Delphi Collected Works of W. Somerset Maugham (Illustrated)

by William Somerset Maugham

  We flourished our swords and shouted, —

  ‘Liberty!’

  ‘Now, you, Filippo, take Lodovico Pansecchi and Marco, and go to the apartment of the Countess; tell her that she and her children are prisoners, and let no one enter or leave. Do this at any cost.... The rest of us will go out and rouse the people. I have twenty servants armed whom I told to wait in the piazza; they will come and guard the Palace and give you any help you need. Come!’

  I did not know the way to the Countess’s chamber, but Marco had been a special favourite and knew well the ins and outs of the Palace. He guided me to the door, where we waited. In a few minutes we heard cries in the piazza, and shouts of ‘Liberty.’ There came a tramp of feet up the stairs. It was Checco’s armed servants. Some of them appeared where we were. I sent Marco to lead the others.

  ‘Clear the Palace of all the servants. Drive them out into the piazza, and if anyone resists, kill him.’

  Marco nodded and went off. The door of the Countess’s apartments was opened, and a lady said, —

  ‘What is this noise?’

  But immediately she saw us, she gave a shriek and ran back. Then, leaving two men to guard the door, I entered with Pansecchi and the rest. The Countess came forward.

  ‘What is the meaning of this?’ she said angrily. ‘Who are you? What are these men?’

  ‘Madam,’ I said, ‘the Count, your husband, is dead, and I have been sent to take you prisoner.’

  The women began to weep and wail, but the Countess did not move a muscle. She appeared indifferent to my intelligence.

  ‘You,’ I said, pointing to the ladies and women servants, ‘you are to leave the Palace at once. The Countess will be so good as to remain here with her children.’

  Then I asked where the children were. The women looked at their mistress, who said shortly, —

  ‘Bring them!’

  I signed to Pansecchi, who accompanied one of the ladies out of the room, and reappeared with the three little children.

  ‘Now, madam,’ I said, ‘will you dismiss these ladies?’

  She looked at me a moment, hesitating. The cries from the piazza were growing greater; it was becoming a roar that mounted to the Palace windows.

  ‘You can leave me,’ she said.

  They broke again into shrieks and cries, and seemed disinclined to obey the order. I had no time to waste.

  ‘If you do not go at once, I shall have you thrown out!’

  The Countess stamped her foot.

  ‘Go when I tell you! Go!’ she said. ‘I want no crying and screaming.’

  They moved to the door like a flock of sheep, trampling on one another, bemoaning their fate. At last I had the room free.

  ‘Madam,’ I said, ‘you must allow two soldiers to remain in the room.’

  I locked the two doors of the chamber, mounted a guard outside each, and left her.

  XXIV

  I WENT out into the piazza. It was full of men, but where was the enthusiasm we had expected, the tumult, the shouts of joy? Was not the tyrant dead? But they stood there dismayed, confounded, like sheep.... And was not the tyrant dead? I saw partisans of Checco rushing through the crowd with cries of ‘Death to all tyrants,’ and ‘Liberty, liberty!’ but the people did not move. Here and there were men mounted on barrows, haranguing the people, throwing out words of fire, but the wind was still and they did not spread.... Some of the younger ones were talking excitedly, but the merchants kept calm, seeming afraid. They asked what was to happen now — what Checco would do? Some suggested that the town should be offered to the Pope; others talked of Lodovico Sforza and the vengeance he would bring from Milan.

  I caught sight of Alessandra Moratini.

  ‘What news? What news?’

  ‘Oh God, I don’t know!’ he said with an expression of agony. ‘They won’t move. I thought they would rise up and take the work out of our hands. But they are as dull as stones.’

  ‘And the others?’ I asked.

  ‘They are going through the town trying to rouse the people. God knows what success they will have!’

  At that moment there was a stir at one end of the square, and a crowd of mechanics surged in, headed by a gigantic butcher, flourishing a great meat-axe. They were crying ‘Liberty!’ Matteo went towards them and began to address them, but the butcher interrupted him and shouted coarse words of enthusiasm, at which they all yelled with applause.

  Checco came on the scene, accompanied by his servants. A small crowd followed, crying, —

  ‘Bravo, Checco! bravo!’

  As soon as the mechanics saw him, they rushed towards him, surrounding him with cries and cheers.... The square was growing fuller every moment; the shops had been closed, and from all quarters came swarming artisans and apprentices. I made my way to Checco and whispered to him, —

  ‘The people! Fire them, and the rest will follow.’

  ‘A leader of rabble!’

  ‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘Make use of them. Give way to them now, and they will do your will. Give them the body of the Count!’

  He looked at me, then nodded and whispered, —

  ‘Quickly!’

  I ran to the Palace and told Marco Scorsacana what I had come for. We went into the Hall of the Nymphs; the body was lying on its face, almost doubled up, and the floor was stained with a horrible stream of blood; in the back were two wounds. Lodovico had indeed made sure that the Count was safe.... We caught hold of the body; it was not yet cold, and dragged it to the window. With difficulty we lifted it on to the sill.

  ‘Here is your enemy!’ I cried.

  Then hoisting him, we pushed him out, and he fell on the stones with a great, dull thud. A mighty shout burst from the mob as they rushed at the body. One man tore the chain off his neck, but as he was running away with it another snatched at it. In the struggle it broke, and one got away with the chain, the other with the jewel. Then, with cries of hate, they set on the corpse. They kicked him and slapped his face and spat on him. The rings were wrenched off his fingers, his coat was torn away; they took his shoes, his hose; in less than a minute everything had been robbed, and he was lying naked, naked as when he was born. They had no mercy those people; they began to laugh and jeer, and make foul jokes about his nakedness.

  The piazza was thronged, and every moment people entered; the women of the lower classes had come, joining their shrill cries to the shouts of the men. The noise was stupendous, and above all rang the cries of Liberty and Death.

  ‘The Countess! The Countess!’

  It became the general cry, drowning the others, and from all quarters.

  ‘Where is the Countess? Bring her out. Death to the Countess!’

  A cry went up that she was in the Palace, and the shout became, —

  ‘To the Palace! To the Palace!’

  Checco said to us, —

  ‘We must save her. If they get hold of her she will be torn to pieces. Let her be taken to my house.’

  Matteo and Pansecchi took all the soldiers they could and entered the Palace. In a few minutes they appeared with Caterina and her children; they had surrounded her and were walking with drawn swords.

  A yell broke from these thousands of throats, and they surged towards the little band. Checco shouted out to them to let her go in peace, and they held back a little; but as she passed they hissed and cursed and called her foul names. Caterina walked proudly, neither turning to the right nor to the left, no sign of terror on her face, not even a pallid cheek. She might have been traversing the piazza amidst the homage of her people. Suddenly it occurred to a man that she had jewels concealed on her. He pushed through the guards and put his hand to her bosom. She lifted her hand and hit him in the face. A cry of rage broke from the populace, and they made a rush. Matteo and his men stopped, closing together, and he said, —

  ‘By God! I swear I will kill any man who comes within my reach.’

  They shrank back frightened, and taking advantage of this, the little
band hurried out of the piazza.

  Then the people looked at one another, waiting for something to do, not knowing where to begin. Their eyes were beginning to flame, and their hands to itch for destruction. Checco saw their feeling, and at once pointed to the Palace.

  ‘There are the fruits of your labours, your money, your jewels, your taxes. Go and take back your own. There is the Palace. We give you the Palace.’

  They broke into a cheer, a rush was made, and they struggled in by the great doors, fighting their way up the stairs in search of plunder, dispersing through the splendid rooms....

  Checco looked at them disappearing through the gateway.

  ‘Now, we have them at last.’

  In a few minutes the stream at the Palace gates became double, for it consisted of those coming out as well as of those going in. The confusion became greater and greater, and the rival bands elbowed and struggled and fought. The windows were burst open and things thrown out — coverlets, linen, curtains, gorgeous silks, Oriental brocades, satins — and the women stood below to catch them. Sometimes there was a struggle for possession, but the objects were poured out so fast that everyone could be satisfied. Through the doors men could be seen coming with their arms full, their pockets bulging, and handing their plunder to their wives to take home, while they themselves rushed in again. All the little things were taken first, and then it was the turn of the furniture. People came out with chairs or coffers on their heads, bearing them away quickly lest their claim should be disputed. Sometimes the entrance was stopped by two or three men coming out with a heavy chest or with the pieces of a bedstead. Then the shouting and pushing and confusion were worse than ever.... Even the furniture gave out under the keen hands, and looking round they saw that the walls and floors were bare. But there was still something for them. They made for the doors and wrenched them away. From the piazza we saw men tear out the window frames, even the hinges were taken, and they streamed out of the Palace heavily laden, their hands bloody from the work of destruction.

  All over the town the bells were ringing, and still people surged into the piazza. Thousands had got nothing from the Palace, and they cried out in anger against their companions, envious at their good luck. Bands had formed themselves with chiefs, and they were going about exciting the others. Checco stood among them, unable to restrain them. Suddenly another cry rose from a thousand throats, —

  ‘The Treasury!’

  And irresistible as the sea, they rushed to the Gabella. In a few minutes the same ruin had overtaken it, and it was lying bare and empty.

  Scarcely one of them remained in the piazza. The corpse was lying on the cold stones, naked, the face close to the house in which the living man had taken such pride; and the house itself, with the gaping apertures from the stolen windows, looked like a building which had been burnt with fire, so that only the walls remained. And it was empty but for a few rapacious men, who were wandering about like scavengers to see whether anything had been left unfound.

  The body had done its work and it could rest in peace. Checco sent for friars, who placed it on a stretcher, covering its nakedness, and bore it to their church.

  Night came, and with it a little peace. The tumult with which the town was filled quietened down; one by one the sounds ceased, and over the city fell a troubled sleep....

  XXV

  WE were up betimes. The town was ours, except the citadel. Checco had gone to the fortress, which stood above the town, to one side, and had summoned the Castellan to surrender. He had refused, as we expected; but we were not much troubled, for we had Caterina and her children in our power, and by their means thought we could get hold of the castle.

  Checco had called a meeting of the Council to decide what should be done with the town. It was purely a measure of politeness, for he had already made up his mind and taken steps in accordance. With the town so troubled, the citadel still in our opponent’s hands, and the armies of Lodovico Moro at Milan, it was hopeless to suggest standing alone; and Checco had decided to offer Forli to the Pope. This would give a protection against external enemies and would not greatly interfere with the internal relations. The real power would belong to the chief citizen, and Checco knew well enough whom that was. Further, the lax grasp of the Pope would soon be loosed by death, and in the confusion of a long conclave and a change of rulers, it would not be impossible to change the state of dependence into real liberty, and for Checco to add the rights and titles of lordship to the power. On the previous night he had sent a messenger to the Protonotary Savello, the papal governor of Cesena, with an account of what had happened and the offer of the town. Checco had requested an immediate reply, and was expecting it every minute.

  The Council was called for ten o’clock. At nine Checco received Savello’s secret consent.

  The President of the Council was Niccolo Tornielli, and he opened the sitting by reminding his hearers of their object, and calling for their opinions. At first no one would speak. They did not know what was in Checco’s mind, and they had no wish to say anything that might be offensive to him. The Forlivesi are a cautious race! After a while an old man got up and timidly expressed the thanks of the citizens for the freedom which Checco had bestowed upon them, suggesting also that he should speak first. The lead thus given, the worthies rose, one after another, and said the same things with an air of profound originality.

  Then Antonio Sassi stood up. It was he who had advised Girolamo to impose the taxes on the town; and he was known to be a deadly enemy of Checco. The others had been sufficiently astonished when they saw him enter the Council chamber, for it was thought that he had left the town, as Ercole Piacentini and others of the Count’s favourites had done. When he prepared to speak, the surprise was universal.

  ‘Our good friend, Niccolo,’ he said, ‘has called upon us to decide what shall be done with the town.

  ‘Your thoughts seem to be inclining to one foreign master or another. But my thoughts are inclining to the Liberty, in whose name the town has been won.

  ‘Let us maintain the Liberty which these men have conquered at the risk of their lives....

  ‘Why should we doubt our ability to preserve the Liberty of our ancestors? Why should we think that we, who are descended from such fathers, born from their blood, bred in their houses, should have degenerated so far as to be incapable of seizing the opportunity which is presented to us?

  ‘Let us not fear that the Mighty Monarch, who defends and protects him who walks the path of the Just, will fail to give us spirit and strength to introduce and firmly to implant in this city the blessed state of Liberty.’

  At the end of the sentence Antonio Sassi paused to see the effect on his auditors.

  He went on, —

  ‘But as the example of Our Master has shown us that the shepherd is necessary for the preservation of the flock; and as He seems to point out our guardian by the success which He has granted to his arms in the extermination of the Wolf, I propose that we surrender our Liberty to the hands of him who is best able to preserve it — Checco d’Orsi.’

  A cry of astonishment burst from the Councillors. Was this Antonio Sassi? They looked at Checco, but he was impassive; not even the shadow of a thought could be read on his face. They asked themselves whether this was pre-arranged, whether Checco had bought his enemy, or whether it was a sudden device of Antonio to make his peace with the victor. One could see the agitation of their minds. They were tortured: they did not know what Checco thought. Should they speak or be silent? There was a look of supplication in their faces which was quite pitiful. Finally, one of them made up his mind, and rose to second Antonio Sassi’s motion. Then others took their courage in both hands and made speeches full of praise for Checco, begging him to accept the sovereignty.

  A grave smile appeared on Checco’s face, but it disappeared at once. When he thought there had been sufficient talking he rose to his feet, and, after thanking his predecessors for their eulogies, said, —

  ‘I
t is true that we have conquered the city at the risk of our lives; but it was for the city, not for ourselves.... No thought of our own profit entered our minds, but we were possessed by a grave sense of our duty towards our fellowmen. Our watch-words were Liberty and the Commonweal! From the bottom of my heart I thank Antonio Sassi and all of you who have such confidence in me that you are willing to surrender the town to my keeping. In their good opinion I find a sufficient reward for all I have done. But, God knows, I have no desire to rule. I want the love of my fellow-citizens, not the fear of subjects; I look with dismay upon the toils of a ruler. And who would believe in my disinterestedness when he saw me take up the sceptre which the lifeless hand has dropped?

  ‘Forgive me; I cannot accept your gift.

  ‘But there is one who can and will. The Church is not wont to close her breast to him who seeks refuge beneath her sacred cloak, and she will pardon us for having shaken from our necks the hard yoke of Tyranny. Let us give ourselves to the Holy Father—’

  He was interrupted by the applause of the councillors: they did not want to hear further, but agreed unanimously; and it was forthwith arranged that an embassy should be sent to the Governor of Cesena to make the offer. The meeting was broken up amidst shouts of praise for Checco. If he had been strong before, he was ten times stronger now, for the better classes had been afraid of the mob and angry that he should depend on them; now they were won too.

  The people knew that the Council was assembled to consult on the destinies of the town, and they had come together in thousands outside the Council House. The news was made known to them at once, and when Checco appeared at the top of the stairs a mighty shout burst from them, and they closed round him with cries and cheers.

  ‘Bravo! Bravo!’

  He began to walk homewards, and the crowd followed, making the old grey streets ring with their shouts. On each side people were thronging and stood on tiptoe to see him, the men waving their caps and throwing them in the air, the women madly flourishing handkerchiefs; children were hoisted up that they might see the great man pass, and joined their shrill cries to the tumult. Then it occurred to someone to spread his cloak for Checco to walk on, and at once everyone followed his example, and the people pressed and struggled to lay their garments before his feet. And baskets of flowers were obtained and scattered before him, and the heavy scent of the narcissi filled the air. The shouts were of all kinds; but at last one arose, and gathered strength, and replaced the others, till ten thousand throats were shouting, —