CHAPTER XIII.
Milan had its attractions even for the gay court of France. It was adevout and dissolute city; and we know how jovially, in some countriesand at some times, dissoluteness and devotion have contrived to jog ontogether. Pastime and penitence, pleasure and penance, alternatedamong the courtiers of Charles VIII. with very agreeable variety; andit has been whispered that the young king himself was not unwillingeither to finger forbidden fruit, or to express contrition afterward.At all events, he wasted many precious days in the Lombard capital.Morning after morning, fresh detachments of his army were sent forwardto Pavia, till that city might be considered in possession of histroops; but still the young king lingered, and it was not till ninedays after the events we have recorded in the last two or threechapters that the main host of France took its way southward.
How passed the intermediate time with those we have left in the Villade Rovera? It was very sweetly. We must not dwell upon it, because itwas so sweet; but a few words will tell all. Lorenzo almost longed toremain an invalid, that there might be a fair excuse for Leonora'stending; and Leonora feared to see him recover health and strength toosoon, lest the order to depart should hurry him away.
Strange tales are told of the effects of Italian poisons in thosedays, and doubtless much exaggeration mingles with all the accounts wehave received, but certain it is, that, though the youth recoveredsteadily, each day gaining a little, yet his convalescence was slow,and the subtle bane of Buondoni's sword was more or less felt for manyafter days. Still no order to march arrived, but every day, aboutnoon, the good Lord de Vitry rode over, well attended, from Pavia toinquire after the health of his young friend; and although it iscertain that Leonora could have given him more minute accounts ofLorenzo's state, and the old Count de Rovera could have furnished himwith juster and more scientific views of Lorenzo's progress towardsrecovery, it was always Bianca Maria he first asked for. He speedilybecame a great favorite with the old count nevertheless. There wassomething in his frank, soldier-like bearing that pleased, andsomething in his ever merry conversation that amused the old man, sothat he began to wish the day far distant when the noble Lord of Vitrywould come no more.
Bianca Maria was very happy too, and she gave the rein to happinesswithout fear. Neither she nor De Vitry ever dreamed that he was makinglove. She thought herself too young to be the object of passion, andhe thought so too. He fancied he should like to have a daughter justlike herself, without the slightest change in thought or look--hewould not have had a word she said altered--he would not have partedwith one ringlet from her head; and she pictured to herself howpleasant it would have been to have an elder brother just like DeVitry.
At the house of the contadino all went on favourably likewise. Antoniovisited the place every day, till at length, one morning early, hewalked forth with a sandaled friar, who passed round the wall of thepodere with him, and mounted a mule which was held by a littlepeasant-boy. Some ten minutes after, a troop of twenty French lancesrode slowly on towards Pavia, and the friar, by Antonio'sintercession, was permitted to join himself to the band. The contadinoand the contadino's wife were for once satisfied with the same thing.
At length, however, the eventful day arrived when the King of Francecommenced his march from Milan against Naples. Drum, and trumpet, andpennon, and banderol, and long lines of glittering lances, andgorgeous surcoats, and splendid suits of armour, passed along the roadwithin sight of the Villa Rovera, and though no absolute order hadarrived commanding Lorenzo to join his troop and assume the commandwhich had been bestowed upon him, yet, as he gazed upon the passinghost from the higher windows, he felt that duty required him to lingerno longer, and that the next day, at the latest, he was bound to tearhimself away from those who, in the short space of a few weeks, hadbecome so dear to him. He felt sad; and yet there was something to ayoung and eager mind like his, in the inspiring sight of militaryarray, which had its consolatory influence. He thought of acquiringglory and renown for Leonora's sake, and returning to her with brightfame and a glorious name, with a proud consciousness of courage and ofskill in arms. "If we must part--" he said to himself.
If they were to part! That was the consideration most painful, for hehad flattered himself every day with the hope that the promised letterof Ramiro d'Orco would arrive, giving him authority to escort his fairpromised bride to join her father: and oh! how many enchanted sceneshad Fancy fabricated out of the vague shadows of that expectedjourney! No letter had arrived; the army was on its march; he coulddelay no longer; and the bitterness of disappointment was added to thebitterness of anticipated separation.
The last troopers of the main host of France disappeared; and Leonoragazed in Lorenzo's eyes, knowing, divining what was passing in hisheart, as they stood, together, with Bianca Maria gazing from theneighbouring window.
"You must go, Lorenzo," said the beautiful girl, "you must go, I knowit. Fear not to speak the words; Leonora would not keep you from thepath of fame and honour if she could. It will be very terrible, butstill you must go. I had hoped, indeed--"
"See! see!" cried Bianca Maria: "there are more horsemen coming. It isthe king himself and his court; I remember well the array; and thereis Count Ludovic, on the monarch's left."
Leonora and her lover turned to the window again, and saw the royaltrain sweep on towards them. But suddenly the king drew in his reinjust opposite the gates. He did not dismount; but a horseman dashedout from the escort, and rode into the court-yard of the villa.
"It is the order," said Lorenzo, in a low voice, "it is the order, andI must run down to receive it."
The two lovely girls followed him quickly; for theirs was an age whennature's impulses have not been curbed and disciplined, restrained andchecked, either by the iron rules of a factitious state of society orthe harder and more terrible shackles of experience. At the bottom ofthe great staircase he found the old Count of Rovera speaking with oneof the king's officers, out of whose mouth he took the words of themonarch's message, saying, as soon as he saw Lorenzo, "His Majesty theKing of France, my young cousin, desires your presence without. He hasnot time to dismount, this noble gentleman tells me, otherwise hewould have honoured our poor house by his presence."
Lorenzo hurried away unbonneted, and the count, looking with a smileat his cousin and granddaughter, said gaily:
"Now would I wager this jewel against a fool's bauble that you girlswould give your ears to hear the conference. If so, take the richpeaches Giovanozzo brought just now--one take them on the gold salver,and let the other carry out a cup of our best wine to refresh themonarch after his long ride."
But there is an innate modesty which requires no teaching of art, andLeonora answered:
"I pray you excuse me, sir; they are all men there without, and weshould blush to obtrude ourselves upon the gaze of so many eyes."
As she spoke a warm glow came upon the face of Bianca Maria, but itwas not her cousin's words that called it there. A shadow darkened thedoorway, and the sound of a step well-known to the young girl's earwas heard, which brought the joyous blood from the heart to the cheekin a moment.
"I have stolen away," said De Vitry, "like a thief, and I have been athief, too, sweet ladies, and my noble lord. Just before I set outfrom Pavia to meet the king, a courier came from Bologna; and, goodfaith, when I found out what he carried, I made free to rob him of hisbags, not knowing who else might finger them. That letter for you, mylord count--that for you, Signora Leonora; and here is one also forVisconti, which I may as well trust to you also, very sure you willdeliver it safely."
"And none for me?" asked Blanche Marie, with a faint smile.
"None--only a message," said De Vitry, while the others busiedthemselves with their letters they had received; and, as he spoke, hedrew the fair young girl aside, adding, "I must deliver it quickly,for I must be back ere I am missed."
What he said to her in that low whisper, who shall tell? Her cheekturned pale, and then glowed crimson red, and her knees shook, and herlips
quivered, so as to stop the words that struggled for utterance,and yet there was joy in her eyes. It was as if he had given her thekey of some treasury in her own heart which overwhelmed her with thefirst sight of the riches within.
"A soldier's love, a soldier's hand, a noble name, an honourablename--that is all I have to offer," were the words of De Vitry. "Iknow I am nearly old enough to be your father; but if you don't mindthat, I don't."
He paused a moment as if for an answer, while Blanche Marie stoodstill trembling and silent; and, with a shade upon his broad, frankbrow, he was turning away, when she murmured:
"Stay! stay!" and, drawing the glove from her hand, she put it intohis.
"I will carry it into the cannon's mouth," he said, hiding it in hisscarf; and then he kissed her hand, and returned to the old count andher fair cousin. "Lady, I must go," he said, taking Leonora's glovedhand, and bending over it. "My lord the count, farewell. We shall allmeet again soon, I hope; and, in the meantime, you shall hear no evilof De Vitry, unless some of those foul cannon shot carry off his head.Adieu! adieu!"
In the meantime, Lorenzo had hurried forth, and stood by the side ofthe king's horse. Charles gazed kindly at him, and inquired after hishealth, while Ludovic the Moor bent his eyes upon him, but withoutsuffering the slightest shade of enmity to cross his face.
"How goes it with you, fair cousin?" asked the king: "think you thatyou are able to ride on with the army towards Naples in a day or two?"
"Quite able, sir," answered the young man; "to-morrow, if it should beyour Majesty's pleasure."
"Pale--pale," said the monarch, who seemed to have been studying hiscountenance. "Is that with loss of blood, Lorenzo, or the venom of thesword?"
"I lost little blood, sire," answered the young man; "but the poisonwas very deadly, and required both skill and careful nursing to bringme through with life."
"Now curses upon the foul heart and foul mind," exclaimed the youngking, "that first conceived so dastardly a wickedness as that ofsmearing a good honest sword-blade with a deadly drug."
The face of Ludovic the Moor turned somewhat white, and his lipcurled.
"Your Majesty's curse," he said, "must go somewhat far back, andsomewhat low down; for the art was invented long ago, and the man whoinvented it, if he is to be damned at all, is very well damned by thistime."
"Well, then, my curse shall have greater extent, noble sir," repliedthe king, frowning; "I will add--and curses be upon every one who usessuch dark treachery."
The regent did not reply, but there were very angry feelings in hisheart; and it is probable that nothing but the knowledge that thedominions over which he ruled, and which he intended should soon behis own in pure possession, were absolutely at the mercy of the Frenchking's soldiery, prevented him from seeking vengeance. Indeed, nothingbut fear can account for a man so unscrupulous having endured themortifications which Charles inflicted upon him during the French stayin Lombardy; but it must be remembered that not only were many of histowns and castles in possession of the French, and others without anypreparation for resistance, but that his own person was every hourwithin reach of the French swords, and that, though not quite aprisoner in his own court, he might become so any moment, if heexcited suspicion or gave offence to the young monarch. He endured insilence then, and treasured his vengeance for a future day.
An unpleasant pause succeeded; and then Charles, turning to Lorenzo,continued the conversation, saying, "So you think yourself quite readyto ride. Well, then, join us to-morrow at Pavia, Lorenzo. Methinks noone, however high his station, will venture to assail you when nearour own person. Yet, as it is evident from what has already happened,that some one in this land would fain remove you to a better, youshall have a guard with you, and must not walk the streets of Paviaunattended. Where is De Vitry? We will give orders for a part of yourtroop in his company to join you here to-night."
"He has gone into the villa for a moment, sire," replied Lorenzo, "forthe purpose, I believe, of bidding adieu to the good old count, as Ipresume your majesty marches on speedily."
"Nay, he will have plenty of time hereafter," said Charles; "I shallnot leave Pavia for some days. I have matters to inquire into; but, inthe mean time, I will give orders for the men to join you to-night;and methinks a score of French lances will be sufficient to protectyou from any number of Buondonis who may be inclined or hired toassassinate you."
There was an insulting tone of superiority in the young king's voiceand manner, which could not have been very sweet to the RegentLudovic, but he seemed still to pay no attention to the monarch'swords, gazing forward on the road without change of countenance, as ifbusy with his own thoughts.
"Ah! here comes De Vitry," said the young king. "Mount, mount, my lordmarquis. Adieu, my fair cousin Lorenzo. I will give the orders;" and,thus saying, he rode on.
Lorenzo saw the train depart and pass away, receiving many agood-natured greeting from old friends in the king's suite as it filedoff along the road. When he returned to the vestibule of the villawith a somewhat gloomy heart, he found the old Count of Rovera, withthe two young girl's, still there and apparently in earnestconversation; but Leonora exclaimed, as soon as she saw him, "Whenmust you go, Lorenzo?"
"To-morrow," said the young man sadly.
"Oh, then you will have plenty of time," exclaimed Blanche Marie,addressing her beautiful cousin.
"To do what?" asked Lorenzo.
"To get ready to go with you," answered Leonora, "if you will betroubled with such a companion. Here is a letter for you from myfather which will probably explain all. I have had another from him,telling me to come on with you, and join him at Bologna, if you have asufficient train to render our journey secure; but he says there islittle or no danger by the way."
The old Count of Rovera shook his head with a disapproving look,murmuring, "Mighty great danger on the way, I think. On my life, Ibelieve Ramiro is mad; but I must admonish the youth strictly beforehe goes, and take care that she has plenty of women about her."
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