CHAPTER XXV.
In a small but richly-decorated room in Naples sat three gentlemen inthe picturesque, the beautiful costume of the times. Two were mereyouths compared with the other, and yet he was a man far on the sunnyside of middle age. Before them was a table bearing upon it driedfruits and some wine; and many vases of fair flowers were placed uponthe board and in different angles of the chamber. The expression onthe countenance of each was somewhat grave, but it was more strikingon that of the elder man, as his face and features were, even when atrest, of a playful turn, gay, frank, and beaming.
"I do not like this, my young friends," he said, in a very serioustone, "I do not like this at all," and he drank off another silvercupful of the wine.
"You seem to like it well, Seigneur do Vitry," said one of the youngmen--"that is to say, if you mean the wine; you have drunk more than Ihave ever seen you drink before."
"I have the drunkard's ever-ready excuse, De Terrail," answered DeVitry; "I drink to drive away care. But I did not mean the wine; it isgood enough, I believe. What I meant was, I do not like this state ofaffairs here in Naples, and I asked you two boys to dine with me totalk with you about it. Why, I believe we three seated here are theonly men left reasonable in this city--the only three Frenchmen, Ishould have said; but that will not do either, for one of us is not aFrenchman by birth; at all events, I may say the only three of theking's army."
"As for these Neapolitans, they are, I believe, all born mad, so thereis no use taking them into the account at all. Now Lorenzo isreasonable. He is in love; it is the most sobering thing in the world.I am reasonable from perhaps somewhat the same cause; but as to you,De Terrail, I do not understand how you came to retain your senseswhen men with white beards lose theirs, unless it be something in yournature, for you are too perfect a knight not to be proud of your love,if you had one."
"Well, seigneur," replied Bayard, "it is not my place to find faultwith my elders; my only business is to govern my men and my ownconduct aright, but yet I cannot but say with you that I do not likethis."
"And I as little as either," said Lorenzo; "his Majesty surely cannotknow all that is taking place here. He cannot be aware that we aredaily losing both the respect and affection of the people. Why, whenfirst we arrived, they seemed almost ready to worship us, and nowevery man one meets is ready to lay his hand upon his dagger."
"Ay, that is natural and common in all countries," said De Vitry;"the common herd are always volatile, one day bowing down to theirfellow-man as an idol, the next day trampling upon him as a dog. Butthe worst of it is, we have given them cause to change. We treat themen like dogs; we consider the women as harlots. We insult men's wivesand their daughters, or do worse, and we kill the husbands andbrothers, or fathers, if they show a regard for their own honour.Sometimes we get killed ourselves, it is true, and 'twere no pity if'twas oftener, but for the thinning of the king's ranks, and there arefew enough of us left, I can tell you. Then see, again, how we pillageand oppress the people? Why, I came suddenly yesterday upon a fellowof a sutler taking away a poor old man's fish without payment, and theold fisherman dancing out of his skin with anguish. I had thescoundrel tied up to the strappado, and made his back acquainted withthe thongs; but what did that matter, when the same thing takes placeevery day unpunished."
"But what you say about their women is the worst," replied Bayard;"they are naturally a jealous people here in Naples, and we certainlydo give them good cause for jealousy. We not only treat them as if wehad conquered them, when, in truth, we have hardly struck a stroke orcrouched a lance, but as if we had made them slaves."
"We should have respected them more if they had fought us better,"said Lorenzo, who had listened without seeming to attend. "Have youheard what the pope says? He declares that King Charles has passedthrough Italy, not sword in hand, but chalk in hand. He means, Isuppose, that we have had nothing to do but to mark out our quarters.That is a hard word for an Italian to speak or an Italian to hear."
"It is very true though, Visconti," said De Vitry. "I wonder what canhave made such a change among the people. The Italian great companiesused to fight us as well or better than any other men in the world."
"It was those great companies themselves which caused the decline of awarlike spirit in the land," said Lorenzo; "at least I think so, mylord. When the prince depends for support on his throne, and thepeasant for protection in his cottage, upon the hands and arms ofmercenaries, the social prospects of a country are very sad. Wealthmay indeed grow up, luxury extend itself, arts be cultivated; but thehardy spirit, the power of endurance, the sense of self-reliance, aregone.
"For many years, here in Italy, the great companies formed the chiefdependence of Italian states, and the company of St. George was theschool of Italian chivalry; but, in the meantime, the people losttheir skill and their courage in war, and when those great companiesmelted away, as they did but a few short years ago, they feltthemselves, like the Britons when abandoned by the Romans, unable todefend themselves against their enemies or to protect their friends."
"Well, really, Lorenzo, I know not how the Britons felt, or when theywere abandoned by the Romans," said De Vitry, laughing. "I am no greatscholar in history, but I know the Britons make very good soldiersnow, as we have felt in France. But let us talk of things not quite sofar away. I fear that while we are enjoying ourselves here, and losingthe love of the people, there are storms gathering in the north, whichmay break pretty hard upon us if we do not mind."
"I know it too well," replied Lorenzo; "I heard the facts first inRome from Cardinal Borgia, and related the whole to the king."
"Ay, C?sar Borgia! C?sar Borgia!" said De Vitry. "I doubt much hisgood faith, and would sooner have him for an enemy than a friend."
"Why so, seigneur?" asked De Terrail. "I would always have men myfriends if I can, my enemies only when I must."
"I will tell you why, good friend," answered De Vitry. "If C?sar weremy enemy, I would cut his throat in ten minutes; if he were my friend,he would poison me in five. But this matter weighs upon my mind, and Ithought that perhaps you, Lorenzo, might do something to awaken theking to the true state of affairs, being admitted so much to hisprivacy."
Lorenzo shook his head almost sadly, saying, "I can do nothing, mylord. As to the licence of our soldiery, the king gives orders whichare not obeyed, and he loves not to hear complaints. As to themenacing state of things in our rear, he depends upon his Highness ofOrleans being able to join us with strong reinforcements. He hasalready passed the Alps, I hear."
"With men enough to give us help were he with us, not to force apassage to us," said De Vitry; "and, by Heaven! it's just as well thathe should not be here at present, for how the duke and the rufflerswho are with him would take what has happened this morning it is hardto say."
"Why, what has happened?" asked Bayard and Lorenzo both together. "Weheard of nothing particular when we rode in from Portici."
De Vitry smiled. "It is nothing very particular now-a-days," he said,"but, by my faith, such things did not often happen when I was yourage, lads. Stephen de Vese, whom we all can remember, the king's valetde chambre, has been made a duke, and has got a nice little slice ofthe Kingdom of Naples to make up his duchy. I wonder what will comenext?"
"But the worst of all is, these witty Neapolitans know all this; andthough they are very sore at seeing every office, and benefice, andconfiscated estate given to Frenchmen, they laugh to see the oldnobility mortified by such acts as this. One saucy fellow said that hethought the king must be a necromancer, for he changed his swine intolions."
"By my faith," said Bayard, "it does not take much to make aNeapolitan lion. Heaven forbid, however, that any of us should grumbleat what the king is pleased to do. But I cannot be so grave, my lord,as you and our friend Lorenzo seem to be. The Duke of Orleans willfight his way through to us, or we to him, depend upon it. Viscontihas been as sad, as solemn all day as a crow in a rain-storm."
"No, no, De Terrail," said Lorenzo,
"I have neither been sad norsolemn, though a little silent, perhaps. The fact is, yesterday wasthe day when my messenger should have returned from Florence, and I amanxious for his arrival."
"Ay, that fellow of yours, Antonio," said De Vitry, laughing, "haslost his way at length, I warrant. I had as near as possible thrownhim into the river once for letting me mislead myself;" and he went onto tell the story of the broken bridge, much to the amusement of histwo companions.
"Hark! there is a horse's feet coming at a gallop," said Bayard."Nothing new going wrong, I trust!" and approaching the window, helooked out into the street; then, turning round his head, he said witha laugh, "The old story of the devil, my good lords. Antonio, on mylife, Lorenzo."
Lorenzo turned a little pale with very natural agitation. Since hisdeparture from Florence he had heard nought of Leonora, and if it isterrible even in these days of comparative security and peace, to bewithout intelligence of those we love--if treacherous imaginationbrings forth from the treasury of Nemesis all the dangers andmisfortunes which surround mortal life, and pile them up on the headof the beloved, how much more dreadful must it have been in thosetimes, when real dangers, perils, and misfortunes without numberdogged the steps of every-day life, and were as glaring and apparentas the sun at noon?
It must be remembered, too, that he was very young; that his earlylife had been clouded with misfortune, teaching the young heart thesad lesson of apprehension; that, since fortune had smiled upon himagain, he had found none to love till he had met with the dear girlwho had given her whole soul to him, and to whom his whole soul hadbeen given in return; that by the very intensity of their passion theystood, as it were, alone and separate from the rest of mankind,relying, dependent upon, and wrapped up in each other, and that forfour long months they had neither seen nor held any communication witheach other. It will be easily understood how, on the return of hiscourier from Florence, agitation shook him to the very soul. He wouldgladly have started up and run down to meet the messenger; but fear ofthe laugh of his companions restrained him, and he sat mastering hisemotions as best he could.
Antonio was not long ere he ascended, however. His horse's bridle wasthrown over the hook in the wall, a few brief words with the servantin the gateway followed, and then his light, agile step was heardcoming up the stairs.
"God save you, my lord!" said Antonio, entering the room, "here is apacket from your fair lady."
"Did you see her? Is she well? Is she happy?" asked Lorenzo, cuttingthe silken threads, which bound the letter, with his dagger.
"I did see her, my lord, and she is quite well, but not happy, thankGod!" said Antonio, in his usual quaint way.
"Not happy?" said Lorenzo, pausing just as he had begun to read; "nothappy?"
"Yes, my lord, not happy. Heaven forbid that she should be over happywhile you are away. Oh, she told me a long and very pitiful tale ofhow miserable she had been, thinking of how often you had been killedand wounded in the great battles and sieges that never took placebetween Rome and Naples. Seven times she dreamed you were dead, andhad all the trouble of burying you over and over again."
"Hush, hush, my good friend Antonio; I am in no mood for suchbantering just now," said Lorenzo, and turned to his letter again.
But the pertinacious Antonio, though he left his young lord to read,could not help pouring forth some of the joyful fun, which welled upin his heart whenever he was the bearer of good news, upon hismaster's young friend, De Terrail.
"By the bones of St. Barnabas!" he said, "the lady was looking sadenough when I first found her out, perched up on the high terraceoverlooking the Mugnione, but when she saw me, she had nearly jumpedout of the window with joy. But when I told her my lord was well, andthat I had brought her a letter from him, I thought she would havekissed me--all for joy too. Well, she did not, or I should not havedared to come back again, for murder and kisses will come out someway."
Lorenzo's face, as he read on, lighted up with an expression ofcomfort and joy such as it had not borne for many a day, and many anemotion, though all happy, passed over his countenance, like thelights and shades of a bright spring day over a sunny landscape.
At length he laid the letter on his knee with a deep sigh, and pausedfor a moment in thought. As for his two companions, Bayard had smiledat Antonio's description of his meeting with Leonora, but De Vitry satgrave and almost stern, with his thoughts apparently far away.
At length Lorenzo woke up from his meditations, and raised the letter,saying, "Here are some lines for you too, Seigneur De Vitry."
"Then, in the fiend's name, why did you not tell me before?" exclaimedDe Vitry, with a start, and looking really angry. "Here have I beensitting this half hour envying you that letter, and you never let meknow that I have a share in it. Read, read, and let me know what itis."
"Tell the Marquis De Vitry," said Lorenzo, reading, "that I have heardfrom my dear cousin Blanche Marie, and that she wishes to know if hewears her glove still, and what fortune it has found. She says, if hehas not forgotten her, and any couriers pass by Pavia, she would fainhear of his health."
"Is that all!" exclaimed De Vitry. "Bless her dear little soul, andher beautiful eyes, that look like two blue mountain lakes reflectingheaven; I have carried her glove wherever it could gain glory; butvery little of that commodity is to be won in this mere marching war,and wherever it does occur, you must needs slip in, Visconti, and takeit all to yourself. I shall have to cut your throat some day in orderto get my own share. Well, I will write to her, though, by the Lord,it is so long since I have handled a pen, that I know not what I shallmake of it. I would send a courier on purpose, if I thought he couldmake his way through that dangerous bit between Florence and Milan."
"He could not do it, my lord," said Antonio, "for the whole countrythere is up in arms, and a courier known to be from the French armycould not pass. I only got through as far as Florence because I had anItalian tongue in my head. I told them I was a servant of CountAscanio Malatesta; and, whether there is such a personage or not inthe world, they let me pass on account of his good name."
"Then we shall have to march back ourselves, as I always thought weshould," said De Vitry, "and I shall be the bearer of my own letter.Well, the sooner the trumpet sounds to horse the better. What say you,De Terrail?"
"The sooner the better, by all means," answered Bayard: "but let ushear a little more of this, my good friend Antonio. You must haveseen a good deal by the way. Cannot you give us a notion how thingsare going?"
"Assuredly, my lord," replied Antonio: "I always wake with both eyesopen, and sleep with only one shut. In the first place, I saw manyfine men and pretty women, and many good towns and strong castles; butI remarked one thing, which was, that most of the men had harness ontheir backs, that the armourer's shops were very busy, and that thework the ladies liked best were embroidered scarfs and sword-knots.Moreover, in those good towns and strong castles the masons were verybusy on the outside walls, and people with teams of oxen were haulingup long tubes, and piling up heavy balls beside them.
"Then, as I passed through Rome, I found that his pious and immaculateHoliness was holding a Consistory, in which, people said, he wasproposing to the cardinals this knotty point, on which he had decidedin his own mind already, viz. whether he should join the leagueagainst the King of France or not? I rode, moreover, with somemessengers journeying from Venice; some addressed to our king fromMonsieur de Commines, and some to the Venetian ambassador here."
"Could you obtain any intelligence from them?" asked De Vitry,eagerly.
"Oh yes, my lord!" said Antonio, with a laugh; "every man has a weakside somewhere, and if I can be but three days with him--as I was withthese men--I have plenty of time to walk round him and find out wherehis weak side is. I pumped out of them all they had to tell when wewere yet two days from Naples, and it amounted to this, that theVenetians joined the league some time ago; that the King of Spain isas far in as any of them; that the emperor is ready to attack the kingon one side
, and Burgundy on the other; so that we may expect a prettywarm reception if we march back, and a pretty hot house if we stayhere."
"By Heaven! you must tell all this to the king," said De Vitry,greatly excited. "Lorenzo, can you--but no! I will do it myself. Whyshould I put upon another what it is my own duty to do? Hark ye,Antonio! be with me this night at seven. I must have audience justbefore his _coucher_, otherwise we shall have a pack of those lazybishops and cardinals with us. On my life, I do think the Cardinal ofRouen must have two or three pretty mistresses in Naples, he is sounwilling to leave it. Can you come, man? speak! for it is true thatevery loyal subject should do his best to rouse Charles from hisapathy. Something must be determined speedily."
"I can, of course, my lord," replied Antonio, more gravely than usual,"if it is Signor Visconti's pleasure to spare me. I shall only have totell Jacques Gregoire to wake me up with one bucket of water, andbring back my scattered senses with another, for, to say sooth, I ammighty tired and somewhat stupid with riding so many hundred miles insuch a hurry."
"Here, drain off the rest of the flask," said De Vitry; "there isenough there to besot a Fleming. It may bring you to life. Let us seeyou take a deep draught."
Antonio did not disappoint him, but saw the bottom of the vesselbefore he took it from his lips. As soon as he had done, however, hesaid, "Well, my lords, I will humbly take my leave, and wait in hisantechamber, like other poor fools, till my patron comes back. I havecertain little particulars for his own private ear, which----"
"About what?" asked De Vitry, gaily, resolved to pay Lorenzo back asmile he had seen upon his lips while he was reading Blanche Marie'smessage--"about what, Antonio. Speak out, or we shall think ittreason."
"My lord, 'tis but about how much bacon the horses ate upon the road,and how much hay I consumed; how much wine they drank, and how muchwater I tippled; how I fell under the wrath of a magistrate for eatingraw cabbages in a man's garden when I was tied by the bridle to one ofthe posts thereof, and how my horse had to do penance in a white sheetfor certain vices of his which shall be nameless."
The whole party laughed, and De Vitry sent the man away, commendinghim for a merry soul, and telling him to bid the man at the door bringup more wine. Lorenzo, however, would drink no more. There was nectarenough in Leonora's letter without wine, and he was anxious to hearall those details--those never-sufficient details--on every word ofwhich a lover pleases to dwell.
Antonio had not been gone five minutes ere Lorenzo rose and followed.A smile came upon the faces of both his friends, but De Vitryexclaimed, "Well, let those laugh who win, De Terrail: now I wouldgive a thousand golden ducats to be just in his case."
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