CHAPTER VIII. AMONG THE DREGS OF WINE
And so it befell that whilst by Guidobaldo's orders the preparations forValentina's nuptials went forward with feverish haste--whilst painters,carvers, and artificers in gold and silver applied themselves to theirhurried tasks; whilst messengers raced to Venice for gold leaf andultramarine for the wedding-chests whilst the nuptial bed was beingbrought from Rome and the chariot from Ferrara; whilst costlystuffs were being collected, and the wedding-garments fashioned--themagnificent Romeo Gonzaga was, on his side, as diligently contriving torender vain all that toil of preparation.
On the evening of the third day of his conspiring he sat in the roomallotted to him in the Palace of Urbino, and matured his plans. Andso well pleased was he with his self-communion that, as he sat at hiswindow, there was a contented smile upon his lips.
He allowed his glance to stray adown the slopes of that arid waste ofrocks, to the River Metauro, winding its way to the sea, through fertileplains, and gleaming here silver and yonder gold in the evening light.Not quite so complacently would he have smiled had he deemed theenterprise upon which he was engaging to be of that warlike characterwhich he had represented to Valentina. He did not want for cunning,nor for judgment of the working of human minds, and he very reasonablyopined that once the Lady Valentina immured herself in Roccaleone andsent word to her uncle that she would not wed Gian Maria, nor return tothe Court of Urbino until he passed her his ducal word that she shouldhear no more of the union, the Duke would be the first to capitulate.
He contended that this might not happen at once--nor did he wish it to;messages would pass, and Guidobaldo would seek by cajolery to win backhis niece. This she would resist, and, in the end her uncle would seethe impassable nature of the situation, and agree to her terms that itmight be ended. That it should come to arms, and that Guidobaldo shouldmove to besiege Roccaleone, he did not for a moment believe--for whatmanner of ridicule would he not draw upon himself from the neighbouringStates? At the worst, even if a siege there was, it would never becarried out with the rigour of ordinary warfare; there would be noassaults, no bombarding; it would be a simple investment, with theobject of intercepting resources, so as to starve the garrison intosubmission--for they would never dream of such victualling as Gonzagawas preparing.
Thus communed Gonzaga with himself, and the smile enlivening the cornersof his weak mouth grew more thoughtful. He dreamed great dreams thatevening; he had wondrous visions of a future princely power that shouldcome to be his own by virtue of this alliance that he was so skilfullyencompassing--a fool in a fool's paradise, with his folly for onlycompany.
But for all that, his dreams were wondrous sweet to indulge and hisvisions truly alluring to contemplate. There were plans to be formedand means to be devised for the flight to Roccaleone. There werecalculations to be made; the estimating of victuals, arms, and men; andonce these calculations were complete, there were all these things tobe obtained. The victuals he had already provided for, whilst of arms hehad no need to think; Roccaleone should be well stocked with them. Butthe finding of the men gave him some concern. He had decided to enrol ascore, which was surely the smallest number with which he could make afair show of being martially in earnest. But even though the numberwas modest, where was he to find twenty fellows who reeked so littleof their lives as to embark upon such an enterprise--even if lured bygenerous pay--and thereby incur the ducal displeasure of Guidobaido?
He dressed himself with sober rigour for once in his foppish life, anddescended, after night had fallen, to a tavern in a poor street behindthe Duomo, hoping that there, among the dregs of wine, he might findwhat he required.
By great good fortune he chanced upon an old freebooting captain, whoonce had been a meaner sort of condottiero, but who was sorely reducedby bad fortune and bad wine.
The tavern was a dingy, cut-throat place, which the delicate Gonzagahad not entered without a tremor, invoking the saints' protection, andcrossing himself ere he set foot across the threshold. Some pieces ofgoat were being cooked on the embers, in a great fireplace at the endof the room farthest from the door. Before this, Ser Luciano--thetaverner--squatted on his heels and fanned so diligently that a cloudof ashes rose ceiling high and spread itself, together with the noisomesmoke, throughout the squalid chamber. A brass lamp swung from theceiling, and shone freely through that smoke, as shines the moon throughan evening mist. So foully stank the place that at first Gonzaga wasmoved to get him thence. Only the reflection that nowhere in Urbino washe as likely as here to find the thing he sought, impelled him to stiflehis natural squeamishness and remain. He slipped upon some grease, andbarely saved himself from measuring his length upon that filthy floor,a matter which provoked a malicious guffaw from a tattered giant whowatched with interest his mincing advent.
Perspiring, and with nerves unstrung, the courtier picked his way to atable by the wall, and seated himself upon the coarse deal bench beforeit, praying that he might be left its sole occupant.
On the opposite wall hung a blackened crucifix and a small holy-waterstoup that had been dry for a generation, and was now a receptacle fordust and a withered sprig of rosemary. Immediately beneath this--in thecompany of a couple of tatterdemalions worthy of him--sat the giantwho had mocked his escape from falling, and as Gonzaga took his seat heheard the fellow's voice, guttural, bottle-thickened and contentious.
"And this wine, Luciano? Sangue della Madonna! Will you bring it beforedropping dead, pig?"
Gonzaga shuddered and would have crossed himself again for protectionagainst what seemed a very devil incarnate, but that the ruffian'sblood-shot eye was set upon him in a stony stare.
"I come, cavaliere, I come," cried the timid host, leaping to hisfeet, and leaving the goat to burn while he ministered to the giant'sunquenchable thirst.
The title caused Gonzaga to start, and he bent his eyes again on theman's face. He found it villainous of expression, inflamed and blotched;the hair hung matted about a bullet head, and the eyes glared fiercelyfrom either side of a pendulous nose. Of the knightly rank by whichthe taverner addressed him the fellow bore no outward signs. Arms hecarried, it is true; a sword and dagger at his belt, whilst beside himon the table stood a rusty steel-cap. But these warlike tools servedonly to give him the appearance of a roving masnadiero or a cut-throatfor hire. Presently abandoning the comtemplation of Gonzaga he turned tohis companions, and across to the listener floated a coarse and boastingtale of a plunderous warfare in Sicily ten years agone. Gonzaga becameexcited. It seemed indeed as if this were man who might be useful tohim. He made pretence to sip the wine Luciano had brought him, andlistened avidly to that swashbuckling story, from which it appeared thatthis knave had once been better circumstanced and something of a leader.Intently he listened, and wondered whether such men as he boasted hehad led in that campaign were still to be found and could be broughttogether.
At the end of perhaps a half-hour the two companions of that thirstygiant rose and took their leave of him. They cast a passing glance uponGonzaga, and were gone.
A little while he hesitated. The ruffian seemed to have lapsed into areverie, or else he slept with open eyes. Calling up his courage thegallant rose at last and moved across the room. All unversed in tavernways was the magnificent Gonzaga, and he who at court, in ballroom orin antechamber, was a very mirror of all the graces of a courtier, feltawkward here and ill at ease.
At length, summoning his wits to his aid:
"Good sir," said he, with some timidity, "will you do me the honour toshare a flagon with me?"
The ruffian's eye, which but a moment back had looked vacuous andmelancholy, now quickened until it seemed ablaze. He raised hisbloodshot orbs and boldly encountered Gonzaga's uneasy glance. His lipsfell apart with an anticipatory smack, his back stiffened, and his headwas raised until his chin took on so haughty a tilt that Gonzaga fearedhis proffered hospitality was on the point of suffering a scornfulrejection.
"Will I share a flagon?" gasped the fellow,
as, being the sinner that hewas and knew himself to be, he might have gasped: "Will I go to Heaven?""Will I--will I----?" He paused, and pursed his lips. His eyebrows werepuckered and his expression grew mighty cunning as again he took stockof this pretty fellow who offered flagons of wine to down-at-heeladventurers like himself. He had all but asked what was to be requiredof him in exchange for this, when suddenly he bethought him--with theknavish philosophy adversity had taught him--that were he told for whatit was intended that the wine should bribe him, and did the businesssuit him not, he should, in the confession of it, lose the wine; whilstdid he but hold his peace until he had drunk, it would be his thereafterto please himself about the business when it came to be proposed.
He composed his rugged features into the rude semblance of a smile.
"Sweet young sir," he murmured, "sweet, gentle and most illustriouslord, I would share a hogshead with such a nobleman as you."
"I am to take it that you will drink?" quoth Gonzaga, who had scarceknown what to make of the man's last words.
"Body of Bacchus! Yes. I'll drink with you gentile signorino, until yourpurse be empty or the world run dry." And he leered a mixture of mockeryand satisfaction.
Gonzaga, still half uncertain of his ground, called the tavernerand bade him bring a flagon of his best. While Luciano was about thefetching of the wine, constraint sat upon that oddly discordant pair.
"It is a chill night," commented Gonzaga presently, seating himselfopposite his swashbuckler.
"Young sir, your wits have lost their edge. The night is warm.
"I said," spluttered Gonzaga, who was unused to contradiction from hisinferiors, and wished now to assert himself, "that the night is chill."
"You lied, then," returned the other, with a fresh leer, "for, as Ianswered you, the night is warm. Piaghe di Cristo! I am an ill man tocontradict, my pretty gallant, and if I say the night is warm, warm itshall be though there be snow on Mount Vesuvius."
The courtier turned pink at that, and but for the arrival ofthe taverner with the wine, it is possible he might have done anunconscionable rashness. At sight of the red liquor the fury died out ofthe ruffler's face.
"A long life, a long thirst, a long purse, and a short memory!" was histoast, into whose cryptic meaning Gonzaga made no attempt to pry. As thefellow set down his cup, and with his sleeve removed the moisture fromhis unshorn mouth, "May I not learn," he inquired, "whose hospitality Ihave the honour of enjoying?"
"Heard you ever of Romeo Gonzaga?"
"Of Gonzaga, yes; though of Romeo Gonzaga never. Are you he?"
Gonzaga bowed his head.
"A noble family yours," returned the swashbuckler, in a tone thatimplied his own to be as good. "Let me name myself to you. I am ErcoleFortemani," he said, with the proud air of one who announced himself anemperor.
"A formidable name," said Gonzaga, in accents of surprise, "and it bearsa noble sound."
The great fellow turned on him in a sudden anger.
"Why that astonishment?" he blazed. "I tell you my name is both nobleand formidable, and you shall find me as formidable as I am noble.Diavolo! Seems it incredible?"
"Said I so?" protested Gonzaga.
"You had been dead by now if you had, Messer Gonzaga. But you thoughtso, and I may take leave to show you how bold a man it needs to think sowithout suffering."
Ruffled as a turkey-cock, wounded in his pride and in his vanity, Ercolehastened to enlighten Gonzaga on his personality.
"Learn, sir," he announced, "that I am Captain Ercole Fortemani. I heldthat rank in the army of the Pope. I have served the Pisans and thenoble Baglioni of Perugia with honour and distinction. I have commandeda hundred lances of Gianinoni's famous free-company. I have fought withthe French against the Spaniards, and with the Spaniards against theFrench, and I have served the Borgia, who is plotting against both. Ihave trailed a pike in the emperor's following, and I have held the rankof captain, too, in the army of the King of Naples. Now, young sir, youhave learned something of me, and if my name is not written in lettersof fire from one end of Italy to the other, it is--Body of God!--becausethe hands that hired me to the work garnered the glory of my deeds."
"A noble record," said Gonzaga, who had credulously absorbed thatcatalogue of lies, "a very noble record."
"Not so," the other contradicted, for the lust of contradiction that wasa part of him. "A great record, if you will, to commend me to hirelingservice. But you may not call the service of a hireling noble."
"It is a matter we will not quarrel over," said Gonzaga soothingly. Theman's ferocity was terrific.
"Who says that we shall not?" he demanded. "Who will baulk me if I havea mind to quarrel over it? Answer me!" and he half rose from his seat,moved by the anger into which he was lashing himself. "But patience!" hebroke off, subsiding on a sudden. "I take it, it was not out of regardfor my fine eyes, nor drawn by the elegance of my apparel"--and heraised a corner of his tattered cloak--"nor yet because you wish tothrow a main with me, that you have sought my acquaintance, and calledfor this wine. You require service of me?"
"You have guessed it."
"A prodigious discernment, by the Host!" He seemed to incline rathertediously to irony. Then his face grew stern, and he lowered his voiceuntil it was no more than a growling whisper. "Heed me, Messer Gonzaga.If the service you require be the slitting of a gullet or some kindredfoul business, which my seeming neediness leads you to suppose meripe for, let me counsel you, as you value your own skin, to leave theservice unmentioned, and get you gone."
In hasty, frantic, fearful protest were Gonzaga's hands outspread.
"Sir, sir--I--I could not have thought it of you," he spluttered, withwarmth, much of which was genuine, for it rejoiced him to see somescruples still shining in the foul heap of this man's rascallyexistence. A knave whose knavery knew no limits would hardly have suitedhis ends. "I do need a service, but it is no dark-corner work. It is aconsiderable enterprise, and one in which, I think, you should prove thevery man I need."
"Let me know more," quoth Ercole grandiloquently.
"I need first your word that should the undertaking prove unsuited toyou, or beyond you, you will respect the matter, and keep it secret."
"Body of Satan! No corpse was ever half so dumb as I shall be."
"Excellent! Can you find me a score of stout fellows to form a bodyguardand a garrison, who, in return for good quarters--perchance for someweeks--and payment at four times the ordinary mercenaries' rate, willbe willing to take some risk, and chance even a brush with the Duke'sforces?"
Ercole blew out his mottled cheeks until Gonzaga feared that he wouldburst them.
"It's outlawry!" he roared, when he had found his voice. "Outlawry, orI'm a fool."
"Why, yes," confessed Gonzaga. "It is outlaw matter of a kind. But therisk is slender."
"Can you tell me no more?"
"I dare not."
Ercole emptied his wine-cup at a draught and splashed the dregs onto the floor. Then, setting down the empty vessel, he sat steeped inthought awhile. Growing impatient:
"Well," cried Gonzaga at last, "can you help me? Can you find the men?"
"If you were to tell me more of the nature of this service you require,I might find a hundred with ease."
"As I have said--I need but a score."
Ercole looked mighty grave, and thoughtfully rubbed his long nose.
"It might be done," said he, after a pause. "But we shall have to lookfor desperate knaves; men who are already under a ban, and to whom itwill matter little to have another item added to their indebtedness tothe law should they fall into its talons. How soon shall you requirethis forlorn company?"
"By to-morrow night."
"I wonder----" mused Ercole. He was counting on his fingers, andappeared to have lapsed into mental calculations. "I could gethalf-a-score or a dozen within a couple of hours. But a score----" Againhe paused, and again he fell to thinking. At last, more briskly: "Let ushear what pay you offer me, to thrust
myself thus blindfolded intothis business of yours as leader of the company you require?" he askedsuddenly.
Gonzaga's face fell at that. Then he suddenly stiffened, and put on anexpression of haughtiness.
"It is my intent to lead this company myself," he loftily informed theruffler.
"Body of God!" gasped Ercole, upon whose mind intruded a grotesquepicture of such a company as he would assemble, being led by thismincing carpet-knight. Then recollecting himself: "If that be so," saidhe, "you had best, yourself, enrol it. Felicissima notte!" And he wavedhim a farewell across the table.
Here was a poser for Gonzaga. How was he to go about such a business asthat? It was beyond his powers. Thus much he protested frankly.
"Now attend to me, young sir," was the other's answer. "The matterstands thus: If I can repair to certain friends of mine with theinformation that an affair is afoot, the particulars of which I may notgive them, but in which I am to lead them myself, sharing such risk asthere may be, I do not doubt but that by this time to-morrow I can havea score of them enrolled--such is their confidence in Ercole Fortemani.But if I take them to enter a service unknown, under a leader equallyunknown, the forming of such a company would be a mighty tediousmatter."
This was an argument to the force of which Gonzaga could not remaininsensible. After a moment's consideration, he offered Ercole fifty goldflorins in earnest of good faith and the promise of pay, thereafter, atthe rate of twenty gold florins a month for as long as he should needhis services and Ercole, who in all his free-lancing days had neverearned the tenth of such a sum, was ready to fall upon this most noblegentleman's neck, and weep for very joy and brotherly affection.
The matter being settled, Gonzaga produced a heavy bag which gave fortha jangle mighty pleasant to the ears of Fortemani, and let it drop witha chink upon the table.
"There are a hundred florins for the equipment of this company. I do notwish to have a regiment of out-at-elbow tatterdemalions at my heels."And his eye swept in an uncomplimentary manner over Ercole's apparel."See that you dress them fittingly."
"It shall be done, Magnificent," answered Ercole, with a show of suchrespect as he had not hitherto manifested. "And arms?"
"Give them pikes and arquebuses, if you will; but nothing more. Theplace we are bound for is well stocked with armour--but even that maynot be required."
"May not be required?" echoed the more and more astonished swashbuckler.Were they to be paid on so lordly a scale, clothed and fed, to inducethem upon a business that might carry no fighting with it? Surely hehad never sold himself into a more likely or promising service, and thatnight he dreamt in his sleep that he was become a gentleman's steward,and that at his heels marched an endless company of lacqueys inflamboyant liveries. On the morrow he awoke to the persuasion that atlast, of a truth, was his fortune made, and that hereafter there wouldbe no more pike-trailing for his war-worn old arms.
Conscientiously he set about enrolling the company, for, in his way,this Ercole Fortemani was a conscientious man--boisterous and unrulyif you will; a rogue, in his way, with scant respect for property; notabove cogging dice or even filching a purse upon occasion when harddriven by necessity--for all that he was gently born and had heldhonourable employment; a drunkard by long habit, and a swaggeringbrawler upon the merest provocation. But for all that, riotous anddishonest though he might be in the general commerce of life, yet to thehand that hired him he strove--not always successfully, perhaps, but, atleast, always earnestly--to be loyal.
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