Barbarossa; An Historical Novel of the XII Century.
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_CHAPTER V_.
_AFTER THE VICTORY_.
In the midst of the battle-field stood Barbarossa, surrounded by thedead and the dying. His mantle, pierced and torn, and stained withblood, hung over his armor, whose strength had protected him so wellagainst the weapons of the Lombards; for, save a slight contusion, hewas unwounded. Far away in the plain could still be seen the Germancavalry, chasing the scattered fugitives, but near him were only a fewof his own wounded men. Before him lay a dying Guelph, the bloodwelling in torrents from his breast, who gazed upon the Emperor with anexpression which, even in his last moments, bespoke his bitter hatredfor the oppressor of his country; powerless and crushed, his impotentrage broke forth in fierce invective.
"Tyrant," said he, in a broken voice, "when will thy bloody work be atan end! Immolate the last of the Lombards to thy pride; drink theirheart's blood, if thou wilt!--we will gladly yield it to thee inexchange for our freedom!--But--be accursed!--thou and all thy race!"
He fell back and expired. The Emperor gazed sadly upon the corpse, forthe words of the dying man and his malediction had strangely moved him;but just then, Otho of Wittelsbach rode up with his men, in charge ofsome prisoners.
"I have spared these rascals, Sire," said the Count Palatine, "thatsome of them, at least, may expiate their treachery on the gibbet."
Frederic turned towards the prisoners, but even before he spoke, hisangry glance showed what fate was in store for them. Still he wassilent for an instant, in the hope that some of them might sue formercy. But there was no appeal, and pointing to a tree, he said,--
"Let them die!"
Undismayed by the approach of death, the Lombards met their fate insilence. None asked for pardon. They died martyrs to the holy cause offreedom, and in the defence of the most sacred rights of their nativeland. But their last glance was one of implacable hatred for thetyrant.
"Count Palatine, take possession of the fortress of Cinola at once,before the Milanese can strengthen themselves in the works," saidBarbarossa. "We will wait here for Goswin, and then follow with thewounded."
Wittelsbach mounted, and rode away.
Erwin had remained near the prince, and Barbarossa turned with a kindsmile towards the boy, who had so bravely fulfilled his knightly dutiesin the fight, and who had so efficiently protected the life of hissovereign.
"You have well merited your godfather's thanks, my young friend," saidhe, "and we will not prove ungrateful. Ask me what favor you will, Ipromise that it shall be granted."
Erwin bowed in silence, but before he could speak, Goswin rode up,bringing with him as prisoner the knight Bonello, the late treacherousgovernor of Cinola.
"Ah! by Saint Guy, Sire, this has been a brave day's work," said he,pointing to the dead bodies. "I would have finished mine long since,but for this noble chevalier. I must admit that he is a gallantsoldier, although, alas! a most foul traitor!"
Frederic gazed contemptuously upon his former partisan. Bonello was aman still in the prime of life, and, though short in stature, well andpowerfully built. His visage, though dejected, was calm. Like themajority of the inferior nobility, he had been long one of the warmestadherents of the Emperor, although he had acted as such rather throughnecessity than from choice. His glance fell before that of hissovereign.
"Are you ready to die the death of a traitor?" asked Frederic.
"I am ready to die," answered Guido; "but I implore you to withdraw theepithet of traitor!"
"And why, pray?"
"Sire, Guido Bonello was a traitor only on the day when he sworeallegiance to his country's tyrant, forgetting, for a moment, that hewas a Lombard."
"Are you not ashamed to seek thus to disguise your felony?" askedFrederic.
"Sire, we may bow in obedience to the monarch, who by his victoriousarms has conquered Lombardy. But when tyranny reigns in the place ofjustice, when our rights are trampled underfoot, when our country islaid waste and her inhabitants held to ransom, when the Emperor's ironheel is placed upon the necks of a kneeling people, then, Sire,obedience becomes a crime! It is better to die free, than live asslaves! If it needs be that Italy obey you against her will, exile herpopulation and replace it with serfs."
The monarch, as grand justiciary of the Empire, had allowed theprisoner full freedom of speech in his defence; but when he hadconcluded:
"The usual Lombard argument," he exclaimed; "the invention of somefacts, the misrepresentation of others! You call tyranny the energeticpunishment of traitors whom I had loaded with favors; legitimatetaxation you term extortion! But who, then, have given greaterevidences of tyranny over the weak than the Lombards themselves?Remember Como and Lodi--think of the excesses committed there beforeour army restored order! Were not those cities, the so-called allies ofMilan, only her slaves? But it is not for a sovereign to seek excusesbefore a traitor! Go, the gallows awaits you!"
Calmly, without bravado as without faltering, the prisoner heard hissentence; but as the men-at-arms advanced to seize him, he raised hishead:
"There exists an ancient custom," said he, "honored even among theheathens. All those who are condemned to death, are permitted to makeone last request, which is granted to them."
"'Tis well--what is yours?"
"Delay the execution for three days."
"Why ask for this delay?"
The tone of the prisoner changed. His confidence left him, his lipstrembled convulsively; and a tear stood in his eye.
"Pshaw!" he said, "I can scarcely believe myself guilty of suchweakness! But there are times when the feelings of a father arestronger than the duties of the patriot. Let me see my child once more;she is the sole fruit of my once happy marriage. When one is so nearhis last hour, there is much to be done."
"You need feel no shame for such sentiments," replied Frederic, "theyonly do you honor. I will grant your request. Goswin, take charge ofthe prisoner."
The Emperor turned away to give orders for the care of the wounded andthe burial of the dead. Litters were hastily constructed of lances andthe branches of trees, and then, escorted by a few knights, Barbarossarode over to Cinola, whither he was soon followed by the other troopsand the wounded Germans.