. At the appearance of a commissary,one of the two _monatti_ who were on the car with Renzo jumped to theground, in order to speak with him: Renzo hastily quitting the ear, saidto the other, "I thank you for your kindness; God reward you."
"Go, go, poor poisoner," replied he, "it will not be you who willdestroy Milan!"
Fortunately no one heard him. Renzo hastened onwards by the wall,crossed the bridge, passed the convent of the capuchins, and thenperceived the angle of the lazaretto. In front of the inclosure ahorrible scene presented itself to his view. Arrived in front of thelazaretto, throngs of sick were pressing into the avenues which led tothe building; some were seated or lying in the ditch, which bordered theroad on either side, their strength not having sufficed to enable themto reach their asylum, or who, having quitted it in desperation, weretoo weak to go further; others wandered by themselves, stupified, andinsensible to their condition; one was quite animated, relating hisimaginations to a miserable companion, who was s
tretched on the ground,oppressed by suffering; another was furious from despair; a third, morehorrible still! was singing, in a voice above all the rest, and withheart-rending hilarity, one of the popular songs of love, gay andplayful, which the Milanese call _villanelle_.
Already weary, and confounded at the view of so much misery concentratedwithin so small a space, our poor Renzo reached the gate of thelazaretto. He crossed the threshold, and stood for a moment motionlessunder the portico.
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