Don Tarquinio: A Kataleptic Phantasmatic Romance (Valancourt eClassics)

by Frederick Rolfe

  “What doth a maid-of-honour know about a cardinal’s beautiful gentlemen?”

  There was a noise at the door; and chamberlains entered announcing:

  “The Exalted Potency of the Princess Sancia d’Aragon Borgia of Squillace.”

  I instantly cuddled Gioffredo’s head as tightly as possible, pressing one wrist into his very wide-open mouth; and, at the same time, despite my fast failing strength, with the other hand I seized him in a certain grip from which no one may move an hair’s breadth. Nor did I release him without a promise of silence, asked in a whisper, granted by green eyes bulging and glaring. Thus we ij stood staring at the form of his wife.

  [1] This was her nickname (Big Jenny), which she commonly bore in accordance with the Roman custom: but her real name was Giovanna de’ Catanei.

  [2] The Lion Inn in Bear Street, a bequest from her deceased husband. Excepting perhaps the sixty Roman patricians, no one in those days thought a whit the worse of a lady for getting her living banaysically than people do now. Madonna de’ Catanei was neither a barmaid nor a female boniface. She was the proprietor of the most celebrated hostelry in Rome; and lived privately on her income in a villa near San Pietro ad Vincula.

  [3] A paparchal villa in the Campagna, ten miles S.E. of Rome, founded by Xystus the Fourth and enlarged by Innocent the Eighth, the predecessor of Alexander the Sixth.

  [4] Giulia (Farnese) Orsini, a lady of the court.

  XVIIII

  She came in with her own galaxy of maids-of-honour, all in black habits, waving her hands and swaying her head distractedly, querulously blaming everybody.

  She was a fat girl, very long in the back, red-haired, white-fleshed; and her eyes resembled those of a bereaved cow. A large nurse stepped closely behind her, carrying a baby swaddled on a board, terribly squealing. This, together with the recriminations now proceeding at the throne, and the occasional howls of the Princess of Squillace, and the shrieking laughter of the crowd, produced a tumult resembling that of Navona at Epiphany.[1]

  Another stool having been set on the dais, the new comers arranged themselves in order.

  Gioffredo’s wife wept loudly until everyone was silent. Then she began to speak, saying:

  “Ah-hoo, o Lord Cardinal, We are come for consolation, ah-hoo, ah-hoo, ah-he-he-he-he. For thou shalt know that Cesare hath gone to Naples; and Our Fredo hath followed him, ah-hoo, ah-hoo, ah-he-he-he-he. We desire to know why. Ah-hoo. We desire to know why. Ah-he-he-he-he-hoo. Now we all will be compelled to sell our jewels. Now we all will be compelled to be ransomed, ah-hoo, ah-hoo. Why hath not Lucrezia prevented Cesare from going? Why hath not this Purpled Person prevented Our Fredo from following? Both those impetuous adolescents were in this very palace during the past night: for Fredo himself said so. And now he hath deserted Us, his most loving wife; and hath ridden after Cesare with a mere handful of an escort, and on swift horses, ah-hoo. Three hours ago, We missed him. Four hours and who knoweth how much more, have We been a widow, and Our baby but a month old, a-hoo, a-hoo. Lord Cardinal, We desire Our husband. Ah-he-he-he-he-hoo. Hoo.”

  She tottered toward the large nurse; and set herself to moo over her baby, mumbling it with her lips from time to time. I wished for the death of the brat and its mother: for I feared that I should not be able to restrain Gioffredo much longer. That prince was wriggling like a clean dolphin.

  Ippolito’s visage showed the extreme discomfort of his mind.

  The Tyrant Lucrezia spat out a sentence, saying:

  “We are unable to treat such people with patience. Women do not become widows every time when their husbands run after the soldiers. Hath not Our Own husband gone to assist his cousin, Duke Lodovico Sforza-Visconti of Milan, and the Kelts,[2] some months ago, before these wars began? And is there any Roman temerarious enough, or suburban enough, to denominate Alexander’s daughter Widow on that count?”

  The Princess Sancia bewailed herself, saying that she wanted her Fredo.

  But now indeed Gioffredo began to jump about, disturbing the people whose bodies had concealed us; and I was totally unable to hold him. For, having broken away from me, he bounded towards his wife, very agitated, roaring like Stentor. And, at the same moment, Ippolito, catching a glimpse of me, emitted tremendous shouts of welcome, calling me by name.

  But mine eyes were directed toward my maid. Now that this long (and, as I think, rather silly) period of concealment at length was concluded, I had no thoughts in my breast save of her who, unknowingly, had nerved me to my great exploit. Wherefore, there being no longer any cause for secrecy, I attempted to rush to her.

  But it became clear that I could do no more than limp, slowly, painfully, very ungracefully; and, when vij paces had extricated me from the crowd, placing me alone in the empty space in the middle of the audience-chamber, where I instantly felt myself to be the target for the arrows of more than dccc eyes, then I suddenly remembered that my yellow-silver hair was knotted in an abominable night-cap, that the flesh of my body and limbs was a great deal more than half-naked, that I stank most indelicately, that I was besmirched and begrimed from head to foot with sweat and mire and every kind of uncleanness.

  Such a terrific piece of knowledge caused me to utter yells, and to bolt (like a rabbit into his burrow) through the tapestried door at the side of the audience-chamber. Tumults of laughter pursued me; and lent wings to my flight.

  [1] The Epiphany Fair in the Square of Navona, where everybody screeches and blows tin horns.

  [2] The Sforza were siding with Gaul.

  XX

  Having made shift to get as far as the threshold of my proper antechamber, my limbs failed me there; and I sank to the ground.

  The way through the palace was long and devious. All the family was in the audience-chamber; and I encountered no assistant on my painful passage.

  I was so utterly exhausted that I ceased to care for anything at all; and the mind in my breast advised me to lie still, until such time when my servitors should come to me. For, it being known that I had returned to the palace, I did not doubt but that search would be made for me.

  That antechamber, o Prospero, was a very long room panelled with slabs of lapis-lazuli and malachite. The ceiling of it was painted with the images of the Divine Hylas struggling with the nymphs. I deliberated that my maid was fairer than any of these; and I wondered what she might be doing at that moment.

  The sunlight streamed in through the row of windows which abutted on the court, brightening the gilding of the cornice. On the other side all the outer doors of my divers chambers stood open; but I continued to lie where I was on the very threshold of the antechamber, happy, drowsy, not anxious to go further.

  Anon, a posse of my familiars came running up the stairs behind me, moaning and shouting commiseration for my condition: who, having carried me into the bathing-chamber, stripped me, and began to perform their office. And now indeed my mind devised new schemes; and I became most anxious for instant restoration of my normal aspect. Wherefore, I condemned them for a parcel of fools and lazy oaves; and I issued divers peremptory commandments.

  Pages galloped hither and thither to and from the wardrobe, bringing towels, ewers of various waters, and all the apparatus of washing, with numerous ceremonial garments, trays of jewels, flasks of the quintessence of southernwood, and the paraphernalia of mine estate.

  While my flesh was being scrubbed, I selected a certain very singular new habit, which, by the benignance of my stars, I had caused to be made, when I first entered the City, for just such an occasion as the present appeared likely to be. For now my mind was persuaded that but one more turn of Divine Fortune’s wheel would bring me to the top. But here my meditations were interrupted.

  Ippolito with the Tyrant Lucrezia, and Gioffredo with the Princess Sancia, and mine own maid with all the company, came bounding up the stair inquiring for me.

  A gesture from the chamberlains at my door kept them in the antechamber. The said door was not quite shut; and, having p
ut my wet hair away from mine eyes, I was able (through the crevice) to see Gioffredo and his wife going to the embrasure of one of the windows. There they sat down, billing and cooing: but the others, unseen by me, began to bombard me with questions.

  Ippolito vociferated, saying:

  “Gioffredo saith that thou hast done that which thou didst set out to do. Tell us of the same, o Sideynes.”

  To whom I briefly responded (for, at the moment, the page on the stool was deluging me with hot water), saying:

  “Pietrogorio hath received both messages; and he desireth nothing better than to die for the Cardinal of Valencia, o Hebe.”

  But, when I had said this, I noted that my servitors were wearing a rather desperate aspect: nor durst they give more than deprecating gestures and sad imploring glances to my prompt interrogations. Wherefore, having commanded them to bring mirrors, I placed myself between the same in order that I might examine my person. What I saw on the flesh of my back caused me to utter certain very fervent objurgations.

  The people in the antechamber with one voice instantly demanded the cause of mine anger.

  To whom I indignantly responded, saying that the cyphers evidently were indelible: for vigorous scrubbing with hot water and lupin-meal only rendered my white flesh whiter, but the diagram itself remained clearly grey. It was a terrific predicament.

  A certain page suggested an application of pumice: but I indignantly denied him, not being willing to have my smooth flesh roughened and ruined.

  Those friends of mine in the antechamber cackled with laughter at my discomfiture; and Madonna Lucrezia implored me to exhibit the accursed inscription. Ippolito also placed a similar request: to whose voice all the others added theirs.

  My pages having swathed me in dry sheets (covering me from head to foot like a shrouded cadaver but exposing my back), I placed myself for a few moments in the open doorway. Everybody giggled; and came near. I heard their snuffling gasps of exclamation; and felt the warm breath of the heads which stooped to gaze. No one was able to read the cyphers. These be they, o Prospero.

  The Tyrant Lucrezia instantly averred that this was a lovely device for embroidering in gold on the front of a bodice, and that such a work would drive the plain Marchioness of Mantua mad with envy.

  Ippolito, having traced the grey lines slowly with the tip of a loving finger (for so I felt it to be), stated an opinion that this was the kabbalistic character invented by Messer Honorios, formerly of Thebes, which Cesare was known to have taken from that erudite Gothic boy called Enrico Cornelio Agrippa von Nettesheim, who now is a councillor of the Emperor. In this case, he said, no one could read it save Cesare only and his proper familiars. As for the defilement of my flesh, he said, it no doubt would wear off in time.

  And then I rejoiced very greatly: for I heard the dear little voice of my maid, saying:

  “We will offer most fervent prayers that the lord cardinal’s prediction may not lack fulfilment.”

  At which words Madonna Lucrezia suddenly turned to examine the last speaker, instantly becoming agog for match-making. In her opinion, so she said, so beautiful a gentleman was fit to be anybody’s husband.

  Ippolito put in a salient word about the Great Ban.

  That, she said, could not be permitted to run longer in despite of such an one as I had shown myself to be. For which cause, she said, the beautiful and blameless gentleman in the doorway instantly must hasten to the Castle of Santangelo with the present company, in order to tell all the tale to our Lord the Paparch Himself.

  I howled with delight; and, having leaped forward into my secret chambers, I commanded the pages to indue me with mine habits using extreme celerity.

  Ippolito cried out, inquiring whether Pietrogorio had read the cypher message to me, demanding also what the said noble was going to do.

  To whom I responded, saying that His Nobility had read the inscription as signifying: “Statim adveniunt Gallicani, cum iis ego, obses retentus: fac ut exquiras, et auxilium praestes—The Gallicans are upon thee, with me as their hostage; find me, and lend succour:” and the autograph, “C. Caral de Valencia.” Also I said that I was ignorant of Pietrogorio’s plans, knowing only that he had sent me to buy up all the horses at the posthouse of Cinthyanum in Cesare’s name. And I added that the said adolescent, in my judgment, was not only a very Odysseys for deep-scheming, but also a gentleman with whom it would be safe to play odd-and-even in the dark.

  Having pondered these words, Ippolito began to have an inkling of Pietrogorio’s plan. So he said. For there are but ij leagues between Velletri and Cinthyanum, which last city doth belong to Rome; and, if Cesare could get there and find himself master of all means of transit, he would have no difficulty in effecting a speedy return. But those ij leagues were the crux of the affair. Such was Ippolito’s sentence.

  The Tyrant Lucrezia delivered herself of another opinion. She said that Cesare was a beast, a fine beast, an admirable beast, an irresistible beast, and just now a necessary (nay) an indispensable beast. And she was quite certain that he would contrive to cover those ij leagues.

  But, at the moment of speaking, at length I escaped from my pages, radiant, delicate, princely, in a habit of state.

  XXI

  I came out into the antechamber, very vivid, very vigorous, for fatigue seemed to have left my limbs, very pale and clean, for I was myself again, very grand-eyed, for lovely pleasant things were waiting for me to look upon them. My smooth hair was glittering like a cocoon, sunlit, delicate. My garb was shining silk, white as pearls, adorned with silver set with great cabochon moonstones. The armorials of mine house were emblazoned on my breast, not in our ordinary tinctures of white and red but in white and black, videlicet Luna and Saturn party per pale, a cross potent party per pale Saturn and Luna.[1]

  Everybody made haste to inspect me.

  Ippolito said that he never had seen these habits before.

  To whom I responded, saying that I had had them prepared secretly for the day when I should come face to face with our Lord the Paparch; and that they bore a certain signification. I in fact had made myself as it were a book which His Sanctity might read. He would see youth and strength and ability: He would see the candid whiteness of innocence: He would see the blazon of mine house blackened by the Great Ban, whitening with the dawn of hope. But, having said these things, I became conscious of the eyes of my maid, a few paces away, gazing upon me with adoration: at whom I instantly precipitated myself, forgetting the others.

  Madonna Lucrezia put in a sentence, saying:

  “All these things are very poetic and pretty; and the beautiful and blameless gentleman certainly is most urbane: but We take pride in Ourself by cause that We are purely practical. Furthermore, all the damage, which is done on this orb of earth, is done either by saying the right things to the wrong person, or the wrong things to the right person. These admirable words ought not to be uttered to Us, but to Our Most Blessed Father. Wherefore, the present company instantly must go to the Castle of Santangelo. Boy! Litters! At the Vatican, a division shall be made, not to embarrass Our Most Blessed Father with a show of force. The Cardinal of Ferrara hath the right of demanding a boon, by cause that he provided the swift runner. The beautiful and blameless gentleman hath an equal right, by cause that he ran swiftly. Let those ij demand their said boons. If they win them, well. In any case, after dinner, when Our Most Blessed Father is in a good humour and will concede anything for the sake of being left to His afternoon nap, then We Ourself and Our well-beloved brother, Don Gioffredo, will enter The Presence prepared to intercede. But the Lord Alexander is just and gentle; and He will be propitious. Litters! Boy! Litters!”

  Half a score of pages fled down the stair with Her Tranquillity’s commandments. No one said any more: for there was nothing more to be said. Our several families began to collect themselves, while we washed our fingers; and anon we left the antechamber in due order.

  In the courtyard, the tyrant and the princess and their maid
s ascended the litters: but we others took horse in full state; and so we set forth, a very grand procession, but not unusual in those old days, o my parthenean Prospero, when a pageant of princes going to pay respects to the Pontifex Maximus was common enough.

  We went by Lungara. I rode by side of Ippolito. We both were silent, pondering the matter in hand.

  As we passed the great Riarj Palace on the left, where the white-faced cardinal was entertaining The Beloved,[2] I said:

  “They say that one liveth there who knoweth more Greek than We do.”

  It was a silly irrelevant word, uttered only by cause that I did not wish to seem either sulky or afraid. Ippolito shook his head, soberly saying:

  “No one knoweth more Greek than thou, o Sideynes.”

  Thereafter we rode without speaking. I knew that I was as nervous as a February sparrow, jipping and flirting, and liable to twitter entirely automatically. For which cause I set myself to consider who I was, and what I had done, and how extremely notable mine aspect was. I contemplated myself, my mind, my body, my qualities, capabilities, exploits, desires. I also called to remembrance the benignance of my stars. And behold it was all very good. So we came to Vatican.

  Nothing disturbed me. Nothing ever again would disturb me. Was I not riding in triumph, to the Giver of Bays?

  [1] Really, this is just like Don Tarquinio’s naive arrogance. Instead of being content with the ordinary nomenclature of his tinctures (Argent and Sable), disdaining even the form used by peers (Pearl and Diamond), he needs must use the terms which are employed only in blazoning the armorials of a sovereign! Certainly his lineage has no equal in this world. But——! Well——! There——!