The Cloister and the Hearth

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by Charles Reade


  CHAPTER LXIII

  A dark cloud fell on a noble mind.

  His pure and unrivalled love for Margaret had been his polar star. Itwas quenched, and he drifted on the gloomy sea of no hope.

  Nor was he a prey to despair alone, but to exasperation at all hisself-denial, fortitude, perils, virtue, wasted and worse than wasted;for it kept burning and stinging him, that, had he stayed lazily,selfishly at home, he should have saved his Margaret's life.

  These two poisons, raging together in his young blood, maddened anddemoralized him. He rushed fiercely into pleasure. And in those days,even more than now, pleasure was vice. Wine, women, gambling, whatevercould procure him an hour's excitement and a moment's oblivion. Heplunged into these things, as men tired of life have rushed among theenemy's bullets.

  The large sums he had put by for Margaret gave him ample means fordebauchery, and he was soon the leader of those loose companions he hadhitherto kept at a distance.

  His heart deteriorated along with his morals.

  He sulked with his old landlady for thrusting gentle advice and warningon him; and finally removed to another part of the town, to be clear ofremonstrance and reminiscences. When he had carried this game on sometime, his hand became less steady, and he could no longer write tosatisfy himself. Moreover, his patience declined as the habits ofpleasure grew on him. So he gave up that art, and took likenesses incolours.

  But this he neglected whenever the idle rakes, his companions, came forhim.

  And so he dived in foul waters, seeking that sorry oyster-shell,Oblivion.

  It is not my business to paint at full length the scenes of coarse vicein which this unhappy young man now played a part. But it is my businessto impress the broad truth, that he was a rake, a debauchee, and adrunkard, and one of the wildest, loosest, and wickedest young men inRome.

  They are no lovers of truth, nor of mankind, who conceal or slur thewickedness of the good, and so by their want of candour rob despondentsinners of hope.

  Enough, the man was not born to do things by halves. And he was notvicious by halves.

  His humble female friends often gossiped about him. His old landladytold Teresa he was going to the bad, and prayed her to try and find outwhere he was.

  Teresa told her husband Lodovico his sad story, and bade him look aboutand see if he could discover the young man's present abode. "Shouldstremember his face, Lodovico mio?"

  "Teresa, a man in my way of life never forgets a face, least of all abenefactor's. But thou knowest I seldom go abroad by daylight."

  Teresa sighed. "And how long is it to be so, Lodovico?"

  "Till some cavalier passes his sword through me. They will not let apoor fellow like me take to any honest trade."

  Pietro Vanucci was one of those who bear prosperity worse thanadversity.

  Having been ignominiously ejected for late hours by their old landlady,and meeting Gerard in the street, he greeted him warmly, and soon aftertook up his quarters in the same house.

  He brought with him a lad called Andrea, who ground his colours, andwas his pupil, and also his model, being a youth of rare beauty, and assharp as a needle.

  Pietro had not quite forgotten old times, and professed a warmfriendship for Gerard.

  Gerard, in whom all warmth of sentiment seemed extinct, submitted coldlyto the other's friendship.

  And a fine acquaintance it was. This Pietro was not only a libertine,but half a misanthrope, and an open infidel.

  And so they ran in couples, with mighty little in common. O, rarephenomenon!

  One day, when Gerard had undermined his health, and taken the bloomoff his beauty, and run through most of his money, Vanucci got up agay party to mount the Tiber in a boat drawn by buffaloes. Lorenzo de'Medici had imported these creatures into Florence about three yearsbefore. But they were new in Rome, and nothing would content this beggaron horseback, Vanucci, but being drawn by the brutes up the Tiber.

  Each libertine was to bring a lady and she must be handsome, or hebe fined. But the one that should contribute the loveliest was to becrowned with laurel, and voted a public benefactor. Such was theirreading of "Vir bonus est quis?" They got a splendid galley, and twelvebuffaloes. And all the libertines and their female accomplices assembledby degrees at the place of embarkation. But no Gerard.

  They waited for him some time, at first patiently, then impatiently.

  Vanucci excused him. "I heard him say he had forgotten to providehimself with a fardingale. Comrades, the good lad is hunting fora beauty fit to take rank among these peerless dames. Consider thedifficulty, ladies, and be patient!"

  At last Gerard was seen at some distance with a female in his hand.

  "She is long enough," said one of her sex, criticising her from afar.

  "Gemini! what steps she takes," said another. "Oh! it is wise to hurryinto good company," was Pietro's excuse.

  But when the pair came up, satire was choked.

  Gerard's companion was a peerless beauty; she extinguished theboat-load, as stars the rising sun. Tall, but not too tall; and straightas a dart, yet supple as a young panther. Her face a perfect oval, herforehead white, her cheeks a rich olive with the eloquent blood mantlingbelow and her glorious eyes fringed with long thick silken eyelashes,that seemed made to sweep up sensitive hearts by the half dozen. Saucyred lips, and teeth of the whitest ivory.

  The women were visibly depressed by this wretched sight; the men inecstasies; they received her with loud shouts and waving of caps, andone enthusiast even went down on his knees upon the boat's gunwale, andhailed her of origin divine. But his chere amie pulling his hair forit--and the goddess giving him a little kick--cotemporaneously, he laysupine; and the peerless creature frisked over his body without deigninghim a look, and took her seat at the prow. Pietro Vanucci sat in a sortof collapse, glaring at her, and gaping with his mouth open like a dyingcod-fish.

  The drover spoke to the buffaloes, the ropes tightened, and they movedup stream.

  "What think ye of this new beef, mesdames?"

  "We ne'er saw monsters so viley ill-favoured; with their nasty hornsthat make one afeard, and, their foul nostrils cast up into the air.Holes be they; not nostrils."

  "Signorina, the beeves are a present from Florence the beautiful Wouldye look a gift beef i' the nose?"

  "They are so dull," objected a lively lady. "I went up Tiber twice asfast last time with but five mules and an ass."

  "Nay, that is soon mended," cried a gallant, and jumping ashore he drewhis sword, and despite the remonstrances of the drivers, went down thedozen buffaloes goading them.

  They snorted and whisked their tails, and went no faster, at which theboat-load laughed loud and long: finally he goaded a patriarch bull,who turned instantly on the sword, sent his long horns clean through thespark, and with a furious jerk of his prodigious neck sent him flyingover his head into the air. He described a bold parabola and fellsitting, and unconsciously waving his glittering blade, into the yellowTiber. The laughing ladies screamed and wrung their hands, all butGerard's fair. She uttered something very like an oath, and seizing thehelm steered the boat out, and the gallant came up sputtering, gripedthe gunwale, and was drawn in dripping.

  He glared round him confusedly. "I understand not that," said he, alittle peevishly; puzzled, and therefore, it would seem, discontented.At which, finding he was by some strange accident not slain, his doubletbeing perforated, instead of his body, they began to laugh again louderthan ever.

  "What are ye cackling at?" remonstrated the spark, "I desire to knowhow 'tis that one moment a gentleman is out yonder a pricking of Africanbeef, and the next moment--"

  Gerard's lady. "Disporting in his native stream."

  "Tell him not, a soul of ye," cried Vanucci. "Let him find out 's ownriddle."

  Confound ye all. I might puzzle my brains till doomsday, I should ne'erfind it out. Also, where is my sword?

  Gerard's lady. "Ask Tiber! Your best way, signor, will be to do it overagain; and, in a word,
keep pricking of Afric's beef, till your mindreceives light. So shall you comprehend the matter by degrees, aslawyers mount heaven, and buffaloes Tiber."

  Here a chevalier remarked that the last speaker transcended the sons ofAdam as much in wit as she did the daughters of Eve in beauty.

  At which, and indeed at all their compliments, the conduct of PietroVanucci was peculiar. That signor had left off staring, and gapingbewildered; and now sat coiled up snake-like, on each, his mouthmuffled, and two bright eyes fixed on the' lady, and twinkling andscintillating most comically.

  He did not appear to interest or amuse her in return. Her glorious eyesand eyelashes swept him calmly at times, but scarce distinguished himfrom the benches and things.

  Presently the unanimity of the party suffered a momentary check.

  Mortified by the attention the cavaliers paid to Gerard's companion, theladies began to pick her to pieces sotto voce, and audibly.

  The lovely girl then showed that, if rich in beauty, she was poor infeminine tact. Instead of revenging herself like a true woman throughthe men, she permitted herself to overhear, and openly retaliate on herdetractors.

  "There is not one of you that wears Nature's colours," said she. "Lookhere," and she pointed rudely in one's face. "This is the beauty that isto be bought in every shop. Here is cerussa, here is stibium, andhere purpurissum. Oh, I know the articles bless you, I use them everyday--but not on my face, no thank you."

  Here Vanucci's eyes twinkled themselves nearly out of sight.

  "Why, your lips are coloured, and the very veins in your forehead: not acharm but would come off with a wet towel. And look at your great coarseblack hair like a horse's tail, drugged and stained to look like tow.And then your bodies are as false as your heads and your cheeks, andyour hearts I trow. Look at your padded bosoms, and your wooden heeledchopines to raise your little stunted limbs up and deceive the world.Skinny dwarfs ye are, cushioned and stultified into great fat giants.Aha, mesdames, well is it said of you, grande--di legni: grosse--distraci: rosse--di bettito: bianche--di calcina."

  This drew out a rejoinder. "Avaunt, vulgar toad, telling the meneverything. Your coarse, ruddy cheeks are your own, and your littlehandful of African hair. But who is padded more? Why, you are shapedlike a fire-shovel."

  "Ye lie, malapert."

  "Oh, the well-educated young person! Where didst pick her up, SerGerard?"

  "Hold thy peace, Marcia," said Gerard, awakened by the raised treblesfrom a gloomy reverie. "Be not so insolent! The grave shall close overthy beauty as it hath over fairer than thee."

  "They began," said Marcia petulantly.

  "Then be thou the first to leave off."

  "At thy request, my friend." She then whispered Gerard, "It was only tomake you laugh; you are distraught, you are sad. Judge whether I carefor the quips of these little fools, or the admiration of these bigfools. Dear Signor Gerard, would I were what they take me for? Youshould not be so sad."

  Gerard sighed deeply; and shook his head. But touched by the earnestyoung tones, caressed the jet black locks, much as one strokes the headof an affectionate dog.

  At this moment a galley drifting slowly down stream got entangled for aninstant in their ropes: for, the river turning suddenly, they had shotout into the stream; and this galley came between them and the bank. Init a lady of great beauty was seated under a canopy with gallants anddependents standing behind her.

  Gerard looked up at the interruption. It was the Princess Claelia.

  He coloured and withdrew his hand from Marcia's head.

  Marcia was all admiration. "Aha! ladies," said she, "here is a rival anye will. Those cheeks were coloured by Nature-like mine."

  "Peace, child! peace!" said Gerard. "Make not too free with the great."

  "Why, she heard me not. Oh, Ser Gerard, what a lovely creature!"

  Two of the females had been for some time past putting their headstogether and casting glances at Marcia.

  One of them now addressed her.

  "Signorina, do you love almonds?"

  The speaker had a lapful of them.

  "Yes, I love them; when I can get them," said Marcia pettishly, andeyeing the fruit with ill-concealed desire; "but yours is not the handto give me any, I trow."

  "You are much mistook," said the other. "Here, catch!" And suddenlythrew a double handful into Marcia's lap.

  Marcia brought her knees together by an irresistible instinct.

  "Aha! you are caught, my lad," cried she of the nuts. "'Tis a man; or aboy. A woman still parteth her knees to catch the nuts the surer in herapron but a man closeth his for fear they should all between his hose.Confess, now, didst never wear fardingale ere to-day?"

  "Give me another handful, sweetheart, and I'll tell thee."

  "There! I said he was too handsome for a woman."

  "Ser Gerard, they have found me out," observed the Epicaene, calmlycracking an almond.

  The libertines vowed it was impossible, and all glared at the goddesslike a battery. But Vanucci struck in, and reminded the gaping gazersof a recent controversy, in which they had, with a unanimity not oftenfound among dunces, laughed Gerard and him to scorn, for saying that menwere as beautiful as women in a true artist's eye.

  "Where are ye now? This is my boy Andrea. And you have all been down onyour knees to him. Ha! ha! But oh, my little ladies, when he lecturedyou and flung your stibium, your cerussa, and your purpurissum back inyour faces, 'tis then I was like to burst; a grinds my colours. Ha! ha!he! he! he! ho!"

  "The little impostor! Duck him!"

  "What for, signors?" cried Andrea, in dismay, and lost his richcarnation.

  But the females collected round him, and vowed nobody should harm a hairof his head.

  "The dear child! How well his pretty little saucy ways become him."

  "Oh, what eyes and teeth!"

  "And what eyebrows and hair!"

  "And what lashes!"

  "And what a nose!"

  "The sweetest little ear in the world!"

  "And what health! Touch but his cheek with a pin the blood shouldsquirt."

  "Who would be so cruel?"

  "He is a rosebud washed in dew."

  And they revenged themselves for their beaux' admiration of her bylavishing all their tenderness on him.

  But one there was who was still among these butterflies, but no longerof them. The sight of the Princess Claelia had torn open his wound.

  Scarce three months ago he had declined the love of that peerlesscreature; a love illicit and insane; but at least refined.

  How much lower had he fallen now.

  How happy he must have been, when the blandishments of Claelia, thatmight have melted an anchorite, could not tempt him from the path ofloyalty!

  Now what was he? He had blushed at her seeing him in such company. Yetit was his daily company.

  He hung over the boat in moody silence.

  And from that hour another phase of his misery began; and grew upon him.

  Some wretched fools try to drown care in drink.

  The fumes of intoxication vanish; the inevitable care remains, and mustbe faced at last--with an aching head, disordered stomach, and spiritsartificially depressed.

  Gerard's conduct had been of a piece with these maniacs'. To survivehis terrible blow he needed all his forces; his virtue, his health, hishabits of labour, and the calm sleep that is labour's satellite; aboveall, his piety.

  Yet all these balms to wounded hearts he flung away and trusted to moralintoxication.

  Its brief fumes fled; the bereaved heart lay still heavy as lead withinhis bosom; but now the dark vulture Remorse sat upon it rending it.

  Broken health; means wasted; innocence fled; Margaret parted from him byanother gulf wider than the grave! The hot fit of despair passed away.

  The cold fit of despair came on.

  Then this miserable young man spurned his gay companions, and all theworld.

  He wandered alone. He drank wine alone to stupefy hi
mself; and paralyzea moment the dark foes to man that preyed upon his soul. He wanderedalone amidst the temples of old Rome, and lay stony eyed, woebegone,among their ruins, worse wrecked than they.

  Last of all came the climax, to which solitude, that gloomy yetfascinating foe of minds diseased, pushes the hopeless.

  He wandered alone at night by dark streams, and eyed them, andeyed them, with decreasing repugnance. There glided peace; perhapsannihilation.

  What else was left him?

  These dark spells have been broken by kind words, by loving and cheerfulvoices.

  The humblest friend the afflicted one possesses may speak, or look, orsmile, a sunbeam between him and that worst madness Gerard now brooded.

  Where was Teresa? Where his hearty, kind old landlady?

  They would see with their homely but swift intelligence; they would seeand save.

  No; they knew not where he was, or whither he was gliding.

  And is there no mortal eye upon the poor wretch, and the dark road he isgoing?

  Yes; one eye there is upon him; watching his every movement; followinghim abroad; tracking him home.

  And that eye is the eye of an enemy.

  An enemy to the death.

 

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