The Making of a Saint

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The Making of a Saint Page 35

by W. Somerset Maugham


  XXXIV

  Next day I insisted on getting up. Andrea helped me to dress, and wewent out together.

  'No one would mistake you for a gentleman to-day,' he laughed.

  My clothes were shabby enough in the first instance, and in the scuffleof the previous day they had received usage which did not improve them;moreover, I had a two days' beard, and my head muffled up in bandages,so that I could well imagine that my appearance was not attractive. ButI was too sore at heart to smile at his remark, or make retort. I couldnot help thinking of the terrible scene which awaited us.

  We found the piazza crowded. Opposite the Riario Palace was erected astage on which were seats, but these were empty. The sky was blue, thesun shone merrily on the people, and the air was soft and warm. Naturewas full of peace and goodwill; but in men's hearts was lust ofblood.... A flourish of trumpets announced the approach of Caterina andher suite. Amid ringing cheers she entered the square, accompanied byher half-brother, the Duke of Milan, and by the Protonotary Savello.They took their seats on the platform, the Duke on her right, Savello onher left. She turned to the priest and talked most amiably to him; hesmiled and bowed, but his agitation was shown by the twitching of hishands fidgeting with the lappet of his cloak.

  A beating of drums was heard, followed by a sudden silence. A guard ofsoldiers entered the piazza, tramping steadily with heavy footsteps;then two steps behind them a single figure, without a doublet, hatless,his shirt all torn, his hands tied behind his back. It was MarcoScorsacana. The foul mob broke out into a yell at the sight of him; hewalked slowly, but with his head proudly erect, paying no heed to thehooting and hissing which rang in his ears. On each side walked abarefooted monk, bearing a crucifix.... He was followed by another troopof soldiers, and after them came another bare-headed figure, his handsalso tied behind his back; but he kept his head bent over his chest andhis eyes fixed on the ground, shrinking at the yells of derision. PoorPietro! He, too, was accompanied by the solemn monks; the procession wasfinished by the drummers, beating their drums incessantly, maddeningly.

  They advanced to the platform, and there, the soldiers falling back, theprisoners were left standing before their judges.

  'Marco Scorsacana and Pietro Albanese,' said the Countess, in a clear,calm voice, 'you have been found guilty of murder and treason; and as itwas you who cast the body of my dear husband out of the Palace windowon to the hard stones of the piazza, so you are sentenced to be hangedfrom that same window, and your bodies cast down on to the hard stonesof the piazza.'

  A murmur of approval came from the populace. Pietro winced, but Marcoturned to him and said something which I could not hear; but I saw theglance of deep affection, and the answering smile of Pietro as he seemedto take courage.

  The Countess turned to Savello.

  'Do you not agree that the judgment is just?'

  'Most just!' he whispered.

  'The protonotary says, "Most just!"' she called aloud, so that allshould hear. The man winced.

  Marco looked at him scornfully, and said, 'I would ten times rather bein my place than in yours.'

  The Countess smiled at the priest and said, 'You see, I carry out thewill of God in doing unto others as they themselves have done.'

  She made a sign, and the two men were led to the Palace and up thestairs. The window of the Hall of Nymphs was thrown open, and a beamthrust out, to which was attached a rope. Pietro appeared at the window,with one end of the rope round his neck.

  'Good-bye, sweet friend,' he said to Marco.

  'Good-bye, Pietrino,' and Marco kissed him.

  Then two men hurled him from the sill, and he swung in mid-air; ahorrible movement passed through his body, and it swayed from side toside. There was a pause; a man stretched out with a sword and cut therope. From the people came a huge shout, and they caught the body as itfell and tore it to pieces. In a few minutes Marco appeared at thewindow, but he boldly sprang out into space, needing no help. In alittle while he was a hanging corpse, and in a little while more the mobhad fallen on him like wolves. I hid my face in my hands. It was awful!Oh, God! Oh, God!

  Then another beating of drums broke through the tumult. I looked up,wondering what was coming. A troop of soldiers entered the square, andafter them an ass led by a fool with bells and bauble; on the ass was amiserable old man, Orso Orsi.

  'Oh,' I groaned. 'What are they going to do to him?'

  A shout of laughter burst from the mob, and the clown flourished hisbauble and bowed acknowledgments from side to side. A halt was madebefore the stage, and Caterina spoke again.

  'Orso Orsi. You have been sentenced to see your palace destroyed beforeyour eyes--stone by stone.'

  The people shouted, and a rush was made for the Orsi Palace. The old mansaid nothing and showed no sign of hearing or feeling. I hoped that allsensation had left him. The procession moved on until it came to the oldhouse, which stood already like a wreck, for the pillagers had leftnothing which could be moved. Then the work began, and stone by stonethe mighty building was torn to pieces. Orso looked on indifferently atthe terrible work, for no greater humiliation can be offered to theItalian nobleman than this. The Orso Palace had stood three hundredyears, and the most famous architects, craftsmen and artists had workedon it. And now it was gone.

  The old man was brought back into the piazza, and once more the cruelwoman spoke.

  'You have received punishment for yourself, Orso, and now you are toreceive punishment for your son. Make room!'

  And the soldiers, repeating her words, cried,--

  'Make room!'

  The people were pushed and hustled back till they were crammed againstthe house walls, leaving in the centre an enormous empty space. Then aflourish of trumpets, and the people made an opening at the end of thesquare to allow the passage of a horse and man, the horse--a huge blackstallion--prancing and plunging, and on each side a man was holding thebridle. On his back sat a big man, dressed all in flaming red, and a redhood covered his head and face, leaving two apertures for the eyes. Ahorrified whisper ran round the square.

  'The hangman!'

  In the centre of the piazza he stopped. Caterina addressed the Orso.

  'Have you anything to say, Orso Orsi?'

  At last he seemed to hear, he looked at her and then, with all thestrength he had, hurled the word at her,--

  'Bastard!'

  She flushed angrily and made a sign. Two men seized the old man anddragged him off the mule; they caught hold of his legs, throwing him tothe ground, and with a thick rope tied his ankles together.

  At this I understood. I was seized with sudden horror, and I cried out.Obeying a sudden impulse, I started forward; I don't know what I wasgoing to do; I felt I must protect him or die with him. I startedforward, but Andrea threw his arms round me and held me back.

  'Let me go,' I said, struggling.

  'Don't be a fool!' he whispered. 'What can you do against all these?'

  It was no use; I gave way. Oh, God! that I should stand by and see thisawful thing and be utterly powerless. I wondered the people could sufferthis last atrocity; I thought they must scream and rush to save thewretched man. But they watched--they watched eagerly....

  By his feet they dragged him to the horse, and the end of the rope roundhis ankles they tied to the horse's tail and about the rider's waist.

  'Ready?' cried the hangman.

  'Yes!' answered the soldiers.

  They all sprang back; the hangman dug the spurs into his horse. Thepeople gave a huge shout, and the fiery beast went careering round thesquare at full tilt. The awful burden dragging behind terrified him, andwith head strained forward and starting eyes he galloped madly. The moburged him on with cries, and his rider dug the spurs in deeply; thepavement was scattered with blood.

  God knows how long the wretched man lived. I hope he died at once. Atlast the brute's furious career was stopped, the ropes were cut, thecorpse fell back, and, the people again making passage, horse and riderdisappeared. In the midd
le of the piazza, in a pool of blood, lay ashapeless mass. It was ordered that it should be left there tillnightfall as an example to evildoers.

  Andrea wanted to come away, but I insisted on staying to see whathappened more. But it was the end, for Caterina turned to Savello andsaid,--

  'I do not forget that all power comes from God, Monsignor, and I wishsolemnly to render thanks to the Divine Majesty, who has saved me, mychildren and the State. Therefore, I shall order a grand processionwhich shall march round the town and afterwards hear mass at thecathedral.'

  'It shows, madam,' replied Savello, 'that you are a pious and trulyChristian woman.'

 

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