Don Tarquinio: A Kataleptic Phantasmatic Romance (Valancourt eClassics)

Home > Other > Don Tarquinio: A Kataleptic Phantasmatic Romance (Valancourt eClassics) > Page 10
Don Tarquinio: A Kataleptic Phantasmatic Romance (Valancourt eClassics) Page 10

by Frederick Rolfe


  Here, by the marble wall, we sat on the settle of marble, out of the stink and contusion of the mob at the front.

  [1] I don’t quite know what these ruins are, unless they are the remnants of the Villa of Vitellius on Monte Gentile: but, if this be the case, Don Tarquinio was off the main road. There are plenty of ravines between Genzano and Aricia, now spanned by the viaducts of Pius the Ninth.

  [2] Mail-clad cavalry with cross-bows. Pietrogorio’s tombstone at Velletri names him as the lieutenant of Caesar Borgia’s kataphractors.

  XVII

  In order to prevent myself from falling again into slumber, I carefully noted the white walls and the cornice of shields, spade-shaped, richly blazoned, and the Byzantine tapestries which depended therefrom. Nor did the grandeur of Ippolito on his vermilion throne, listening to the chaplains who intoned the Office of None, escape my notice. In the same manner I assiduously attended when the day’s business was begun. At first it was uninteresting.

  While the auditors whispered advice in the cardinal’s ears, and while the secretaries recorded events in huge tomes or wrote at his dictation, I put myself to count the gilded coffers of the oaken roof. This casting upward of mine eyes made me more drowsy than ever: but I knew that, if once I permitted myself to sleep, my sleep would be a stupor from which even an earthquake would not awaken me. Wherefore I constrained myself to note all that was going on: lest I should lose a chance of declaring mine achievement. For it must be clear to thee, o Prospero, that, when I ran as the Cardinal of Valencia’s angel, I ran as the Cardinal of Ferrara’s familiar, to which last it behoved me to render an account as soon as possible, as well for relieving him from his obligation to the credentials sent by our Lord the Paparch as for mine own deliverance, first, from the filth of my body, secondly, from the rigour which was paralyzing my limbs, thirdly, from the Great Ban which so direly was afflicting me. For I did not doubt but that the last would be the reward of my running.

  To pass the time, I entertained myself with thoughts of my maid, as soon as I had convinced Gioffredo of my determination to remain silent. He, being more than a little fatigued, took a nap, after cursing me for a sulky prince. I promised myself an abundance of felicity in the contemplation of Hersilia, when she should have heard of my viiij leagues’ journey through the lonely night: for it is very pleasant to be pitied and admired by one’s lover when one has striven strenuously and successfully. I tried to be deaf to the hubbub in front of me, while I indulged my mind as aforesaid: but it was merely another insidious way to sleep. Wherefore, having rejected it, I dismissed my proper affairs, and alertly attended to the others. They were as follows.

  The master of pages exhibited, to the cardinal, the monthly sheaf of the boys’ specimens of handwriting. Ippolito having inspected the same, dictated to a secretary to be written neatly on a bad one: “Gianlucido, write thus or better here and now.”

  The master of pages retired, to see it done: but Ippolito signed some billets authorizing sundry expenditures for household stuff. The notary executed them; and the datary sealed them.

  The steward brought a plebeian page, who had been caught in the act of spitting idly into the rainwater tank of the cardinal’s bathing-chamber. The rascal was condemned to be stripped in the courtyard, and to be spat upon by x of his companions during half-an-hour. Order was issued for covering the said tank with stout canvas.

  The mistress of the women shrilly complained that one Fulgencia, a laundry-maid, was refusing to be married by the barber’s son, to whom she had been betrothed one year. Interrogated whether she could shew cause for so culpable a defection, the said Fulgencia responded, saying: No. And sucked her thumb. The mistress of the women was impowered to whip her, in the presence of iij maids, every Friday at the ninth hour of the day, until the marriage should have been consummate. The said Fulgencia, having bellowed for instant nuptials, was conveyed to the chapel with the said barber’s son, iiij witnesses, and one chaplain, to be married forthwith.

  The oil-merchant appealed against the steward, who was intending to cause him to bear the loss of a consignment of his merchandize which had been stolen, on the Ostian Way, by brigands in the pay of the bandit Cardinal Giuliano Dellarovere desirous of building a new cathedral.[1] The said appeal was admitted.

  The vegetable-merchant very brazenly came forward, producing a similar appeal. But the steward confronted him with proofs of his fraud. His appeal was rejected, and his privilege was cancelled; and the steward had commandment to purchase vegetables in future from the deceiver’s rival.

  The slave-merchant offered for sale ij young Indian acrobats, saying that Cardinal Rafaele Riarj wished to have them. They performed divers tricks of agility, which Ippolito applauded; and he gave order that, on the physician certifying them to be healthy and their bodies without blemish, the treasurer should pay the price. They were extremely slim of figure; and their flesh was as yellow as dew-kissed pumpkins gleaming in the sunlight.

  The chief equerry had order to water the horses daily in Tiber, beyond the Portuensian Gate, seeing that the Keltic army was gone away.

  Order was issued for the burial of ij mercenaries, who had been found murdered outside the barbacan at dawn, having gone out at night without their mail-shirts. Order was issued for ij masses to be intoned for their souls’ repose.

  Order was issued for iij masses to be intoned for the repose of the soul of one without a name, who had died improvisedly and suddenly.

  The absurd Messer Nerone Diotisalvi was required on pain of the minor torments to apply himself more assiduously to his studies in the magic arts. For it will be clear to thee, o Prospero, that, had it not been for that mage’s ignorance of his proper craft, homicide would not have been necessary.

  Permission was granted to the firelighter to become served by ij extra boys, if the weather should continue to be cold.

  The new goldsmith offered a crucifix for purchase. Ippolito, having inspected the piece, gave order that the wretch should be buffeted by all and singular, from the audience-chamber to the gate of the barbacan, by cause that he contumeliously had used carelessness in making the Image of the Divine Heros.

  A strange poet, in a dark-green wig resembling sea-weeds, declaimed a sonnet in praise of a bee’s nipples; and he was derided.

  A very young painter, shy, rather rosy-faced, exhibited a panel whereon he had depicted the Divine Herakles and the gruesome Hydra. To whom the treasurer had order to pay xx gold sequins.

  Ippolito complained that the tallow-scraper had neglected to scrape tallow from iiij stairs, whereby the attire of a certain chamberlain (whose name I have forgotten) had been rendered indecorous, and the cardinalitial shins themselves liable to divers incommodious abrasions. The said misdemeanant was produced; and charged with his crime. He blubbered. Order was issued that he should tolerate vij stripes in honour of the Apostles. He yelled.

  The master of the pages exhibited the amended specimen of handwriting. Ippolito, having denominated it still very evil, dictated to a secretary to be written very neatly thereupon: “Gianlucido, write thus or better before to-morrow, or bid farewell to thine hide.”

  The captain of the mercenaries accused a Turkish arbalister of having murdered a baptized Dacian slinger treacherously, in a brawl, at the sixth hour of the night: also, of having torn out the said Dacian’s heart, eating the same, hot, in contempt of our most holy faith. Order was issued that the said Turk, having been conveniently tormented, should tolerate natural death by strangulation within the hour: that his carcase should hang in the place of exposition till avemmaria, and then be thrown into Tiber at a mile below the Portuensian Gate.

  Two tormentors introduced the miscreant tallow-scraper before the dais, loudly bawling. He was a sturdy Trasteverino of about the age of xiij years, dark-coloured and big-eyed, and tough and sinewy as a young wolf. Having placed him, they tied his wrists behind him with the end of a coil of rope, deftly tossing the other end over a beam in the roof, and pulling it taut; an
d so they waited.

  Ippolito was smelling to an orange infected with rose-attar: for indeed the fœtor of the mob in the audience-chamber was most putid. He threw the fruit to a favourite page; and I augured from the expression on his physiognomy that he was about to manifest abnormal sagacity. He pretended that he understood not the business which was afoot; and demanded the reason for these preparations.

  The tallow-scraper ceased his clamour, concentrating his gaze on the cardinal.

  The first tormentor responded, saying:

  “The Most Illustrious Purpled Person will choose to hear the rogue’s confession of his crime.”

  Ippolito said:

  “We have heard.”

  The first tormentor volubly expostulated, saying:

  “But not under The Question, o Most Illustrious: for none can believe a creature who is neither clerk nor noble, unless he (first) shall have been hauled upward by the drawn-back wrists and (secondly) shall have been dropped suddenly to within a span from the floor. It is the torture of hanging from dislocated shoulders which alone insureth a true confession.”

  Thus having spoken, he instantly pulled the rope; and the boy ascended high over the heads of all.

  But that rascal, being very sinewy and very quick-witted, did not wait for the dislocation of his shoulders. For, drawing up his legs and clenching his teeth as he left the floor, he instantly pressed his bound hands downward on his buttocks, with admirable force, twisting round and round like an athlete.

  Applause began to be heard. The boy’s throat curved stiffly backward; and his breasts and shoulders resembled tan-coloured knots as he hung up there. He bended his legs further and further back; and, by degrees, he contrived to grasp his own ankles, relaxing the strain on his sinews, and hanging face-downward in a delicate semicircle like a strung bow hanging by its string.

  But Ippolito went on speaking to the tormentor, saying very quickly:

  “What thou hast said is purely silly. Our chamberlain’s split hosen, and the tallow on Our stairs, proclaim the crime. The boy’s office is to look that Our floors lack tallow. No confession is needed, with The Question or without. Let him come down. Give him his whipping. And let him go to the treasurer for a rose-giulio[2] as the reward of dexterity. And then let him go to the master of the athletes, who hath order to take him in charge. And let the comptroller provide another tallow-scraper, who will do well not to waste Our tallow.”

  When the boy came down, the first tormentor disappointedly untied his wrists; and, seizing them, hoisted him in the usual manner: while the other, having turned his garment over his head, scored xij criss-cross weals on his plunging hams with a cane.

  Anon being released, the freshly sprouted athlete stifled his yells; and he instantly stood on his head with his arms and legs spread as widely apart as possible.

  Everybody burst out laughing.

  There was commotion at the door of the audience-chamber.

  Gioffredo woke up and would have been precipitate: for chamberlains were announcing:

  “The Exalted Tranquillity of the Tyrant Lucrezia Borgia-Sforza of Pesaro.”

  Beating as quickly as possible then was the heart in my bosom, instantly sensing the coming of its mate in my maid’s.

  [1] He did build it two years later (A.D. 1497). This example of the fifteenth century method of raising cathedral-building-funds may be compared with that of the twentieth.

  [2] About a shilling, with four times its purchasing value.

  XVIII

  All the women in the audience-chamber were plebeian, ugly, stinking. But this most beautiful princess brought in the odours of a garden of fragrant herbs; and, among the bevy attending her, I saw my maid.

  Her eyelashes were lowered: but, every now and then, she flashed a glance on this side and on that, as though she were seeking something. I knew what she was seeking.

  But I shrank down in my corner, pulling the impetuous Gioffredo with me: for I was not conscious that the opportune moment had arrived, even now.

  The crowd opened a pathway for the tyrant. A stool was set for her under the canopy near Ippolito. Her maids-of-honour stood behind her. All their hair was dyed yellow with oil of honey in imitation of their mistress: but my maid’s hair was as black as a sapphire in a night without light.

  The chamberlains emptied a great space in front of the dais, pressing back the crowd.

  But I and Gioffredo thrust ourselves through, not to the front rank but to the second: for I did not wish to be seen, and I did wish to hear.

  The tyrant thus addressed the cardinal, saying:

  “We are come, o lord cardinal, from visiting Our mother. Madonna Giovannozza[1] rejoiceth by cause that the Keltic soldiers are departed: for she hath been in terror lest they should rob the blossoms of her orchard, the which is her heart’s treasure; and the revenues of her late husband’s bequest suffice not for the pay of an armed guard. Wherefore, We are sworn to ask Our Most Blessed Father for the immunity of her inn[2] against taxation and against the excise-duty on wines, so that she may reap a little profit in these hard times.”

  She spoke rapidly, as her young brother did, but in a voice which was very sweet and soft to hear. But it was clear to me that she had other more important things to say by side of this gossip. Ippolito also perceived it: for he sagaciously nodded his head, smiling in silence.

  The tyrant continued, saying:

  “Thou goest at noon to dine with Our Most Blessed Father, o Cardinal of Ferrara. His Blessedness is very lonely, very grave. He taketh hardly the defect of the Vicechancellor, whom He hath loved much: for He cannot see that Sforza needs must stand by Sforza in these horrid quarrels. As for those Keltic invaders, He saith that the end is not yet: that, though they go now, anon they will return: that there will be war, perhaps during iij months, but not in the City: but that there first will be happenings which will astound the Christian King.”

  Ippolito appended grave nods and impenetrable smiles.

  Madonna Lucrezia again tried to approach the matter which she had in mind, saying:

  “After Lent, o lord cardinal, it is Our intention to dine daily in the gardens of La Magliana[3] to the sound of luths. Madonna Giulia[4] hath brought iiij luthists from Venice; and one is an improvisatore. We therefore beg that thou wilt be Our beadsman, giving Us the benefit of thine holy prayers for fair weather after Eastertide.”

  Ippolito conceded a gesture of assent. What was the use of a cardinal-deacon, excepting to pray for fair weather for fair ladies who were minded to dine in gardens, his aspect seemed to say. Having obtained so small a boon, the tyrant (womanlike) instantly demanded a great one, saying:

  “And now, o Cardinal of Ferrara, We desire to hear thy news.”

  To whom he responded, saying:

  “Since yesterday, divers strange things have happened. One of Our athletes, by race a Dacian, hath been murdered; and his murderer even now is tolerating torment before strangulation.”

  Madonna Lucrezia interrupted, saying:

  “The news which We desire are not of that nasty species.”

  Ippolito added:

  “There are not any news of affairs known to Us, save those of Our family and those which Thine Exalted Tranquillity hath named.”

  Madonna Lucrezia looked him up and down. She would try the effect of a taunt; and continued, saying:

  “Our Most Blessed Father sitteth in the Castle of Santangelo, dumb, but smiling at His thoughts. Of what pleasant thing is He thinking? There is not anyone in the City who will respond to Our inquiries. The others, perchance, cannot: but thou canst and wilt not, o Cardinal of Ferrara.”

  She was becoming indignant, but sorry. A dark woman never ought to inflame herself with anger, by cause that the black or the brown of her hair and the red of her rage are the colours of our old enemy, the devil: but fury augmenteth the beauty of a fair woman to the highest degree, for it brighteneth the clear blue of her eyes, while the poppy-colour of her face is exquisitely allied with t
he straw-colour of her hair. At such a moment, she resembleth a joyful field ready for reaping; and happy is the youth who is bold enough to reap.

  Ippolito was a little confused; but he used himself serenely enough, saying that (for his part) he was willing but unable.

  The tyrant no longer restrained her spleen. She spoke, while her fair cheeks flamed, scornfully saying:

  “It is well known to Us that the Cardinal of Ferrara doth profess himself to be the friend of the Cardinal of Valencia. Our mind telleth Us also that the said Cesare is this day in some dire peril, having gone away with that very abominable Keltic king. Wherefore We should have thought that the Cardinal of Ferrara, having so many vigorous familiars in his hand, would be doing something for the safety of his friend. Or are all these mighty and magnificent gentlemen merely for show but not for use?”

  And then, o Prospero, my darling little maid burst out incontinent, saying:

  “At least one of the Lord Cardinal’s gentlemen is useful and willing as well as magnificent and mighty and very beautiful, o Exalted Tranquillity.”

  Everybody shouted with laughter at such effrontery. Her blushes burned her like a fire: but she maintained her situation bravely in front of the other girls; and her eyes glittered like stars, blue-black, brilliantly beaming. I almost believed that she actually saw me: but I kept my face behind the head of a fool, peeping between his hood and the twisted liripipe of the same.

  Madonna Lucrezia changed her posture, with the alacrity of one who findeth that her seat is a nest of scorpions, demanding shrilly, mockingly:

 

‹ Prev