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diff --git a/18728-h/18728-h.htm b/18728-h/18728-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3b27f55 --- /dev/null +++ b/18728-h/18728-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7884 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Well of Saint Clare, by Anatole France. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 1%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: #A9A9A9; + background-color: inherit; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + a:link {text-decoration: none} + a:visited {text-decoration: none} + a:active {text-decoration: none} + a:hover {text-decoration: underline;} + + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Well of Saint Clare, by Anatole France + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Well of Saint Clare + +Author: Anatole France + +Translator: Alfred Allinson + +Release Date: July 1, 2006 [EBook #18728] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WELL OF SAINT CLARE *** + + + + +Produced by R. Cedron, Verity White and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr style="width: 95%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="pagei" id="pagei">[Pg i]</a></span></p> + +<h3>THE WORKS OF ANATOLE FRANCE</h3> +<h3>IN AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION</h3> +<h3>EDITED BY FREDERIC CHAPMAN</h3> + +<h1>THE WELL OF SAINT CLARE</h1> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 276px;"> +<img src="images/image1.jpg" width="276" height="250" alt="" title="" /></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="pageii" id="pageii">[Pg ii]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h1>THE WELL OF SAINT CLARE</h1> + +<h2>BY ANATOLE FRANCE</h2> + +<h3>A TRANSLATION BY</h3> +<h3>ALFRED ALLINSON</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 305px;"> +<img src="images/image2.jpg" width="305" height="250" alt="" title="" /></div> + +<h4>LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD</h4> +<h4>NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY: MCMIX</h4> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="pageiii" id="pageiii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: smaller">WM. BRENDON AND SON, LTD., PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH</p> + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="pagev" id="pagev">[Pg v]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" width="60%" summary="contents"> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td align="right"><span class="smcap">page</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">Prologue—The Reverend Father Adone Doni</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page3">3</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">San Satiro</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page17">17</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">Messer Guido Cavalcanti</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page51">51</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">Lucifer</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page73">73</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">The Loaves of Black Bread</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page85">85</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">The Merry-Hearted Buffalmacco</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page95">95</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">i. The Cockroaches</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page96">96</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">ii. The Ascending up of Andria Tafi</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page106">106</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">iii. The Master</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page118">118</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">iv. The Painter</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page124">124</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">The Lady of Verona</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page133">133</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">The Human Tragedy</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page141">141</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">i. Fra Giovanni</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page141">141</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">ii. The Lamp</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page150">150</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">iii. The Seraphic Doctor</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page153">153</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">iv. The Loaf on the Flat Stone</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page156">156</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">v. The Table under the Fig-tree</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page159">159</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">vi. The Temptation</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page163">163</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em"><span class='pagenum'><a name="pagevi" id="pagevi">[Pg vi]</a></span>vii. The Subtle Doctor</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page169">169</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">viii. The Burning Coal</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page177">177</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">ix. The House of Innocence</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page179">179</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">x. The Friends of Order</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page187">187</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">xi. The Revolt of Gentleness</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page194">194</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">xii. Words of Love</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page200">200</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">xiii. The Truth</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page205">205</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">xiv. Giovanni's Dream</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page215">215</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">xv. The Judgment</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page223">223</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left: 1em">xvi. The Prince of this World</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page231">231</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">The Mystic Blood</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page243">243</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">A Sound Security</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page257">257</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">History of Doña Maria d'Avalos and the Duke d'Andria</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page271">271</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="smcap">Bonaparte at San Miniato</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#page289">289</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page1" id="page1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h1>THE WELL OF SAINT CLARE</h1> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page2" id="page2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<h3>PROLOGUE</h3> + +<h2>THE REVEREND FATHER ADONE DONI</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page3" id="page3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<h4>PROLOGUE</h4> + +<h3>THE REVEREND FATHER ADONE DONI</h3> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>Τὰ γὰρ φυσικὰ, +καὶ τὰ ἠθικὰ ἀλλὰ +καὶ τὰ μαθηματικὰ, +καὶ τοὺς ἐγκυκλίους +λόγους, καὶ περὶ +τεχνῶν, πᾶσαν εἶχεν +ἐμπειρίαν.—Diogenes Laërtius, IX, 37.</i><a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<p><img src="images/i.jpg" align="left" height="100px" width="92px" title="I" alt="I" /> was spending the Spring at Sienna. Occupied all day long with +meticulous researches among the city archives, I used after supper to +take an evening walk along the wild road leading to Monte Oliveto, where +I would encounter in the twilight huge white oxen under ponderous yokes +dragging a rustic wain with wheels of solid timber—all unchanged since +the times of old Evander. The church bells knelled the peaceful ending +of the day, while the purple shades of + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page4" id="page4">[Pg 4]</a></span> + +night descended sadly and majestically on the low chain of neighbouring +hills. The black squadrons of the rooks had already sought their nests +about the city walls, but relieved against the opalescent sky a single +sparrow-hawk still hung floating with motionless wings above a solitary +ilex tree.</p> + +<p>I moved forward to confront the silence and solitude and the mild +terrors that lowered before me in the growing dusk. The tide of darkness +rose by imperceptible degrees and drowned the landscape. The infinite of +starry eyes winked in the sky, while in the gloom below the fireflies +spangled the bushes with their trembling love-lights.</p> + +<p>These living sparks cover all the Roman Campagna and the plains of +Umbria and Tuscany, on May nights. I had watched them in former days on +the Appian Way, round the tomb of Cæcilia Metella—their playground for +two thousand years; now I found them dancing the selfsame dance in the +land of St. Catherine and of Pia de' Tolomei, at the gates of Sienna, +that most melancholy and most fascinating of cities. All along my path +they quivered in the bents and brushwood, chasing one another, and ever +and anon, at the call of desire, tracing above the roadway the fiery +arch of their darting flight.</p> + +<p>On the white ribbon of the road, in these clear Spring nights, the only +person I used to encounter +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page5" id="page5">[Pg 5]</a></span> + +was the Reverend Father Adone Doni, who at +the time was, like myself, working in the old Academy <i>degli Intronati</i>. +I had taken an instant liking for the Cordelier in question, a man who, +grown grey in study, still preserved the cheerful, facile humour of a +simple, unlettered countryman. He was very willing to converse; and I +greatly relished his bland speech, his cultivated yet artless way of +thought, his look of old Silenus purged at the baptismal font, the play +of his passions at once keen and refined, the strange, alluring +personality that informed the whole man. Assiduous at the library, he +was also a frequent visitor to the marketplace, halting for choice in +front of the peasant girls who sell oranges, and listening to their +unconventional remarks. He was learning, he would say, from their lips +the true <i>Lingua Toscana</i>.</p> + +<p>All I knew of his past life, about which he never spoke, was that he was +born at Viterbo, of a noble but miserably impoverished family, that he +had studied the humanities and theology at Rome, as a young man had +joined the Franciscans of Assisi, where he worked at the Archives, and +had had difficulties on questions of faith with his ecclesiastical +superiors. Indeed I thought I noticed myself a tendency in the Father +towards peculiar views. He was a man of religion and a man of science, +but not without certain eccentricities under either + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page6" id="page6">[Pg 6]</a></span> + +aspect. He believed +in God on the evidence of Holy Scripture and in accordance with the +teachings of the Church, and laughed at those simple philosophers who +believed in Him on their own account, without being under any obligation +to do so. So far he was well within the bounds of orthodoxy; it was in +connection with the Devil that he professed peculiar opinions. He held +the Devil to be wicked, but not absolutely wicked, and considered that +the fiend's innate imperfection must always bar him from attaining to +the perfection of evil. He believed he discerned some symptoms of +goodness in the obscure manifestations of Satan's activity, and without +venturing to put it in so many words, augured from these the final +redemption of the pensive Archangel after the consummation of the ages.</p> + +<p>These little eccentricities of thought and temperament, which had +separated him from the rest of the world and thrown him back upon a +solitary existence, afforded me amusement. He had wits enough; all he +lacked was common sense and appreciation of ordinary everyday things. +His life was divided between phantoms of the past and dreams of the +future; the actual present was utterly foreign to his notions. For his +political ideas, these came simultaneously from antique Santa Maria +degli Angeli and the revolutionary secret societies of + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page7" id="page7">[Pg 7]</a></span> + +London, and were +a combination of Christian and socialist. But he was no fanatic; his +contempt for human reason was too complete for him to attach great +importance to his own share in it. The government of states appeared to +him in the light of a huge practical joke, at which he would laugh +quietly and composedly, as a man of taste should. Judges, civil and +criminal, caused him surprise, while he looked on the military classes +in a spirit of philosophical toleration.</p> + +<p>I was not long in discovering some flagrant contradictions in his mental +attitude. He longed with all the charity of his gentle heart for the +reign of universal peace. Yet at the same time he had a <i>penchant</i> for +civil war, and held in high esteem that Farinata degli Uberti, who loved +his native Florence so boldly and so well that he constrained her by +force and fraud, making the Arbia run red with Florentine blood the +while, to will and think precisely what he willed and thought himself. +For all that, the Reverend Father Adone Doni was a tender-hearted +dreamer of dreams. It was on the spiritual authority of St. Peter's +chair he counted to establish in this world the kingdom of God. He +believed the Paraclete was leading the Popes along a road unknown to +themselves. Therefore he had nothing but deferential words for the +<i>Roaring Lamb of Sinigaglia</i> and the <i>Opportunist</i> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page8" id="page8">[Pg 8]</a></span> + +<i>Eagle of +Carpineto</i>, as it was his custom to designate Pius IX and Leo XIII +respectively.</p> + +<p>Agreeable as was the Reverend Father's conversation to me, I used, out +of respect for his freedom of action and my own, to avoid showing myself +too assiduous in seeking his society inside the city walls, while on his +side he observed an exquisite discretion towards myself. But in our +walks abroad we frequently managed to meet as if by accident. Half a +league outside the Porta Romana the high road traverses a hollow way +between melancholy uplands on either hand, relieved only by a few gloomy +larches. Under the clayey slope of the northern escarpment and close by +the roadside, a dry well rears its light canopy of open ironwork.</p> + +<p>At this spot I would encounter the Reverend Father Adone Doni almost +every evening, seated on the coping of the well, his hands buried in the +sleeves of his gown, gazing out with mild surprise into the night. The +gathering dusk still left it possible to make out on his bright-eyed, +flat-nosed face the habitual expression of timid daring and graceful +irony which was impressed upon it so profoundly. At first we merely +exchanged formal good wishes for each other's health, peace and +happiness. Then I would take my place by his side on the old stone +well-head, that bore some traces of carving. It was still possible, in +full + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page9" id="page9">[Pg 9]</a></span> + +daylight, to distinguish a figure with a head bigger than its body +and representing an Angel, as seemed indicated by the wings.</p> + +<p>The Reverend Father never failed to say courteously:</p> + +<p>"Welcome, Signore! Welcome to the Well of St. Clare."</p> + +<p>One evening I asked him the reason why the well bore the name of this +favourite disciple of St. Francis. He informed me it was because of a +very edifying little miracle, which for all its charm had unfortunately +never found a place in the collection of the <i>Fioretti</i>. I begged him to +oblige me by telling it, which he proceeded to do in the following +terms:</p> + +<p>"In the days when the poor man of Jesus Christ, Francis, son of +Bernardone, used to journey from town to town teaching holy simplicity +and love, he visited Sienna, in company with Brother Leo, the man of his +own heart. But the Siennese, a covetous and cruel generation, true sons +of the She-Wolf on whose milk they boasted themselves to have been +suckled, gave a sorry welcome to the holy man, who bade them take into +their house two ladies of a perfect beauty, to wit Poverty and +Obedience. They overwhelmed him with obloquy and mocking laughter, and +drove him forth from the city. He left the place in the night by the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page10" id="page10">[Pg 10]</a></span> + +Porta Romana. Brother Leo, who tramped alongside, spoke up and said to +him:—</p> + +<p>"'The Siennese have written on the gates of their city,—"Sienna opens +her heart to you wider than her doors." And nevertheless, brother +Francis, these same men have shut their hearts against us.'</p> + +<p>"And Francis, son of Bernardone, replied:</p> + +<p>"'The fault is with me, be sure of that, brother Leo, little lamb of +God. I have not known how to knock at the doors of their hearts +forcefully and skilfully enough. I am far below the fellows who set a +bear dancing in the Great Piazza. For they draw together a great crowd +by exhibiting the rude coarse beast, whilst I that had ladies of +celestial fairness to show them, I have attracted no one. Brother Leo, I +charge you, on your holy obedience, to say thus to me: "Brother Francis, +you are a poor man, without any merit whatsoever, a stumbling-block and +a very rock of offence!" And all the while Brother Leo was hesitating to +obey, the holy man suffered grievously within himself. As he went on his +murky way, his thoughts turned to pleasant Assisi, where he had left +behind him his sons in the spirit, and Clare, daughter of his soul. He +knew how Clare was exposed to great tribulations for the love of holy +Poverty. And he doubted whether his well-beloved daughter were not sick +of + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page11" id="page11">[Pg 11]</a></span> + +body and soul, and weary of well-doing, in the house of St. Damian.</p> + +<p>"So sore did these doubts weigh on him, that arrived at this spot where +the road enters the hollow way between the hills, he seemed to feel his +feet sink into the ground at each step he took. He dragged himself as +far as the Well here, which was then in its pristine beauty and full of +limpid water, and fell exhausted on the well-head where we are seated at +this moment. A long while the man of God remained bent over the mouth of +the well. After which, lifting up his head, he said joyfully to Brother +Leo: 'What think you, brother Leo, lamb of God, I have seen in the +Well?'</p> + +<p>"And Brother Leo answered:</p> + +<p>"'Brother Francis, you saw the moon reflected in the well.'</p> + +<p>"'My brother,' replied the Saint of God, 'it is not our sister the Moon +I saw in the well, but by the Lord, the true countenance of sister +Clare, and so pure and shining so bright with a holy joy that all my +doubts were instantly dispelled, and it was made plain to me that our +sister enjoys at this present hour the full content God accords his +chosen vessels, loading them with the treasures of Poverty.'</p> + +<p>"So saying, the good St. Francis drank a + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page12" id="page12">[Pg 12]</a></span> + +few drops of water in the +hollow of his hand, and arose refreshed.</p> + +<p>"And that is why the name of St. Clare was given to this Well."</p> + +<p>Such was the tale told by the Reverend Father Adone Doni.</p> + +<p>Night after night I returned to find the amiable Cordelier sitting on +the edge of the mystic well. I would seat myself by his side, and he +would tell over for my benefit some fragment of history known only to +himself. He had many delightful stories of the sort to relate, being +better read than any one else in the antiquities of his country. These +lived again and grew bright and young in his head, as if it contained an +intellectual Fountain of Eternal Youth. Ever fresh pictures flowed from +his white-fringed lips. As he spoke, the moonlight bathed his beard in a +silver flood. The crickets accompanied the narrator's voice with the +shrilling of their wing-cases, and ever and anon his words, uttered in +the softest of all dialects of human speech, would be answered by the +fluted plaintive croaking of the frogs, which hearkened from across the +road—a friendly, if apprehensive audience.</p> + +<p>I left Sienna towards the middle of June; and I have never seen the +Reverend Father Adone Doni since. He clings to my memory + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page13" id="page13">[Pg 13]</a></span> + +like a figure +in a dream; and I have now put into writing the tales he told me on the +road of Monte Oliveto. They will be found in the present volume; I only +hope they may have retained, in their new dress, some vestiges of the +grace they had in the telling at the Well of St. Clare.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">1</span></a> +"For of physical and ethical science, no less than of +mathematics and the common round of learning, as well as concerning +arts, he possessed full knowledge and experience."</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page15" id="page15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<h2>SAN SATIRO</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page16" id="page16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<h3>TO ALPHONSE DAUDET</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page17" id="page17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<h4>SAN SATIRO</h4> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Consors paterni luminis,<br /> +Lux ipse lucis et dies,<br /> +Noctem canendo rumpimus;<br /> +Assiste postulantibus.<br /> +<br /> +Aufer tenebras mentium;<br /> +Fuga catervas dæmonum;<br /> +Expelle somnolentiam,<br /> +Ne pigritantes obruat.</i><a name="FNanchor_1_2" id="FNanchor_1_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_2" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 40em">(<i>Breviarium Romanum</i><br /> +Third day of the week: at matins.)</p> + +<p><img src="images/f.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="84px" title="F" alt="F" />ra Mino had raised himself by his humility above his brethren, and +still a young man, he governed the Monastery of Santa Fiora wisely and +well. He was devout, and loved long meditations and long prayers; +sometimes he had ecstasies. After the example of his spiritual father, +St. Francis, he composed songs in the vernacular tongue in celebration +of + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page18" id="page18">[Pg 18]</a></span> + +perfect love, which is the love of God. And these exercises were without +fault whether of metre or of meaning, for had he not studied the seven +liberal Arts at the University of Bologna?</p> + +<p>Now one evening, as he was walking under the cloister arches, he felt +his heart filled with trouble and sadness at the remembrance of a lady +of Florence he had loved in the first flower of his youth, ere the habit +of St. Francis was a safeguard to his flesh. He prayed God to drive away +the image; nevertheless his heart continued sad within him.</p> + +<p>"The bells," he pondered, "say like the Angels, AVE MARIA; but their +voice is lost in the mists of heaven. On the cloister wall yonder, the +Master Perugia delights to honour has painted marvellous well the three +Marys contemplating with a love ineffable the body of the Saviour. But +the night has veiled the tears in their eyes and the dumb sobs of their +mouths, and I cannot weep with them. Yonder Well in the middle of the +cloister garth was covered but now with doves that had come to drink, +but these are flown away, for they found no water in the hollows of the +carven well-head. And behold. Lord! my soul falls silent like the bells, +is darkened like the holy Marys, and runs dry like the well. Why, Jesus + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page19" id="page19">[Pg 19]</a></span> + +my God! why is my heart arid, and dark, and dumb, when Thou art its +dayspring, and the song of birds, and the water-brook flowing from the +hills?"</p> + +<p>Fra Mino dreaded to return to his cell, and thinking prayer would dispel +his melancholy and calm his disquiet, he passed into the Monastery +Church by the low door leading from the cloister. Silence and gloom +filled the building, raised more than a hundred and fifty years before +on the foundations of a ruined Roman Temple by the great Margaritone. He +traversed the Nave, and went and knelt in the Chapel behind the High +Altar dedicated to San Michele, whose legend was painted in fresco on +the wall. But the dim light of the lamp hanging from the vault was +insufficient to show the Archangel fighting with Satan and weighing +souls in the balance. Only the moon, shining through the great window, +threw a pale ray over the Tomb of San Satiro, where it lay under an +arcade to the right of the Altar. This tomb, in shape resembling the +great vats used at vintage time, was more ancient than the Church and in +all respects similar to a Pagan sarcophagus, except that the sign of the +Cross was to be seen traced in three different places on its marble +sides.</p> + +<p>Fra Mino remained for hours prostrate before + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page20" id="page20">[Pg 20]</a></span> + +the Altar; but he found it +impossible to pray, and at midnight felt himself weighed down under the +same heaviness that overcame Jesus Christ's disciples in the Garden of +Gethsemane. And lo! as he lay there without courage or counsel, he saw +as it were a white cloud rise above the tomb of San Satiro, and +presently observed that this cloud was made up of a multitude of +cloudlets, of which each one was a woman. They floated in the dim air; +and through their light raiment shone the whiteness of their light +limbs. Then Fra Mino saw how among them were goat-footed young men who +were chasing them. These were naked, and nothing hid the terrifying +ardour of their desires. And the nymphs fled away from them, while +beneath their racing steps there sprang up flowery meadows and brooks of +water. Each time a goat-foot put out his hand to seize one of them, a +sallow would shoot up suddenly to hide the nymph in its hollow trunk as +in a cave, and the grey leaves shivered with light murmurings and spurts +of mocking laughter.</p> + +<p>When all the women were hidden in the sallows, their goat-footed lovers, +sitting on the grass of the new-come meadows, breathed in their flutes +of reeds and drew from them sounds to destroy the peace of any creature +of the earth. The nymphs were fascinated, and soon began to peep out + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page21" id="page21">[Pg 21]</a></span> + +between the branches, and one by one deserting the shady covert, drew +near under the irresistible attraction of the music. Then the goat-men +rushed upon them with a demoniac fury. Folded in the arms of their +ruthless assailants, the nymphs strove to keep up a while longer their +raillery and loud laughter, but the mirth died on their lips. With heads +thrown back and eyes swooning with joy and terror, they could only call +upon their mother, or scream a shrill "You are killing me," or keep a +sullen silence.</p> + +<p>Fra Mino longed to turn his head, but he could not, and his eyes +remained wide open in spite of himself.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the nymphs, winding their arms about the goat-men's loins, +fell to biting and caressing and provoking their hairy lovers, and body +intertwined with body, they enfolded and bathed them in their tender +flesh that was sweeter and softer and more living than the water of the +brook which ran by them under the sallows.</p> + +<p>At the sight, Fra Mino fell, in mind and intention, into deadly sin. He +desired to be one of these demons, half men and half beasts, and hold to +his bosom, after their carnal fashion, the fair lady of Florence he had +loved in the flower of his years, and who was now dead.</p> + +<p>But already the goat-men were scattering through + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page22" id="page22">[Pg 22]</a></span> + +the country-side. Some +were busied gathering honey in the hollow trunks of oaks, others carving +reeds into the shape of flutes, or butting one against the other, +crashing their horned brows together. Meantime the bodies of the nymphs, +sweet wrecks of love, lay motionless, strewing the meadows. Fra Mino lay +groaning on the Chapel flags; for so fierce had been the desire of sin +within him that now he was filled full of bitter shame at his own +weakness.</p> + +<p>Suddenly one of the nymphs, chancing as she lay to turn her eyes upon +him, cried out:</p> + +<p>"A man! a man!"</p> + +<p>And pointing him out to her companions:</p> + +<p>"Look, sisters; yonder is no goat-herd, he has no flute of reed beside +him. Nor yet do I recognize him for the master of one of those rustic +farmsteads whose garden-close, sloping to the hill-side beneath the +vines, is guarded by a Priapus hewn out of a stump of beech. What would +he among us, if he is neither goat-herd, nor neat-herd, nor gardener? +His looks are harsh and gloomy, and I cannot read in his eyes the love +of the gods and goddesses that people the wide sky, the woods and +mountains. He wears a barbarous habit; perhaps he is a Scythian. Let us +approach the stranger, my sisters, and make sure he is not come as a foe +to sully our fountains, hew down our trees, tear open + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page23" id="page23">[Pg 23]</a></span> + +our hill-sides +and betray to cruel men the mystery of our happy lurking places. Come +with me, Mnaïs; come, Ægle, Neæra and Melibœa.</p> + +<p>"On! on!" returned Mnaïs, "on, with our arms in hand!"</p> + +<p>"On! on!" all cried in chorus.</p> + +<p>Then Fra Mino saw them spring up, and gather great handfuls of roses, +and advance upon him in a long line, each armed with roses and thorns. +But the distance that separated them from him, which at first had seemed +very short, for indeed he thought almost to touch them and felt their +breath on his face, appeared suddenly to increase, and he watched them +coming as though from out a far-off forest. Impatient to be at him, they +began to run, threatening him with their cruel flowers, while menaces +flew from their flower-like lips. And lo! as they came nearer, a change +was wrought in them; at each step they lost something of their grace and +beauty, and the bloom of their youth faded as fast as the roses in their +hands. First their eyes grew hollow and the mouth fell in. The neck, but +now so pure and white, hung in great hideous folds, and grey elf-locks +draggled over their wrinkled brows. On they came; and their eyes were +circled with red, their lips drawn in upon the toothless gums. On they +came, carrying dead roses in their arms, which were black and writhen + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page24" id="page24">[Pg 24]</a></span> + +as the old vine stocks the peasants of Chianti burn for firewood in the +winter nights. On they came, with shaking heads and palsied thighs, +tottering and trembling.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the spot where Fra Mino stood rooted to the ground with +affright, they were no better than a crowd of horrid witches, bald and +bearded, nose and chin touching, and bosoms hanging loose and flabby. +They came crowding round him:</p> + +<p>"Ah, ha! the pretty darling!" cried one. "He is as white as a sheet, and +his heart beats like a hare the dogs are snapping at. Ægle, sister mine, +say, what must be done with him?"</p> + +<p>"Neæra mine!" Ægle replied, "why! we must open his breast, tear out his +heart and put a sponge in its place instead."</p> + +<p>"Not so!" said Melibœa. "That were making him pay too dear for his +curiosity and the pleasure he has had in surprising our frolic. Enough +for this time to inflict a light chastisement. Say, shall we give him a +good whipping?"</p> + +<p>Straightway surrounding the Monk, the sisters dragged his gown above his +head and belaboured him with the handfuls of thorns they still held.</p> + +<p>The blood was beginning to come, when Neæra signed to them to stop:</p> + +<p>"Enough!" she cried! "he is my gallant, I + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page25" id="page25">[Pg 25]</a></span> + +tell you! I saw him just now +casting tender eyes at me; I would content his wishes, and grant him my +favours without more delay."</p> + +<p>She smiled alluringly; and a long, black tooth projecting from her mouth +tickled his nostril. She murmured softly:</p> + +<p>"Come, come, my Adonis!"</p> + +<p>Then suddenly, wild with rage:</p> + +<p>"Fie, fie! his senses are benumbed. His coldness offends my charms. He +scorns me; avenge me, comrades! Mnaïs, Ægle, Melibœa, avenge your +sister!"</p> + +<p>At this appeal, one and all, lifting their thorny whips, fell to +scourging him so savagely that Fra Mino's body was soon one wound from +head to toe. Now and again they would stop to cough and spit, only to +begin afresh, plying their whips more vigorously than ever. Only sheer +weariness induced them to leave off.</p> + +<p>"I hope," Neæra then said, "next time he will not do me the undeserved +insult I still blush to remember. We will spare his life; but if he +betrays the secret of our sports and pleasures, we will surely kill him. +Good-bye to you, my pretty boy!"</p> + +<p>So saying, the old woman suddenly squatted down over the Monk and +drowned him in a torrent of very filthy liquid. Each sister followed + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page26" id="page26">[Pg 26]</a></span> + +suit and did the like; then one after the other they re-entered the tomb +of San Satiro, slipping in through a tiny crack in the lid, leaving +their victim lying full length in a stream of a most intolerable stench.</p> + +<p>When the last had disappeared,—the cock crew. Then Fra Mino at last +found himself able to rise from the earth. Broken with fatigue and pain, +benumbed with cold, shuddering with fever, half stifled with the foul +exhalations of the poisonous liquor, he set his clothing straight and +dragged himself to his cell, just as day broke.</p> + +<p>From that night on, Fra Mino never had a moment's peace. The +recollection of what he had seen in the Chapel of San Michele, above San +Satiro's tomb, disturbed him in the Church services and in all his pious +exercises. He trembled when he visited the Church along with his +fellows; and as his turn came, according to the rule, to kiss the +pavement of the Choir, his lips shuddered to encounter the traces of the +nymphs' presence, and he would murmur: "O! my Saviour, dost not Thou +hear me say what Thou didst Thyself say to Thy Father, Lead us not, we +beseech Thee, into temptation?" At first he had thought of sending to +the Lord Bishop an account of what he had witnessed. But on riper +reflexion, he became convinced it were better to meditate at + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page27" id="page27">[Pg 27]</a></span> + +leisure on +these extraordinary events and only divulge them after a more exhaustive +study of all the circumstances. Besides it so happened that the Lord +Bishop, allied with the Guelphs of Pisa against the Ghibellines of +Florence, was at that moment waging war with such right good will that +for a whole month he had not so much as unbuckled his cuirass. And that +is why, without saying a word to anyone, Fra Mino made profound +researches on the tomb of San Satiro and the Chapel containing it. +Deeply versed in the knowledge of books, he investigated many texts, +both ancient and modern; yet found no glimmer of enlightenment in any of +them. Indeed the only effect of the works on Magic which he studied was +to double his uncertainty.</p> + +<p>One morning, after labouring all the night as was his wont, he was fain +to refresh his heart with a walk in the fields. He took the hilly path +which, winding between the vines and the elms they are wedded to, leads +to a wood of myrtles and olives, sacred in old days to the Roman gods. +His feet bathed in the wet grass, his brow refreshed by the dew that +distilled from the pointed leaves of the Guelder roses, Fra Mino +wandered long in the forest, till he came upon a spring over which the +wild tamarisks gently swayed their light foliage and the downy clusters +of their pink berries. Lower + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page28" id="page28">[Pg 28]</a></span> + +down amid the willows, where the water +formed a wider pool, herons stood motionless, while the smaller birds +sang sweetly in the branching myrtles. The scent of mint rose moist and +fragrant from the ground, and the grass was spangled with the flowers of +which our Lord said that "Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like +one of these." Fra Mino sat down on a mossy stone and praising God, Who +made the heavens and the dew, he fell to pondering the hidden mysteries +of Nature.</p> + +<p>Now the remembrance of all he had seen in the Chapel of San Michele +never left his thoughts; so he sat meditating, his head between his +hands, wondering for the thousandth time what the dream might signify: +"For indeed," he said to himself, "such a vision must needs have a +meaning; it should even have several, which it behoves to discover, +whether by sudden illumination, or by dint of an exact applying of the +scholastic rules. And I deem that, in this especial case, the poets I +studied at Bologna, such as Horace the Satirist and Statius, should +likewise be of great help to me, seeing many verities are intermingled +with their fables."</p> + +<p>After long pondering these thoughts within his breast, and others more +subtle still, he lifted his eyes and perceived he was not alone. Leaning +against the cavernous trunk of an ancient holm-oak, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page29" id="page29">[Pg 29]</a></span> + + an old man stood +gazing at the sky through the leaves, and smiling to himself. Above his +hoary brow peeped out two shorty blunt horns. His nose was flat with +wide nostrils, and from his chin depended a white beard, through which +were visible the rugged muscles of the neck. A shaggy growth of hair +covered his breast, while from the thighs downwards his limbs showed a +thick fleece that trailed down to his cloven feet. He held to his lips a +flute of reed, from which he drew a feeble sound of music. Then he began +to sing in a voice that left the words barely distinguishable:</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 22em"> +Laughing she fled,<br /> +Her teeth in the golden grape;<br /> +After I sped,<br /> +And clasping her flying shape,<br /> +I quenched my drouth<br /> +On the fruit at her mouth.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Astounded at these strange sights and sounds, Fra Mino crossed himself. +Still the old man showed no mark of confusion, but cast a long and +artless look at the Monk. Amid the deep wrinkles that scored his face, +the clear blue eyes sparkled like the waters of a spring through the +rugged bark of a grove of oaks.</p> + +<p>"Man or beast," shrilled Mino, "I command you in the name of the Saviour +to say who you are." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page30" id="page30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My son," replied the old man, "I am San Satiro! Speak not so loud, for +fear of frightening the birds."</p> + +<p>Then Fra Mino resumed, in a quieter tone:</p> + +<p>"Forasmuch, old man, as you shrank not before the dread sign of the +Cross, I cannot hold you to be a demon or some foul spirit escaped out +of Hell. But if verily and indeed you are a man, as you say you are, or +rather the soul of a man sanctified by the deeds of a good life and by +the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ, expound, I pray you, the mystery of +your goat's horns and your shaggy limbs ending in those black, cloven +hoofs."</p> + +<p>At the question, the old man lifted up his arms towards heaven, and +said:</p> + +<p>"My son, the nature of men and animals, of plants and stones, is the +secret of the immortal gods, and I know as little as yourself what is +the reason of these horns wherewith my brow is decked, and which the +Nymphs used in olden days to wind about with garlands of flowers. I +cannot tell you the meaning of the two wrinkled folds that droop from my +neck, nor why I have the feet of a wanton goat. But I would have you +know, my son, there was once in these woods a race of women having +horned brows like mine and shaggy thighs. Yet were their bosoms round +and white, and their belly and polished loins shone in the light. The + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page31" id="page31">[Pg 31]</a></span> + +sun was young then, and loved to fleck them with his golden arrows, as +they lay beneath the shady foliage. They were very fair, my son; but +alas! they have vanished from the woods, every one. My mates have +perished likewise, and I am left lonely, the last of my tribe."</p> + +<p>"I would fain know your age, old man, and your lineage and country."</p> + +<p>"My son, I was born of the Earth long ere Jupiter had dethroned Saturn, +and my eyes have looked upon the flowery freshness of the new-created +World. Not yet had the human race emerged from the clay. Alone with me, +the dancing Satyr girls set the ground ringing with the rhythmic beat of +their double hoofs. They were taller and stronger and fairer than either +Nymphs or Women; and their ampler loins received abundantly the seed of +the first-born of Earth.</p> + +<p>"Under the reign of Jupiter the Nymphs began to inhabit fountains and +forests and mountains; while the Fauns, accoupling with the Nymphs, +formed light-footed bands that roamed the woods together. Meantime I +spent a happy life, tasting at will the clusters of the wild grapes and +the lips of the laughing Faun-girls. I enjoyed deep and restful slumbers +amid the lush grass; and I would celebrate on my rustic flute Jupiter, +Saturn's + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page32" id="page32">[Pg 32]</a></span> + +successor, for it is of my nature to praise the gods, masters +of the world.</p> + +<p>"Alas! and I am grown old, for I am but a god, and the centuries have +blanched the hairs of my head and of my bosom, and have extinguished the +fire of my reins. I was already heavily weighted with years when the +Great Pan died, and Jupiter, meeting the same lot he had laid upon +Saturn, was dethroned by the Galilean. Since then I have dragged out an +ever-flagging life, so feeble and languid that at last it fell out I +died, and was entombed. And verily I am now but the shadow of myself. If +I still exist a little, it is because nothing ever really perishes, and +none is suffered altogether to die out. Death must never be more perfect +and complete than life. Beings lost in the Ocean of Things are like the +waves you may watch, my child, rising and falling in the Adriatic Sea. +They have neither beginning nor end, they are born and die insensibly. +Insensibly as the waves, my soul passes. A faint far-off memory of the +satyr girls of the Golden Age yet brightens my eyes, and on my lips +float soundlessly the ancient hymns of praise."</p> + +<p>This said, he fell silent. Fra Mino gazed at the old man, and knew him, +that he was a phantom and nothing more.</p> + +<p>"Yes! you may indeed be a goat-foot," he + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page33" id="page33">[Pg 33]</a></span> + +told him gravely, "without +being a demon; 'tis not a thing wholly incredible. Such creatures as God +framed to have no part in Adam's heritage, these can no more be damned +than they can be saved. I can never believe that the Centaur Cheiron, +who was wiser than men are, is suffering eternal torments in the belly +of Leviathan. A traveller who penetrated once into Limbo, relates how he +saw him seated in a grassy spot and conversing with Rhipheus, the most +righteous man of all the Trojans. Others indeed affirm that Holy +Paradise itself has been opened to admit Rhipheus of Troy. Any way the +case Is one where doubt Is not unlawful. But you lied, old man, when you +told me you were a Saint, who are not so much even as a man."</p> + +<p>The goat-foot made answer:</p> + +<p>"My son, when I was young, I was no more used to lie than the sheep +whose milk I sucked or the he-goats with which I would butt in the joy +of my strength and beauty. Lies were unknown In those times, nor had the +sheep's fleece yet learned to assume factitious hues; and my soul has +remained unchanged from that day to this. See, I go naked as in the +golden age of Saturn; and my spirit is veiled as little as my body. I am +no liar. And why indeed should you deem It a thing so extraordinary, my +son, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page34" id="page34">[Pg 34]</a></span> + + that I have become a Saint in the train of the Galilean, albeit no +offspring of the first mother some name Eve and others Pyrrha, and whom +it is very meet to reverence under either title? Nay! for that matter, +neither is St. Michael woman-born. I know him, and at times we have +talks together, he and I. He tells me of the days when he was an ox-herd +on Mount Garganus...."</p> + +<p>But here Fra Mino interrupted the Satyr:</p> + +<p>"I cannot suffer you to say St. Michael was an ox-herd, because he +guarded the cattle of a man whose name was Garganus, the same as the +Mountain. But there, I would fain learn, old man, how you were made a +Saint."</p> + +<p>"Listen," replied the goat-foot, "and your curiosity shall be satisfied.</p> + +<p>"When men coming from the East proclaimed in the fair vale of Arno how +that the Galilean had dethroned Jupiter, they hewed down the oaks +whereon the country folk were used to hang up little goddesses of clay +and votive tablets; they planted crosses over against the holy +fountains, and forbade the shepherds any more to carry to the grottos of +the Nymphs offerings of wine and milk and cakes. Naturally enough this +angered all the tribe of Fauns and Pans and Sylvan Genii, and in their +wrath these attacked + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page35" id="page35">[Pg 35]</a></span> + + the apostles of the new God. When the holy men +were asleep of nights, on their bed of dry leaves, the Nymphs would +steal up and pull their beards, while the young Fauns, slipping into +their stable, would pluck out hairs from their she-ass's tail. In vain I +sought to disarm their simple malice and exhort them to submission. 'My +children,' I would warn them, 'the days of easy gaiety and light +laughter are gone by.' But they were reckless, and would not hearken; +and a sore price they paid for their heedlessness.</p> + +<p>"But for myself, had I not seen the reign of Saturn come to an end? and +I deemed it natural and just that Jupiter should perish in his turn. I +was prepared to acquiesce in the downfall of the great old gods, and +offered no resistance to the emissaries of the Galilean. Nay! I did them +sundry little services. Better acquainted than they with the forest +paths, I would gather mulberries and sloes, and lay them on leaves at +the threshold of their grotto, and make them little presents of plovers' +eggs. Then, if they were building a cabin, I would carry the timber and +stones for them on my back. In gratitude, they poured water on my brow, +invoking on my head the peace of Jesus Christ.</p> + +<p>"So I lived with them and in their way; and those who loved them, loved +me. As they were + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page36" id="page36">[Pg 36]</a></span> + + honoured, so was I, and my sanctity seemed as great as +theirs.</p> + +<p>"I have told you, my son, I was already very old in those days. The sun +had scarce heat enough to warm my benumbed limbs. I was no better than +an old rotten tree, that has lost its crown of fresh leaves and singing +birds. Each returning Autumn brought my end nearer; and one Winter's +morning they found me stretched motionless by the roadside.</p> + +<p>"The Bishop, followed by his Priests and all the people, celebrated my +obsequies. Then I was laid in a great tomb of white marble, marked in +three places with the sign of the Cross, and bearing carved on the slab +in front the words <i>Sanctus Satyrus</i>, within a garland of roses.</p> + +<p>"In those times, my son, tombs were erected along the roadsides. Mine +was placed two miles out from the city, on the Florence road. A young +plane-tree grew up over it, and threw its shadow across it, dappled with +sunlight and full of bird songs and twitterings, freshness and joy. Near +by, a fountain flowed over a bed of water-weed, where the boys and girls +came laughing merrily to bathe together. It was a charming spot—and +soon a holy one as well. Thither young mothers would bring their babies +and let them touch the marble of the tomb, that they might grow up + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page37" id="page37">[Pg 37]</a></span> + +sturdy and straight in all their limbs. The country folk one and all +believed that new-born infants presented at my grave must one day +surpass their fellows in strength and courage. This is why they brought +me all the flower of the gallant Tuscan race. Moreover the peasants +often led their asses thither in hopes of making them prolific. My +memory was revered; each year at the return of Spring, the Bishop used +to come with his Clergy to pray over my bones, and I could watch far +away through the meadow grass the slow approach of Cross and Candle in +procession, the scarlet canopy, and the chanting acolytes. Thus it was, +my son, in the days of good King Berengar.</p> + +<p>"Meantime, the Satyrs and the Satyr girls, the Fauns and Nymphs, dragged +out a wretched, wandering life. No more altars of meadow turf for them, +no more wreaths of flowers, no more offerings of milk and wheat and +honey. Only now and then at long intervals some goat-herd would +furtively lay a tiny cheese on the threshold of the sacred grot, whose +entrance was almost blocked now with thorns and brambles. But it was +merely the rabbits and squirrels came to eat these poor dainties. The +Nymphs were dwellers in distant forests and gloomy caves, driven forth +of their old homes by the apostles + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page38" id="page38">[Pg 38]</a></span> + +from the East. And to hinder their +ever returning more, the priests of the Galilean God poured over trees +and stones a charmed water, and pronounced magic words, and set up +crosses where roads met in the forest; for the Galilean, my son, is +learned in the art of incantations. Better than Saturn, better than +Jupiter, he knows the virtue of formularies and mystic signs. Thus the +poor rustic Divinities could no more find refuge in their sacred woods. +The company of long-haired, goat-footed Satyrs, that beat of yore their +mother earth with sounding hoof, was but a cloud of pale, dumb shadows +trailing along the mountain-side like the morning mist the Sun melts and +dispels.</p> + +<p>"Buffeted, as by a fierce wind, by the wrath of Heaven, their spectral +forms would be whirled eddying all day long in the dust of the roads. +The night on the contrary was somewhat less hostile to them. Night is +not wholly the Galilean God's; He shares its dominion with the devils. +As the shades of night descended from the hills, Fauns and Faun-women, +Nymphs and Pans, came huddling beneath the shelter of the tombs along +the roadside, and there under the kindly empire of the infernal powers +would enjoy a brief repose. Of all the tombs they liked mine the best, +as that of a reverend ancestor of their own. Soon all assembled under +that part of the cornice which, giving South, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page39" id="page39">[Pg 39]</a></span> + +was quite free of moss +and always dry. Thither the airy folk came flying every evening as +surely as doves to the dovecote. They easily found room, grown tiny now +and light as the chaff that scuds before the winnowing-fan. For my own +part, sallying out from my quiet death-chamber, I would sit down +sometimes in the midst of them under shelter of the marble edge-tiles, +and in a feeble, whistling voice sing them songs of the days of Saturn +and Jupiter; then they would remember the happy times gone by for ever. +Under the eyes of Diana, they would join to make a show of their ancient +pastimes, and the belated traveller would seem to see the night mists of +the meadows in the moonlight mimic the intertwining limbs of lovers. And +in very deed they were little more than a fleeting fog themselves. The +cold tried them sorely. One night, when the snow shrouded the fields, +the Nymphs Ægle, Neæra, Mnaïs and Melibœa glided through the cracks +in the marble into the narrow, gloomy chamber where I dwell. Their +comrades crowded after in their train, and the Fauns, dashing in pursuit +of them, quickly joined them too. My house became their house. We +scarcely ever left it, except to visit the woods, when the night was +fine and clear. Even then they would make haste to return at the first +cock-crow. For you must know, my son, that alone of the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page40" id="page40">[Pg 40]</a></span> + + horned race I +have leave to appear on this earth by the light of day. It is a +privilege attached to my Saintship.</p> + +<p>"My tomb now inspired more veneration than ever among the country +people, and every day young mothers came to present their nurslings to +me, lifting the naked babes in their arms. When the sons of St. Francis +settled in the land and built a monastery on the hill-side, they craved +the Bishop's leave to transfer my monument to their Church and there +keep it as a sacred thing. The favour was granted, and I was borne in +great pomp to the Chapel of San Michele, where I repose to this day. My +rustic family was carried thither along with me. It was a signal honour; +but I confess I regretted the broad highway, where I could watch at dawn +the peasant women carrying on their heads their basketfuls of grapes and +figs and red aubergines. Time has hardly softened my regret, and I would +I were still beneath the plane-tree on the Sacred Way.</p> + +<p>"Such is my life," ended the old Satyr. "It flows on pleasantly, gentle +and unobtrusive, down all the ages of the world. If a touch of sadness +mingles with the joy of it, 'tis because the gods have willed it so. Oh! +my son, let us praise the gods, masters of the universe!"</p> + +<p>Fra Mino stood thinking a while. Then he said: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page41" id="page41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I understand now the meaning of what I saw, during that evil night, in +the Chapel of San Michele. Still one point remains dark to my mind. Tell +me why, old man, the Nymphs who, dwell with you, and couple with the +fauns, changed into old women of squalid ugliness when they came nigh +me."</p> + +<p>"Alas! my son," answered the Saint, "time spares neither men nor gods. +These last are immortal only in the imagination of the short-lived race +of men. In reality they suffer the penalties of age, and verge, as the +centuries go by, towards irreparable decay. Nymphs grow old as well as +women. No rose but turns into an arid hip at last; no Nymph but ends as +an ugly Witchwife. Watching as you did the frolic of my little +household, you saw how the memory of their bygone youth yet beautifies +the Nymphs and Fauns in the moment of their loves, and how their ardour, +reanimated an instant, can reanimate their charms. But the ruin of +centuries shows again directly after. Alas! alas! the race of the Nymphs +is old, very old and decrepit."</p> + +<p>Fra Mino asked yet another question:</p> + +<p>"Old man! if what you say is true, and you have won to blessedness by +mysterious ways, if it is true—however absurd—that you are a Saint, +how comes it you house in your tomb with these + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page42" id="page42">[Pg 42]</a></span> + +phantoms which know not +to praise God, and which pollute with their indecencies the temple of +the Lord? Answer me, old man!"</p> + +<p>But the goat-footed Saint, without a word of answer, vanished softly +away into thin air.</p> + +<p>Seated on a mossy stone beside the spring, Fra Mino pondered the +discourse he had just listened to, and found it contained, along with +some passages impenetrably obscure, others that were full of clearness +and enlightenment.</p> + +<p>"This Satyr Saint," he reflected, "maybe likened to the Sibyl, who in +the pantheon of the false gods, proclaimed the coming Redeemer to the +Nations. The mire of old-world falsehoods yet clings about the hoofs of +his feet, but his forehead is uplifted to the light, and his lips +confess the truth."</p> + +<p>As the shadow of the beeches was lengthening along the grassy hill-side, +the Monk rose up from his stone and began to descend the narrow path +that led to the House of the Sons of St. Francis. But he dared not let +his eyes rest on the flowers sleeping on the surface of the pools, for +he saw in them the likeness of the wanton nymphs. He got back to his +cell at the moment when the bells were sounding the <i>Ave Maria.</i> It was +a small, white chamber, furnished simply with a bed, a stool, and one of +the high desks writers use. On the wall a mendicant friar had painted +years ago, in the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page43" id="page43">[Pg 43]</a></span> + +manner of Giotto, a representation of the holy Marys +at the foot of the Cross. Below this painting, a shelf of wood, as black +and polished as the beams of an ancient oil-press, was covered with +books. Of these, some were sacred, others profane, for Fra Mino was a +student of the classic poets, to the end he might praise God in all the +works of men, and blessed the good Virgil for having prophesied the +birth of the Saviour, when the bard of Mantua declares to the Nations: +<i>Jam redit et Virgo.</i><a name="FNanchor_1_3" id="FNanchor_1_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_3" class="fnanchor">2</a></p> + +<p>On the window-sill a tall lily stood in a vase of coarse earthenware, +for Fra Mino loved to trace the name of the Blessed Virgin inscribed in +the gold dust of the flower's calyx. The window itself, which opened +very high up in the wall, was small, but the sky could be seen from it, +blue above the purple hills.</p> + +<p>Ensconced in this pleasant tomb of his life and longings, Mino sat down +before the narrow desk, with its two shelves at top, where he was +accustomed to devote himself to his studies. Then, dipping his reed in +the inkhorn fastened to the side of the little coffer that held his +sheets of parchment, his brushes, and his colours and gold dust, he +besought the flies, in the name of the Lord, not to annoy him, and began +to write the account of all he had + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page44" id="page44">[Pg 44]</a></span> + +seen and heard in the Chapel of San Michele, during his night of +torment, as well as on the day just done, in the woods by the stream +side. And first of all, he traced these lines on the parchment:</p> + +<p><i>"A true record of those things which Fra Mino, of the Order of Friars +Minors, saw and heard, and which he doth here relate for the instruction +of the Faithful. To the praise of Jesus Christ and the glory of the +blessed and humble poor man of Christ, St. Francis. Amen."</i></p> + +<p>Then he set down in order in writing, without omitting aught, all he had +noted of the nymphs that turned into witches and the old man with horns +on his brow, whose voice quavered in the woods like a last sigh of the +Classic flute and a first prelude of the Christian harp. While he wrote, +the birds sang; and night closed in slowly, blotting out the bright +colours of the day. The Monk lighted his lamp, and went on with his +writing. As he recounted each several marvel he had made acquaintance +with, he carefully expounded its literal, and its spiritual, +signification, all according to the rules of rhetoric and theology. And +just as men fence about cities with walls and towers to make them +strong, so he supported all his arguments with texts of Scripture. He +concluded from the singular revelations he had received: firstly, that +Jesus Christ is Lord of all creatures, and is God + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page45" id="page45">[Pg 45]</a></span> + + of the Satyrs and the +Pans, as well as of men. This is why St. Jerome saw in the Desert +Centaurs that confessed Jesus Christ; secondly, that God had +communicated to the Pagans certain glimmerings of light, to the end they +might be saved. Likewise the Sibyls, for instance the Cumæan, the +Egyptian and the Delphic, did these not foreshadow, amid the darkness of +the Gentiles, the Holy Cradle, the Rods, the Reed, the Crown of Thorns +and the Cross itself? For which reason St. Augustine admitted the +Erythræan Sibyl into the City of God. Fra Mino gave thanks to God for +having taught him so much learning; and a great joy flooded his heart to +think Virgil was among the elect. And he wrote gleefully at the bottom +of the last leaf:</p> + +<p><i>"Here endeth the Apocalypse of Brother Mino, the poor man of Jesus +Christ. I have seen the aureole of the blessed Saints crowning the +horned forehead of the Satyr, in token that Jesus Christ hath redeemed +from the shades of limbo the sages and poets of Antiquity."</i></p> + +<p>The night was already far spent when, having finished his task, Fra Mino +stretched himself upon his bed to snatch a little repose. Just as he was +dropping asleep, an old woman came in at the window, riding on a +moonbeam. He recognized her instantly for the ugliest of the witches he +had seen in the Chapel of San Michele. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page46" id="page46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My sweet," she said, addressing him, "what have you been doing this +day? Yet we warned you, I and my pretty sisters, you must not reveal our +secrets. For if you betrayed us, we told you we should kill you. And +sorry I should be, for indeed I love you tenderly."</p> + +<p>She clipped him in her arms, called him her heavenly Adonis, her +darling, her little white ass, and lavished a thousand ardent caresses +on him.</p> + +<p>Anon, when he repulsed her with a spasm of disgust,</p> + +<p>"Child, child!" she said to him, "you scorn me, because my eyes are +rimmed with red, my nostrils rotted with the acrid, fetid humour they +distil, and my gums adorned with a single tooth, and that black and +extravagantly long. Such is your Neæra to-day, it is too true. But if +you love me, I shall once more become, by you and for you, what I was in +the golden days of Saturn, when my youth was in blossom amid the +blossoms of the young, flower-decked world. 'Tis love, oh! my young god, +that makes the beauty of things. To restore my beauty, all that is +needed is a little courage. Up, Mino, be bold and show your mettle!"</p> + +<p>At these words, which were accompanied by appropriate gestures, Fra +Mino, shuddering with fear and horror, felt himself swoon away, and + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page47" id="page47">[Pg 47]</a></span> + +slipped from his bed on to the pavement of his cell. As he fell, he +seemed to catch a glimpse, between his half-closed lids, of a nymph of +perfect shape and peerless beauty, whose naked body rolled over his like +waves of milk.</p> + +<p>He woke in broad daylight, bruised and broken by his fall. The leaves of +the manuscript he had written the night before still littered the desk. +He read them through again, folded and sealed them with his seal, put +the roll inside his gown, and unheeding the menaces the witches had +twice over given him, started to carry his revelations to the Lord +Bishop, whose Palace lifted its battlements above the roofs in the +middle of the city. He found him donning his spurs in the Great Hall, +surrounded by his men-at-arms. For the Bishop was just then at war with +the Ghibellines of Florence. He asked the Monk to what he owed his +visit, and on being informed of the matter, invited him there and then +to read out his report. Fra Mino obeyed, and the Bishop heard out his +tale to the end. He had no special lights on the subject of apparitions; +but he was animated with an ardent zeal for the interests of the Faith. +Without a day's delay, and not suffering the cares of the War to +distract him from his purpose, he appointed twelve famous Doctors in +Theology and Canon Law to examine into the affair, urging them + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page48" id="page48">[Pg 48]</a></span> + + to give +a definite and speedy decision. After mature inquiry and not without +again and again cross-questioning Fra Mino, the Doctors determined the +best thing to do was to open the tomb of San Satiro in the Chapel of San +Michele, and go through a course of special exorcisms on the spot. As to +the points of doctrine raised by Fra Mino, they declined to pronounce a +formal opinion, inclining however to regard as rash, frivolous and +new-fangled the arguments advanced by the Franciscan.</p> + +<p>Agreeably to the advice of the learned Doctors and by order of the +Bishop, the tomb of San Satiro was opened. It was found to contain +nothing but a handful of ashes, which the priests sprinkled with holy +water. At this there rose a white vapour, from which issued a sound of +faint and feeble groans.</p> + +<p>The night following this pious ceremony Fra Mino dreamed that the +witches, bending over his bed, were tearing his heart out of his bosom. +He rose at dawn, tortured with sharp pains and devoured by a raging +thirst. He dragged himself as far as the cloister well, where the doves +used to drink. But no sooner had he drained down a few drops of water +that filled a hollow in the well-head than he felt his heart swell +within him like a sponge, and with a stifled cry to God, he choked and +died.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_2" id="Footnote_1_2"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_2"><span class="label">1</span></a> +"Partner of the Father's light, light of light and day of +day, we break the dusk of night with psalms; help us now, Thy +suppliants. Remove the darkness of our minds; scatter the demon hosts +away; expel the sin of drowsiness, lest we be slack in serving Thee."</div> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_3" id="Footnote_1_3"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_3"><span class="label">2</span></a> +Now the Virgin too returns.</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page49" id="page49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<h2>MESSER GUIDO CAVALCANTI</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page50" id="page50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<h3>TO JULES LEMAÎTRE</h3> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page51" id="page51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h4>MESSER GUIDO CAVALCANTI</h4> + + +<p class="blockquot"><i>Guido, di Messer Cavalcante de' Cavalcanti, fu un de' migliori loici +che avesse il mondo, et ottimo filosofo naturale.... E perciò che egli +alquanto tenea della opinione degli Epicuri, si diceva tra la gente +volgare che queste sue speculazioni eran solo in cercare se trovar si +potesse che Iddio non fosse</i>.<a name="FNanchor_1_4" id="FNanchor_1_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_4" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 40em">(The <i>Decameron</i> of Messer Giovanni<br /> +Boccaccio, Sixth Day, Novella IX.)</p> + + +<p style="margin-left: 22em"> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">DIM</span><br /> +NON. FVI. ME.<br /> +MINI. NON. SVM.<br /> +NON. CVRO. DO.<br /> +NNIA. ITALIA. AN.<br /> +NORVM. XX. HIC.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">QVIESCO.</span><a name="FNanchor_2_5" id="FNanchor_2_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_5" class="fnanchor">2</a></p> +<br /> +<p style="margin-left: 40em">(Inscription from the <i>Cippus of Donnia</i><br /> +<i>Italia</i> as read by M. Jean-François<br /> +<i>Bladé.)</i></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page52" id="page52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<p><img src="images/m.jpg" align="left" height="97px" width="87px" title="M" alt="M" />esser Guido Cavalcanti was, in the twentieth year of his age, the most +agreeable and the best-built man of all the Florentine nobles. Beneath +his long, dark locks, which escaping from under his cap, fell in jetty +curls over his white brow, his eyes, that had a golden gleam in them, +shone out with a dazzling brilliance. He possessed the arms of Hercules +and the hands of a Nymph. His shoulders were broad, and his figure slim +and supple. He was well skilled in breaking difficult horses and +wielding heavy weapons, and a peerless rider at the ring. Whenever he +passed along the city streets to hear Mass at San Giovanni or San +Michele, or walked by Arno side in the water-meadows, that were pranked +with flowers like a beautiful picture, if any fair ladies, going in a +troop together, met him in the way, they never failed to say the one to +the other with a blush: "See, yonder is Messer Guido, son of the Lord +Cavalcante de' Cavalcanti. 'Tis a very St. George for comeliness, +pardi!" And men report that Madonna Gemma, wife of Sandro Bujamonte, one +day sent her Nurse to let him know how she loved him + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page53" id="page53">[Pg 53]</a></span> + +with all her soul, +and was like to die of longing. Nor less ardently was he invited to join +the Companies the young Florentine lords were used in those days to form +among themselves, feasting, supping, gaming and hunting together, and +sometimes so dearly loving each other that one and all would wear +garments of a like cut and colour. But with equal disdain he shunned the +society of Florentine ladies and the assemblages of her young Nobles; +for so proud and fierce was his humour, he took no pleasure but in +solitude.</p> + +<p>He would often stay all the day shut up in his chamber, then forth to +wander solitary beneath the holm-oaks that bordered the Ema road at the +hour when the first stars are a-tremble in the pale evening sky. If by +chance he encountered riders of his own age, he never laughed, and said +little—and that little was not always comprehensible. His strange +bearing and ambiguous words were a grief and a grievance to his +comrades—and above all to Messer Betto Brunelleschi, for he dearly +loved Messer Guido, and had no fonder wish than to make him one of the +Brotherhood which embraced the richest and the handsomest young noblemen +of Florence, and of which he was himself the glory and the delight. For +indeed Messer Betto Brunelleschi was reputed the fine flower of chivalry +and the most perfect knight of all Tuscany—after Messer Guido. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page54" id="page54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>One day as the latter was just entering the Porch of Santa Maria +Novella, where the Monks of the Order of Saint Dominic kept at that time +a number of books that had been brought to Italy by the Greeks, Messer +Betto, who was crossing the Piazza at the moment, loudly hailed his +friend:</p> + +<p>"Hola! Guido mine," he shouted, "whither away now, this bright day, +that invites you, methinks, to go fowling in the hills rather than hide +in the gloom of the Cloister yonder? Do me a favour, and come to my +house at Arezzo, where I will play the flute to you, for the pleasure of +seeing you smile."</p> + +<p>"Grammercy!" replied Messer Guido, without so much as deigning to turn +his head. "I am away to see my Lady."</p> + +<p>And so saying, he entered the Church, which he crossed with a rapid +step, recking as little of the Blessed Sacrament exposed on the Altar as +of Messer Betto, sitting stiff on his horse outside the door, astounded +at the words he had just heard. Guido pushed open a low portal leading +to the Cloisters, followed the Cloister wall, and arrived in the +Library, where Fra Sisto was painting the figures of angels. There, +after saluting the good Brother, he drew out from a great painted chest +one of the books newly come from Constantinople, laid it on a desk and +began to turn over the leaves. <span class='pagenum'><a name="page55" id="page55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +It was a Treatise on Love, writ in Greek by the divine Plato. Messer +Guido sighed; his hands began to tremble and his eyes filled with tears.</p> + +<p>"Alas!" he muttered; "hid beneath these signs is the Light, and I cannot +see it."</p> + +<p>He said thus to himself, because the knowledge of the Greek tongue was +then altogether lost in the West. After many a long-drawn groan, he took +the book, and kissing it, laid it in the iron chest like a beautiful +dead woman in her coffin. Then he asked the good Fra Sisto to give him +the Manuscript of the Speeches of Cicero, which he read, till the shades +of evening, glooming down on the cypresses in the Cloister garden, +spread their batlike wings over the pages of his book. For you must know +Messer Guido Cavalcanti was a searcher after truth in the writings of +the Ancients, and was for treading the arduous ways that lead mankind to +immortality. Devoured by the noble longing of discovery, he would set +out in canzones the doctrines of the old-world Sages concerning Love +which is the path to Virtue.</p> + +<p>A few days later, Messer Betto Brunelleschi came to visit him at his own +house on the promenade of the Adimari, at the peep of day, the hour when +the lark sings in the corn. He found him still abed, and after kissing +him, said tenderly:</p> + +<p>"My Guido, my Guido lad! put me out of my + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page56" id="page56">[Pg 56]</a></span> + +pain. Last week you told me +you were on your way to visit your Lady in the Church and Cloister of +Santa Maria Novella. Ever since I have been turning, turning your words +in my head, without fathoming their meaning. I shall have no peace till +you have given me an explanation of them. I beseech you, tell me what +you meant—so far, that is, as your discretion shall suffer you, seeing +the matter doth concern a lady."</p> + +<p>Messer Guido burst out a-laughing. Raising himself on his elbow in bed, +he looked Messer Betto in the eyes.</p> + +<p>"Friend!" said he, "the Lady I spoke to you of hath more than one +habitation. The day you saw me going to visit her, I found her in the +Library of Santa Maria Novella. But alack! I heard but the one half of +her discourse, for she spoke to me in both of the two languages that +flow like honey from her adorable lips. First she delivered me a +discourse in the tongue of the Greeks, which I could not comprehend, +then she addressed me in the dialect of the Latins with a wondrous +wisdom. And so well pleased was I with her conversation that I am right +fain to marry her."</p> + +<p>"Tis at the least," said Messer Betto, "a niece of the Emperor of +Constantinople, or his natural daughter.... How name you her?"</p> + +<p>"If needs be," answered Messer Guido, "we + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page57" id="page57">[Pg 57]</a></span> + +must give her a love name, +such as every poet gives to his mistress. I will call her Diotima, in +memory of Diotima of Megara, who showed the way to the lovers of Virtue. +But her public and avowed name is Philosophy, and 'tis the most +excellent bride a man can find. I want no other, and I swear by the gods +to be faithful unto death, which doth put an end to life and thought."</p> + +<p>When he heard these sentiments, Messer Betto struck his forehead with +his hand and cried:</p> + +<p>"Per Bacco! but I never guessed the riddle! Friend Guido, you have the +subtlest wit under the red lily of Florence. I heartily commend your +taking to wife so high a dame. Of a surety, will spring of this union a +numerous progeny of canzones, sonnets and ballades. I promise to baptize +you these pretty babes to the sound of my flute, with dainty mottoes +galore and gallant devices. I am the more rejoiced at this spiritual +wedlock, seeing it will never hinder you, when the time comes, to marry +according to the flesh some fair and goodly lady of the city."</p> + +<p>"Nay! you are out," returned Messer Guido. "They that celebrate the +espousals of the mind should leave carnal marriage to the profane +vulgar, which includes the great Lords, the Merchants and the +Handicraftsmen. If like me you had known my Diotima, you would have +learned, friend Betto, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page58" id="page58">[Pg 58]</a></span> + +that she doth distinguish two sorts of men, on +the one hand such as, being fruitful only by the body, strive but for +that coarse and commonplace immortality that is won by the generation of +children, on the other they whose soul conceives and engenders what is +meet for the soul to produce, to wit the Good and Beautiful. My Diotima +hath willed I should be of the second sort, and I will not go against +her good pleasure, and copy the mere brutes that breed and procreate."</p> + +<p>Messer Betto Brunelleschi by no means approved of this resolution. He +pointed out to his friend that in life we must adapt ourselves to the +different conditions and modes of existence suitable to the different +ages, that after the epoch of pleasures comes that of ambition, and that +it was good and prudent, as youth waned, to contract alliance with some +rich and noble family, affording access to the great offices of the +Republic, such as Prior of the Arts and Liberty, Captain of the People, +or Gonfalonier of Justice.</p> + +<p>Seeing however that his friend only received his advice with a lip of +disgust, as if it were some bitter drug, he said no more on the point, +for fear of angering him, deeming it wise to trust to time, which will +change men's hearts and reverse the strongest resolutions.</p> + +<p>"Sweet Guido," he interposed gaily, "tell me + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page59" id="page59">[Pg 59]</a></span> + +this much at any rate. +Doth your lady suffer you to have delight with pretty maids and to take +part in our diversions?"</p> + +<p>"For that matter," replied Messer Guido, "she hath no more care of such +things than of the encounters that small dog you see asleep yonder at +the foot of my bed may make in the street. And in very deed they are of +no account, provided a man doth himself attach no value to them."</p> + +<p>Messer Betto left the room a trifle piqued at his friend's scornful +bearing. He continued to feel the liveliest affection for his friend, +but thought it unbecoming to press him overmuch to attend the fêtes and +entertainments he gave all the Winter long with an admirable liberality. +At the same time the gentlemen of his Company resented hotly the slight +the son of the Signor Cavalcante de' Cavalcanti did them by refusing to +share their society. They began to rally him on, his studies and poring +over books, declaring that by dint of so feeding on parchment, like the +Monks and the rats, he would end up by growing to resemble these, and +would anon have nothing to show but a pointed snout and three long hairs +for beard, peeping out from under a black hood, and that Madonna Gemma +herself would cry out at sight of him: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page60" id="page60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Venus, my Patroness! what a pass have his books brought my handsome St. +George to! He is good for naught now but to throw away his lance and +hold a writing-reed in hand instead." So they miscalled him sore, saying +he toyed only with the bookworms and spiders, and was tied to the +apron-strings of Mistress Philosophia. Nor did they stop short at +such-like light raillery, but let it be understood he was too learned by +far to be a good Christian, that he was given over to Magic Arts, and +held converse with the Devils of Hell.</p> + +<p>"Folk do not lurk in hiding like that," they said to each other, "for +any reason but to foregather with the Devils, male and female, and get +gold of them as the price of revolting and shameful acts."</p> + +<p>To crown all, they charged him with sharing those false and pernicious +doctrines of Epicurus which had already seduced an Emperor at Naples and +a Pope in Rome, and threatened to turn the peoples of Europe into a herd +of swine, without a thought of God and their own immortal souls. "A +mighty fine gain," they ended up, "when his studies have brought him to +forswear the Holy Trinity!" This last charge they bruited abroad was the +most formidable of all, and might easily work ruin on Messer Guido. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page61" id="page61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now Messer Guido Cavalcanti was well aware of the mockery they made of +him in the Companies by reason of the careful heed he had of eternal +things; and this was why he shunned the society of living men and sought +rather to the dead.</p> + +<p>In those days the Church of San Giovanni was surrounded with Roman +tombs. Thither would Messer Guido often come at <i>Ave Maria</i> and meditate +far into the silent night. He believed, as the Chronicles reported, that +this fair Church of San Giovanni had been a Pagan Temple before it was a +Christian Church, and the thought pleased his soul, which was enamoured +of the old-world mysteries. Especially he loved to look on these tombs, +where the sign of the Cross found no place, but which bore Latin +inscriptions and were adorned with carven figures of men and gods. They +were long cubes of white marble, on the sides of which could be made out +representations of banquets and hunting parties, the death of Adonis, +the fight of Lapithæ and Centaurs, the refusal of the chaste Hippolytus, +the Amazons. Messer Guido would read the lettering with anxious care, +and try hard to penetrate the meaning of these fables. One tomb in +particular occupied him more than all the rest, for it showed him two +Loves, each holding a torch, and he was curious to discover the nature +of these two Loves. Well! one night that he was + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page62" id="page62">[Pg 62]</a></span> + +pondering on these +things more deeply than ever, a shadow rose up above the lid of the +tomb—a luminous shadow, as when you see, or fancy you see, the moon +shining faintly through a cloud. Gradually it took the shape of a +beautiful virgin, and said thus in a voice softer than the reeds waving +in the wind:</p> + +<p>"I am she that sleeps within this tomb, and I am called Julia Læta. I +lost the light on my marriage-day, at the age of sixteen years, three +months and nine days. Since then, whether I am, or am not, I cannot +tell. Never question the dead, stranger, for they see naught, and a +thick night environs them. 'Tis said that such as in life knew the cruel +joys of Venus roam the glades of a dense forest of myrtles. For me who +died a virgin, I sleep a dreamless sleep. They have graven two Loves on +the stone of my sepulchre. One gives mortals the light of day; the other +quenches it in their tender eyes for ever. The countenance of both is +the same, a smiling countenance, for birth and death are two twin +brothers, and all is joy to the Immortal Gods. I have spoken."</p> + +<p>The voice fell silent, like the rustling of leaves when the wind drops. +The transparent shadow vanished away in the light of dawn, which +descended clear and white on the hills; and the tombs of San Giovanni +grew wan and silent once + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page63" id="page63">[Pg 63]</a></span> + +again in the morning air. And Messer Guido +pondered:</p> + +<p>"The truth I foresaw, hath been made manifest to me. Is it not writ in +the Book the Priests use, 'Shall the dead praise Thee, O Lord?' The dead +are without thought or knowledge, and the divine Epicurus was well +advised when he enfranchised the living from the vain terrors of the +life to come."</p> + +<p>A troop of horsemen pricking across the Piazza abruptly broke up his +meditations. It was Messer Betto and his Company away to hunt the cranes +along the brookside of Peretola.</p> + +<p>"So ho!" cried one of them, whose name was Bocca, "see yonder, Messer +Guido the Philosopher, who scorns us for our good life and gentle ways +and merry doings. He seems half frozen."</p> + +<p>"And well he may be," put in Messer Doria, who was reputed a wag. "His +lady, the Moon, whom he kisses tenderly all night, hath hied her behind +the hills to sleep with some shepherd swain. He is eat up with jealousy; +look you, how green he is!"</p> + +<p>They spurred their horses among the tombs, and drew up in a ring about +Messer Guido.</p> + +<p>"Nay! nay! Messer Doria," returned Bocca, "the lady Moon is too round +and bright for so + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page64" id="page64">[Pg 64]</a></span> + +black a gallant. If you would know his mistresses, +they be here. Here he comes to find them in their bed, where he is less +like to be stung of fleas than of scorpions."</p> + +<p>"Fie! Out upon the vile necromancer!" exclaimed Messer Giordano, +crossing himself; "see what learning leads to! Folk disown God, and go +fornicating in Pagan graveyards."</p> + +<p>Leaning against the Church wall, Messer Guido let the riders have their +say. When he judged they had voided all the froth of their shallow +brains over him:</p> + +<p>"Gentle cavaliers," he answered, smiling, "you are at home. I am your +host, and courtesy constrains me to receive your insults without reply."</p> + +<p>So saying, he bounded over the tombs and walked quietly away. The +horsemen looked at one another in amazement; then bursting out laughing, +they gave spur to their steeds. As they were galloping along the +Peretola Road, Messer Bocca said to Messer Betto:</p> + +<p>"Who can doubt now but this Guido is gone mad? He told us we were at +home in the graveyard. And to say such a thing, he must needs have lost +his wits."</p> + +<p>"True it is," replied Messer Betto, "I cannot imagine what he meant to +have us understand by talking in such a sort. But he is used to + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page65" id="page65">[Pg 65]</a></span> + +expressing himself in dark sayings and subtle parables. He hath tossed +us a bone this time must be opened to find the marrow."</p> + +<p>"Pardi!" ejaculated Messer Giordano; "my dog may have this bone to gnaw, +and the Pagan that threw it to boot."</p> + +<p>They soon reached the banks of the Peretola brook, whence the cranes may +be seen rising in flocks at daybreak. During the chase, which was +abundantly successful, Messer Betto Brunelleschi never ceased pondering +the words Guido had used. And by dint of much thinking, he discovered +their signification. Hailing Messer Bocca with loud cries, he said to +him:</p> + +<p>"Come hither, Messer Bocca! I have just guessed what it was Messer Guido +meant us to understand. He told us we were at home in a graveyard, +because the ignorant be for all the world like dead men, who, according +to the Epicurean doctrine, have no faculty of thought or knowledge."</p> + +<p>Messer Bocca replied, shrugging his shoulders, he understood better than +most how to fly a Flanders hawk, to make knife-play with his enemies, +and to upset a girl, and this was knowledge sufficient for his state in +life.</p> + +<p>Messer Guido continued for several years more to study the science of +Love. He embodied his + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page66" id="page66">[Pg 66]</a></span> + +reflexions in canzones, which it is not given to +all men to interpret, composing a book of these verses that was borne in +triumph through the streets, garlanded with laurel. Then, seeing the +purest souls are not without alloy of terrestrial passions, and life +bears us one and all along in its sinuous and stormy course, it fell out +that at the turning-point of youth and age, Messer Guido was seduced by +the ambitions of the flesh and the powers of this world. He wedded, to +further his projects of aggrandizement, the daughter of the Lord +Farinata degli Uberti, the same who one time reddened the Arbia with the +blood of the Florentines. He threw himself into the quarrels of the +citizens with all the pride and impetuosity of his nature. And he took +for mistresses the Lady Mandetta and the Lady Giovanna, who represented +the one the Albigensians, the other the Ghibellines. It was the time +when Messer Dante Alighieri was Prior of the Arts and Liberty. The city +was divided into two hostile camps, those of the Bianchi and the Neri. +One day when the principal citizens were assembled in the Piazza of the +Frescobaldi, the Bianchi on one side the square and the Neri on the +other, to assist at the obsequies of a noble lady of Florence, the +Doctors and the Knights were seated as the custom was, on raised +benches, while in front of them the younger men sat on the ground on + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page67" id="page67">[Pg 67]</a></span> + +rush mats. One of the latter standing up to settle his cloak, those who +were opposite thought he was for defying them. They started to their +feet in turn, and bared their swords. Instantly every one unsheathed, +and the kinsmen of the dead lady had all the difficulty in the world to +separate the combatants.</p> + + +<p>From that day, Florence ceased to be a town gladdened by the work of its +handicraftsmen, and became a forest full of wolves ravening for each +other's blood. Messer Guido shared these savage passions, and grew +gloomy, restless and sullen. Never a day passed but he exchanged +sword-thrusts with the Neri in the streets of Florence, where in old +days he had meditated on the nature and constitution of the soul. More +than once he had felt the assassin's dagger on his flesh, before he was +banished with the rest of his faction and confined in the +plague-stricken town of Sarzana. For six months he languished there, +sick with fever and hate. And when eventually the Bianchi were recalled, +he came back to his native city a dying man.</p> + +<p>In the year 1300, on the third day after the Assumption of the Blessed +Virgin Mary, he found strength enough to drag himself as far as his own +fair Church of San Giovanni. Worn out with fatigue and grief, he lay +down on the tomb of + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page68" id="page68">[Pg 68]</a></span> + +Julia Læta, who in the old days had revealed to him the mysteries the +profane know nothing of. It was the hour when the Church bells ring out +through the quivering air of evening a long-drawn farewell to the +setting sun. Messer Betto Brunelleschi, who was crossing the Piazza on +his way home from his country house, saw amid the tombs two haggard +falcon's eyes burning in a fleshless face, and recognizing the friend of +his youth, was seized with wonder and pity.</p> + +<p>He approached him, and kissing him as he used in former days, said with +a sigh:</p> + +<p>"Ah! Guido mine! what fire is it hath consumed you away thus? You burned +up your life in science first, and then in public affairs. I beseech +you, quench somewhat the ardour of your spirit; comrade, let us husband +our strength, and, as Riccardo the blacksmith says, make up a fire to +last."</p> + +<p>But Guido Cavalcanti put his hand on his lips.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" he whispered, "hush! not a word more, friend Betto. I wait my +lady, her who shall console me for so many vain loves that in this world +have betrayed me and that I have betrayed. It is equally cruel and +useless to think and to act. This I know. The curse is not so much to +live, for I see you are well and hearty, friend Betto, and many another +man is the same. The curse is not + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page69" id="page69">[Pg 69]</a></span> + + to live, but to know we live. The +curse is to be conscious and to will. Happily there is a remedy for +these evils. Let us say no more; I await the lady whom I have never +wronged, for never have I doubted but she was gentle and true-hearted, +and I have learned by much pondering how peaceful and secure it is to +slumber on her bosom. Many fables have been told of her bed and +dwelling-places. But I have not believed the lies of the ignorant crowd. +So it is, she cometh to me as a mistress to her lover, her brow +garlanded with flowers and her lips smiling."</p> + +<p>He broke off with these words, and fell dead over the ancient tomb. His +body was buried without any great pomp in the Cloister of Santa Maria +Novella.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_4" id="Footnote_1_4"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_4"><span class="label">1</span></a> +"Guido, son of Messer Cavalcante de' Cavalcanti, was one of +the best Logicians the world held, and a most finished Natural +Philosopher.... And forasmuch as in some degree he held by the opinion +of the Epicureans, it was therefore said among the vulgar folk how that +these his speculations were only pursued for to discover if it might be +there was no God."</div> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_2_5" id="Footnote_2_5"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_2_5"><span class="label">2</span></a> +"To the Gods of the Lower World.—I was not. I remember. I +am not and I heed not. I, Donnia Italia, a maid of twenty, rest here."</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page71" id="page71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="LUCIFER" id="LUCIFER"></a>LUCIFER</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page72" id="page72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<h3>TO LOUIS GANDERAX</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page73" id="page73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<h4>LUCIFER</h4> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>E si compiacque tanto Spinello di farlo orribile e contrafatto, che si +dice (tanto può alcuna fiata l'immaginazione) che la detta figura da lui +dipinta gli apparve in sogno, domandandolo dove egli l' avesse veduta si +brutta.</i><a name="FNanchor_1_6" id="FNanchor_1_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_6" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 40em">(<i>Vite de' piu eccellenti pittori</i>, da Messer<br /> +Giorgio Vasari.—"Vita di Spinello.")</p> + +<p><img src="images/a.jpg" align="left" width="92px" height="100px" alt="A" title="A" />ndrea Tafi, painter and worker-in-mosaic of Florence, had a wholesome +terror of the Devils of Hell, particularly in the watches of the night, +when it is given to the powers of Darkness to prevail. And the worthy +man's fears were not unreasonable, for in those days the Demons had good +cause to hate the Painters, who robbed them of more souls with a single +picture than a good little Preaching Friar + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page74" id="page74">[Pg 74]</a></span> + +could do in thirty sermons. No doubt the Monk, to instil a soul-saving +horror in the hearts of the faithful, would describe to the utmost of +his powers "that day of wrath, that day of mourning," which is to reduce +the universe to ashes, <i>teste David et Sibylla</i>, borrowing his deepest +voice and bellowing through his hands to imitate the Archangel's last +trump. But there! it was "all sound and fury, signifying nothing," +whereas a painting displayed on a Chapel wall or in the Cloister, +showing Jesus Christ sitting on the Great White Throne to judge the +living and the dead, spoke unceasingly to the eyes of sinners, and +through the eyes chastened such as had sinned by the eyes or otherwise.</p> + +<p>It was in the days when cunning masters were depicting at Santa-Croce in +Florence and the Campo Santo of Pisa the mysteries of Divine Justice. +These works were drawn according to the account in verse which Dante +Alighieri, a man very learned in Theology and in Canon Law, wrote in +days gone by of his journey to Hell and Purgatory and Paradise, whither +by the singular great merits of his lady, he was able to make his way +alive. So everything in these paintings was instructive and true, and we +may say surely less profit is to be had of reading the most full and +ample Chronicle than from contemplating such representative, works of +art. Moreover, the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page75" id="page75">[Pg 75]</a></span> + +Florentine masters took heed to paint, under the +shade of orange groves, on the flower-starred turf, fair ladies and +gallant knights, with Death lying in wait for them with his scythe, +while they were discoursing of love to the sound of lutes and viols. +Nothing was better fitted to convert carnal-minded sinners who quaff +forgetfulness of God on the lips of women. To rebuke the covetous, the +painter would show to the life the Devils pouring molten gold down the +throat of Bishop or Abbess, who had commissioned some work from him and +then scamped his pay.</p> + +<p>This is why the Demons in those days were bitter enemies of the +painters, and above all of the Florentine painters, who surpassed all +the rest in subtlety of wit. Chiefly they reproached them with +representing them under a hideous guise, with the heads of bird and +fish, serpents' bodies and bats' wings. This sore resentment which they +felt will come out plainly in the history of Spinello of Arezzo.</p> + +<p>Spinello Spinelli was sprung of a noble family of Florentine exiles, and +his graciousness of mind matched his gentle birth; for he was the most +skilful painter of his time. He wrought many and great works at +Florence; and the Pisans begged him to complete Giotto's wall-paintings +in their Campo Santo, where the dead rest beneath + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page76" id="page76">[Pg 76]</a></span> + +roses in holy earth +shipped from Jerusalem. At last, after working long years in divers +cities and getting much gold, he longed to see once more the good city +of Arezzo, his mother. The men of Arezzo had not forgotten how Spinello, +in his younger days, being enrolled in the Confraternity of Santa Maria +della Misericordia, had visited the sick and buried the dead in the +plague of 1383. They were grateful to him beside for having by his works +spread the fame of their city over all Tuscany. For all these reasons +they welcomed him with high honours on his return.</p> + +<p>Still full of vigour in his old age, he undertook important tasks in his +native town. His wife would tell him:</p> + +<p>"You are rich, Spinello. Do you rest, and leave younger men to paint +instead of you. It is meet a man should end his days in a gentle, +religious quiet. It is tempting God to be for ever raising new and +worldly monuments, mere heathen towers of Babel. Quit your colours and +your varnishes, Spinello, or they will destroy your peace of mind."</p> + +<p>So the good dame would preach, but he refused to listen, for his one +thought was to increase his fortune and renown. Far from resting on his +laurels, he arranged a price with the Wardens of Sant' Agnolo for a +history of St. Michael, that was + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page77" id="page77">[Pg 77]</a></span> + +to cover all the Choir of the Church +and contain an infinity of figures. Into this enterprise he threw +himself with extraordinary ardour. Rereading the parts of Scripture that +were to be his inspiration, he set himself to study deeply every line +and every word of these passages. Not content with drawing all day long +in his workshop, he persisted in working both at bed and board; while at +dusk, walking below the hill on whose brow Arezzo proudly lifts her +walls and towers, he was still lost in thought. And we may say the story +of the Archangel was already limned in his brain when he started to +sketch out the incidents in red chalk on the plaster of the wall. He was +soon done tracing these outlines; then he fell to painting above the +high altar the scene that was to outshine all the others in brilliancy. +For it was his intent therein to glorify the leader of the hosts of +Heaven for the victory he won before the beginning of time. Accordingly +Spinello represented St. Michael fighting in the air against the serpent +with seven heads and ten horns, and he figured with delight, in the +bottom part of the picture, the Prince of the Devils, Lucifer, under the +semblance of an appalling monster. The figures seemed to grow to life of +themselves under his hand. His success was beyond his fondest hopes; so +hideous was the countenance of Lucifer, none could escape the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page78" id="page78">[Pg 78]</a></span> + + nightmare +of its foulness. The face haunted the painter in the streets and even +went home with him to his lodging.</p> + +<p>Presently when night was come, Spinello lay-down in his bed beside his +wife and fell asleep. In his slumbers he saw an Angel as comely as St. +Michael, but black; and the Angel said to him:</p> + +<p>"Spinello, I am Lucifer. Tell me, where had you seen me, that you should +paint me as you have, under so ignominious a likeness?"</p> + +<p>The old painter answered trembling, that he had never seen him with his +eyes, never having gone down alive into Hell, like Messer Dante +Alighieri; but that, in depicting him as he had done, he was for +expressing in visible lines and colours the hideousness of sin.</p> + +<p>Lucifer shrugged his shoulders, and the hill of San Gemignano seemed of +a sudden to heave and stagger.</p> + +<p>"Spinello," he went on, "will you do me the pleasure to reason awhile +with me? I am no mean Logician; He you pray to knows that."</p> + +<p>Receiving no reply, Lucifer proceeded in these terms:</p> + +<p>"Spinello, you have read the books that tell of me. You know of my +enterprise, and how I forsook Heaven to become the Prince of this World. +A tremendous adventure,—and a unique one, had + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page79" id="page79">[Pg 79]</a></span> + +not the Giants in like +fashion assailed the god Jupiter, as yourself have seen, Spinello, +recorded on an ancient tomb where this Titanic war is carved in marble."</p> + +<p>"It is true," said Spinello, "I have seen the tomb, shaped like a great +tun, in the Church of Santa Reparata at Florence. 'Tis a fine work of +the Romans."</p> + +<p>"Still," returned Lucifer, smiling, "the Giants are not pictured on it +in the shape of frogs or chameleons or the like hideous and horrid +creatures."</p> + + +<p>"True," replied the painter, "but then they had not attacked the true +God, but only a false idol of the Pagans. 'Tis a mighty difference. The +fact is clear, Lucifer, you raised the standard of revolt against the +true and veritable King of Earth and Heaven."</p> + +<p>"I will not deny it," said Lucifer. "And how many sorts of sins do you +charge me with for that?"</p> + +<p>"Seven, it is like enough," the painter answered, "and deadly sins one +and all."</p> + +<p>"Seven!" exclaimed the Angel of Darkness; "well! the number is +canonical. Everything goes by sevens in my history, which is close bound +up with God's. Spinello, you deem me proud, angry and envious. I enter +no protest, provided you + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page80" id="page80">[Pg 80]</a></span> + +allow that glory was my only aim. Do you deem +me covetous? Granted again; Covetousness is a virtue for Princes. For +Gluttony and Lust, if you hold me guilty, I will not complain. Remains +<i>Indolence</i>."</p> + +<p>As he pronounced the word, Lucifer crossed his arms across his breast, +and shaking his gloomy head, tossed his flaming locks:</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Spinello, do you really think I am indolent? Do you take me +for a coward? Do you hold that in my revolt I showed a lack of courage? +Nay! you cannot. Then it was but just to paint me in the guise of a +hero, with a proud countenance. You should wrong no one, not even the +Devil. Cannot you see that you insult Him you make prayer to, when you +give Him for adversary a vile, monstrous toad? Spinello, you are very +ignorant for a man of your age. I have a great mind to pull your ears, +as they do to an ill-conditioned schoolboy."</p> + +<p>At this threat, and seeing the arm of Lucifer already stretched out +towards him, Spinello clapped his hand to his head and began to howl +with terror.</p> + +<p>His good wife, waking up with a start, asked him what ailed him. He told +her with chattering teeth, how he had just seen Lucifer and had been in +terror for his ears.</p> + +<p>"I told you so," retorted the worthy dame; + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page81" id="page81">[Pg 81]</a></span> + +"I knew all those figures +you will go on painting on the walls would end by driving you mad."</p> + +<p>"I am not mad," protested the painter. "I saw him with my own eyes; and +he is beautiful to look on, albeit proud and sad. First thing to-morrow +I will blot out the horrid figure I have drawn and set in its place the +shape I beheld in my dream. For we must not wrong even the Devil +himself."</p> + +<p>"You had best go to sleep again," scolded his wife. "You are talking +stark nonsense, and unchristian to boot."</p> + +<p>Spinello tried to rise, but his strength failed him and he fell back +unconscious on his pillow. He lingered on a few days in a high fever, +and then died.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_6" id="Footnote_1_6"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_6"><span class="label">1</span></a> +<p>"And so successful was Spinello with his horrible and +portentous Production that it was commonly reported—so great is alway +the force of fancy—that the said figure (of Lucifer trodden underfoot +by St. Michael in the Altar-piece of the Church of St. Agnolo at Arezzo) +painted by him had appeared to the artist in a dream, and asked him in +what place he had beheld him under so brutish a form."</p> + +<p><i>Lives of the most Excellent Painters</i>, by Giorgio Vasari.—"Life of +Spinello."</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page83" id="page83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE LOAVES OF BLACK BREAD</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page84" id="page84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>TO MADEMOISELLE MARY FINALY</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page85" id="page85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<h4>THE LOAVES OF BLACK BREAD</h4> + +<p class="blockquot" style="margin-left: 22em;"><i>Tu tibi divitias stolidissime congeris amplas<br /> +Negasque micam pauperi;<br /> +Advenit ecce dies qua saevis ignibus ardens<br /> +Rogabis aquae guttulam.</i><a name="FNanchor_1_7" id="FNanchor_1_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_7" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 35em">(<i>Navis stultifera</i>, Sebastian Brandt, 1507, fol, xix.)</p> + +<p><img src="images/i.jpg" align="left" width="92px" height="100px" alt="I" title="i" />n those days Nicolas Nerli was a banker in the noble city of Florence. +Tierce was no sooner sounded than he was at his desk, and at nones he +was seated there still, poring all day long over the figures he wrote in +his table-books. He lent money to the Emperor and to the Pope. And if he +did not lend to the Devil, it was only because he was afraid of bad +debts with him they call the Wily One, and who is full of cunning and +trickery. Nicolas Nerli was bold and unscrupulous; he had won great +riches and robbed many folks of their own. Wherefore he was highly +honoured in the city of Florence. He + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page86" id="page86">[Pg 86]</a></span> + +dwelt in a Palace where the light of God's day entered only by narrow +windows; and this was a wise precaution, for the rich man's house must +be a castle, and they who possess much wealth do well to defend by force +what they have gotten by cunning.</p> + +<p>Accordingly the windows were guarded with bars and the doors with +chains. Outside, the walls were painted in fresco by clever craftsmen, +who had depicted thereon the Virtues under the likeness of women, the +Patriarchs, the Prophets and the Kings of Israel. Tapestries hung in the +rooms within, displaying the histories of Alexander and Tristram, as +they are told us in legends. Nicolas Nerli set all the city talking of +his wealth by the pious foundations he established. He had raised an +Hospital beyond the walls, the frieze of which, carved and painted, +represented the most honourable actions of his own life; in gratitude +for the sums of money he had given towards the completion of Santa Maria +Novella, his portrait was suspended in the choir of that Church. In it +he was shown kneeling, with praying hands, at the feet of the Blessed +Virgin, easily recognizable by his cap of red worsted, his furred hood, +his yellow face swimming in fatness and his little keen eyes. His good +wife, Monna Bismantova, a worthy-looking woman with a mournful air, and +seeming + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page87" id="page87">[Pg 87]</a></span> + + as though no man could ever have taken aught of pleasure with +her, was on the other side of the Virgin in the humble attitude of +supplication. Nicolas Nerli was one of the chiefest citizens of the +Republic; seeing he had never spoken against the laws, and because he +had never regarded the poor nor such folk as the great and powerful +condemn to fine and exile, nothing had lowered in the estimation of the +Magistrates the high repute he had won in their eyes by reason of his +great riches.</p> + +<p>Returning one winter evening later than usual to his Palace, he was +surrounded on the threshold by a band of half-naked mendicants who held +out their hands and asked alms.</p> + +<p>He repulsed them with hard words. But hunger making them as fierce and +bold as wolves, they formed a circle round him, and begged him for bread +in hoarse, lamentable voices. He was just stooping to pick up stones to +throw at them when he saw one of his serving-men coming, carrying on his +head a basketful of loaves of black bread, intended for the stablemen, +kitchen helpers and gardeners.</p> + +<p>He signed to the pantler to approach, and diving both hands into the +basket, tossed the loaves to the starving wretches. Then entering the +house, he went to bed and fell asleep. In + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page88" id="page88">[Pg 88]</a></span> + +the night, he was smitten +with apoplexy and died so suddenly he believed himself still in his bed +when he saw, in a place "as dark as Erebus," St. Michael the Archangel +shining in the brightness that issued from his own presence.</p> + +<p>Balance in hand, the Archangel was engaged in filling the scales. +Recognizing in the scale that hung lowest certain jewels belonging to +widow women that he had in pledge, a great heap of clippings from pieces +he had filched dishonestly, and sundry very fine gold coins which were +unique and which he had acquired by usury or fraud, Nicolas Nerli +comprehended it was his own life, now come to an end, that St. Michael +was at that instant weighing before his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Good Sir!" he said, "good St. Michael! if you put in the one scale all +the lucre I have gotten in my life, set in the other, if it please you, +the noble foundations whereby I have so splendidly shown my piety. +Forget not the Duomo of Santa Maria Novella, to which I contributed a +good third; nor my Hospital beyond the walls, that I built entirely out +of my own pocket."</p> + +<p>"Never fear, Nicolas Nerli," answered the Archangel; "I will forget +nothing."</p> + +<p>And with his own heavenly hands he set in the lighter scale the Duomo of +Santa Maria Novella + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page89" id="page89">[Pg 89]</a></span> + +and the Hospital with its frieze all carved and +painted. But the scale did not drop an inch.</p> + +<p>At this the Banker was sorely disquieted.</p> + +<p>"Good St. Michael! think again. You have not put this side of the +balance my fine holy-water stoup I gave to San Giovanni, nor the pulpit +in Sant' Andrea, where the baptism of Our Lord Jesus Christ is depicted +life-size. The artist charged me a pretty penny for it."</p> + +<p>The Archangel put both pulpit and stoup atop of the Hospital in the +scale, but still it never stirred. Nicolas Nerli began to feel a cold +sweat bathing his brow.</p> + +<p>"Good Sir! dear Archangel!" he asked, "are you quite certain your +balances are true?"</p> + +<p>St. Michael replied, smiling, that they were of a different pattern from +the balances the brokers of Paris use and the money-changers of Venice, +and were precisely accurate.</p> + +<p>"What!" sighed Nicolas Nerli, his face as white as chalk. "Duomo, +pulpit, basin, Hospital with all its beds, do they weigh no more than a +bit of straw, a pinch of down from a bird's breast?"</p> + +<p>"See for yourself, Nicolas!" said the Archangel; "so far the weight of +your iniquities much outweighs the light load of your good works." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page90" id="page90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then I must go to Hell," cried the Florentine; and his teeth chattered +with horror.</p> + +<p>"Patience, Nicolas Nerli," returned the Weigher of Souls, "patience! we +are not done yet. There is something left."</p> + +<p>So saying, the Blessed St. Michael took the loaves of black bread the +rich man had tossed the night before to the poor beggars. He laid them +in the scale containing the good works, which instantly fell, while the +other rose, and the two scales remained level. The beam dropped neither +to right nor left, and the needle marked the exact equality of the two +loads.</p> + +<p>The Banker could not believe his eyes; but the glorious Archangel said +solemnly:</p> + +<p>"See, Nicolas Nerli; you are good neither for Heaven nor Hell. Begone! +Go back to Florence! multiply through the city the loaves you gave last +night with your own hand, in the dusk, when no man saw you—and you +shall be saved. It is not enough that Heaven open its doors to the thief +that repented and the harlot that wept. The mercy of God is infinite, +and able to save even a rich man. Do this; multiply the loaves whose +weight you see weighing down my balances. Begone!"</p> + +<p>Then Nicholas Nerli awoke in his bed. He resolved to follow faithfully +the counsel of the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page91" id="page91">[Pg 91]</a></span> + + Archangel, and multiply the bread of the poor, and +so enter into the kingdom of Heaven.</p> + +<p>For the three years he spent on earth after his first death, he was very +pitiful to the unfortunate and a great giver of alms.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_7" id="Footnote_1_7"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_7"><span class="label">1</span></a> +"You heap up in your folly ample riches for yourself, and +refuse a crumb of bread to the poor man; lo! the day is at hand when +burning in cruel flames, you shall beg for a drop of water."—<i>Ship of +Fools.</i></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page93" id="page93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE MERRY-HEARTED BUFFALMACCO</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page94" id="page94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<h3>TO EUGÈNE MÜNTZ</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page95" id="page95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<h4>THE MERRY-HEARTED BUFFALMACCO</h4> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>Buonamico di Cristofano detto Buffalmacco pittore Fiorentino, il qual +fu discepolo d' Andrea Tafi, e come uomo burlevole celebrato da Messer +Giovanni Boccaccio nel suo Decamerone, fu come si sa carissimo compagno +di Bruno e di Calendrino pittori ancor essi faceti e piacevole, e, come +si può vedere nell' opere sue sparse per tutta Toscana, di assai buon +giudizio nell' arte sua del dipignere.</i></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 40em"><i>(Vite de' più eccellenti pittori</i>, da Messer<br /> +Giorgio Vasari—"Vita di Buonamico<br /> +Buffalmacco.")<a name="FNanchor_1_8" id="FNanchor_1_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_8" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_8" id="Footnote_1_8"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_8"><span class="label">1</span></a>"Buonamico di Cristofano, known as Buffalmacco, a +Florentine painter, the same that was pupil of Andrea Tafi, and +celebrated as a burlesque character by Messer Giovanni Boccaccio in his +<i>Decameron</i> was as we know bosom friend of Bruno and Calendrino, also +painters and of an even more witty and merry humour than himself, and as +may be seen in his works scattered throughout Tuscany, of no mean +judgement in his art of painting." <i>(Lives of the most Excellent +Painters</i> by Messer Giorgio Vasari.—"Life of Buonamico Buffalmacco.")</div> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page96" id="page96">[Pg 96]</a></span> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h3>THE COCKROACHES</h3> + +<p>In his callow youth, Buonamico Cristofani, Florentine, surnamed +Buffalmacco by reason of his merry humour, served his apprenticeship in +the workshop of Andrea Tafi, painter and worker-in-mosaic. Now the said +Tafi was a very knowledgeable master. Sojourning at Venice in the days +when Apollonius was covering the walls of San Marco with mosaics, he had +discovered by means of a trick certain secrets the Greek craftsmen were +for keeping sedulously to themselves. Returning to his native city, he +won so high a repute in the art of composing pictures by arranging +together a countless number of little differently coloured cubes of +glass, he could not supply all the demands addressed to him for works of +the sort, and all day and every day, from matins to vespers, he was +busy, mounted on a scaffold in some Church or other, depicting the dead +Christ, or Christ in His glory, the Patriarchs and Prophets, or the +history + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page97" id="page97">[Pg 97]</a></span> + +of Job or of Noah. And as he was likewise keen to paint in +fresco, with pounded colours, in the manner of the Greeks, which was +then the only one known, he refused himself all rest, and gave his +apprentices none either. He used to tell them:</p> + +<p>"They who like myself are in possession of noble secrets and excel in +their art should keep both mind and hand ceaselessly active to carry out +their enterprises, so as to win much wealth and leave a long memory +behind them. And if I, old and broken down as I am, spare myself no +trouble, you are bound to do your utmost to help me with all your +strength, which is fresh, hearty and undiminished."</p> + +<p>And in order that his colours, his tesseræ of molten glass and his +impastos might be all ready prepared by dawn of day, he forced the lads +to rise in the middle of the night. Nothing could well be more hateful +to Buffalmacco, who was in the habit of supping plentifully, and loved +to run the streets at an hour when, as they say, all cats are grey. He +went to bed late and slept sound, his conscience being clear enough +after all. Accordingly, when Tafi's shrill voice woke him up out of his +beauty sleep, he would only turn round on his pillow and pretend to be +deaf. But his master invariably persisted, and at a pinch + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page98" id="page98">[Pg 98]</a></span> + +would go into +the apprentice's room and very soon have the sheets dragged off the bed +and a jug of cold water emptied over the sluggard's head.</p> + +<p>Poor Buffalmacco, shivering and half dressed, would away grumbling, to +grind the colours in the dark, cold workroom, cudgelling his wits the +while, grinding and cursing all the time, to think of some way of +escaping such harsh and humiliating treatment in future. Long he sought +in vain; but his mind was an active one, and one morning early a happy +thought struck him.</p> + +<p>To put this in execution, Buffalmacco waited till his master was out of +the way. Directly day broke, Andrea Tafi, as his habit was, pocketed the +flask of Chianti and the three eggs that formed his regular breakfast, +and bidding his pupils melt the glass tesseræ according to the +directions, and take every possible pains, went off to work in the +famous church of San Giovanni, a marvellously beautiful building, +constructed with admirable art in the Classical manner. At the time he +was executing on its walls a series of mosaics representing the Angels, +Archangels, Cherubim and Seraphim, Powers, Thrones and Dominions; the +chief acts of the Almighty, from the Creation of Light to the Deluge; +the history of Joseph and his brethren, the history of Jesus Christ from +the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page99" id="page99">[Pg 99]</a></span> + + moment He was conceived in His Mother's womb till His Ascension +into Heaven, and the life of St. John Baptist. Seeing the infinite pains +he took to fix the pieces truly in the cement and arrange them +artistically, he expected both profit and fame as the result of this +great work and the host of figures it contained. Then, directly the +master was gone, Buffalmacco hastened to make his preparations for the +enterprise he was bent upon. He went down into the cellar, which, +communicating as it did with a baker's next door, was full of +cockroaches drawn thither by the smell of the sacks of flour. Everybody +knows how cockroaches, or kitchen-beetles, swarm in bakeries, inns and +corn-mills. These are a sort of crawling, stinking insects, with long, +ungainly, shaggy legs and an ugly shell of a dirty yellow.<a name="FNanchor_1_9" id="FNanchor_1_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_9" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<p>During the Civil Wars that stained the Arbia red and fertilized the +olive-yards with the blood of nobles, these loathsome insects had two +names in Tuscany: the Florentines called them Siennese, and the Siennese +Florentines.<a name="FNanchor_2_10" id="FNanchor_2_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_10" class="fnanchor">2</a></p> + +<p>The good Buffalmacco laughed to see the creatures + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page100" id="page100">[Pg 100]</a></span> + +all moving up and down and in and out, looking for all the world like +tiny shields of a host of pigmy knights jousting in a fairy tourney.</p> + +<p>"Ah, ah!" he cried to himself, "they are may-bugs bedevilled, that's +what they are! They would not enjoy the springtime, and Jupiter punished +them for their sluggishness. He has condemned them to crawl about in the +dark, weighed down by their useless wings—an object-lesson to men to +make the most of life in the heyday of youth and love."</p> + +<p>This was what Buffalmacco said to himself; for he was ready enough, like +other folk, to see in nature a symbol of his own passions and +inclinations, which were to drink, to divert himself with pretty women +and sleep his fill in a warm bed in winter and a nice cool one in +summer.</p> + +<p>However, he had not visited the cellar to ponder on symbols and emblems, +and he was not long in carrying out his plan. He caught two dozen of the +cockroaches, without regard to sex or age, and popped them in a bag he +had brought with him for the purpose. This done, he proceeded to hide +the bag under his bed, and returned to the workroom, where his comrades +Bruno and Calendrino were painting, from the master's sketches, the good +St. Francis receiving the stigmata, and meantime devising some way of +hoodwinking Memmi + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page101" id="page101">[Pg 101]</a></span> + +the cobbler, whose wife was comely and obliging.</p> + +<p>Buffalmacco, who was not less expert, far from it, than his two +comrades, mounted the ladder and started painting the wings of the +seraphic crucifix that came down from heaven to mark the Blessed Saint +with the five wounds of love, taking the utmost pains to blend in the +celestial pinions all the tenderest hues of the rainbow. The task +occupied him all day, and when old Tafi came back from San Giovanni, he +could not refrain from bestowing a few words of commendation on his +pupil. This cost him no small effort, for age and riches had made him +both cross and critical.</p> + +<p>"My lads," he said, addressing the apprentices, "those wings are painted +with a good deal of spirit. Buffalmacco might go far in the art of +painting, if he would only apply himself more vigorously. But there, his +mind is far too much set on self-indulgence; and great achievements can +only be accomplished by steady labour. Now Calendrino here would beat +you all, with his industry—if he were not a born fool."</p> + +<p>In such fashion Andrea Tafi improved the occasion with a proper +severity. Then, having said his say, he went to the kitchen to take his +supper, which consisted of a bit of salt fish; + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page102" id="page102">[Pg 102]</a></span> + +after that he betook +himself to his chamber, lay down in his bed, and was soon snoring. +Meantime Buffalmacco made his usual round through every quarter of the +city where wine was to be had cheap and girls cheaper still. This done, +he got home again half an hour or so before the time Tafi generally +woke. He drew out the bag from under his bed, took the cockroaches one +by one, and by means of a short, sharp needle fastened a little wax +taper on the back of each. Lighting the tapers, he let the insects +loose, one after the other, in the room. The creatures are too stupid to +feel pain, or if they do, to manifest any great panic. They set off +crawling over the floor, at a pace which surprise and perhaps some vague +terror made a trifle quicker than usual. Before long they started +describing circles, not because it is, as Plato says, a perfect figure, +but as a result of the instinct that always makes insects turn round and +round, in their efforts to escape any unknown danger. Buffalmacco looked +on from the vantage-ground of his bed, on which he had thrown himself, +and congratulated himself on the success of his device. And indeed +nothing could be more marvellous than these lights showing a miniature +presentment of the harmony of the spheres, such as it is set out by +Aristotle and his commentators. The cockroaches themselves were + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page103" id="page103">[Pg 103]</a></span> + +invisible; only the little flames they carried could be seen, which +seemed to be all alive. Just as these same lights were weaving in the +darkness of the room more cycles and epicycles than ever Ptolemy and the +Arabs observed as they watched the motions of the planets, Tafi's voice +made itself heard, shriller than ever, what with a cold in the head and +what with annoyance.</p> + +<p>"Buffalmacco! Buffalmacco, I say!" screamed the old fellow, coughing and +spitting, "get up, I say! Get up, you scoundrel! In less than an hour's +time, it will be broad daylight. The bugs in your bed must be built like +very Venuses, you are so loath to leave 'em. Up, you sluggard! If you +don't rise this instant, I'll drag you from between the sheets by the +hair of your head and your long ears!"</p> + +<p>These were the sort of terms in which the master would call his pupil +out of bed in the dusk of every morning, such was his zeal for painting +and mosaic-work. On this occasion receiving no reply, he drew on his +hose, but without taking time to pull them any higher than his knees, +and started for his apprentice's bedroom, stumbling at every step. This +was exactly what Buffalmacco expected, and directly he heard the clatter +of his master's footsteps on the stairs, he turned his nose to the wall +and pretended to be fast asleep. And there was old Tafi shouting up the +stairs: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page104" id="page104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hilloa! but you're a grand sleeper. I'll have you out of your slumbers, +I will, though you should be dreaming this very moment that the eleven +thousand virgins are slipping into your bed, begging you to teach 'em +what's what."</p> + +<p>With these words on his lips, Andrea Tafi shoved the door of the room +violently open.</p> + +<p>Then, catching sight of the points of fire running all over the floor, +he stopped dead on the landing and fell a-trembling in every limb.</p> + +<p>"They're devils," he thought, "never a doubt of it,—devils and evil +spirits. Why! they move with a sort of mathematical precision, which is +their strong point, I've always been told. Naturally the Demons hate us +painters, who depict them under hideous shapes, in contrast with the +Angels we represent in glory, an aureole about their brows and waving +wings of dazzling splendour. The unhappy boy is beset with devils; I can +count at least a thousand around his pallet. No doubt he has angered +Lucifer himself, by drawing some horrible picture of him. 'Tis only too +likely these ten thousand imps here will leap upon him and carry him off +alive to Hell. His doom is fixed. And alack! I have myself figured, in +mosaic and other ways, very odious caricatures of Devils, and they have +good reason to bear me a grudge too."</p> + +<p>The thought redoubled his fears, and hauling up + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page105" id="page105">[Pg 105]</a></span> + +his hose, he took to +his heels, too much terrified to think of facing the hundred thousand +hobgoblins he had seen wheeling round and round with bodies of fire, and +dashed down the stairs as fast as ever his old legs would carry him. +Buffalmacco had a fine laugh under the sheets, and for once in a way +slept on till broad daylight. Nor did his master ever again dare to go +and wake him.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_9" id="Footnote_1_9"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_9"><span class="label">1</span></a> +It would be better to speak of the wing-cases. "Shell" is +an utterly unsuitable word—not in the least fitting. The Oriental +cockroach is in question, an insect familiar in almost every part of +Europe.</div> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_2_10" id="Footnote_2_10"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_2_10"><span class="label">2</span></a> +In Russia they are termed Prussians, and in Prussia +Russians. The French call them <i>cafards</i> (canting creatures, +hypocrites).</div> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page106" id="page106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h3>THE ASCENDING UP OF ANDREA TAFI</h3> + +<p><img src="images/a.jpg" align="left" height="100px" width="92px" alt="A" title="A" />ndrea Tafi, of Florence, being chosen to decorate the cupola of San +Giovanni with mosaics, carried out the said work in the most perfect +fashion. Every figure was treated in the Greek manner, which Tafi had +learned during his sojourn at Venice, where he had seen workmen busy +adorning the walls of San Marco. He had even brought back with him from +that city a Greek by name Apollonius, who knew excellent secrets for +designing in mosaic. This Apollonius was a skilful workman and a very +clever man. He knew the proportions to be given to the different parts +of the human body and the material for mixing the best cement.</p> + +<p>Fearing the Greek might carry his knowledge and address to some other +painter of the city, Andrea Tafi never left his side day or night Every +morning he took him with him to San Giovanni, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page107" id="page107">[Pg 107]</a></span> + +and brought him home +every evening to his own house, facing San Michele, and made him sleep +there with his two apprentices, Bruno and Buffalmacco, in a room +separated merely by a partition from his own bed-chamber. And as this +partition left half a foot between the top and the beams of the ceiling, +whatever was said in one room could easily be overheard in the other.</p> + +<p>Now Tafi was a man of decent manners and pious. He was not like some +painters who, on leaving the Churches where they have been depicting God +creating the world and the infant Jesus in his holy mother's arms, go +straight to houses of ill fame to play dice and drink, play the pipes +and cuddle the girls. He had never wished for better than his good wife, +albeit she was by no means made and moulded by the Creator to afford any +great delight to men; for she was a very dry and a very chilling +personage. Then, after God had removed her from this world to a better, +in his loving mercy, Andrea took no other woman to his bosom either by +marriage or otherwise. On the contrary he was strictly continent, as +became his years, sparing himself both expense and vexation, and +pleasing God to boot, who recompenses in the next world the privations +men endure in this. Andrea Tafi was chaste, sober and well-advised.</p> + +<p>He said his prayers with unfailing regularity, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page108" id="page108">[Pg 108]</a></span> + +and being got to bed, he +never fell asleep without first invoking the Blessed Virgin in these +words:</p> + +<p>"Holy Virgin, Mother of God, which for Thy merits wast exalted alive to +Heaven, stretch forth Thy hand full of grace and mercy to me, to lift me +up to that blessed Paradise where Thou sittest on a chair of gold."</p> + +<p>And this petition old Tafi did not mumble between the two or three teeth +he had left, but spoke it out in a loud, strong voice, persuaded it is +the singing, as they say, makes the song, and that if you want to be +heard, it is best to shout. Thus it came about that Master Tafi's +supplication was overheard every night by Apollonius the Greek and the +two young Florentines who lay in the next chamber. Now it so happened +Apollonius was likewise of a merry humour, every whit as ready for a +jest as Bruno or Buffalmacco. All three itched sore to play off some +trick on the old painter, who was a just man and a god-fearing, but +hard-fisted withal and a cruel taskmaster. Accordingly one night, after +listening to the old fellow's customary address to the Virgin, the three +comrades fell a-laughing under the bed-clothes and cutting a hundred +jokes. Presently, when they heard him snoring, they began asking each +other in whispers what jape they could play off on him. Well knowing the +holy + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page109" id="page109">[Pg 109]</a></span> + +terror the old man had of the Devil, Apollonius proposed to go, +dressed in red, with horns and a mask, to drag him out of bed by the +feet. But the ingenious Buffalmacco had a better suggestion to offer:</p> + +<p>"To-morrow we will provide ourselves with a good stout rope and a +pulley, and I undertake to give you the same evening a highly diverting +exhibition."</p> + +<p>Apollonius and Bruno were curious to know what the pulley and rope were +to be used for, but Buffalmacco refused to say. Nevertheless they +promised faithfully to get him what he wanted; for they knew him to +possess the merriest wit in the world and the most fertile in amusing +contrivances, having earned his nickname of Buffalmacco for these very +qualities. And truly he knew some excellent turns, that have since +become legendary.</p> + +<p>The three friends, having nothing now to keep them awake, fell asleep +under the moon, which looking in at the garret window, pointed the tip +of one of her horns, as if in mockery, at old Tafi. They slept sound +till daybreak, when the master began hammering on the partition, and +called out, coughing and spitting as usual.</p> + +<p>"Get up, master Apollonius! Up with you, apprentices! Day's come; +Phœbus has blown + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page110" id="page110">[Pg 110]</a></span> + +out the sky candles! Quick's the word! 'Life is +short, and art long.'"</p> + +<p>Then he began threatening Bruno and Buffalmacco he would come and start +them out with a bucket of cold water, jeering and asking them:</p> + +<p>"Is your bed so delicious, eh? Have you got Helen of Troy there, you're +so loath to quit the sheets?"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile he was slipping on his hose and his old, worn hood. This done, +he sallied out, to find the lads waiting on the landing, fully dressed +and with their tools all ready.</p> + +<p>That morning, in the fair Church of San Giovanni, on the planking that +mounted to the cornice, the work went on merrily for a while. For the +last week the master had been trying his hardest to give a good +representation according to the recognized rules of art of the baptism +of Jesus Christ. He had just begun putting in the fishes swimming in the +Jordan. Apollonius was mixing the cement with bitumen and chopped straw, +pronouncing words of might known only to himself; while Bruno and +Buffalmacco were picking the little cubes of stone to be used, and Tafi +arranging them according to the sketch he had made on a slab of slate he +held in his hand. But just when the master was busiest over the job, the +three friends sprang lightly down + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page111" id="page111">[Pg 111]</a></span> + +the ladder and slipped out of the +Church. Bruno went off to the house of Calendrino, outside the walls, in +search of a pulley that was used for hoisting corn into the granary. At +the same time Apollonius hurried away to Ripoli to see an old lady, the +wife of a Judge, whom he had promised to provide with a philtre to draw +lovers to her side, and persuading her that hemp was indispensable for +compounding the potion, got her to hand him over the well-rope, a good +stout piece of cord.</p> + +<p>The two friends next met at Tafi's house, where they found Buffalmacco +awaiting them. The latter at once set to work to attach the pulley +firmly to the king-post of the roof, above the partition separating the +master's sleeping-room from his apprentices'. Then, after passing the +old lady's well-rope through the pulley, he left one end hanging down in +their own chamber, while he went into his master's apartment and +fastened the bed to the other extremity, by each corner. He took good +care the rope should be concealed behind the curtains, so that nothing +out of the way might be visible. When all was done, the three companions +went back to San Giovanni.</p> + +<p>The old man, who had been so busily engaged as scarcely to have noticed +their absence, addressed them with a beaming face: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page112" id="page112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Look you," he said, "how those fish sparkle with divers colours, and +particularly with gold, purple and blue, as creatures should which +inhabit the ocean and the rivers, and which possess so marvellous a +brilliancy of hues only because they were the first to submit to the +empire of the goddess Venus, as is all explained in the legend."</p> + +<p>Thus the master discoursed in a way full of grace and good sense. For +you must know he was a man of wit and learning, albeit his humour was so +saturnine and grasping, above all when his thoughts turned toward filthy +lucre. He went on:</p> + +<p>"Now is not a painter's trade a good one and deserving of all praise? it +wins him riches in this world and happiness in the next. For be sure Our +Lord Jesus Christ will welcome gratefully in His holy Paradise craftsmen +like myself who have portrayed His veritable likeness."</p> + +<p>And Andrea Tafi was glad at heart to be at work upon this great picture +in mosaic, whereof several portions are yet visible at San Giovanni to +this day. Presently when night came and effaced both form and colour in +all the Church, he tore himself regretfully from the river Jordan and +sought his house. He supped in the kitchen off a couple of tomatoes and +a scrap of cheese, went upstairs to his room, undressed in the dark and +got into bed. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page113" id="page113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p>No sooner was he laid down than he made his customary prayer to the +Blessed Virgin:</p> + +<p>"Holy Virgin, Mother of God, which for Thy merits wast exalted alive to +Heaven, stretch forth Thy hand full of grace and mercy to me, to lift me +up to Paradise!"</p> + +<p>The moment was come which the three companions had been eagerly awaiting +in the neighbouring room.</p> + +<p>They grasped the rope's end that hung down the partition from the +pulley, and scarcely had the good old fellow finished his supplication +when at a sign from Buffalmacco they hauled so vigorously on the cord, +that the bed fastened at the other end began to rise from the floor. +Master Andrea, feeling himself being hoisted aloft, yet without seeing +how, got it into his head it was the Blessed Virgin answering his prayer +and drawing him up to Heaven. He was panic-stricken and fell a-screaming +in a quavering voice:</p> + +<p>"Stop, stop, sweet Lady! I never asked it should be now!"</p> + +<p>And as the bed rose higher and higher, the rope working smoothly and +noiselessly over the pulley, the old man poured out the most pitiful +supplications to the Virgin Mary:</p> + +<p>"Good Lady! sweet Lady! don't pull so! Ho, there! Let go, I say!" But +she seemed + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page114" id="page114">[Pg 114]</a></span> + +not to hear a word. At this he grew furiously angry and +bellowed:</p> + +<p>"You must be deaf, you wooden-head! Let go, <i>bitch of a Madonna</i>!"</p> + +<p>Seeing he was leaving the floor for good and all, his terror increased +yet further; and, calling upon Jesus, he besought Him to make His holy +Mother listen to reason. It was high time, he asseverated, she should +give up this mischancy Assumption. Sinner that he was, and son of a +sinner, he could not, and he would not, go up to Heaven before he'd +finished the river Jordan, the waves and the fishes, and the rest of Our +Blessed Lord's history. Meanwhile the canopy of the bed was all but +touching the beams of the roofing, and Tafi was crying in desperation:</p> + +<p>"Jesus, unless you stop your Blessed Mother this instant, the roof of my +house, which cost a fine penny, will most certainly be burst up. For I +see for sure I'm going slap through it. Stop! stop! I can hear the tiles +cracking."</p> + +<p>Buffalmacco perceived that by now his master's voice was actually +strangling in his throat, and he ordered his companions to let go the +rope. This they did, the result being that the bed, tumbling suddenly +from roof to floor of the room, crashed down on the boards, breaking the +legs and splitting + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page115" id="page115">[Pg 115]</a></span> + +the panels; simultaneously the bedposts toppled over +and the canopy, curtains, hangings and all fell atop of Master Andrea, +who, thinking he was going to be smothered, started howling like a devil +incarnate. His very soul staggered under the shock, and he could not +tell whether he was fallen back again into his chamber or pitched +headlong into Hell.</p> + +<p>At this point the three apprentices rushed in, as if just awakened by +the noise. Seeing the ruins of the bed lying smothered in clouds of +dust, they feigned intense surprise, and instead of going to the old +man's help, asked him if it was the Devil had done the mischief. But he +only sighed heavily, and said:</p> + +<p>"It's all up with me; pull me out of this. I'm a dying man!"</p> + +<p>At last they dragged him from among the débris, under which he was ready +to suffocate, and placed him sitting up with his back to the wall. He +breathed hard, coughed and spat, and:</p> + +<p>"My lads," he said, "but for the timely succour of Our Lord Jesus +Christ, who hurled me back to earth again with a violence you can +plainly see the effects of, I should at this present moment be in the +circle of Heaven named the crystalline or <i>primum mobile</i>. His holy +Mother would not listen to a word. In my fall, I have lost three teeth, +which, without being exactly sound, still did + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page116" id="page116">[Pg 116]</a></span> + +me good service. +Moreover, I have an agonizing pain in my right side and in the arm that +holds the brush."</p> + +<p>"My master," said Apollonius pityingly, "you must have received some +internal hurts, which is a very dangerous thing. At Constantinople, in +the risings, I discovered how much more deadly such injuries are than +mere external wounds. But never fear, I am going to charm away the +mischief with spells."</p> + +<p>"Not for worlds!" put in the old man; "that were a deadly sin. But come +hither, all three, and do me the service, an you will, of rubbing me +well in the worst places."</p> + +<p>They did as he asked, and never left him till they had pretty well +scarified every bit of skin off the old fellow's back and loins.</p> + +<p>The good lads made it their first business to sow the story broadcast +through the city. This they did to such good effect that there was not +man, woman nor child in Florence could look Master Andrea Tafi in the +face without bursting out laughing. Now one morning Buffalmacco was +passing down the Corso, Messer Guido, the son of the Signor Cavalcanti, +who was on his way to the marshes to shoot crane, stopped his horse, +called the apprentice to him, and tossed him his purse with the words: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page117" id="page117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ho! gentle Buffalmacco, here's somewhat to drink to the health of +Epicurus and his disciples."</p> + +<p>You must know Messer Guido was of the sect of the Epicureans and loved +to marshal well-arranged arguments against the existence of God. He was +used to declare the death of men is precisely the same as that of +beasts.</p> + +<p>"Buffalmacco," added the young nobleman, "this purse I have given you is +for payment of the very instructive, complete and profitable experiment +you made, when you sent old Tafi to Heaven—who, seeing his carcass +taking the road to the Empyrean, began to squeal like a pig being +killed. This proves plainly he had no real assurance in the promised +joys of Paradise—which are, it must be allowed, far from certain. In +the same way as nurses tell children fairy-tales, vague things are +talked concerning the immortality of mortal men. The vulgar herd thinks +it believes these tales, but it does not really and truly. Hard fact +comes and shivers the poets' fables. There is nothing assured but the +sad life of this world. Horace, the Roman poet, is of my opinion when he +says: <i>Serus in cælum redeas</i>."<a name="FNanchor_1_11" id="FNanchor_1_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_11" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_11" id="Footnote_1_11"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_11"><span class="label">1</span></a> +"<i>May it be long ere you return to heaven your home</i>."—Ode +2 of Book I, addressed to Augustus.</div> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page118" id="page118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h3>THE MASTER</h3> + +<p><img src="images/h.jpg" align="left" width="92px" height="100px" alt="H" title="H" />aving learned the art of preparing and using the proper coats and +colours, as well as the secret of painting figures in the good manner of +Cimabuë and Giotto, the young Buonamico Cristofani, the Florentine, +surnamed Buffalmacco, abandoned the workshop of his master Andrea Tafi, +and proceeded to establish himself in the quarter of the fullers, +immediately opposite to the house known by the sign of the Goose's Head. +Now in those days, like fair ladies outvying one another in wearing +gowns broidered with flowers, the towns of Italy made it their pride to +cover the walls of their Churches and Cloisters with paintings. Among +all these, Florence was the most sumptuous and magnificent, and was the +place of all others for a Painter to live in. Buffalmacco knew how to +give his figures movement and expression; and, while far behind the +divine Giotto for beauty of design, he pleased the eye by the gay +exuberance of his + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page119" id="page119">[Pg 119]</a></span> + +inventions. So he was not long in getting commissions +in considerable numbers. It only depended on himself to win riches and +fame with all speed. But his chief idea was to amuse himself in company +of Bruno di Giovanni and Nello, and squander along with them, in +debauchery, all the money he made.</p> + +<p>Now the Abbess of the Ladies of Faenza, established at Florence, +determined about this time to have the Church of their Nunnery decorated +with frescoes. Hearing that there lived in the quarter of the fullers +and wool-carders a very clever painter named Buffalmacco, she despatched +her Steward thither to come to an arrangement with him as to the +execution of the proposed paintings. The master agreed to the terms +offered and undertook the commission readily enough. He had a +scaffolding erected in the Nunnery Church and on the still moist plaster +began to paint, with wondrous vigour of execution, the history of Jesus +Christ. First of all, to the right of the Altar, he illustrated the +massacre of the Holy Innocents, and succeeded in expressing so vividly +the grief and rage of the mothers trying vainly to save their little +ones from the Roman soldiers' hands, that the very wall seemed to chant +like the faithful in Church, <i>"Cur, Crudelis Herodes?..."</i> Drawn thither +by curiosity, the Nuns used to come, two + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page120" id="page120">[Pg 120]</a></span> + +or three of them together, to +watch the master at work. At sight of all these despairing mothers and +murdered babes, they could not help sobbing and shedding tears. In +particular there was one little fellow Buffalmacco had drawn lying in +his swaddling bands, smiling and sucking his thumb, between a soldier's +legs. The Nuns begged and prayed this one might not be killed:</p> + +<p>"Oh! spare him," they said to the Painter. "Do take care the soldiers +don't see him and kill him!"</p> + +<p>The good Buffalmacco answered:</p> + +<p>"For love of you, dear sisters, I will protect him all I can. But these +murderers are filled with so savage a rage, it will be a difficult +matter to stop them."</p> + +<p>When they declared "The baby <i>is</i> such a little darling!..." he offered +to make each of them a little darling prettier still.</p> + +<p>"Thank you kindly!" they answered back, laughing.</p> + +<p>The Abbess came in her turn to assure herself with her own eyes that the +work was being done satisfactorily. She was a lady of very high birth, +named Usimbalda, a proud, severe and careful personage. Seeing a man +working without cloak or hood, and like a common labourer wearing only +shirt and hose, she mistook him for some apprentice + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page121" id="page121">[Pg 121]</a></span> + +lad and did not +condescend so much as to speak to him. She came again and again, five or +six times, to the Chapel, without ever seeing any one more important +than this working fellow she deemed only fit to grind the colours. Out +of all patience at last, she showed him she was far from satisfied.</p> + +<p>"My lad," she bade him, "tell your master from me he must come and work +himself at the pictures I commissioned him to paint. I meant them to be +the work of his own hand, not a mere apprentice's."</p> + +<p>Far from declaring himself, Buffalmacco put on the look and voice of a +poor working-man, and humbly answered Usimbalda, that he saw plain +enough he was not of the sort to inspire confidence in so noble a lady, +and that his duty was to obey.</p> + +<p>"I will inform my master," he went on; "and he will not fail to put +himself at the orders of My Lady Abbess."</p> + +<p>With this assurance, the Lady Usimbalda left the Church. No sooner was +he alone than Buffalmacco arranged on the scaffolding, just at the spot +where he was at work, two stools with a crock on the top. Then going to +the corner where he had laid them, he pulled out his cloak and hat, +which as it happened were in a very fair state of freshness, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page122" id="page122">[Pg 122]</a></span> + +and put +them on the lay figure he had improvised; next, he stuck a brush in the +spout of the crock, which was turned towards the wall. This done, after +assuring himself the thing had quite the look of a man busy painting, he +decamped with all speed, determined to keep away till he had seen what +happened.</p> + +<p>Next day the Nuns paid their usual visit to the scene of action. But +finding instead of the merry fellow they were accustomed to, a stately +gentleman who held himself In the stiffest of attitudes and seemed +entirely indisposed to laugh and talk, they were afraid and took to +flight.</p> + +<p>Madame Usimbalda on the contrary, when <i>she</i> returned to the Church, was +delighted to see the master at work in lieu of the apprentice.</p> + +<p>She proceeded to give him much valuable advice, exhorting him for a good +ten minutes to paint figures that should be modest, noble and +expressive—before she discovered she was addressing her remarks to a +crock.</p> + +<p>She would hardly have found out her mistake even then, had she not grown +impatient at receiving no reply, and pulling the master by his cloak, +brought crock, stool, hat, brush and all tumbling at her feet. Then, as +she was by no means wanting in sense, she saw it was intended as a +lesson not to judge the artist by his dress. She sent her steward + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page123" id="page123">[Pg 123]</a></span> + + to +Buffalmacco, and begged him to finish what he had begun.</p> + +<p>He completed the work greatly to his credit. Connoisseurs especially +admired in these frescoes the figure of the Crucified Redeemer, the +three Marys weeping at the foot of the Cross, Judas hanged on a tree, +and a man blowing his nose. Unfortunately the paintings were all +destroyed along with the Church of the Nunnery of the Ladies of Faenza.</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page124" id="page124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h3>THE PAINTER</h3> + +<p><img src="images/e.jpg" align="left" height="90px" width="83px" alt="E" title="E" />qually famous for his wit and humour and for his skill in devising +figure subjects on the walls of Church and Cloister, Buonamico, surnamed +Buffalmacco, had already left his youth behind when he was invited from +Florence to Arezzo by the Lord Bishop of that city, who wished the halls +of his Palace decorated with paintings. Buffalmacco undertook the +commission, and directly the walls were duly laid with stucco, started +on a picture of the Adoration of the Wise Men.</p> + +<p>In the course of a few days he had painted in King Melchior complete, +mounted on a white horse, looking for all the world as if he were alive. +His horse's saddle-cloth was scarlet, dotted with precious stones.</p> + +<p>Now all the time he was at work, the Bishop's pet monkey sat staring +intently at his proceedings, never taking his eyes off him. Whether the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page125" id="page125">[Pg 125]</a></span> + +painter was squeezing his tubes, mixing his colours, beating up his eggs +or laying on the colour with his brush on the moist surface, the +creature never lost one of his movements. It was a baboon brought from +Barbary for the Doge of Venice in one of the State Galleys. The Doge +made a present of it to the Bishop of Arezzo, who thanked his +Magnificence, reminding him prettily how King Solomon's ships had in +like fashion imported from the land of Ophir apes and peacocks, as is +related in the First Book of Kings (x. 22). And there was nothing in all +his Palace Bishop Guido held more precious than this baboon.</p> + +<p>He left the animal to roam at liberty about the halls and gardens, where +it was for ever at some mischievous trick or another. One Sunday, during +the painter's absence, the creature climbed up on the scaffolding, laid +hold of the tubes, mixed up the colours in a way of its own, broke all +the eggs it could find, and began plying the brush on the wall, as it +had seen the other do. It worked away at King Melchior and his horse, +never leaving off till the whole composition was repainted according to +its own ideas.</p> + +<p>Next morning Buffalmacco, finding his colours all topsy-turvy and his +work spoiled, was both grieved and angry. He was persuaded some painter +of Arezzo, who was jealous of his superior skill, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page126" id="page126">[Pg 126]</a></span> + +had played him this +dirty trick, and went straight to the Bishop to complain. The latter +urged him to set to work again and repair with all speed what had been +ruined in a manner so mysterious. He undertook that for the future two +soldiers should keep guard night and day before the frescoes, with +orders to drive their lances through any one who should dare to come +near. On this condition, Buffalmacco agreed to resume his task, and two +soldiers were put on sentry close at hand. One evening, just as he was +leaving the hall, his day's work finished, the soldiers saw the Lord +Bishop's ape spring so nimbly into his place on the scaffold and seize +the colour-tubes and brushes with such rapidity there was no possibility +of stopping him. They shouted lustily to the painter, who came back just +in time to see the baboon paint over for the second time King Melchior, +the white horse and the scarlet saddle-cloth. The sight was like to move +poor Buffalmacco at one and the same time to laughter and tears.</p> + +<p>He went off to the Bishop and thus addressed him:</p> + +<p>"My Lord Bishop, you are good enough to admire my style of painting; but +your baboon prefers a different. What need to have had me summoned here, +when you had a master painter + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page127" id="page127">[Pg 127]</a></span> + +in your own household? It may be he +lacked experience. But now he has nothing left to learn, my presence +here is quite unnecessary, and I will back to Florence."</p> + +<p>Having so said, the good Buffalmacco returned to his inn, in great +vexation. He ate his supper without appetite and went to bed in a very +dismal frame of mind.</p> + +<p>Then the Lord Bishop's ape appeared to him in a dream, not a mere +mannikin as he was in reality, but as tall as Monte San Gemignano, +cocking up a prodigious tail and tickling the moon. He was squatted in +an olive wood among the farms and oil-presses, while betwixt his legs a +narrow road ran alongside a row of flourishing vineyards. Now the said +road was thronged with a multitude of pilgrims, who defiled one by one +before the painter's eyes. And lo! Buffalmacco recognized the countless +victims of his practical jokes and merry humour generally.</p> + +<p>He saw, to begin with, his old master Andrea Tafi, who had taught him +how men win renown by practice of the arts, and whom in return he had +befooled again and again, making him mistake for devils of hell a dozen +wax tapers pinned on the backs of a lot of great cockroaches, and +hoisting him in his bed to the joists of the ceiling, so that the poor +old fellow thought + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page128" id="page128">[Pg 128]</a></span> + +he was being carried up to heaven and was in mortal +terror.</p> + +<p>He saw the wool-carder of the <i>Gooses Head</i>, and his wife, that notable +woman, at the spinning-wheel. Into this good dame's cooking-pot +Buffalmacco had been wont every evening to throw big handfuls of salt +through a crack in the wall, so that day after day the wool-carder would +spit out his porridge and beat his wife.</p> + +<p>He saw Master Simon de Villa, the Bolognese physician, to be known by +his Doctor's cap, the same he had pitched into the cesspool beside the +Convent of the Nuns of Ripoli. The Doctor ruined his best velvet gown, +but nobody pitied him, for regardless of his good wife's claims, a plain +woman but a Christian, he had longed to bed with Prester John's +Chinchimura, who wears horns betwixt her sinful buttocks. Good +Buffalmacco had persuaded the Doctor he could take him o' nights to the +Witches' Sabbath, where he went himself with a merry company to make +love to the Queen of France, who gave him wine and spices for his +doughty deeds. Simon accepted the invitation, hoping he should be +treated right royally too. Then Buffalmacco having donned a beast's skin +and a horned mask such as they wear at merry-makings, came to Master +Simon, declaring he was a devil ordered to conduct him to the Sabbath. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page129" id="page129">[Pg 129]</a></span> + +Taking him on his shoulders, he carried him to the edge of a pit full of +filth, where he pitched him in head first.</p> + +<p>Next Buffalmacco saw Calendrino, whom he had got to believe that the +stone Heliotropia was to be found in the plain of the Mugnone, which +stone possesses the virtue of rendering invisible whosoever bears it +about his person. He took him to Mugnone along with Bruno da Giovanni, +and when Calendrino had picked up a very large number of stones, +Buffalmacco suddenly pretended he could not see him, crying out: "The +scamp has given us the slip; an I catch him, I'll bang his behind with +this paving-stone!" And he landed the stone exactly where he said he +would, without Calendrino having any right to complain, because he was +invisible. This same Calendrino was without any sense of humour, and +Buffalmacco played on his simplicity so far as to make him actually +believe he was with child, and got a brace of fat capons out of him as +fee for his safe delivery.</p> + +<p>Next Buffalmacco saw the countryman for whom he had painted the Blessed +Virgin with the Infant Jesus in her arms, afterwards changing the babe +into a bear's cub.</p> + +<p>He saw moreover the Abbess of the Nuns of Faenza, who had commissioned +him to paint the walls of the Convent Church in fresco, and he told + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page130" id="page130">[Pg 130]</a></span> + +her +on his oath and honour you must mix good wine with the colours, if the +flesh tints are to be really brilliant. So the Abbess gave him for every +Saint, male or female, depicted in his pictures a flask of the wine +reserved for Bishops' drinking, which he poured down his throat, +trusting to vermilion to bring out the warm tints. The same Lady Abbess +it was he deceived, making her take a pitcher with a cloak thrown over +it for a master painter, as has been already recounted.</p> + +<p>Buffalmacco saw, besides, a long line of other folks he had befooled, +cajoled, cozened and bemocked. Closing the rear, marched with crozier, +mitre and cope, the great Sant' Ercolano, whom in a merry mood he had +represented in the Great Square of Perugia, girt about with a garland of +gudgeons.</p> + +<p>All as they passed paid their compliment to the ape which had avenged +them; and the monster, opening a great mouth wider than the jaws of +hell, broke into a mocking laugh.</p> + +<p>For the first time in his life Buffalmacco had a downright bad night's +rest.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page131" id="page131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE LADY OF VERONA</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page132" id="page132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<h3>TO HUGUES REBELL</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page133" id="page133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + +<h4>THE LADY OF VERONA</h4> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>"Puella autem moriens dixit: 'Satanas, trado tibi corpus meum cum anima +mea.'" (Quadragesimale opus declamatum Parisiis in ecclesia Sti. +Johannis in Gravia per venerabilem patrem Sacrae scripturae interpretem +eximium Ol. Maillardum, 151.1</i>)<a name="FNanchor_1_12" id="FNanchor_1_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_12" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + + +<p><i>The following was found by the Reverend Father Adone Doni, in the +Archives of the Monastery of Santa Croce, at Verona.</i></p> + +<p>Signora Eletta of Verona was so wondrous fair and of so perfect a grace +of body, that the learned of the city, they who had knowledge of history +and legend, were used to call her lady mother by the names of Latona, +Leda and Semele, making implication thereby of their belief that the +fruit of her womb had been framed in her by a god, Jupiter, rather than +by any mortal man, such as were her husband and + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page134" id="page134">[Pg 134]</a></span> + +lovers. But the wiser heads, notably the Fra Battista, whose successor I +am as Superior of Santa Croce, held that such exceeding beauty of the +flesh came of the operation of the Devil, who is an artist in the sense +the dying Nero understood the word when he said, "<i>Qualis artifex +pereo</i>!"<a name="FNanchor_1_13" id="FNanchor_1_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_13" class="fnanchor">2</a> And we may be sure Satan, the enemy of God, who is cunning +to work the metals, excels likewise in the moulding of human flesh.</p> + +<p>I myself, who am writing these lines, possessing no small acquaintance +with the world, have many a time seen church bells and figures of men +wrought by the Enemy of Mankind—and the craftsmanship thereof +admirable. Likewise have I had knowledge of children engendered in women +by the Devil, but on this matter my tongue is tied by the obligation of +secrecy binding on every Confessor. I will limit myself, therefore, to +saying that many strange tales were bruited concerning the birth of the +Signora Eletta. I saw this lady for the first time on the Piazza of +Verona on Good Friday of the year 1320, when she had just completed her +fourteenth year. And I have beheld her since in the public walks and the +Churches ladies most favour. She was like a picture painted by a very +excellent limner.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page135" id="page135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p>She had hair of wavy gold, a white brow, eyes of a colour never seen but +in the precious stone called aquamarine, cheeks of rose, a nose straight +and finely cut. Her mouth was a Cupid's bow, that wounded with its +smiles; and the chin was as full of laughter as the mouth. Her whole +body was framed to perfection for the delight of lovers. The breasts +were not of exaggerated size; yet showed beneath the muslin two swelling +globes of a full and most winsome roundness. As well by reason of my +sacred character, as because I never saw her but clad in her walking +dress and her limbs half hidden, I will not describe the other parts of +her fair body, which one and all proclaimed their perfection through the +stuffs that veiled them. I will only assure you, that when she was in +her accustomed place in the Church of San Zenone, there was never a +movement she could make, whether to rise to her feet or drop on her +knees or prostrate herself with forehead touching the stones, as is meet +to do at the instant of the elevation of the blessed body of Jesus +Christ, without straightway inspiring the men that saw her with an +ardent longing to hold her pressed to their bosom.</p> + +<p>Now it came about that Signora Eletta married, when about the age of +fifteen, Messer Antonio Torlota, an Advocate. He was a very learned + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page136" id="page136">[Pg 136]</a></span> + +man, of good repute, and wealthy, but already far advanced in years, and +so heavy and misshapen, that seeing him carrying his papers in a great +leathern bag, you could scarcely tell which bag it was dragging about +the other.</p> + +<p>It was pitiful to think how, as the result of the holy sacrament of +wedlock, which is instituted among men for their glory and eternal +salvation, the fairest lady of Verona was bedded with so old a man, all +ruinate in health and vigour. And wise folk saw with more pain than +wonder that, profiting by the freedom allowed her by her husband, busied +all night long as he was solving the problems of justice and injustice, +Messer Torlota's young wife welcomed to her bed the handsomest and most +proper cavaliers of the city. But the pleasure she took therein came +from herself, not from them at all. It was her own self she loved, and +not her lovers. All her enjoyment was of the loveliness of her own +proper flesh, and of nothing else. Herself was her own desire and +delight, and her own fond concupiscence. Whereby, methinks, the sin of +carnal indulgence was, in her case, enormously aggravated.</p> + +<p>For, albeit, this sin must ever divide us from God—a sufficient sign of +its gravity—yet is it true to say that carnal offenders are regarded by +the Sovereign Judge, both in this world and the next, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page137" id="page137">[Pg 137]</a></span> + +with less +indignation than are covetous men, traitors, murderers, and wicked men +who have made traffic of holy things. And the reason of this is that the +naughty desires sensualists entertain, being directed towards others +rather than to themselves, do still show some degraded traces of true +love and gentle charity.</p> + +<p>But nothing of the kind was to be seen in the adulterous amours of the +Signora Eletta, who in every passion loved herself and herself only. And +herein was she much wider separated from God than so many other women +who gave way to their wanton desires. For in their case these desires +were towards others, whereas the Lady Eletta's had none but herself for +their object. What I say hereanent, I say to make more understandable +the conclusion of the matter, which I must now relate.</p> + +<p>At the age of twenty she fell sick and felt herself to be dying. Then +she bewailed her fair body with the most piteous tears. She made her +women dress her out in her richest attire, looked long and steadfastly +at herself in the mirror, fondled with both hands her bosom and hips, to +enjoy for the last time her own exceeding beauty. And, aghast at the +thought of this body she so adored being eaten of the worms in the damp +earth, she said, as she breathed her last, with a great sigh of faith +and hope: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page138" id="page138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Satan, best beloved Satan! take thou my soul and my body; Satan, gentle +Satan! hear my prayer: take, take my body along with my soul."</p> + +<p>She was borne to San Zenone, as custom ordains, with her face uncovered; +and, within the memory of man, none had ever seen a dead woman look so +lovely. While the priests were chanting the offices for the dead around +her bier, she lay as if swooning with delight in the arms of an +invisible lover. When the ceremony was over, the Signora Eletta's +coffin, carefully closed and sealed, was deposited in holy ground, amid +the tombs that surrounded San Zenone, and of which some are Ancient +Roman monuments. But next morning the earth they had thrown over the +dead woman was found removed, and there lay the coffin open and empty.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_12" id="Footnote_1_12"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_12"><span class="label">1</span></a> +"But the dying girl said, 'Satan, I give over my body to +you along with my soul.'" (Lenten Sermon preached at Paris in the Church +of St. Jean-en-Grève by that venerable father and excellent expounder of +Holy Scripture, Olivier Maillard, 1511.)</div> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_13" id="Footnote_1_13"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_13"><span class="label">2</span></a> +"What an artist dies in me!" "Oh! the loss to Art! the loss +to Art!"</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page139" id="page139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE HUMAN TRAGEDY</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page140" id="page140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + +<h3>TO J.H. ROSNY</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page141" id="page141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<h4>THE HUMAN TRAGEDY</h4> + +<p class="blockquot" style="margin-left: 22em"><i>Πᾶς δ' ὀδυνηρὸς βίος ἀνθρώπων,<br /> +κοὐκ ἔστι πόων ἀνάπαυσις.<br /> +ἄλλο τι τοῦ ζῆν φίλτερον, ἀλλ' ὃ<br /> +σκότος ἀμπίσχων κρύπτει νεφέλαις.</i></p> + + +<p style="margin-left: 42em">(Euripides, <i>Hippolytus</i>, 190 sqq.)<a name="FNanchor_1_14" id="FNanchor_1_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_14" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_14" id="Footnote_1_14"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_14"><span class="label">1</span></a> +"All the life of man is full of pain, and there is no +surcease of sorrow. If there be aught better elsewhere than this present +life, it is hid shrouded in the clouds of darkness."</div> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h3>FRA GIOVANNI</h3> + +<p><img src="images/i1.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="85px" alt="I" title="I" />n those days the holy man, who, born though he was of human parents, +was veritably a son of God, and who had chosen for his bride a maiden +that folk open the door to as reluctantly as to Death itself, and never +with a smile,—the poor man of Jesus Christ, St. Francis, was gone up to +the Skies. Earth, which he had perfumed with his virtues, kept only his +body and the fruitful seed of his words. His sons in the spirit grew +meantime, and multiplied + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page142" id="page142">[Pg 142]</a></span> + +among the Peoples, for the blessing of Abraham was upon them.</p> + +<p>Kings and Queens girded on the cord of St. Francis, the poor man of +Jesus Christ. Men in multitudes sought in forgetfulness of self and of +the world the secret of true happiness; and flying the joy of life, +found a greater joy.</p> + +<p>The Order of St. Francis spread fast through all Christendom, and the +Houses of the Poor Men of the Lord covered the face of Italy, Spain, the +two Gauls and the Teutonic lands. In the good town of Viterbo arose a +House of peculiar sanctity. In it Fra Giovanni took the vows of Poverty, +and lived humble and despised, his soul a garden of flowers fenced about +with walls.</p> + +<p>He had knowledge by revelation of many truths that escape clever and +world-wise men. And ignorant and simple-minded as he was, he knew things +unknown to the most learned Doctors of the age.</p> + +<p>He knew that the cares of riches make men ill-conditioned and wretched, +and that coming into the world poor and naked, they would be happy, if +only they would live as they were born. He was poor and merry-hearted. +His delight was in obedience; and renouncing the making of plans of any +sort for the future, he relished the bread of the heart. For the weight +of human + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page143" id="page143">[Pg 143]</a></span> + +actions is a heavy load, and we are trees bearing poisoned +fruit. He was afraid to act, for is not all effort painful and useless? +He was afraid to think, for thought is evil.</p> + +<p>He was very humble, knowing how men have nothing of their own that they +should boast of, and that pride hardens the heart. He knew, moreover, +that they who possess for all wealth only the riches of the spirit, if +they make boast of their treasure, so far lower themselves to the level +of the great ones of the earth.</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni outdid in humility all the Monks of the House of +Viterbo. The Superior of the Monastery, the holy Brother Silvester, was +less righteous than he, forasmuch as the master is less righteous than +the servant, the mother less innocent than the babe.</p> + +<p>Observing that Fra Giovanni had a way of stripping himself of his gown +to clothe the suffering members of Jesus Christ, the Superior forbade +him, in the name of holy obedience, to give away his garments to the +poor. Now the same day this command was laid on him, Giovanni went, as +his wont was, to pray in the woods that cover the slopes of Monte +Cunino. It was Winter time; snow was falling, and the wolves coming down +into the villages.</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni kneeling down at the foot of an + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page144" id="page144">[Pg 144]</a></span> + +oak, spoke to God, as +might one friend to another, and besought Him to take pity on all +orphans, prisoners and captives, to take pity on the master of the +fields sorely harried by the Lombard usurers, to take pity on the stags +and hinds of the forest chased by the hunters, and on all trapped +creatures, whether of fur or feathers. And lo! he was rapt away in an +ecstasy, and saw a hand pointing in the sky.</p> + +<p>When presently the sun had slipped behind the mountains, the man of God +arose from his knees and took the path to the Monastery. On the white, +silent road thither, he met a beggar, who asked him an alms for the love +of God.</p> + +<p>"Alas!" he told him, "I have nothing but my gown, and the Superior has +forbidden me to cut it in two so as to give away the half. Therefore I +cannot divide it with you. But if you love me, my son, you will take it +off me whole and undivided."</p> + +<p>On hearing these words, the beggar promptly stripped the Friar of his +gown.</p> + +<p>So Fra Giovanni went on his way naked under the falling snow, and +entered the city. As he was crossing the Piazza with nothing on but a +linen cloth about his loins, the children who were running at play in +the Great Square made mock at him. In derision, they shook their fists +in his + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page145" id="page145">[Pg 145]</a></span> + +face with the thumb stuck between the first and middle fingers, +and threw snow at him mixed with mud and small stones.</p> + +<p>Now there lay in the Great Square some logs of timber for the woodwork +of a house, and one of the logs happened to be balanced across another. +Two children ran and took their places, one at each end of the beam, and +began playing see-saw—two of the same children who had made mock of the +holy man and thrown stones at him.</p> + +<p>He went up to them now smiling, and said:</p> + +<p>"Dear little children, will you suffer me to share your game?"</p> + +<p>And sitting down on one end of the beam, he see-sawed up and down +against the two little ones.</p> + +<p>And some of the citizens happening to pass that way, said, wondering:</p> + +<p>"Truly and indeed the man is out of his wits."</p> + +<p>But after the bells had rung the <i>Ave Maria</i>, Fra Giovanni was still at +see-saw. And it chanced that certain Priests from Rome, who had come to +Viterbo to visit the Mendicant Friars, whose fame was great through the +world, just then crossed the Great Square. And hearing the children +shouting, "Look! little Brother Giovanni's here," the Priests drew near +the Monk, and saluted him very respectfully. But the holy man never +re + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page146" id="page146">[Pg 146]</a></span> + +turned their salute, but making as though he did not see them, went +on see-sawing on the swaying beam. So the Priests said to each other:</p> + +<p>"Come away; the fellow is a mere dunce and dullard!"</p> + +<p>Then was Fra Giovanni glad, and his heart overflowed with joy. For these +things he did out of humility and for the love of God. And he put his +joy in the scorn of men, as the miser shuts his gold in a cedarn chest, +locked with a triple lock.</p> + +<p>At nightfall he knocked at the Monastery door, and being admitted, +appeared among the Brethren naked, bleeding, and covered with mire. He +smiled and said:</p> + +<p>"A kind thief took my gown, and some children deemed me worthy to play +with them."</p> + +<p>But the Brothers were angry, because he had dared to pass through the +city in so undignified a plight.</p> + +<p>"He feels no compunction," they declared, "about exposing the Holy Order +of St. Francis to derision and disgrace. He deserves the most exemplary +punishment."</p> + +<p>The General of the Order, being warned a great scandal was ruining the +sacred Society, called together all the Brethren of the Chapter, and +made Fra Giovanni kneel humbly on his knees in the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page147" id="page147">[Pg 147]</a></span> + +midst of them all. +Then, his face blazing with anger, he chid him harshly in a loud, rough +voice. This done, he consulted the assembly as to the penance it was +meet to impose on the guilty Brother.</p> + +<p>Some were for having him put in prison or suspended in an iron cage from +the Church steeple, while others advised he should be chained up for a +madman.</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni, beaming with satisfaction, told them:</p> + +<p>"You are very right, my Brethren; I deserve these punishments, and worse +ones still. I am good for nothing but foolishly to waste and squander +the goods of God and of my Order."</p> + +<p>And Brother Marcian, who was a man of great sternness both of life and +doctrine, cried:</p> + +<p>"Hear him! he talks like a hypocrite; that honeyed voice of his issues +from a whited sepulchre."</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni said again:</p> + +<p>"Brother Marcian, I am indeed capable of every infamy—but for God's +good help."</p> + +<p>Meantime the General was pondering over the strange behaviour of Fra +Giovanni, and he besought the Holy Spirit to inspire the judgment he was +to give. And lo! as he prayed, his anger was changed into admiration. He +had known + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page148" id="page148">[Pg 148]</a></span> + +St. Francis in the days when that Angel of Heaven, born of a +woman, was a sojourner in this world, and the ensample of the favourite +follower of Christ had taught him the love of spiritual perfection.</p> + +<p>So his soul was enlightened, and he recognized in the works of Fra +Giovanni a divine innocency and beauty.</p> + +<p>"My brethren," he said at length, "far from blaming our Brother, let us +admire the grace he receives so abundantly from God. In very truth he is +a better man than we. What he has done, he has done in imitation of +Jesus Christ, who 'suffered the little children to come unto Him,' and +let the Roman soldiers strip Him of His garments."</p> + +<p>Then he thus addressed the kneeling Fra Giovanni:</p> + +<p>"This, Brother, is the penance I lay upon you. In the name of that holy +obedience you owe St. Francis, I command you go forth into the country, +and the first beggar you meet, beg him to strip you of your tunic. Then, +when he has left you naked, you must come back into the city, and play +in the Public Square With the little children."</p> + +<p>Having so said, the General of the Order came down from his chair of +state, and, raising Fra + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page149" id="page149">[Pg 149]</a></span> + +Giovanni from the ground, fell on his own knees +before him and kissed his feet. Then, turning to the assembled Monks, he +said to them:</p> + +<p>"In very truth, my Brethren, this man is the good God's plaything."</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page150" id="page150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h3>THE LAMP</h3> + +<p><img src="images/i.jpg" align="left" height="100px" width="92px" alt="I" title="I" />n those days the truth was revealed to Fra Giovanni that the riches of +this world come from God and should be the heritage of the poor, who are +the favourite children of Jesus Christ.</p> + +<p>Christian folk were busy celebrating the Saviour's birth; and Fra +Giovanni had come to the town of Assisi, which is set upon a +mountain-top, and from this mountain first rose the Sun of Charity.</p> + +<p>Now the day before Christmas eve, Fra Giovanni was kneeling in prayer +before the Altar under which St. Francis sleeps in a stone coffin. And +he was meditating, dreaming how St. Francis was born in a stable, like +Jesus. And while he was pondering, the Sacristan came up to him and +asked him of his goodness to look after the Church while he ate his +supper. Church and Altar were both loaded with precious ornaments; gold +and silver were there in abundance, for the sons of St. Francis had +long + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page151" id="page151">[Pg 151]</a></span> + +fallen from their early poverty, and had received gifts from the +Queens of the Earth.</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni assured the Sacristan:</p> + +<p>"Go, Brother, and enjoy your meal. I will guard the Church, as Our Lord +would have it guarded."</p> + +<p>And so saying, he went on with his meditations. And as he knelt there +alone in prayer, a poor woman entered the Church and asked an alms of +him for the love of God.</p> + +<p>"I have nothing," the holy man replied; "but the Altar is loaded with +ornaments, and I will go see if I cannot find something to give you." A +golden lamp hung above the Altar, decked about with silver bells. +Examining the lamp, he said to himself:</p> + +<p>"Those little bells are but idle vanities. The true ornament of yonder +Altar is the body of St. Francis, which reposes naked under the flags +with a black stone for a pillow."</p> + +<p>And drawing his knife from his pocket, he detached the little silver +bells, one after the other, and gave them to the poor woman.</p> + +<p>Presently, when the Sacristan, his meal finished, returned to the +Church, Fra Giovanni, the holy man of God, said to him:</p> + +<p>"Never trouble, my brother, about the little bells that belonged to the +lamp. I have given + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page152" id="page152">[Pg 152]</a></span> + +them away to a poor woman who had need of them."</p> + +<p>Now Fra Giovanni did in this wise, because he knew by revelation that +all the things in this world, belonging to God, belong of rights to the +poor.</p> + +<p>And he was blamed on earth by men whose thoughts were given over to +riches. But he was found praiseworthy in the sight of the Divine +Goodness.</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page153" id="page153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h3>THE SERAPHIC DOCTOR</h3> + +<p><img src="images/f.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="84px" alt="F" title="F" />ra Giovanni was not proficient in the knowledge of letters, and he +rejoiced in his ignorance as being an abundant source of humiliations.</p> + +<p>But after watching one day in the Cloister of Santa Maria degli Angeli a +number of Doctors of Theology in meditation on the perfections of the +Most Holy Trinity and the Mysteries of the Passion, he began to doubt +whether they did not possess the love of God more fully than he, by +reason of their wider knowledge.</p> + + +<p>He was afflicted in his soul, and for the first time in his life fell +into melancholy. But sadness was unnatural to one in his estate; for joy +is the inheritance of the poor.</p> + +<p>He resolved to carry his difficulty to the General of the Order, to be +rid of it as of a galling burden. Now Giovanni di Fidanza was General of +the Order in those days. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page154" id="page154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the cradle he had received from St. Francis himself the name of +Bonaventure. He had studied Theology at the University of Paris; and he +excelled in the science of Love, which is the science of God. He knew +the four degrees which lift the creature to his Creator, and he pondered +on the mystery of the six wings of the Cherubim. This was the reason why +he was called the Seraphic Doctor.</p> + +<p>And he was well aware that Science is vain without Love. Fra Giovanni +found him walking in his garden, on the terrace overlooking the city.</p> + +<p>It was a Sunday; and the handicraftsmen of the town and the peasants who +work in the vineyards were climbing, at the foot of the terrace, the +steep street that leads to the Church.</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni, seeing Brother Bonaventure in the garden, in the midst +of the lilies, drew near and said:</p> + +<p>"Brother Bonaventure, free my mind of the doubt that is tormenting me, +and tell me: Can an ignorant man love God with as great love as a +learned Doctor of the Church?"</p> + +<p>And Brother Bonaventure answered:</p> + +<p>"I will tell you the truth, Fra Giovanni; a poor old woman may not only +equal but surpass all the Doctors of Theology in the world. And seeing +the sole excellence of man lies in loving, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page155" id="page155">[Pg 155]</a></span> + +I tell you again—the most +ignorant of women shall be exalted in Heaven above the Doctors."</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni, on hearing these words, was filled with great joy; and, +leaning out over the low wall of the garden, looked lovingly at the +passers-by. Then he cried out at the top of his voice:</p> + +<p>"Ho! you poor women, ignorant and simple-minded, you shall be set in +Heaven above Brother Bonaventure."</p> + +<p>And the Seraphic Doctor, hearing the good Brother's proclamation, smiled +sweetly where he stood among the lilies of his garden.</p> + +<hr width="33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page156" id="page156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h3>THE LOAF ON THE FLAT STONE</h3> + +<p><img src="images/f.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="84px" alt="F" title="F" />orasmuch as the good St. Francis had bidden his sons to "Go, beg your +bread from door to door," Fra Giovanni was one day sent to a certain +city. Having passed the Gate, he went up and down the streets to beg his +bread from door to door, according to the rule of the Order, for the +love of God.</p> + +<p>But the folk of that city were more covetous than the men of Lucca, and +harder than they of Perugia. The bakers and tanners who were dicing +before their shop-doors, repulsed the poor man of Jesus Christ with +harsh words. Even the young women, holding their new-born babes in their +arms, turned their faces from him. And when the good Brother, whose joy +was in dishonour, smiled at the refusals and insults he received,</p> + +<p>"He is laughing at us," said the townsmen to each other. "He is a born +fool—or say rather a vagabond impostor and a drunkard. He has +over-drunk + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page157" id="page157">[Pg 157]</a></span> + +himself with wine. It were a sin and a shame to give him so +much as a crumb of bread from our hutch."</p> + +<p>And the good Brother answered:</p> + +<p>"You say true, my friends; I am not worthy to stir your pity, nor fit to +share the food of your dogs and your pigs."</p> + +<p>The children, who were just then coming out of school, overheard what +was said, and ran after the holy man shouting:</p> + +<p>"Madman! Madman!"—and pelted him with mud and stones.</p> + +<p>Then Fra Giovanni went forth into the country. The city was built on the +slope of a hill, and was surrounded by vineyards and oliveyards. He +descended the hill by a hollow way, and seeing on either side the grapes +of the vines that hung down from the branches of the elms, he stretched +out his arm and blessed the clusters. Likewise he blessed the olive and +the mulberry trees and all the wheat of the lowlands.</p> + +<p>Meantime he was both hungry and thirsty; and he took delight in thirst +and hunger.</p> + +<p>At the end of a cross-road, he saw a wood of laurels; and it was the +habit of the Begging Friars to go and pray in the woods, amongst the +poor animals cruel men hunt and harry. Accordingly Fra Giovanni entered +the wood, and fared + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page158" id="page158">[Pg 158]</a></span> + +on by the side of a brook that ran clear and +singing on its way.</p> + +<p>Presently he saw a flat stone beside the brook, and at the same moment a +young man of a wondrous beauty, clad in a white robe, laid a loaf of +bread on the stone, and disappeared.</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni knelt down and prayed, saying:</p> + +<p>"O God, how good art Thou, to send Thy poor man bread by the hand of one +of Thy Angels; O blessed poverty! O very glorious and most sumptuous +poverty!"</p> + +<p>And he ate the loaf the Angel had brought, and drank the water of the +brook, and was strengthened in body and in soul. And an invisible hand +wrote on the walls of the city: "Woe, woe to the rich!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page159" id="page159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<h3>THE TABLE UNDER THE FIG-TREE.</h3> + +<p><img src="images/f.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="84px" alt="F" title="F" />ollowing the example of St. Francis, his well-beloved Father, Fra +Giovanni used to visit the Hospital of Viterbo to help the lepers, +giving them to drink and washing their sores.</p> + +<p>And if they blasphemed, he used to tell them, "You are the chosen sons +of Jesus Christ." And there were some lepers of a very humble spirit +whom he would gather together in a chamber, and with whom he took +delight as a mother does surrounded by her children.</p> + +<p>But the Hospital walls were very thick, and daylight entered only by +narrow windows high up above the floor. The air was so fetid the lepers +could scarce live in the place at all. And Fra Giovanni noted how one of +them, by name Lucido, who showed an exemplary patience, was slowly dying +of the evil atmosphere. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page160" id="page160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni loved Lucido, and would tell him:</p> + +<p>"My brother, you are Lucido, and no precious stone is purer than your +heart, in the eyes of God."</p> + +<p>And observing how Lucido suffered more sorely than the others from the +poisonous air they breathed in the Lepers' Ward, he said to him one day:</p> + +<p>"Friend Lucido, dear Lamb of the Lord, while the very air they breathe +in this place is pestilence, in the gardens of Santa Maria degli Angeli +we inhale the sweet scent of the laburnums. Come you with me to the +House of the Poor Brethren, and you will find relief."</p> + +<p>So speaking, he took the Leper by the arm, wrapped him in his own cloak +and led him away to Santa Maria degli Angeli.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the gate of the Monastery, he summoned the Doorkeeper with +happy shouts of exultation:</p> + +<p>"Open!" he cried, "open to the friend I am bringing you. His name is +Lucido, and a good name it is, for he is a very pearl of patience."</p> + +<p>The Brother opened the Gate; but the instant he saw in Fra Giovanni's +arms a man whose face, livid and all but expressionless, was covered +over with scales, he knew him for a leper, and rushed off in terror to +warn the Brother Superior. The + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page161" id="page161">[Pg 161]</a></span> + +latter's name was Andrea of Padua, and +he was a man of very holy life. Nevertheless when he learned that Fra +Giovanni was bringing a leper into the House of Santa Maria degli +Angeli, he was very wroth, and coming to him with a face burning with +anger, bade him:</p> + +<p>"Stay there outside, with the man. You are a senseless fool to expose +your brethren thus to contagion."</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni only looked on the ground without venturing any reply. All +the joy was gone from his face; and Lucido, seeing him troubled:</p> + +<p>"Brother!" said he, "I am grieved you are made sad because of me."</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni kissed the leper on the cheek.</p> + +<p>Then he said, turning to the Superior:</p> + +<p>"Will you suffer me, my Father, to stay outside the Gate with this man, +and share my meal with him?"—to which the Father Superior answered:</p> + +<p>"Even do as you please, seeing you set up yourself above the holy rule +of obedience."</p> + +<p>And with these harsh words he went back again into the Monastery.</p> + +<p>Now in front of the Gate was a stone bench under a fig-tree, and on this +bench Fra Giovanni set down his bowl. But while he was supping with the +Leper, the Father Superior had the Gate + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page162" id="page162">[Pg 162]</a></span> + +thrown open, and came and sat +under the fig-tree and said:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Fra Giovanni, for having given you offence. I am come +hither now to share your meal."</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page163" id="page163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<h3>THE TEMPTATION</h3> + +<p><img src="images/t.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="82px" alt="T" title="T" />hen Satan sat him down on the brow of a hill, and gazed down at the +House of the Poor Brethren. He was black and beautiful, like a young +Egyptian. And he thought in his heart:</p> + +<p>"Forasmuch as I am the Enemy of Mankind and the Adversary of God, +therefore will I tempt these Monks, and I will tell them what is kept +hid by Him who is their Friend. Lo! I will afflict these men of Religion +by telling them the truth, and I will darken their spirit, uttering to +them words of verity and reasonableness. I will plunge reflexion like a +sword in their reins; and so soon as they shall know the reality of +things, they will be unhappy. For joy there is none but in illusion, and +peace is only to be found in ignorance. And because I am the Master of +such as study the nature of plants and animals, the virtue of stones, +the secrets of fire, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page164" id="page164">[Pg 164]</a></span> + +the courses of the stars and the influence of the +planets, for this reason men have named me the Prince of Darkness. +Likewise they call me the Wily One, because by me was constructed the +plummet-line whereby Ulpian straightened out the Law. And my kingdom is +of this world. Well then, I will try these Monks, and I will make them +to know their works are evil, and that the tree of their Charity bears +bitter fruit. Yea! I will tempt them without hate and without love."</p> + +<p>Thus said Satan in his heart. Meantime, as the shades of evening were +lengthening along the base of the hills and the cottage chimneys were +smoking for the evening meal, the holy man Giovanni issued from out the +wood where he was wont to pray, and turned into the road leading to +Santa Maria degli Angeli, saying:</p> + +<p>"My house is the house of joy and delight, because it is the house of +poverty."</p> + +<p>And seeing Fra Giovanni wending his way homewards, Satan thought:</p> + +<p>"Lo! here is one of those men I am come to tempt";—and drawing his +black cloak over his head, he advanced along the high road, which was +bordered with terebinths, to meet the holy man.</p> + +<p>Now Satan had made himself like a widow-woman + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page165" id="page165">[Pg 165]</a></span> + + with a veil, and when he +had joined Fra Giovanni, he put on a honeyed voice and asked an alms of +him, saying:</p> + +<p>"Give me an alms for the love of Him who is your friend, and whom I am +not worthy so much as to name."</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni answered:</p> + +<p>"It happens so, I have with me a little silver cup a nobleman of the +countryside gave me, to have it melted down and used for the Altar of +Santa Maria degli Angeli. You may take that, lady; and I will go +to-morrow and ask the nobleman to let me have another of the same weight +for the Blessed Virgin. Thus will his wishes be accomplished, and over +and above, you will have gotten an alms for the love of God."</p> + +<p>Satan took the cup and said:</p> + +<p>"Good brother, suffer a poor widow-woman to kiss your hand. For verily +the hand that gives gifts is soft and fragrant."</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni replied:</p> + +<p>"Lady, be heedful not to kiss my hand. On the contrary, begone with all +speed. For, methinks, you are winsome of face, albeit black as the +Magian King that bore the frankincense and myrrh; and it is not becoming +I should look on you longer, seeing how danger is forever dogging the +lonely man's steps. Wherefore suffer me now to leave + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page166" id="page166">[Pg 166]</a></span> + +you, commending +you to God's care. And forgive me, if I have failed aught in politeness +towards you, lady. For the good St. Francis was used to say: 'Courtesy +shall be the ornament of my sons, as the flowers bedeck the +hill-sides.'"</p> + +<p>But Satan said again:</p> + +<p>"Good Father, inform me at the least of a guest-house, where I may pass +the night honestly."</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni replied:</p> + +<p>"Go, mistress, to the House of St. Damian, where dwell the poor ladies +of Our Lord. She who will welcome you is Clare, and indeed she is a +clear mirror of purity; the same is the Duchess of Poverty."</p> + +<p>And Satan said again:</p> + +<p>"My Father, I am an adulterous woman, and I have lain with many men."</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni said:</p> + +<p>"Lady, if I really deemed you laden with the sins you tell of, I would +crave of you as a high honour to kiss your feet, for I am less worth +than you, and your crimes are little compared with mine. Yet have I +received greater favours of Heaven than have been accorded to you. For +in the days when St. Francis and his twelve disciples were still upon +earth, I lived with Angels of Heaven." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page167" id="page167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p>And Satan returned:</p> + +<p>"My Father, when I asked you an alms for the love of Him who loves you, +I was cherishing in my heart a wicked intent, and I am fain to tell you +what this was. I wander the roads a-begging, in order to collect a sum +of money I destine for a man of Perosa who is my paramour, and who has +promised me, on handling this money, to kill traitorously a certain +knight I hate, because when I offered my body to him, he scorned me. +Well! the total was yet incomplete; but now the weight of your silver +cup has made it up. So the alms you have given me will be the price of +blood. You have sold a just man to death. For the Knight I told you of +is chaste, temperate and pious, and I hate him for this cause. 'Tis you +will have brought about his murder. You have laid a weight of silver in +the scale of crime, to bear it down."</p> + +<p>Hearing these words, the good Fra Giovanni wept, and drawing aside, he +fell on his knees in a thorn-brake, and prayed the Lord, saying:</p> + +<p>"O Lord, make this crime to fall neither on this woman's head nor on +mine nor on that of any of Thy creatures, but let it be put beneath Thy +feet, which were pierced with the nails, and be washed in Thy most +precious blood. Distil on me and on this my sister of the highway a drop +of + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page168" id="page168">[Pg 168]</a></span> + +hyssop, and we shall be purified, and shall overpass the snow in +whiteness."</p> + +<p>But the Enemy fled away, thinking:</p> + +<p>"This man I have not been able to tempt by reason of his utter +simplicity."</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page169" id="page169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<h3>VII</h3> + +<h3>THE SUBTLE DOCTOR</h3> + +<p><img src="images/s.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="84px" alt="S" title="S" />atan returned and sat on the Mountain that looks towards Viterbo, +laughing under its crown of olives. And he said in his heart: "I will +tempt that man yonder." He conceived this purpose in his spirit, because +he had seen Fra Giovanni, girt about with a cord, and a sack over his +shoulder, crossing the meadows below on his way to the city to beg his +bread there according to the rules.</p> + +<p>So Satan took on the appearance of a holy Bishop, and came down into the +plain. A mitre was on his head sparkling with precious stones, that +flashed like actual fire in the sunlight. His cope was covered with +figures embroidered and painted so beautifully no craftsman in all the +world could have wrought their like.</p> + +<p>Amongst the rest he was depicted himself, in silk and gold, under the +guise of a St. George and a St. Sebastian, as also under that of a +Virgin + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page170" id="page170">[Pg 170]</a></span> + + St. Catherine and the Empress Helena. The loveliness of the +faces troubled the mind and saddened the heart. The garment was truly of +a wondrous workmanship, and nothing so rich and rare is to be seen in +the Treasuries of Churches.</p> + +<p>Thus decked in cope and mitre, and majestic as St. Ambrose, the glory of +Milan, Satan pursued his way, leaning on his crozier, over the flowery +plain.</p> + +<p>Presently nearing the holy man, he hailed him and said:</p> + +<p>"Peace be with you!"</p> + +<p>But he said not of what sort this peace was; and Fra Giovanni supposed +it was the peace of the Lord. He thought to himself:</p> + +<p>"This Bishop, who gives me the salutation of peace, was doubtless in his +lifetime a sainted Pontiff and a blessed Martyr unshakable in his +constancy. That is why Jesus Christ has changed the wooden cross to a +golden in the hands of this gallant Confessor of the Faith. To-day he is +powerful in Heaven; and lo! after his holy and happy death, he walks in +these meadows that are painted with flowers and broidered with pearls of +dew."</p> + +<p>Such were the good Giovanni's thoughts, and he was in no wise abashed. +So saluting Satan with a deep reverence, he said: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page171" id="page171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sir! you are exceeding gracious to appear to a poor man such as I. But +indeed these meadows are so lovely, 'tis no wonder if the Saints of +Paradise come to walk here; they are painted with flowers and broidered +with pearls of dew. The Lord did very kindly when he made them."</p> + +<p>And Satan said to him:</p> + +<p>"It is not the meadows, it is your heart I am fain to look at; I have +come down from the Mountain to speak with you. I have, in bygone +Centuries, held many high disputations in the Church. Amid the assembled +Doctors my voice would boom forth like thunder, and my thoughts flash +like lightning. I am very learned, and they name me the Subtle Doctor. I +have disputed with God's Angels. Now I would hold dispute with you."</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni made answer:</p> + +<p>"Nay! but how should the poor little man that I am hold dispute with the +Subtle Doctor? I know nothing, and my simplicity is such I can keep +nothing in my head but those songs in the vulgar tongue where they have +stuck in rhymes to help the memory, as in</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 22em">'Jesus, mirror of my soul,<br /> +Cleanse my heart and make it whole.'</p> + +<p>or in</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 22em">'Holy Mary, Maid of Flowers,<br /> +Lead me to the Heavenly Bowers.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page172" id="page172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p>And Satan answered:</p> + +<p>"Fra Giovanni, the Venetian ladies amuse their leisure and show their +adroitness in fitting a multitude of little pieces of ivory into a box +of cedar-wood, which at the set-off seemed all too small to contain so +many. In the same fashion I will pack ideas into your head that no one +would have dreamed it could ever hold; and I will fill you with a new +wisdom. I will show that, thinking to walk in the right way, you are +straying abroad all the while like a drunken man, and that you are +driving the plough without any heed to draw the furrows straight."</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni humbled himself, saying:</p> + +<p>"It is most true I am a fool, and do nothing but what is wrong."</p> + +<p>Then Satan asked him:</p> + +<p>"What think you of poverty? "—and the holy man replied:</p> + +<p>"I think it is a pearl of price."</p> + +<p>But Satan retorted:</p> + +<p>"You pretend poverty is a great good; yet all the while you are robbing +the poor of a part of this great good, by giving them alms."</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni pondered over this, and said:</p> + +<p>"The alms I give, I give to Our Lord Jesus Christ, whose poverty cannot +be minished, for it is infinite. It gushes from Him as from an +inexhaustible + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page173" id="page173">[Pg 173]</a></span> + +fountain; and its waters flow freely for His favourite +sons. And these shall be poor always, according to the promise of the +Son of God. In giving to the poor, I am giving not to men, but to God, +as the citizens pay tax to the Podestà, and the rate is for the City, +which of the money it so receives supplies the town's needs. Now what I +give is for paving the City of God. It is a vain thing to be poor in +deed, if we be not poor in spirit. The gown of frieze, the cord, the +sandals, the wallet and the wooden bowl are only signs and symbols. The +Poverty I love is spiritual, and I address her as <i>Lady</i>, because she is +an idea, and all beauty resides in this same idea."</p> + +<p>Satan smiled, and replied:</p> + +<p>"Your maxims, Fra Giovanni, are the maxims of a wise man of Greece, +Diogenes by name, who taught at their Universities in the times when +Alexander of Macedon was waging his wars."</p> + +<p>And Satan said again:</p> + +<p>"Is it true you despise the goods of this world?"</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni replied:</p> + +<p>"I do despise them."</p> + +<p>And Satan said to him:</p> + +<p>"Look you! in scorning these, you are scorning at the same time the +hard-working men who produce them, and so doing, fulfil the order given +to + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page174" id="page174">[Pg 174]</a></span> + +your first father, Adam, when he was commanded, 'In the sweat of thy +face, thou shalt eat bread.' Seeing work is good, the fruit of this work +is good too. Yet you work not, neither have any care for the work of +others. But you receive and give alms, in contempt of the law laid on +Adam and on his seed through the ages."</p> + +<p>"Alas!" sighed Brother Giovanni, "I am laden with crimes, and at once +the most wicked and the most foolish man in all the world. Wherefore +never heed me, but read in the Book. Our Lord said, 'Consider the lilies +of the field; they toil not, neither do they spin.' Again he said, 'Mary +hath chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.'"</p> + +<p>Then Satan lifted up his hand, with the gesture of one who disputes and +prepares to count off his arguments on the fingers. And he said:</p> + +<p>"Giovanni, Giovanni! what was written in one sense, you read in another; +you are less like a Doctor at his desk than an ass at the manger. So +must I correct you, as a master corrects his scholar. It is written the +lilies of the field have no need to spin—because they are beautiful, +and beauty is a virtue. Again it is written how Mary is not to do the +household tasks, because she is doing lovingly to Him who has come to +see her. But you, who are not beautiful nor yet instructed, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page175" id="page175">[Pg 175]</a></span> + + like Mary, +in the things of love, you drag out a contemptible existence wandering +the highways."</p> + +<p>Giovanni made reply:</p> + +<p>"Sir! just as a Painter will depict on a narrow panel of wood an entire +city with its houses and towers and walls, so you have painted in a few +words my soul and my similitude with a wondrous exactness. And I am +altogether what you describe. But if I followed perfectly the rule +etablished by St. Francis, that Angel of God, and if I practised +spiritual poverty to the full, I should be the lily of the fields and I +should have the good part of Mary."</p> + +<p>But Satan interrupted him, and cried:</p> + +<p>"You profess to love the poor, yet you prefer the rich man and his +riches, and adore Him who possesses treasures to give away."</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni answered:</p> + +<p>"He I love possesses not the good things of the body, but those of the +spirit."</p> + +<p>And Satan retorted:</p> + +<p>"All good things are of the flesh, and are tasted of through the flesh. +This Epicurus taught, and Horace the Satirist said the same in his +Verses."</p> + +<p>At these words the holy man only sighed and said:</p> + +<p>"Sir! I cannot tell what you mean."</p> + +<p>Satan shrugged his shoulders and said: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page176" id="page176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My words are exact and literal, yet the man cannot tell what I mean. I +have disputed with Augustine and Jerome, with Gregory and him of the +Golden Mouth, St. Chrysostom. And they comprehended me still less. +Miserable men walk groping in the dark, and Error lifts over their head +her monstrous canopy. Simple and sage alike are the plaything of eternal +falsehood."</p> + +<p>And Satan said again to the holy man Giovanni:</p> + +<p>"Have you won happiness? If you have happiness, I shall not prevail +against you. A man's thoughts are only stirred by sorrow, and their +meditations by grief. Then, tortured by fears and desires, he turns +anxiously in his bed and rends his pillow with lies. What use to tempt +this man? He is happy."</p> + +<p>But Fra Giovanni sighed:</p> + +<p>"Sir! I am less happy since listening to you. Your words trouble my +mind."</p> + +<p>On hearing this, Satan cast away his pastoral staff, his mitre and his +cope; and stood there naked and unashamed. He was black and more +beautiful than the loveliest of the Angels.</p> + +<p>He smiled gently, and said to the holy man:</p> + +<p>"Friend, be comforted. I am the Evil Spirit."</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page177" id="page177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<h3>VIII</h3> + +<h3>THE BURNING COAL</h3> + +<p><img src="images/n.jpg" align="left" height="100px" width="91px" alt="N" title="N" />ow Brother Giovanni was simple of heart and spirit, and his tongue was +tied; he knew not the secret of speaking to his fellow-men.</p> + +<p>But one day when he was praying, as his habit was, at the foot of an +ancient holm-oak, an Angel of the Lord appeared to him, and saluting +him, said:</p> + +<p>"I salute you, because it is I who visit the simple-minded, and announce +the mysteries to virgins."</p> + +<p>And the Angel held in his hand a burning coal. This he laid on the holy +man's lips, and spoke again, and said:</p> + +<p>"By virtue of this fire shall your lips remain pure, and they shall glow +with eloquence. I have burned them, and they shall be burned. Your +tongue shall be loosed, and you shall speak to your fellows. For men +must hear the word of life, and learn how they shall not be saved but + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page178" id="page178">[Pg 178]</a></span> + +by innocency of heart. For this cause the Lord has unloosed the tongue +of the simple and innocent."</p> + +<p>Then the Angel went back again to Heaven. And the holy man was seized +with terror, and he prayed, saying:</p> + +<p>"O God, my heart is so sore troubled I cannot find on my lips the sweet +savour of the fire Thy Angel hath touched them with.</p> + +<p>"Thou wouldst chasten me, O Lord, seeing Thou dost send me to speak to +the folk, who will not hearken to my words. I shall be hateful to all +men, and Thy priests themselves will declare, 'He is a blasphemer!'</p> + +<p>"For Thy reason is contrary to the reason of men. Nevertheless Thy will +be done."</p> + +<p>Then he rose up from his knees, and set out on his way citywards.</p> + +<hr width="33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page179" id="page179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<h3>IX</h3> + +<h3>THE HOUSE OF INNOCENCE</h3> + +<p><img src="images/o.jpg" align="left" height="100px" width="92px" alt="O" title="O" />n that day Fra Giovanni had left the Monastery at early dawn, the hour +when the birds awake and begin singing. He was on his way to the city +and he thought within himself: "I am going to the city to beg my bread +and to give bread to other beggars; I shall give away what I receive, +and take back what I have given. For it is good to ask and to receive +for the love of God. And he who receives is the brother of him who +gives. And we should not consider too curiously which of the twain +brothers we are, because truly the gift is naught, but everything is in +the gracious giving.</p> + +<p>"He that receives, if he have gracious charity, is the equal of him that +gives. But he who sells is the enemy of him who buys, and the seller +constrains the buyer to be his foe. Herein lies the root of the curse +that poisons cities, as the venom of the serpent is in his tail. And it +must needs be + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page180" id="page180">[Pg 180]</a></span> + +a Lady set her foot on the serpent's tail, and that Lady +is Poverty. Already hath she visited King Louis of France in his Tower; +but never yet entered among the Florentines, because she is chaste and +will not put foot in a place of ill repute. Now the money-changer's shop +is an ill place, for it is there Bankers and Changers commit the most +heinous of sins. Harlots sin in the brothels; but their sin is not so +great as is that of the Bankers, and whosoever grows rich by banking and +money-dealing.</p> + +<p>"Verily I say unto you, Bankers and Money-changers shall not enter into +the Kingdom of Heaven, nor yet bakers, nor dealers in drugs, nor such as +practise the trade of wool, which is the boast of the City of the Lily. +Forasmuch as they give a price to gold, and make a profit out of +exchange, they are setting up idols in the face of men. And when they +declare 'Gold has a value,' they tell a lie. For Gold is more vile than +the dry leaves that flutter and rustle in the Autumn wind under the +terebinths. There is nothing precious save the work of men's hands, when +God gives it His countenance."</p> + +<p>And lo! as he was meditating in this wise, Fra Giovanni saw that the +Mountain side was torn open, and that men were dragging great stones +from its flank. And one of the quarrymen was + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page181" id="page181">[Pg 181]</a></span> + +lying by the wayside, with +a rag of coarse cloth for all covering; and his body was disfigured by +bitter marks of the biting cold and scorching heat. The bones of his +shoulders and chest showed all but bare beneath the meagre flesh; and +Despair looked out grim and gaunt from the black cavern of his eyes.</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni approached him, saying:</p> + +<p>"Peace be with you!"</p> + +<p>But the quarryman made no answer, and did not so much as turn his head. +So Fra Giovanni, thinking he had not heard, repeated:</p> + +<p>"Peace be with you!"—and then the same words again for the third time.</p> + +<p>At last the quarryman looked up at him sullenly, and growled:</p> + +<p>"I shall have no peace till I am dead. Begone, cursed black crow! you +wish me peace; that shows you are a glozing cheat! Go to, and caw to +simpler fools than I! I know very well the quarryman's lot is an utterly +miserable one, and there is no comfort for his wretchedness. I hale out +stones from dawn to dark, and for price of my toil, all I get is a scrap +of black bread. Then when my arms are no longer as strong as the stones +of the mountain, and my body is all worn out, I shall perish of hunger."</p> + +<p>"Brother!" said the holy man Giovanni; "it is + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page182" id="page182">[Pg 182]</a></span> + +not just or right you +should hale out so much stone, and win so little bread."</p> + +<p>Then the quarryman rose to his feet and pointing,</p> + +<p>"Master Monk," said he, "what see you up yonder on the hill?"</p> + +<p>"Brother, I see the walls of the City."</p> + +<p>"And above them?"</p> + +<p>"Above them I see the roofs of the houses, which crown the ramparts."</p> + +<p>"And higher still?"</p> + +<p>"The tops of the pines, the domes of the Churches and the Belltowers."</p> + +<p>"And higher still?"</p> + +<p>"I see a Tower overtopping all the rest, and crowned with battlements. +It is the Tower of the Podestà."</p> + +<p>"Monk, what see you above the battlements of that Tower?"</p> + +<p>"I see nothing, brother, above the battlements save the sky."</p> + +<p>"But I," cried the quarryman, "I see upon that Tower a hideous giant +brandishing a club, and on the club is inscribed: OPPRESSION. Yea! +Oppression is lifted up above the citizens' heads on the Great Tower of +the Magistrates and the City's Laws."</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni answered: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page183" id="page183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What one man sees, another cannot see, and it may be the horrid shape +you describe is set on the Tower of the Podestà yonder, in the city of +Viterbo. But is there no remedy for the ills you endure, my brother? The +good St. Francis left behind him on this earth so full a fountain of +consolation that all men may draw refreshment therefrom."</p> + +<p>Then the quarryman spoke after this fashion:</p> + +<p>"Men have said, 'This mountain is ours.' And these men are my masters, +and it is for them I hew stone. And they enjoy the fruit of my labour."</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni sighed:</p> + +<p>"Surely men must be mad to believe they own a mountain."</p> + +<p>But the quarryman replied:</p> + +<p>"Nay! they are not mad; and the Laws of the City guarantee them their +ownership. The citizens pay them for the stones I have hewn, which are +marbles of great price."</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni said:</p> + +<p>"We must change the laws of the City and the habits of the citizens. St. +Francis, that Angel of God, has given the example and shown the way. +When he resolved, by God's command, to rebuild the ruined Church of St. +Damian, he did not set out to find the master of the quarry. He did not + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page184" id="page184">[Pg 184]</a></span> + +say, 'Go buy me the finest marbles, and I will give you gold in +exchange.' For the holy man, who was called the son of Bernardone and +who was the true son of God, knew this, that the man who sells is the +enemy of the man who buys, and that the art of Trafficking is more +mischievous, if possible, than the art of War. Wherefore he did not +apply to the master-masons or any of them that give marble and timber +and lead in exchange for money. But he went forth into the Mountain and +gathered his load of wood and stones, and bore it himself to the spot +hallowed to the memory of the Blessed Damian. With his own hands, by +help of the mason's line, he laid the stones to form the walls; and he +made the cement to bind together the stones one to another. Finished, it +was a lowly circuit of roughly fashioned stones, the work of a weakling. +But who considers it with the eyes of the soul recognizes therein an +Angel's thought. For the mortar of this wall was not worked with the +blood of the unfortunate; this house of St. Damian was not raised with +the thirty pieces of silver paid for the blood of that Just Man, which, +rejected by Iscariot, go travelling the world ever since, passing from +hand to hand, to buy up all the injustice and all the cruelty of the +earth.</p> + +<p>"For, alone of all others, this house is founded on Innocence, +stablished on Love, based on Charity, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page185" id="page185">[Pg 185]</a></span> + +and alone of all others it is the +House of God.</p> + +<p>"And I tell you verily, quarryman and brother, the poor man of Jesus +Christ, in doing these things, gave to the world an example of Justice, +and one day his foolishness shall shine forth as wisdom. For all things +in this earth are God's and we are His children; and it is meet the +children should share alike in His inheritance. That is, each should get +what he has need of. And seeing grown men do not ask for broth, nor +babes for wine, the share of each shall not be the same, but each shall +have the heritage that is fitting for him.</p> + +<p>"And labour shall be a joyful thing, when it is no longer paid. 'Tis +gold only, the cursed gold, that makes the sharing uneven. When each man +shall go severally to the Mountain for his stone, and carry his load to +the city on his own back, the stone shall weigh light and it shall be +the stone of cheerfulness. And we will build the house of joy and +gladness, and the new city shall rise from its foundations. And there +shall be neither rich nor poor, but all men will call themselves poor +men, because they will be glad to bear a name that brings them honour."</p> + +<p>So spoke the gentle Fra Giovanni, and the unhappy quarryman thought to +himself:</p> + +<p>"This man clad in a shroud and girt with a + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page186" id="page186">[Pg 186]</a></span> + +cord has proclaimed new +tidings. I shall not see the end of my miseries, for I am going to die +of hunger and exhaustion. But I shall die happy, for my eyes, before +they close, will have beheld the dawn of the day of Justice."</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page187" id="page187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> + +<h3>X</h3> + +<h3>THE FRIENDS OF ORDER</h3> + +<p><img src="images/n1.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="84px" alt="N" title="N" />ow in those days there was in the very illustrious city of Viterbo a +Confraternity of sixty old men. These counted among their number many of +the chief men of the place; and their objects were the accumulation of +honours and riches, and the pursuit of virtue. The Brotherhood included +a Gonfalonier of the Republic, Doctors of either faculty, Judges, +Merchants, Money-changers of conspicuous piety, and one or two old +Soldiers of Fortune grown too ancient and feeble for the Wars.</p> + +<p>Seeing they were banded together for the purpose of stirring up their +fellow-citizens to goodness and good order, and to bear mutual witness +to the practice of these virtues, they gave themselves the title of <i>The +Friends of Order.</i> This name was inscribed on the banner of the +Confraternity, and they were all of one mind to persuade the poor to +follow goodness and good order, to the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page188" id="page188">[Pg 188]</a></span> + +end no changes might be made in +the Constitution.</p> + +<p>Their habit was to meet on the last day of each month, in the Palace of +the Podestà, to make inquiry of each other what of good had been done in +the city during the month. And to such of the poorer citizens as had +done well and orderly, they used to present pieces of money.</p> + +<p>Now on a certain day the Friends of Order were holding meeting. At one +end of the Hall was a raised platform covered with velvet, and over the +platform a magnificent canopy of state, held up by four figures carved +and painted. These figures represented Justice, Temperance, Strength and +Chastity; and beneath the canopy sat the Officers of the Brotherhood. +The President, who was entitled the Dean, took his place in the middle +on a golden chair, which in richness was scarce inferior to the throne +that once upon a time the disciple of St. Francis saw prepared in Heaven +for the poor man of the Lord. This seat of state had been presented to +the Dean of the Brotherhood to the end that in him should be honoured +all the goodness done in the city.</p> + +<p>And as soon as the Members of the Confraternity were ranged in the +fitting order, the Dean got up to speak. He congratulated any +serving-maids that served their masters without receiving wages, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page189" id="page189">[Pg 189]</a></span> + + and +spoke highly of the old men who, having no bread to eat, did not ask for +any.</p> + +<p>And he said:</p> + +<p>"These have done well, and we shall reward them. For it behoves that +goodness be rewarded, and it is our bounden duty to pay the price of it, +being as we are the first and foremost citizens of the city."</p> + +<p>And when he finished speaking, the crowd of the general folk that stood +under the platform clapped their hands.</p> + +<p>But no sooner had they done applauding than Fra Giovanni lifted up his +voice from the midst of the miserable, poverty-stricken band, and asked +loudly:</p> + +<p>"What is goodness?"</p> + +<p>At this great clamour arose in the assembly, and the Dean shouted:</p> + +<p>"Who was it spoke?"</p> + +<p>And a red-haired man who was standing among the people, answered:</p> + +<p>"It was a Monk, by name Giovanni, who is the disgrace of his Cloister. +He goes naked through the streets, carrying his clothes on his head, and +gives himself up to all sorts of extravagances."</p> + +<p>Next a Baker spoke up and said:</p> + +<p>"He is a madman or a miscreant! He begs his bread at the Bakers' doors."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page190" id="page190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then a number of those present, shouting noisily and dragging Fra +Giovanni by the gown, tried to hustle him out of the hall, while others +more angry still, began throwing stools and breaking them over the holy +man's head. But the Dean rose from his seat under the canopy, and said:</p> + +<p>"Leave the man in peace, so that he may hear me and be confounded. He +asks what goodness is, because goodness is not in him and he is devoid +of virtue. I answer him, 'The knowledge of goodness resides in virtuous +men; and good citizens carry within them a proper respect for the laws. +They approve what has been done in the city to insure to each man +enjoyment of the riches he may have acquired. They support the +established order of things, and are ready to fly to arms to defend the +same. For the duty of the poor is to defend the good things belonging to +the rich; and this is how the union betwixt citizens is maintained. This +is goodness and good order. Again, the rich man has his serving-man +bring out a basket full of bread, which he distributes to the poor; and +this is goodness again.' These are the lessons this rough, ignorant +fellow required to be taught."</p> + +<p>Having so said, the Dean sat down, and the crowd of poor folks raised a +murmur of approval. But Fra Giovanni, stepping on one of the stools +that + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page191" id="page191">[Pg 191]</a></span> + +had been thrown at his head with contumely and insult, addressed +them all and said:</p> + +<p>"Hear the words of comfort! Goodness resides not in men, for men know +not of themselves what is good. They are ignorant of their own nature +and destiny. What seems good, may be evil all the while; and what is +deemed useful, harmful. No man can choose the things meet for him, +because he knows not his own needs, but is like the little child sitting +in the meadows, that sucks for wholesome milk the juice of the deadly +nightshade. The babe does not know that the nightshade is a poison; but +its mother knows. This is why goodness is to do the will of God.</p> + +<p>"It is false to say, 'Tis I teach goodness, and goodness is to obey the +city laws.' For the Laws are not of God; they are of man, and share in +man's craft and cunning and imperfection. They are like the rules +children make in the Square of Viterbo, when they are playing ball. +Goodness is not in customs nor in laws; it is in God and in the +accomplishment of God's will upon earth, and it is neither by law-makers +nor magistrates that God's will is accomplished upon the earth.</p> + +<p>"For the great men of this world do their own will, and their will is +contrary to God's. But they who have stripped off pride and know there +is no goodness in them, these men receive noble gifts, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page192" id="page192">[Pg 192]</a></span> + +and God Himself +distils His sweetness within them like honey in the hollow of the oaks.</p> + +<p>"And we must be the oak-tree full of honey and dew. Humble, ignorant and +simple folks, these have knowledge of God; and by them shall God's +kingdom be stablished on earth. Salvation is not in the strength of laws +nor in the multitude of soldiers; it is in poverty and humbleness of +spirit.</p> + +<p>"Say not, 'Goodness is in me, and I teach goodness.' Rather say, +'Goodness is in God on high.' Over long have men hardened their hearts +in their own wisdom. Over long have they set up the Lion and the +She-Wolf above the Gates of their Cities. Their wisdom and their +prudence have brought about slavery and wars and the shedding of much +innocent blood. Wherefore you should put your guidance in God's hand, as +the blind man trusts himself to his dog's guidance. Fear not to shut the +eyes of your spirit and have done with Reason, for has not Reason made +you unhappy and wicked? By Reason have you grown like the man who, +having guessed the secrets of the Beast crouching in the cavern, waxed +proud of his knowingness, and deeming himself wiser than his fellows, +slew his father and wedded his mother.</p> + +<p>"God was not with him; but He is with the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page193" id="page193">[Pg 193]</a></span> + +humble and simple-minded. +Learn not to will and He will put His will in you. Seek not to guess the +riddles of the Beast. Be ignorant, and you shall not fear to go astray. +'Tis only wise men that are deceived."</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni having thus spoken, the Dean got up and said:</p> + +<p>"The miscreant has insulted me, and I willingly forgive him the insult. +But he has spoken against the laws of Viterbo, and it is meet he should +be punished."</p> + +<p>So Fra Giovanni was led before the Judges, who had him loaded with +chains and cast him into the city gaol.</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page194" id="page194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<h3>XI</h3> + +<h3>THE REVOLT OF GENTLENESS</h3> + +<p><img src="images/t.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="82px" alt="T" title="T" />he holy man Giovanni was chained to a massive pillar in the middle of +the dungeon over which the river flowed.</p> + +<p>Two other prisoners were plunged along with him in the thick and fetid +darkness. Both these had realized and proclaimed the injustice of the +Laws. One was for overthrowing the Republic by force. He had been guilty +of startling assassinations, and his hope was to purify the city with +fire and sword. The other trusted to be able to change men's hearts, and +had delivered very persuasive discourses. Inventor of wise laws, he +counted on the charms of his genius and the innocency of his life to +induce his fellow-citizens to submit to them. But both had met with the +same doom.</p> + +<p>When they learned how the holy man was chained alongside of them for +having spoken against the laws of the city, they congratulated him. And + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page195" id="page195">[Pg 195]</a></span> + +the one who had invented wise laws, said to him:</p> + +<p>"If ever, brother, we are restored to liberty, seeing you think as I do, +you shall help me to persuade the citizens that they ought to set up +above them the empire of just laws."</p> + +<p>But the holy man Giovanni answered him:</p> + +<p>"What matter for Justice being in the Laws, if it is not in men's +hearts? And if men's hearts are unjust, what gain shall it be that +Equity reign in the Courts of Law?</p> + +<p>"Say not, 'We will stablish just laws, and we will render to every man +what is his due.' For no one is just, and we know not what is meet for +men. We are no less ignorant what is good for them and what is evil. And +whensoever the Princes of the People and the Chiefs of the Commonwealth +have loved Justice, they have caused the slaying of many folk.</p> + +<p>"Give not the compass and the level to the false measurer; for with true +instruments, he will make untrue apportionments. And he will say: 'See, +I carry on me the level, the rule and the square, and I am a good +measurer.' So long as men shall be covetous and cruel, will they make +the most merciful laws cruel, and will rob their brethren with words of +love on their lips. This is why it is vain to reveal to them the words +of love and the laws of gentleness. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page196" id="page196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Set not up laws against laws, nor raise tables of marble and tables of +brass before men's eyes. For whatever is written on the tables of the +Law, is written in letters of blood."</p> + +<p>So spoke the holy man. And the other prisoner,—he who had committed +startling murders, and contrived the ruin that was to save the city, +approved his words and said:</p> + +<p>"Comrade, you have spoken well. Know you, I will never set up law +against law, right rule against crooked rule; my wish is to destroy the +law by violence and compel the citizens to live thenceforth in happy +freedom. And know further that I have slain both judges and soldiers, +and have committed many crimes for the public good."</p> + +<p>Hearing these words, the man of the Lord rose, stretched out his +manacled arms in the heavy darkness and cried:</p> + +<p>"Ill betide the violent! for violence ever begets violence. Whosoever +acts like you is sowing the earth with hate and fury, and his children +shall tear their feet with the wayside briars, and serpents shall bite +their heel.</p> + +<p>"Ill betide you! for you have shed the blood of the unjust judge and the +brutal soldier, and lo! you are become like the soldier and the judge +yourself. Like them you bear on your hands the indelible stain. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page197" id="page197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A fool the man who says, 'We will do evildoing in our turn, and our +heart shall be comforted. We will be unjust, and it shall be the +beginning of justice.' Evildoing is in evil desiring. Desire nothing, +and evildoing will be done away. Injustice hurts only the unjust; I +shall suffer no harm of it, if I am just. Oppression is a sword whose +hilt wounds the hand of him who holds it; but its point cannot pierce +the heart of the man who is simple-minded and good and kind.</p> + +<p>"For such an one nothing is dangerous, if he fear nothing. To endure all +things, is to endure nothing. Let us be good and kindly, and the whole +round world shall be the same. For the world will be an instrument for +your goodness, and your persecutors will work to make you better and +more beautiful.</p> + +<p>"You love life, and this is an affection which rules the heart of every +man. Then love suffering; for to live is to suffer. Never envy your +cruel masters; rather have compassion for the commanders of armies. Pity +the Publicans and Judges; the proudest of them have known the stings of +grief and the terrors of death. Happier you, because your consciences +are void of offence; for you, let grief lose its bitterness and death +its terrors.</p> + +<p>"Be ye God's children, and tell yourselves, 'All + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page198" id="page198">[Pg 198]</a></span> + +is well in Him.' +Beware of pursuing even the public good with overmuch violence and +avidity, for fear something of cruelty mar your integrity. Rather should +your desire of universal loving-kindness have the unction of a prayer +and the soft fervour of a hope.</p> + +<p>"Fair the table, whereat every man shall get his just portion, and the +guests shall each one wash the other's feet. But say not, 'I will set up +this table by force in the streets of the city and in the public +squares.' For it is not knife in hand you must call together your +brethren to the feast of Justice and Gentleness. Of its own accord must +the board be spread in the Campo di Marte, by virtue of graciousness and +good will.</p> + +<p>"This shall be a miracle; and be sure, miracles are not wrought save by +faith and love. If you disobey your masters, let it be by love. Neither +fetter nor kill them, but tell them rather, 'I will never slay my +brothers, nor throw them into chains.' Endure, suffer, submit, will what +God wills, and your will shall be done on earth as it is in heaven. What +seems evil is evil, and what seems good is good. Striving and discontent +is the true curse of mankind. Let us then be peaceful and content, and +never strike the wicked, for fear we make ourselves like them.</p> + +<p>"If we have not the good fortune to be poor in + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page199" id="page199">[Pg 199]</a></span> + +very deed, let us not +make ourselves rich men in spirit, and heartbound to the things of this +world that make folk unjust and unhappy. Let us suffer persecution with +gentleness, and be those chosen vessels that turn into balm the gall +poured into them."</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page200" id="page200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> + +<h3>XII</h3> + +<h3>WORDS OF LOVE</h3> + +<p><img src="images/t1.jpg" align="left" height="100px" width="89px" alt="T" title="T" />hen the Judges had the holy man, Giovanni, brought before them chained +to him who had thrown Greek fire in the Palace of the Priors. And they +said to the holy man:</p> + +<p>"You are alongside of the guilty because you are not on our side. For +whosoever is not with good citizens is with evil."</p> + +<p>And the holy man answered them:</p> + +<p>"There are neither good nor evil among men; but all alike are unhappy. +And they who suffer neither hunger nor contumely, they are afflicted by +riches and power. It is not given to any man born of woman to escape the +miseries of life, and the son of woman is like a fever patient, who +turns and turns in his bed, and can find no rest, because he will not +lie down on the Cross of Jesus, his head among the thorns, and take his +joy in suffering. Yet is it in suffering that joy is found; and they who +love know this. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page201" id="page201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I companion with Love, but that man with Hate; and for this cause we +can never come together. And I say to him, 'Brother, you have done ill, +and your crime is great and grievous,' And I speak so, because Charity +and Love urge me. But you, you condemn yonder guilty man in the name of +Justice. But invoking Justice, you take a vain oath, for there is no +such thing as Justice among men.</p> + +<p>"We are all of us guilty. And when you say, 'The life of peoples is in +our hand,' you are lying, and you are the coffin which declares, 'I am +the cradle.' The life of peoples is in the harvests of the fields, which +grow yellow beneath the Lord's sight. It is in the vines hanging from +the elms, and in the smiles and tears wherein heaven bathes the fruits +of the trees in the orchard closes. It is not in the laws, which are +made by the rich and powerful for the maintenance of their own power and +riches.</p> + +<p>"Ye forget how ye are all born poor and naked. And He who came to lie in +the manger at Bethlehem, has come without profiting you. And He must +needs be born again and be crucified a second time for your salvation.</p> + +<p>"The man of violence has laid hold of the arms you forged; and is well +compared to the warriors you hold in honour because they have destroyed + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page202" id="page202">[Pg 202]</a></span> + +cities. What is defended by force shall be attacked by force. And if you +have wit to read the book you have written, you will find what I say +therein. For you have put in your book that the right of nations is the +right of war; and you have glorified violence, paying honours to +conquering generals and raising statues in your public squares to them +and their war-horses.</p> + +<p>"And you have laid it down, 'There is violence that is right, and +violence that is wrong. And this is the right of nations and this is the +law.' But so soon as the men shall have put you outside the law, they +will be the law, even as you became the law, when you had overthrown the +tyrant that was the law before you.</p> + +<p>"Now, be assured, it is very certain that there is no true right save in +the renouncing of right. There is no hallowed law save in love. There is +no Justice save in Charity. 'Tis not by force we should resist force, +for strife only hardens the fighters' hearts and the issue of battles is +aye dubious. But if we oppose gentleness to violence, this latter +getting no hold upon its adversary, falls dead of itself.</p> + +<p>"It is related by learned men in the <i>Bestiaries</i> how the unicorn, which +bears on its forehead a flaming sword, transfixes the hunter in his +coat-of-mail, but falls to its knees before a pure virgin. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page203" id="page203">[Pg 203]</a></span> + +Be ye +gentle-hearted, therefore, and simple-souled; keep your heart pure, and +ye shall fear nothing.</p> + +<p>"Put not your trust in the sword of the Condottieri, for did not the +shepherd boy's smooth stone pierce Goliath's brow? But be ye strong in +love, and love them that hate you. Hate, when unreturned, is robbed of +half its sting; and what is left is weak, widowed, and like to die. +Strip yourselves, that other men strip you not. Love your enemies, that +they become your friends. Forgive, that ye may be forgiven. Say not, +'Gentleness is a bane to the shepherds of the peoples.' For how can you +know, seeing these have never tried? They profess by harshness to have +lessened the evil of the world. Yet is evil still rampant among men, and +there is never a sign of its growing less.</p> + +<p>"I said to some, 'Be not oppressors,' and to others, 'Rise not in revolt +against oppression,'—and neither hearkened to me. They cast the stone +of derision at me. Because I was on all men's side, each reproached me +and said, 'You are not on my side.'</p> + +<p>"I said, 'I am the friend of the wretched.' But you never thought I was +your friend, because in your pride, you know not that you are wretched. +Nevertheless the wretchedness of the master is more cruel than that of +the slave. My tender pity for your woes only made you think I was + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page204" id="page204">[Pg 204]</a></span> + +mocking you; and the oppressed deemed me to be of the party of the +oppressors. 'He has no bowels,' they said. Nay! but I am on the side of +love and not of hate. This is why you scorn me; and because I preach +peace on earth, you hold me for a fool. You think my words wander all +ways, like the steps of a drunken man. And it is very true I walk your +fields like those harpers who on the eve of battles, come to play before +the tents. And the soldiers say, as they listen: ''Tis some poor +simpletons come playing the tunes we heard long ago in our mountains.' I +am this harper that roams between the hosts in battle array of hostile +armies. When I think whither human wisdom leads, I am glad to be a +madman and a simpleton; and I thank God that He has given me the harp to +handle and not the sword."</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page205" id="page205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> + +<h3>XIII</h3> + +<h3>THE TRUTH</h3> + +<p><img src="images/t.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="82px" alt="T" title="T" />he holy man Giovanni was very straitly confined in gaol, where he was +fastened by chains to rings built into the wall. But his soul was +unfettered, and no tortures had been able to shake his firmness. He +promised himself he would never betray the faith that was in him, and +was ready to be witness and martyr of the Truth, to the end he might die +in God. And he said to himself, "Truth shall go along with me to the +scaffold. She shall look at me and weep and say, 'My tears flow, seeing +it is for my sake this man is going to his death.'"</p> + +<p>And as the holy man was thus holding colloquy of his own thoughts in the +solitude of his dungeon, a knight entered into the prison, without ever +the doors having been opened. He was clad in a red mantle, and carried +in his hand a lighted lantern.</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni accosted him and said: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page206" id="page206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is your name, subtle sir, that slips through prison walls?"</p> + +<p>And the knight made answer:</p> + +<p>"Brother, what use to tell you the names folk give me? For you I will +bear the one you shall call me by. Know this, I am come to you full of +helpfulness and goodwill, and being informed you dearly love the Truth, +I bring you a word touching this same Truth that you have taken for lady +and companion."</p> + +<p>And Fra Giovanni began to tender thanks to his visitor. But the knight +stopped him in the midst, saying:</p> + +<p>"I warn you, this word of mine will seem to you at the first empty and +of no account, for it is with it as with a tiny key, that the heedless +man throws away without using.</p> + +<p>"But the careful householder tries it in lock after lock, till he finds +at last it opens a chest full of gold and precious stones.</p> + +<p>"Wherefore I say to you, Fra Giovanni, seeing you have chosen +peradventure to take Truth for your Lady and darling, it behoves you +greatly to know concerning her all that may be known. Well then, know +that she is <i>white</i>. And from her appearance, which I will describe you, +you shall gather her nature, which will be very useful to you in making +up to her and kissing her fair body with + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page207" id="page207">[Pg 207]</a></span> + +all sorts of pretty caresses, +after the fashion of a lover fondling his mistress. Therefore take it as +proven, brother mine, that she is <i>white</i>."</p> + +<p>After hearkening to these words, the holy man Giovanni answered:</p> + +<p>"Subtle Sir, the meaning of your discourse is not so hard to guess as +you would seem to fear. And my wit, albeit naturally thick and dull, was +instantly transfixed by the fine point of your allegory. You say that +Truth is white to manifest the perfect purity that is in her, and show +clearly she is a lady of immaculate virtue. And truly I picture her to +myself such as you describe, overpassing in whiteness the lilies of the +garden and the snow that in winter clothes the summits of Monte +Alverno."</p> + +<p>But the visitor shook his head and said:</p> + +<p>"Nay! Fra Giovanni, that is not the meaning of my words, and you have in +no wise broken the bone to extract the marrow. I instructed you that +Truth is white, <i>not</i> that she is pure; and it shows little discernment +to think that she is pure."</p> + +<p>Grieved at what he now heard, the holy man Giovanni replied:</p> + +<p>"Even as the Moon, when the Earth hides the Sun's light from her, is +darkened by the thick shadow of this World, where was wrought the crime +of our mother Eve, so, most Subtle Sir, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page208" id="page208">[Pg 208]</a></span> + +you have obscured a plain +saying under baffling phrases. Thus we have you astray in the dark; for +indeed Truth is pure, coming from God, the fountain of all purity."</p> + +<p>But the Opponent retorted:</p> + +<p>"Fra Giovanni, your logic is at fault, or you would know that purity is +an inconceivable quality. This is what the shepherds of Arcady did, so +they say, who named pure gods the gods they knew not the nature of."</p> + +<p>Then the good Fra Giovanni sighed and said:</p> + +<p>"Sir! your words are dark and wrapped in sadness. At times in my sleep +angels have visited me. Their words I could not comprehend; but the +mystery of <i>their</i> thought was full of joy."</p> + +<p>Hereupon the subtle visitor resumed:</p> + +<p>"Come, Fra Giovanni, let us argue it out both of us according to the +rules of syllogism."</p> + +<p>But the holy man answered:</p> + +<p>"Nay! I cannot argue with you; I have neither wish nor wit for the +task."</p> + +<p>"Well then!" returned the Subtle Sophist, "I must needs find another +Opponent."</p> + +<p>And in a moment, lifting the index finger of his left hand, he made with +his right out of a corner of his gown a red cap for this finger. Then +holding it up before his nose,</p> + +<p>"Look!" he said, "look at this finger. He's + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page209" id="page209">[Pg 209]</a></span> + +a learned Doctor now, and I +am going to hold a learned argument with him. He's a Platonist, maybe +Plato himself.</p> + +<p>"Messer Plato, what is purity? I wait your answer, Messer Plato. Oh! you +say. Consciousness is pure. Consciousness only when it is devoid of +everything which may be seen, heard, handled, in one word proved by the +senses. You grant me further,—yes! you nod your cap, that Truth will be +pure Truth under the same conditions, that is to say provided only you +make her dumb, blind, deaf, legless, paralytic, crippled of all her +limbs. And I am quite ready to allow that in this state she will escape +the delusions that make mock of mankind, and will have no temptations to +play the runagate. You are a scoffer, and you have made much mock at the +world. Doff your cap."</p> + +<p>And the Opponent, dropping the corner of his gown, once more addressed +the holy man Giovanni:</p> + +<p>"My friend, these old Sophists knew not what Truth was. But I, who am a +student of physics and a great observer of natural curiosities, you may +believe me when I tell you she is white, or, more strictly speaking, +whiteness itself.</p> + +<p>"From which we must not conclude, I have told you before, that she is +pure. Consider the Lady Eletta, of Verona, whose thighs were like milk; + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page210" id="page210">[Pg 210]</a></span> + +think you for this they were abstract from the world in general, +withdrawn in the invisible and intangible, which is the pure, according +to the Platonic doctrine? You would be much mistaken if you supposed +so."</p> + +<p>"I do not know this Lady Eletta you speak of," said the holy man +Giovanni.</p> + +<p>"She gave herself and her living body," said the Opponent, "to two +Popes, sixty Cardinals, fourteen Princes, eighteen merchants, the Queen +of Cyprus, three Turks, four Jews, the Lord Bishop of Arezzo's ape, a +hermaphrodite, and the Devil. But we are wandering from our subject, +which is to discover the proper character of Truth.</p> + +<p>"Now, if this character is not purity, as I have just established it +cannot be in argument with Plato himself, it is conceivable it may be +impurity, which impurity is the necessary condition of all existing +things. For have we not just seen how the pure has neither life nor +consciousness? And you must yourself, I trow, have learned amply from +experience that life and all pertaining thereto is invariably compound, +blended, diversified, liable to increase and decrease, unstable, +soluble, corruptible—never pure."</p> + +<p>"Doctor," replied Giovanni, "your reasons are nothing worth, forasmuch +as God, who is all pure, exists." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page211" id="page211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the Subtle Doctor retorted:</p> + +<p>"If you would read your books more carefully, my son, you would see it +is said of Him you have just named, <i>not</i>, 'He exists,' but, 'He is.' +Now to exist and to be are not one and the same thing, but two opposite +things. You are alive, and do you not say yourself, 'I am nothing; I am +as if I were not'? And you do not say, 'I am he who is.' Because to +live, is each moment to cease to be. Again you say, 'I am full of +impurities,' forasmuch you are not a single thing, but a blending of +things that stir and strive."</p> + +<p>"Now do you speak wisely," answered the holy man, "and I see by your +discourse that you are very deep read, Subtle Sir, in the sciences, +divine as well as human. For true indeed it is God is He who is."</p> + +<p>"By the body of Bacchus," exclaimed the other, "He is, and that +perfectly and universally. Wherefore are we dispensed from seeking Him +in any single place, being assured He is to be discovered neither more +nor less in any one spot than in any other, and that you cannot find so +much as a pair of old spatterdashes without their due share of Him."</p> + +<p>"Admirably put, and most true," returned Giovanni. "But it is right to +add that He is more particularly in the sacred elements, by the way of +transubstantiation." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page212" id="page212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + +<p>"More than that!" added the learned Doctor; "He is actually edible in +them. Note moreover, my son, that He is round in an apple, long-shaped +in an aubergine, sharp in a knife and musical in a flute. He has all the +qualities of substances, and likewise all the properties of figures. He +is acute and He is obtuse, because He is at one and the same time all +possible triangles; his radii are at once equal and unequal, because He +is both the circle and the ellipse—and He is the hyperbola besides, +which is an indescribable figure."</p> + +<p>While the holy Giovanni was still pondering these sublime verities, he +heard the Subtle Doctor suddenly burst out a-laughing. Then he asked +him:</p> + +<p>"Why do you laugh?"</p> + +<p>"I am laughing," replied the Doctor, "to think how they have discovered +in me certain oppositions and contradictions, and have reproached me +bitterly for the same. It is very true I have many such. But they fail +to see that, if I had them all, I should then be like the Other."</p> + +<p>The holy man asked him:</p> + +<p>"What other is it you speak of?"</p> + +<p>And the Adversary answered:</p> + +<p>"If you knew of whom I speak, you would know who I am. And my wisest +words you would be loath to listen to, for much ill has been said of + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page213" id="page213">[Pg 213]</a></span> + +me. But, if you remain ignorant who I am, I can be of much use to you. I +will teach you how intensely sensitive men are to the sounds that the +lips utter, and how they let themselves be killed for the sake of words +that are devoid of meaning. This we see with the Martyrs,—and in your +own case, Giovanni, who look forward with joy to be strangled and then +burned to the singing of the Seven Psalms, in the Great Square of +Viterbo, for this word <i>Truth</i>, for which you could not by any +possibility discover a reasonable interpretation.</p> + +<p>"Verily you might ransack every hole and corner of your dim brain, and +pick over all the spiders' webs and old iron that cumber your head, +without ever lighting on a picklock to open this word and extract the +meaning. But for me, my poor friend, you would get yourself hanged and +your body burned for a word of one syllable which neither you nor your +judges know the sense of, so that none could ever have discovered which +to despise the most, hangmen or hanged.</p> + +<p>"Know then that Truth, your well-beloved mistress, is made up of +elements compacted of wet and dry, hard and soft, cold and hot, and that +it is with this lady as with women of common humanity, in whom soft +flesh and warm blood are not diffused equally in all the body."</p> + +<p>Fra Giovanni doubted in his simplicity whether + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page214" id="page214">[Pg 214]</a></span> + +this discourse was +altogether becoming. The Adversary read the holy man's thought, and +reassured him, saying:</p> + +<p>"Such is the learning we are taught at School. I am a Theologian, I!"</p> + +<p>Then he got up, and added:</p> + +<p>"I regret to leave you, friend; but I cannot tarry longer with you. For +I have many contradictions to pose to many men. I can taste no rest day +nor night; but I must be going ceaselessly from place to place, setting +down my lantern now on the scholar's desk, now at the bed's head of the +sick man who cannot sleep."</p> + +<p>So saying, he went away as he had come. And the holy man Giovanni asked +himself: "Why did this Doctor say, Truth was white, I wonder?" And lying +in the straw he kept revolving this question in his head. His body +shared the restlessness of his mind, and kept turning first one side +then the other in search of the repose he could not find.</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page215" id="page215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + +<h3>XIV</h3> + +<h3>GIOVANNI'S DREAM</h3> + +<p><img src="images/a1.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="85px" alt="A" title="A" />nd this is why, left alone in his dungeon, he prayed to the Lord, +saying:</p> + +<p>"O Lord! Thy loving-kindness is infinite toward me, and Thy favour +manifest, seeing Thou hast so willed I should lie on a dunghill, like +Job and Lazarus, whom Thou didst love so well. And Thou hast given me to +know how filthy straw is a soft and sweet pillow to the just man. And +Thou, dear Son of God, who didst descend into Hell, bless Thou the sleep +of Thy servant where he lies in the gloomy prison-house. Forasmuch as +men have robbed me of air and light, because I was steadfast to confess +the truth, deign to enlighten me with the glory of the everlasting +dayspring and feed me on the flames of Thy love, O living Truth, O Lord +my God!"</p> + +<p>Thus prayed the holy man Giovanni with his lips. But in his heart he +remembered the sayings + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page216" id="page216">[Pg 216]</a></span> + +of the Adversary. He was troubled to the bottom +of his spirit, and in much trouble and anguish of mind he fell asleep.</p> + +<p>And seeing the thought of the Adversary weighed heavy on his slumbers, +his sleep was not like the little child's lying on its mother's breast, +a gentle sleep of smiles and milk. And in his dreams he beheld a vast +wheel that shone with colours of living fire.</p> + +<p>It was like those rose windows of flower-like brilliancy that glow over +the doors of Churches, the masterpieces of Gothic craftsmen, and display +in the translucent glass the history of the Virgin Mary and the glory of +the Prophets. But the secret of these rose windows is unknown to the +Tuscan artificer.</p> + +<p>And this wheel was great and dazzling and brighter a thousandfold than +the best wrought of all the rose windows that ever were divided by +compass and painted with brush in the lands of the North. The Emperor +Charlemagne saw not the like the day he was crowned.</p> + +<p>The only man who ever beheld a wheel more splendid was the poet who, a +lady leading him, entered clothed in flesh into Holy Paradise. The rose +was of living light, and seemed alive itself, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page217" id="page217">[Pg 217]</a></span> + +every age and every +condition, in an eager crowd, formed the nave and spokes and felloe. +They were clad each according to his estate, and it was easy to +recognize Pope and Emperor, Kings and Queens, Bishops, Barons, Knights, +ladies, esquires, clerks, burghers, merchants, attorneys, apothecaries, +labourers, ruffians, Moors and Jews. Moreover, seeing all that live on +this earth were shown on the wheel, Satyrs and Cyclopes were there, and +Pygmies and Centaurs such as Africa nurses in her burning deserts, and +the men Marco Polo the traveller found, who are born without heads and +with a face below their navel.</p> + +<p>And from betwixt the lips of each there issued a scroll, bearing a +device. Now each device was of a hue which did not appear in any other, +and in all the incalculable multitude of devices, no two could have been +discovered of the same appearance. Some were dyed purple, others painted +with the bright colours of the sky and sea, or the shining of the stars, +yet others green as grass. Many were exceeding pale, many again +exceeding dark and sombre, the whole so ordered that the eye found in +these devices every one of the colours that paint the universe.</p> + +<p>The holy man Giovanni began to decipher them, by this means making +himself acquainted with the divers thoughts of divers men. And after +reading + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page218" id="page218">[Pg 218]</a></span> + +on a good while, he perceived that these devices were as much +diversified in the sense of the words as in the hues of the letters, and +that the sentences differed one from the other in such sort that there +was never a single one did not flatly contradict every other.</p> + +<p>But at the same time he noted that this contradiction which existed in +the head and body of the maxims did not continue in their tail, but that +they all agreed together very accurately in their lower extremity, all +ending in the same fashion, seeing each and all terminated in these +words, <i>Such is Truth</i>.</p> + +<p>And he said in his heart:</p> + +<p>"These mottoes are like the flowers young men and maidens pluck in the +water-meadows by the Arno, to make them into posies. For these flowers +are readily gathered together by the tails, while the heads keep +separate and fight amongst themselves in hue and brilliancy. And it is +the same with the opinions of human beings."</p> + +<p>And the holy man found in the devices a host of contradictions regarding +the origin of sovereignty, the fountains of knowledge, pleasure and +pain, things lawful and things unlawful. And he discovered likewise +mighty difficulties in connection with the shape of the Earth and the +Divinity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, by reason of the Heretics + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page219" id="page219">[Pg 219]</a></span> + +and Arabs +and Jews, the monsters of the African desert and the Epicureans, who all +had their place, a scroll in their lips, on the wheel of fire.</p> + +<p>And each sentence ended in this way, <i>Such is Truth</i>. And the holy man +Giovanni marvelled to see so many truths all diversely coloured. He saw +red, and blue, and green, and yellow, but he saw no white—not even the +one the Pope made proclamation of, to wit, "On this rock have I built my +Church and committed thereto the crowns of all the world." Indeed this +device was all red and as if blood-stained.</p> + +<p>And the holy man sighed:</p> + +<p>"Then I am never to find on the wheel of the universe the pure, white +Truth, the immaculate and candid Truth, I would find."</p> + +<p>And he called upon Truth, crying with tears in his eyes:</p> + +<p>"Truth! Truth! for whose sake I am to die, show yourself before your +martyr's eyes."</p> + +<p>And lo! as he was wailing out the words, the living wheel began to +revolve, and the devices, running one into the other, no longer kept +distinct, while on the great disk came circles of every hue, circles +wider and wider the further they were from the centre.</p> + +<p>Then as the motion grew faster, these circles disappeared one by one; +the widest vanished first, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page220" id="page220">[Pg 220]</a></span> + +because the speed was swiftest near the +felloe of the wheel. But directly the wheel began to spin so fast the +eye could not see it move and it seemed to stand motionless, the +smallest circles too disappeared, like the morning-star when the sun +pales the hills of Assisi.</p> + +<p>Then at the last the wheel looked all white; and it overpassed in +brilliance the translucent orb where the Florentine poet saw Beatrice in +the dewdrop. It seemed as though an Angel, wiping the eternal pearl to +cleanse it of all stains, had set it on the Earth, so like was the wheel +to the Moon, when she shines high in the heavens lightly veiled under +the gauze of filmy clouds. For at these times no shadow of a man +carrying sticks, no mark at all, shows on her opalescent surface. Even +so never a stain was visible on the wheel of light.</p> + +<p>And the holy man Giovanni heard a voice which said to him:</p> + +<p>"Behold that same white Truth you were fain to contemplate. And know it +is built up of the divers contradictory truths, in the same fashion as +all colours go to make up white. The little children of Viterbo know +this, for having spun their tops striped with many colours on the flags +on the Great Market. But the doctors of Bologna never guessed the +reasons for this appearance. Now in every one of the devices was a +portion of the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page221" id="page221">[Pg 221]</a></span> + +Truth, and all together make up the true and veritable +device."</p> + +<p>"Alas! and alas!" replied the holy man, "how am I to read it? For my +eyes are dazzled."</p> + +<p>And the voice answered:</p> + +<p>"Very true, there is naught to be seen there but flashing fire. No Latin +letters, nor Arabic, nor Greek, no cabalistic signs, can ever express +this device; and no hand is there may trace it in characters of flame on +palace walls.</p> + +<p>"Friend, never set your heart on reading what is not written. Only know +this, that whatsoever a man has thought or believed in his brief +lifetime is a parcel of this infinite Truth; and that, even as much dirt +and disorder enter into what we call the order of nature, that is the +clean and proper ordering of the universe, so the maxims of knaves and +fools, who make the mass of mankind, participate in some sort in that +general and universal Truth-which is absolute, everlasting and divine. +Which makes me sore afraid, by the by, it may very like not exist at +all."</p> + +<p>And with a great burst of mocking laughter, the voice fell silent.</p> + +<p>Then the holy man saw a long leg stretched out, in red hose, and inside +the shoe the foot seemed cloven and like a goat's, only much larger. And +it gave the wheel of light so shrewd a kick on the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page222" id="page222">[Pg 222]</a></span> + +rim of its felloe, +that sparks flew out as they do when the blacksmith smites the iron with +his hammer, and the great wheel leapt into the air to fall far away, +broken into fragments. Meantime the air was filled with such piercing +laughter that the holy man awoke.</p> + +<p>And in the livid gloom of the dungeon, he thought sadly:</p> + +<p>"I have no hope or wish left to know Truth, if, as has just been +manifested to me, she only shows herself in contradictions and +inconsistencies. How shall I dare by my death to be witness and martyr +of what men must believe, now the vision of the wheel of the universe +has made me see how every particular falsehood is a parcel of general +Truth, absolute and unknowable? Why, O my God, have you suffered me to +behold these things, and let it be revealed to me before my last sleep, +that Truth is everywhere and that she is nowhere?"</p> + +<p>And the holy man laid his head in his hands and wept.</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page223" id="page223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + +<h3>XV</h3> + +<h3>THE JUDGMENT</h3> + +<p><img src="images/f1.jpg" align="left" height="100px" width="91px" alt="F" title="F"/>ra Giovanni was led before the Magistrates of the Republic to be judged +according to the laws of Viterbo. And one of the Magistrates said to the +guards:</p> + +<p>"Take his chains off him. For every person accused should appear freely +before us."</p> + +<p>And Giovanni thought:</p> + +<p>"Why does the Judge pronounce words that are not straight?"</p> + +<p>And the first of the Magistrates began to question the holy man, and +said to him:</p> + +<p>"Giovanni, bad man that you are, being thrown in prison by the august +clemency of the laws, you have spoken against those laws. You have +contrived with wicked men, chained in the same dungeon as yourself, a +plot to overthrow the order stablished in this city."</p> + +<p>The holy man Giovanni made answer:</p> + +<p>"Nay! I but spoke for Justice and Truth. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page224" id="page224">[Pg 224]</a></span> + +If the laws of the city are +agreeable to Justice and Truth, I have not spoken against them. I have +only spoken words of loving-kindness. I said:</p> + +<p>"'Strive not to destroy force by force. Be peaceable in the midst of +wars, to the end the spirit of God may rest on you like a little bird on +the top of a poplar in the valley that is flooded by the torrent.' I +said, 'Be gentle toward the men of violence.'"</p> + +<p>Then the Judge cried out in anger:</p> + +<p>"Speak! tell us who are the men of violence."</p> + +<p>But the holy man said:</p> + +<p>"You are for milking the cow that has given all her milk, and would +learn of me more than I know."</p> + +<p>However the Judge imposed silence on the holy man, and he said:</p> + +<p>"Your tongue has discharged the arrow of your discourse, and its shot +was aimed at the Republic. Only it has lighted lower, and turned back +upon yourself."</p> + +<p>And the holy man said:</p> + +<p>"You judge me, not by my acts and my words, which are manifest, but by +my motives, which are visible only to God's eye."</p> + +<p>And the Judge replied:</p> + +<p>"Nay! if we could not see the invisible and were not gods upon earth, +how would it be possible + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page225" id="page225">[Pg 225]</a></span> + +for us to judge folk? Do you not know a law +has just been passed in Viterbo, which punishes even men's secret +thoughts? For the police of cities is for ever being perfected, and the +wise Ulpian, who held the rule and the square in the days of Cæsar, +would be astonished himself, if he could see our rules and squares, +improved as they are."</p> + +<p>And the Judge said again:</p> + +<p>"Giovanni, you have been conspiring in your prison against the common +weal."</p> + +<p>But the holy man denied having ever conspired against the weal of +Viterbo. Then the Judge said:</p> + +<p>"The gaoler has given testimony against you."</p> + +<p>And the holy man asked the Judge:</p> + +<p>"What weight will my testimony have in one scale, when that of the +gaoler is in the other?"</p> + +<p>The Judge answered:</p> + +<p>"Why! yours will kick the beam."</p> + +<p>Wherefore the holy man held his peace henceforth.</p> + +<p>Then the Judge declared:</p> + +<p>"Anon you were talking, and the words you said proved your perfidy. Now +you say nothing, and your silence is the avowal of your crime. So you +have confessed your guilt twice over."</p> + +<p>And the Magistrate they entitled the Accuser rose and said:</p> + +<p>"The illustrious city of Viterbo speaks by my + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page226" id="page226">[Pg 226]</a></span> + +voice, and my voice shall +be grave and calm, because it is the public voice. And you will think +you are listening to a bronze statue speaking, for I make accusation not +with my heart and bowels, but with the tables of bronze whereon the Law +is inscribed."</p> + +<p>And straightway he began to gesticulate furiously and utter a raging +torrent of words. And he declaimed the argument of a play, in imitation +of Seneca the Tragedian: and this drama was filled full of crimes +committed by the holy man Giovanni. And the Accuser represented in +succession all the characters of the tragedy. He mimicked the groans of +the victims and the voice of Giovanni, the better to strike awe into his +audience, who seemed to hear and see Giovanni himself, intoxicated with +hate and evildoing. And the Accuser tore his hair and rent his gown and +fell back exhausted on his august seat of office.</p> + +<p>And the Judge who had questioned the accused before took up the word +again and said:</p> + +<p>"It is meet a citizen defend this man. For none, so says the law of +Viterbo, may be condemned without having been first defended."</p> + +<p>Thereupon an Advocate of Viterbo got up on a stool and spoke in these +terms:</p> + +<p>"If this monk has said and done what is laid to his charge, he is very +wicked. But we have no + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page227" id="page227">[Pg 227]</a></span> + +proof that he has spoken and acted in the manner +supposed. Moreover, good sirs, had we this proof, it would behove us to +consider further the extreme simplicity of the man and the feebleness of +his understanding. He was the laughing-stock of the children in the +Public Square. He is ignorant; he has done a thousand extravagances. For +my own part I believe he is beside himself. What he says is worthless +nonsense, and there is nothing sensible he can do. I think he has been +frequenting seditious societies; and goes about repeating what he heard +there, without understanding a word of it. He is too dull-witted to be +punished. Look out for his instructors; it is they are to blame. There +are many difficulties in the matter, and the wise man has told us, 'In +doubt, refrain from action.'"</p> + +<p>Having so said, the Advocate stepped down from his stool. And Brother +Giovanni received his death sentence. And he was informed he was to be +hanged in the Square where the peasant women come to sell fruit and +vegetables and the children to play knucklebones.</p> + +<p>Next a very illustrious Doctor of Law, who was one of the Judges, got up +and said:</p> + +<p>"Giovanni, it behoves you to subscribe consent to the sentence +condemning you, for being pronounced in the name of the city, it is +pronounced by yourself, inasmuch as you are part and parcel + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page228" id="page228">[Pg 228]</a></span> + + of the +city. You have an honourable part in it, as citizen, and I will convince +you that you ought to be well content to be strangled by the city's +judgment.</p> + +<p>"Know this, the satisfaction of the whole comprehends and embraces the +satisfaction of the parts, and seeing you are a part—a vile and +miserable part, yet still a part—of the noble city of Viterbo, your +condemnation which satisfies the community should be no less +satisfactory to yourself.</p> + +<p>"And I will further prove you that you should rightly consider death +doom agreeable and fitting. For there is no other thing so useful and +becoming as is the law, which is the just measure of things, and you +ought to be pleased to have received this same just and proper measure. +In accordance with the rules stablished by Cæsar Justinian, you have got +your due. Your condemnation is just, and therefore a pleasant and a good +thing. But, were it unjust and tainted and contaminated with ignorance +and iniquity (which God forbid), still it would be incumbent on you to +approve the same.</p> + +<p>"For an unjust sentence, when it is pronounced in the prescribed forms +of law, participates in the virtue of the said forms and through them +continues august, efficacious and of high merit. What it contains of +wrong is temporary and of little consequence, and concerns only the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page229" id="page229">[Pg 229]</a></span> + +particular instance, whereas the good in it derives from the fixity and +permanence of the organization of the laws, and therefore is it +agreeable to the general dictates of justice. Wherefore Papinian +declares it is better to give false judgment than none at all, seeing +how men without justice are no better than wild beasts in the woods, +whereas by justice is made manifest their nobleness and dignity, as is +seen by the example of the Judges of the Areopagus, who were held in +special honour among the Athenians. So, seeing it is necessary and +profitable to give judgment, and that it is not possible to do so +without fault or mistake, it follows that mistake and faultiness are +comprised in the excellence of Justice and participate in the said +excellence. Accordingly, supposing you deemed your sentence unfair, you +should find satisfaction in this unfairness, inasmuch as it is united +and amalgamated with fairness, just as tin and copper are fused together +to make bronze, which is a precious metal and employed for very noble +purposes, in the fashion Pliny describes in his Histories."</p> + +<p>The learned Doctor then proceeded to enumerate the conveniencies and +advantages which flow from expiation and wash away sin, as the maids +every Saturday wash the courtyards of their masters' houses. And he +demonstrated to the holy man + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page230" id="page230">[Pg 230]</a></span> + +what a boon it was for him to be condemned +to death by the august good pleasure of the Commonwealth of Viterbo, +which had granted him judges and a defender. And so soon as the Doctor's +eloquence was exhausted and he fell silent, Fra Giovanni was fettered +once more and led back to prison.</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page231" id="page231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> + +<h3>XVI</h3> + +<h3>THE PRINCE OF THIS WORLD</h3> + +<p><img src="images/n1.jpg" align="left" height="92px" width="84px" alt="N" title="N" />ow on the morning appointed for his hanging, the holy man Giovanni was +lying sound asleep. And the Subtle Doctor came and opened the door of +his prison cell, and pulling him by the sleeve, cried:</p> + +<p>"Ho! there, son of woman, awake! The day is just unclosing his grey +eyes. The lark is singing, and the morning mists kissing the mountain +sides. Clouds glide along the hills, soft and sinuous, snow-white with +rosy reflexions,—which are the flanks and bosoms and loins of immortal +nymphs, divine daughters of the rivers and the sky, maidens of the morn +old Oceanus leads forth along the heights,—a flock multiform as his +waves, and who welcome to their cool, fresh arms, on a couch of +hyacinths and anemones, the gods, masters of the world, and the shepherd +swains loved of goddesses. For there are shepherds their mothers bore +beautiful and worthy the bed + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page232" id="page232">[Pg 232]</a></span> + +of the nymphs that dwell in the +water-springs and woodlands.</p> + +<p>"And for myself, who have deeply studied the secrets of nature, seeing +but now these clouds curling wantonly round the bosom of the hill, I was +filled with mysterious longings at the sight, longings I know nothing of +but that they spring from the region of my loins, and that, like the +infant Hercules, they showed their strength from the very cradle. And +these longings were not merely after rosy mists and floating clouds; +they pictured very precisely a wench named Monna Libetta I made +acquaintance with once in travelling, at Castro, at an inn where she was +serving-maid and at the free disposal of the muleteers and soldiers +frequenting it.</p> + +<p>"But the picture I framed in my mind of Monna Libetta, this morning, as +I fared along the slopes of the hills, was wondrously embellished by the +tenderness of recollection and the regrets of separation, and she was +tricked out with all the pretty fancies that, springing from the loins +as I said, presently send their fragrant fire coursing through all the +body's soul, transfusing it with languishing ardours and pains that are +a delicious pleasure.</p> + +<p>"For I would have you know, my Giovanni, that looking at her calmly and +coldly, the girl + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page233" id="page233">[Pg 233]</a></span> + +was not greatly different from all the rest of the +country wenches that, in the plains of Umbria and the Roman Marches, go +afield to milk the cattle. She had dark eyes, slow and sullen, a +sunburnt face, a big mouth, the bosom heavy, the belly tanned and the +forepart of the legs, from the knee, shaggy with hair. Her laugh was +ready and rude, in a general way; but in act with a lover, her face grew +dark and transfigured as if with wonder at the presence of a god. 'Twas +this had attached me to her, and I have many a time pondered since on +the nature of this attachment, for I am learned and curious to search +out the reasons of things.</p> + +<p>"And I discovered the force that drew me toward this girl Monna Libetta, +maid-servant at the inn of Castro, was the same that governs the stars +in heaven and that there is one force and one only in the world, which +is Love. And it is likewise Hate, as is shown by the case of this same +Monna Libetta, who was fiercely fondled, and just as fiercely beaten.</p> + +<p>"And I mind me how a groom in the Pope's stables, who was her chief +lover, struck her so savagely one night in the hay-loft where he was +bedding with her, that he left her lying there for dead. And he rushed +crying through the streets that the vampires had strangled the girl. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page234" id="page234">[Pg 234]</a></span> + +These be subjects a man must needs ponder if he would gain some notion +of true physics and natural philosophy."</p> + +<p>Thus spoke the Subtle Doctor. And the holy man Giovanni sitting up on +his bedding of dung, answered:</p> + +<p>"Nay! Doctor, is this language meet to address to a man that is to be +hanged in a very short while? Hearing you, I am filled with doubt +whether your words are the words of a good man and a great Theologian, +or if they do not rather come from an evil dream sent by the Angel of +Darkness."</p> + +<p>But the Subtle Doctor made answer:</p> + +<p>"Who talks of being hanged? I tell you, Giovanni, I am come hither, at +the earliest peep of day, to set you free and help you to fly. See! I +have donned a gaoler's habit; the prison door stands open. Quick! up and +away!"</p> + +<p>At this the holy man rose to his feet, and answered:</p> + +<p>"Doctor, take heed what you are saying. I have made the sacrifice of my +life, and I admit it has cost me dear to make it. If trusting to your +word that I am restored to life, I am then led to the place of +execution, I must needs make a second sacrifice more grievous than the +first, and suffer two deaths instead of out. And I confess + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page235" id="page235">[Pg 235]</a></span> + + to you my +desire of martyrdom is vanished away, and a longing come upon me to +breathe the air of day under the branches of the mountain pines."</p> + +<p>The Subtle Doctor made reply:</p> + +<p>"It happens that was just my intent to lead you away under the pines +rustling in the wind with the soft sighing of a flute. We will break our +fast sitting on the mossy slope overlooking the city. Come with me! Why +do you tarry?"</p> + +<p>And the holy man said:</p> + +<p>"Before going hence with you, I would fain know clearly who you are. I +am fallen from my first constancy; my courage is no better now than a +straw blown about on the wasted threshing-floor of my virtue. But I am +left my faith in the Son of God, and to save my body, I would ill like +to lose my soul."</p> + +<p>"Verily," cried the Subtle Doctor, "think you verily I have any desire +of your soul! Is it then so fair a maid and sweet a lady you are afraid +I may rob you of it? Nay! keep it, friend; I could make nothing of it."</p> + +<p>The holy man was scarce assured by what he heard, for the other's words +breathed no pious odour. But, as he was exceeding eager to be free, he +asked no more questions, but followed the Doctor and passed the wicket +of the prison by his side. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page236" id="page236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> + +<p>Only when he was without, he inquired:</p> + +<p>"Who are you, you who send dreams to men and set prisoners free? You +have the beauty of a woman and the strength of a man, and I admire you, +though I cannot love you."</p> + +<p>And the Subtle Doctor answered:</p> + +<p>"You will love me so soon as I have made you suffer. Men cannot love but +those who make them suffer; and there is no love except in pain."</p> + +<p>And so conversing, they left the city and began climbing the mountain +paths. And after faring far, they saw at the entering in of a wood a +red-tiled house, before which was a wide terrace overlooking the plain, +planted with fruit trees and bordered with vines.</p> + +<p>So they sat down in the courtyard at the foot of a vine trunk; its +leaves were gilded by the Autumn and from the boughs hung clusters of +grapes. And a girl brought them milk and honey and cakes of maize.</p> + +<p>Presently the Subtle Doctor, stretching out his arm, plucked a +scarlet-cheeked apple, bit into it and gave it to the holy man. And +Giovanni ate and drank; and his beard was all white with milk and his +eyes laughed as he gazed up at the sky, which filled them with blue +light and joy. And the girl smiled. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page237" id="page237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then the Subtle Doctor said:</p> + +<p>"Look at yonder child; she is far comelier than Monna Libetta."</p> + +<p>And the holy man, intoxicated with milk and honey, and made merry with +the light of day, sang songs his mother was used to sing when she +carried him as a babe in her arms. They were songs of shepherds and +shepherdesses, and they spoke of love. And as the girl stood listening +on the threshold of the door, the holy man left his seat and ran +staggering towards her, took her in his arms and showered on her cheeks +kisses full of milk, laughter and joy.</p> + +<p>And the Subtle Doctor having paid the reckoning, the two travellers hied +them toward the plain.</p> + +<p>As they were walking between the silvery willows that border the water, +the holy man said:</p> + +<p>"Let us sit; for now I am weary."</p> + +<p>So they sat down beneath a willow, and watched the water-flags curling +their sword-like leaves on the river banks and the bright-coloured flies +flashing over the surface. But Giovanni's laughter was ceased, and his +face was sad.</p> + +<p>And the Subtle Doctor asked him:</p> + +<p>"Why are you so pensive?"</p> + +<p>And Giovanni answered him: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page238" id="page238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I have felt through you the sweet caress of living things, and I am +troubled at heart. I have tasted the milk and the honey. I have looked +on the servant-maid standing at the threshold and seen that she was +comely. And disquietude is in my soul and in my flesh.</p> + +<p>"What a long road I have travelled since I have known you. Do you +remember the grove of holm-oaks where I saw you the first time? For be +sure, I recognize you.</p> + +<p>"You it was visited me in my hermit's cell and stood before me with +woman's eyes sparkling through a transparent veil, while your alluring +mouth instructed me in the entanglements of Right and Wrong. Again it +was you appeared in the meadows clad in a golden cope, like an Ambrose +or an Augustine. Then I knew not the curse of thought; but you set me +thinking. You put pride like a coal of fire on my lips; and I learned to +speculate. But as yet, in the untrained freshness of my wit and raw +youthfulness of mind, I felt no doubt. But again you came to me, and +gave me uncertainty to feed on and doubt to drink like wine. So comes +it, that this day I taste through you the entrancing illusion of things, +and that the soul of woods and streams, of sky and earth, and living +shapes, penetrates my breast. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page239" id="page239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And lo! I am a miserable man, because I have followed after you, Prince +of men!"</p> + +<p>And Giovanni gazed at his companion, who stood there beautiful as day +and night. And he said to him:</p> + +<p>"Through you it is I suffer, and I love you. I love you because you are +my misery and my pride, my joy and my sorrow, the splendour and the +cruelty of things created, because you are desire and speculation, and +because you have made me like unto yourself. For verily your promise in +the Garden, in the dawn of this world's days, was not vain, and I have +tasted the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil, O Satan."</p> + +<p>Presently Giovanni resumed again.</p> + +<p>"I know, I see, I feel, I will, I suffer. And I love you for all the ill +you have done me. I love you, because you have undone me."</p> + +<p>And, leaning on the Archangel's shoulder, the man wept bitterly.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page241" id="page241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE MYSTIC BLOOD</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page242" id="page242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> + +<h3>TO FÉLIX JEANTET</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page243" id="page243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<h4>THE MYSTIC BLOOD</h4> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>La Bocca sua non diceva se non Jesù e Caterina, e cosi dicendo +ricevatti el capo nelle mani mie, fermando l'occhio nella Divina Bontà, +e dicendo: lo voglio....</i></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 40em">(<i>Le lettere di S. Caterina da Siena.</i><br /> +—xcvii, Gigli e Burlamacchi.)<a name="FNanchor_1_15" id="FNanchor_1_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_15" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<p><img src="images/t1.jpg" align="left" height="100px" width="89px" alt="T" title="T" />he good town of Sienna was like a sick man that seeks vainly for a +restful place in his bed, and thinks, by turning about and about, to +cheat his pain. Again and again had she changed the government of the +Republic, which passed from the Consuls to the Assemblies of the +Burghers, and, originally entrusted to the Nobles, was subsequently +exercised by the money-changers, drapers, apothecaries, furriers, +silk-mercers and all such citizens as were concerned with the superior +arts and crafts. But these worthies having shown themselves weak and +self-seeking, the People expelled them in their turn and entrusted the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page244" id="page244">[Pg 244]</a></span> + +sovereign power to the petty artisans. In the year 1368 of the glorious +Incarnation of the Son of God, the Signory was composed of fourteen +Magistrates chosen from among the hosiers, butchers, locksmiths, +shoemakers, and stonemasons, who together formed a Great Council known +as the <i>Mount of the Reformers</i>. They were a plebeian band, rough and +hard as the bronze She-Wolf, emblem of their city, which they loved with +an affection at once filial and formidable. But the People, which had +set them up over the Commonwealth, had suffered another body to continue +in existence, though subordinate to them, the Twelve to wit, who came +from the class of Bankers and wealthy Merchants. These men were in +conspiracy with the Nobles, at the Emperor's instigation, to sell the +City to the Pope of Rome.</p> + +<p>The German Kaiser was the life and soul of the plot, promising the aid +of his landsknechts to guarantee success. He was in the utmost haste to +have the affair ended, hoping with the price of the bargain, he might be +able to redeem the Crown of Charlemagne, pledged for sixteen hundred +florins with the Florentine Bankers.</p> + +<p>Meantime, they of the <i>Reformers' Mount</i>, who formed the Signory, held +firm the rod of government and watched heedfully over the safety of the +Republic. These artisans, officers of a free People, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page245" id="page245">[Pg 245]</a></span> + +had refused the +Emperor, when he came within their walls, bread, water, salt and fire; +they had driven him forth the city groaning and trembling, and they now +condemned the conspirators to death. Guardians of the town founded by +Remus long ago, they copied the sternness of the first Consuls of Rome. +But their city, which went clad in silk and cloth-of-gold, was ever +ready to slip betwixt their fingers, like a lascivious, false-hearted +wanton; and fear and anxiety made them implacable.</p> + +<p>In the year 1370 they discovered that a nobleman of Perugia, Ser Niccola +Tuldo, had been sent by the Pope to stir up the Siennese, in connivance +with the Kaiser, to deliver up the city to the Holy Father. The young +Lord in question was in the prime of manly beauty, and had learned in +the company of fair ladies those arts of flattery and seductive +compliment he now proceeded to practise in the Palace of the Salimbeni +and the shops of the money-changers. And, for all his light heart and +empty head, he gained over to the Pope's side many burghers and some +artisans. Informed of his intrigues, the Magistrates of the <i>Mount of +the Reformers</i> had him brought before their august Council, and after +questioning him underneath the gonfalon of the Republic, which shows a +Lion rampant for device, they declared + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page246" id="page246">[Pg 246]</a></span> + +him guilty of attempted outrage +against the liberties of the City.</p> + +<p>He had answered with mere smiling scorn to the questions of these +cobbler fellows and butchers. But when he heard his sentence of death +pronounced, he fell into ecstasy of deep astonishment, and was led away +to prison as if in a trance. No sooner was he locked up in his cell +than, awaking from his stupor, he began to regret the life he was to +lose with all the ardour of his young blood and impetuous character; +visions of all its pleasures, arms, women, horses, crowded before his +eyes, and at the thought he would never enjoy the delights more, he was +carried away by so furious a despair he beat with fists and forehead on +the walls of his dungeon, and gave vent to such wild howls as were +audible over all the neighbourhood, even in the burghers' houses and the +drapers' booths. The gaoler coming in to know the cause of the uproar, +found him covered with blood and foaming at the mouth.</p> + +<p>Ser Niccola Tuldo never left off howling with rage for three days and +three nights.</p> + +<p>The thing was reported to the <i>Mount of the Reformers</i>. The members of +the most august Signory, after despatching their more pressing business, +examined into the case of the unhappy man in the condemned cell. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page247" id="page247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> + +<p>Leone Rancati, brickmaker by trade, said:</p> + +<p>"The man must pay with his head for his crime against the Commonwealth +of Sienna; and none can relieve him of this debt, without encroaching on +the sacred rights of the City our mother. He must needs die; but his +soul is his Maker's, and it is not meet that through our fault he die in +this sinful state of madness and despair. Therefore should we use all +the means within our competence to assure his eternal salvation."</p> + +<p>Matteino Renzano, the baker, a man famed for his wisdom, rose in his +turn and said:</p> + +<p>"Well spoken, Leone Rancati! The case demands we send to the condemned +man Catherine, the fuller's daughter."</p> + +<p>The advice was approved by all the Signory, who resolved to invite +Catherine to visit Niccola Tuldo in his prison.</p> + +<p>In those days Catherine, daughter of Giacomo the fuller, filled all the +city of Sienna with the perfume of her virtues. She dwelt in a little +cell in her father's house and wore the habit of the Sisters of +Penitence. She carried girt about her under her gown of white linen an +iron chain, and scourged herself an hour long every day. Then, showing +her arms covered with wounds, she would cry, "Behold my pretty red +roses!" She cultivated in her chamber lilies and violets, wherewith + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page248" id="page248">[Pg 248]</a></span> + + she +wove garlands for the altars of the Virgin and the Saints. And all the +while she would be singing hymns in the vulgar tongue to the praise of +Jesus and Mary His Mother. In those mournful times, when the city of +Sienna was a hostel of sorrow, and a house of joy to boot, Catherine was +ever visiting the unhappy prisoners, and telling the prostitutes: "My +sisters, how fain would I hide you in the loving wounds of the Saviour!" +A maiden so pure, fired with so sweet charity, could nowhere have budded +and blossomed but at Sienna, which under all its defilements and amid +all its crimes, was still the City of the Blessed Virgin.</p> + +<p>Apprised by the Magistrates, Catherine betook herself to the public gaol +on the morning of the day Ser Niccola Tuldo was to die. She found him +stretched on the stone floor of the dungeon, bellowing blasphemies. +Raising the white veil the blessed St. Dominic himself had come down +from Paradise to lay upon her brow, she showed the prisoner a +countenance of heavenly beauty. As he gazed at her in wonder, she leant +over him to wipe away the spume that defiled his mouth.</p> + +<p>Ser Niccola Tuldo, turning on her eyes that still retained their savage +ferocity, cried out:</p> + +<p>"Begone! I hate you, because you are of Sienna, the city that slays me. +Oh! Sienna, she-wolf + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page249" id="page249">[Pg 249]</a></span> + +indeed, that with her vile claws tears out the +throat of a noble gentleman of Perugia! Horrid she-wolf! unclean and +inhuman hell-hound!"</p> + +<p>But Catherine made answer:</p> + +<p>"Nay! brother, what is a city, what are all the cities of the earth, +beside the City of God and the holy Angels? I am Catherine, and I am +come to call you to the everlasting nuptials."</p> + +<p>The sweet voice and beaming face shed a sudden peace and radiance over +the savage soul of Niccola Tuldo. He remembered the days of his +innocence, and cried like a child.</p> + +<p>The sun, rising above the Apennines, was just whitening the prison walls +with its earliest rays. Catherine said:</p> + +<p>"Look, the dawn! Up, up, my brother, for the eternal nuptials! Up, I +say!"</p> + +<p>And raising him from the ground, she drew him into the Chapel, where Fra +Cattaneo confessed him.</p> + +<p>Ser Niccola Tuldo then listened devoutly to the holy Mass and received +the body of Our Lord. This done, he turned to Catherine and said:</p> + +<p>"Stay with me; do not leave me, and I shall be well, and shall die +content."</p> + +<p>The bells began to toll the signal for the execution. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page250" id="page250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then Catherine answered:</p> + +<p>"Gentle brother, I will wait you at the place of Justice."</p> + +<p>At this, Ser Niccola smiled and said, as if ravished with bliss:</p> + +<p>"Joy! joy! the Delight of my soul will wait me at the holy place of +Justice!"</p> + +<p>Catherine pondered and prayed, finally saying:</p> + +<p>"Gracious Lord, Thou hast indeed wrought in him a great enlightenment, +seeing he calls holy the place of Justice."</p> + +<p>Ser Niccola went on:</p> + +<p>"Yes! I shall hie me thither, strong in heart and rejoicing. I weary, as +though I had a thousand years to wait, to be there, where I shall find +you once more."</p> + +<p>"Farewell till the nuptials, the everlasting nuptials!" Catherine cried +again, as she left the prison.</p> + +<p>The condemned man was served with a little bread and wine, and supplied +with a black cloak; then he was led forth along the precipitous streets, +to the sound of trumpets, between the city guards, beneath the banner of +the Republic. The ways swarmed with curious onlookers, and women lifted +their little ones in their arms, showing them the man doomed to die.</p> + +<p>Meantime Niccola Tuldo was dreaming of + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page251" id="page251">[Pg 251]</a></span> + +Catherine, and his lips, that +had so long been bitter, opened softly as though to kiss the likeness of +the blessed maid.</p> + +<p>After climbing for some while the rude brick-paved road, the procession +reached one of the heights dominating the city, and the condemned man +saw suddenly, with his eyes that were soon to see no more, the roofs, +domes, cloisters, and towers of Sienna, and further away the walls that +followed the slope of the hills. The sight reminded him of his native +town, the gay city of Perugia, surrounded with its gardens, where +springs of living water sing amid the fruits and flowers. He saw once +more in fancy the terrace that looks over the vale of Trasimene, whence +the eye drinks in the light of day with delight.</p> + +<p>And the yearning for life tore his heart afresh, and he sighed:</p> + +<p>"Oh! city of my fathers! Oh! house of my birth!"</p> + +<p>But presently the thought of Catherine re-entered his soul, filling it +to the brim with gladness and sweet peace.</p> + +<p>Finally they arrive in the Market Square, where each Saturday the +peasant girls of Camiano and Granayola display their citrons, grapes, +figs, and pomegranates, and hail the housewives with merry appeals to +buy, not unmixed with high-spiced jests. <span class='pagenum'><a name="page252" id="page252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +It was there the scaffold was erected; and there Ser Niccola beheld +Catherine kneeling in prayer, her head resting on the block.</p> + +<p>He climbed the steps with eager joy. At his coming, Catherine rose and +turned toward him with all the look of a bride once more united to her +spouse; she insisted on baring his neck with her own hands and placing +her dear one on the block as on a marriage bed.</p> + +<p>Then she knelt down beside him. Thrice he repeated in fervent tones, +"Jesus, Catherine!"—after which the executioner struck with his sword, +and the maiden caught the severed head within her hands. Hereupon all +the victim's blood seemed to be suffused in her, and to fill her veins +with a flood as soft as warm milk; a fragrant odour set her nostrils +quivering, while before her swooning eyes floated the shadows of angels. +Filled with wonder and joy unspeakable, she fell softly into the depths +of celestial ecstasy.</p> + +<p>Two women of the third Order of St. Dominic, who stood at the foot of +the scaffold, seeing her stretched there motionless, hastened to raise +her up and support her in their arms. The holy maid, coming to herself, +told them: "I have seen the heavens opened!"</p> + +<p>One of the women made as though to wash away with a sponge the blood +that covered St. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page253" id="page253">[Pg 253]</a></span> + +Catherine's robe, but she stopped her, crying out +eagerly:</p> + +<p>"No, no! leave the blood, leave it; never rob me of my purple and my +perfumes!"</p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_15" id="Footnote_1_15"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_15"><span class="label">1</span></a> +"His mouth spake no word but only Jesus and Caterina, and +with these words I received his head in my two hands, as he closed his +eyes in the Divine Goodness, and said: I will...." (<i>Letters of St. +Catherine of Sienna</i>—xcvii, ed. Gigli e Burlamacchi.)</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page255" id="page255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p> + +<h2>A SOUND SECURITY</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page256" id="page256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> + +<h3>TO HENRI LAVEDAN</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page257" id="page257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<h4>A SOUND SECURITY</h4> + +<p style="margin-left: 22em"><i>. . . . . . . . Par cest ymage<br /> +Te doing en pleige Jhesu-Crist<br /> +Qui tout fist, ainsi est escript:<br /> +il te pleige tout ton avoir;<br /> +Ne peuz nulz si bon pleige avoir.</i></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 38em">(<i>Miracles de Notre-Dame par personnages</i>,<br /> +publ. par. G. Paris et U. Robert.)<a name="FNanchor_1_16" id="FNanchor_1_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_16" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<p><img src="images/o.jpg" align="left" height="100px" width="92px" alt="O" title="O" />f all the merchants of Venice, Fabio Mutinelli was the most exact in +keeping his engagements. In all cases he showed himself free-handed and +sumptuous in his dealings,—above all where ladies and churchmen were +concerned. The elegance and honesty of his character were renowned +throughout the State, and all admired at San Zanipolo an altar of gold +he had offered to St. Catherine for the love of the fair Catherine +Manini, wife of the Senator Alesso Cornaro. Being very wealthy, he had +numerous + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page258" id="page258">[Pg 258]</a></span> + +friends, whom he entertained at feasts and helped at need from his +purse. However, he incurred heavy losses in the war against the Genoese +and in the Naples troubles. It fell out, moreover, that thirty of his +ships were taken by the Uscoque pirates or foundered at sea. The Pope, +to whom he had lent great sums of money, refused to repay a doit. The +result of all was, the magnificent Fabio Mutinelli was stripped bare in +brief space of all his riches. After selling his Palace and plate to pay +what he owed, he found himself left without anything. But clever, bold, +well practised in affairs and in the vigour of his powers, his only +thought was to make head once more against fortune. He made careful +calculation and judged that five hundred ducats were needful for him to +take the sea again and attempt fresh enterprises for which he augured +happy and sure success. He asked the Signor Alesso Bontura, who was the +richest citizen of the Republic, to oblige him by lending him the five +hundred ducats. But the good Bontura, holding that if daring wins great +gains, 'tis prudence only keeps the same, refused to expose so great a +sum to the risks of sea and shipwreck. Fabio next applied to the Signor +Andrea Morosini, whom he had benefited in former days in a thousand +ways.</p> + +<p>"My dear Fabio," answered Andrea, "to any one else but you I would +willingly lend this sum. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page259" id="page259">[Pg 259]</a></span> + +I have no affection for gold, and on this +point act according to the maxims of Horace the Satirist. But your +friendship is dear to me, Fabio Mutinelli, and I should be running the +risk of losing it, if I lent you money. For more often than not, the +commerce of the heart comes to a bad end betwixt debtor and creditor. I +have known but too many instances."</p> + +<p>So saying, the Signor Andrea kissed the Merchant with all seeming +tenderness, and shut the door in his face.</p> + +<p>Next day, Fabio went to see the Lombard and Florentine bankers. But not +one of them would agree to lend him so much as twenty ducats without +security. All day long he hurried from one counting-house to another, +but was everywhere met by much the same answer:</p> + +<p>"Signor Fabio, we all know you well for the most upright merchant of +this city, and it is with regret we must refuse you what you ask. But +the morality of trade requires it."</p> + +<p>That evening, as he was making sadly for home, the courtesan Zanetta, +who was bathing in the canal, hung on to his gondola and gazed amorously +into his eyes. In the days of his prosperity he had had her one night +into his Palace and had treated her very kindly, for he was of a gay and +gracious humour. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page260" id="page260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sweet Signor Fabio," she said to him, "I am aware of your misfortunes; +they are the talk of all the town. Hear me; I am not rich, but I have +some jewels at the bottom of a little coffer. An you will accept them of +a poor girl that would serve you, I shall know God and the Virgin love +me."</p> + +<p>And it was a true word, that in the prime of her youth and fine flower +of her beauty, the fair Zanetta was poor. Fabio answered her:</p> + +<p>"Kind Zanetta, there is more nobility in the hovel where you dwell than +in all the Palaces of Venice."</p> + +<p>For three days longer Fabio visited the banks and fondacos without +discovering any one willing to lend him money. Everywhere he received an +unfavourable answer, and listened to speeches that always came to this:</p> + +<p>"You did very wrong to sell your plate to pay your debts. Money is lent +to a man in debt, but not to one without furniture and plate."</p> + +<p>The fifth day he made his way, in despair, as far as the Corte delle +Galli, which men also call the Ghetto, and which is the quarter the Jews +inhabit.</p> + +<p>"Who knows," he kept saying to himself, "if I may not get from one of +the Circumcised what the Christians have denied me?"</p> + +<p>He proceeded therefore between the Calle San + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page261" id="page261">[Pg 261]</a></span> + +Geremia and the Calle San +Girolamo along a narrow evil-smelling canal, the entrance of which was +barred with chains every night, by order of the Senate. While hesitating +to know which Usurer he should first apply to, he remembered to have +heard speak of an Israelite named Eliezer, son of Eliezer Maimonides, +who was said to be exceedingly rich and of a wondrous subtle spirit. +Accordingly, inquiring out the house of the Jew Eliezer, he stopped his +gondola before the door. Above the entrance was seen a representation of +the seven-branched candlestick, which the Jew had had carved as a sign +of hope, in expectation of the promised days when the Temple should rise +again from its ashes.</p> + +<p>The Merchant now entered a hall lighted by a copper lamp with twelve +wicks that were burning smokily. Eliezer the Jew was there, seated +before his scales. The windows of the house were walled up, because he +was an Unbeliever.</p> + +<p>Fabio Mutinelli approached and thus accosted him:</p> + +<p>"Eliezer, over and over again have I called you dog and renegade +heathen. There have been times, when I was younger and in the flush of +early manhood, I have cast stones and mud at folks going along the Canal +who wore the round patch of yellow sewn on their shoulder, so that + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page262" id="page262">[Pg 262]</a></span> + +I +may likely have struck one of your friends or perhaps yourself. I tell +you this, not to affront you, but out of fairness, at the same instant I +come to ask you to do me a very great service."</p> + +<p>The Jew lifted his arm, which was as dry and gnarled as an ancient +vine-stock:</p> + +<p>"Fabio Mutinelli, the Father which is in Heaven shall judge us, one and +the other. What is the service you are come to ask of me?"</p> + +<p>"Lend me five hundred ducats for a year."</p> + +<p>"Men do not lend without security. Doubtless you have learned this from +your own people. What is the security you offer?"</p> + +<p>"You must know, Eliezer, I have not a denier left, not one gold cup, not +one silver goblet. Neither have I a friend left. One and all, they have +refused to do me the service I ask of you. I have nothing in all the +world but my honour as a merchant and my faith as a Christian. I offer +you for security the holy Virgin Mary and her Divine Son."</p> + +<p>At this reply, the Jew, bending down his head as a man does to ponder +and consider, stroked his long white beard for a while. Presently he +looked up and said:</p> + +<p>"Fabio Mutinelli, take me to see this security you offer. For it is meet +the lender be put in presence of the pledge proposed for his +acceptance." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page263" id="page263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You are within your rights," returned the Merchant, "rise therefore and +come."</p> + +<p>So saying, he led Eliezer to the Chiesa dell' Orto, near the spot called +the <i>Field of the Moors</i>. Arrived there and pointing to the figure of +the Madonna, which stood above the High Altar, the brow wreathed with a +circlet of precious stones and the shoulders covered with a +gold-broidered mantle, holding in her arms the Child Jesus sumptuously +adorned like his mother, the Merchant said to the Jew:</p> + +<p>"Yonder is my security."</p> + +<p>Eliezer looked with a keen eye and a calculating air first at the +Christian Merchant, then at the Madonna and Child; then presently bowed +his head in assent and said he would accept the pledge offered. He +returned with Fabio to his own house, and there handed him the five +hundred ducats, well and truly weighed:</p> + +<p>"The money is yours for a year. If at the end of that time, to the day, +you have not paid me back the sum with interest at the rate fixed by the +law of Venice and the custom of the Lombards, you can picture yourself, +Fabio Mutinelli, what I shall think of the Christian Merchant and his +security."</p> + +<p>Fabio, without a moment's loss of time, bought ships and loaded up with +salt and other sorts of merchandise, which he disposed of in the cities +of + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page264" id="page264">[Pg 264]</a></span> + +the Adriatic shore to great advantage. Then, with a fresh cargo +aboard, he set sail for Constantinople, where he bought carpets, +perfumes, peacock feathers, ivory and ebony. These goods his agents +exchanged along the coasts of Dalmatia for building timber, which the +Venetians had contracted for from him in advance. By these means, in six +months' time, he had multiplied tenfold the amount the Jew had lent him.</p> + +<p>But one day that he was taking his diversion with some Greek women, +aboard his vessel, which lay in the Bosphorus, having put out too far to +sea, he was captured by pirates and carried prisoner to Egypt, though, +by rare good fortune, his gold and merchandise were in a safe place all +the while. The pirates sold him to a Saracen lord, who putting him in +fetters, sent him afield to till the wheat, which grows very finely in +that country. Fabio offered his master to pay a heavy ransom, but the +Paynim's daughter, who loved him and was fain to bring him to the end +she desired, over-persuaded her father not to let him go at any price. +Reduced to the necessity of trusting to himself alone for release, he +filed his irons with the tools given him for tilling the ground, made +good his escape to the Nile and threw himself into a boat. Casting +loose, he got to the sea, which was not far off, and when on the point +of death from thirst and hunger, was + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page265" id="page265">[Pg 265]</a></span> + +rescued by a Spanish vessel bound +for Genoa. But, after keeping her course a week, the ship was caught in +a storm which drove her on the coast of Dalmatia. In making the shore, +she was wrecked on a reef. All the crew were drowned except Fabio, who +reached the beach after much difficulty, clinging to a hen-coop. There +he lay senseless, but was presently succoured by a handsome widow, named +Loreta, whose house was upon the seashore. She had him carried to it, +put him to bed in her own chamber, watched over him and lavished every +care for his recovery.</p> + +<p>On coming to himself, he smelt the perfume of myrtles and roses, and +looking out of window saw a garden that descended in successive +declivities to the sea. Signora Loreta, standing at his bed's head, took +up her viol and began playing a tender air.</p> + +<p>Fabio, ravished with gratitude and pleasure, fell to kissing the lady's +hands a thousand times over. He thanked her earnestly, assuring her he +was less touched by the saving of his life than by the fact of his owing +his recovery to the pains of so fair a benefactress.</p> + +<p>Presently he rose and went to walk with her in the garden, and sitting +down to rest in a thicket of myrtles, he drew the young widow on his +knee and manifested his gratitude by a thousand caresses. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page266" id="page266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> + +<p>He found her not insensible to his efforts and spent some hours by her +side drowned in amorous delight. But soon he grew pensive, and suddenly +asked his hostess what month they were in, and what day of the month +precisely it then was.</p> + +<p>And when she told him, he fell to groaning and lamenting sore, finding +it lacked but twenty-four short hours of a full year since he had +received the five hundred ducats of Eliezer the Jew. The thought of +breaking his promise and exposing his pledge to the reproaches of the +Circumcised was intolerable to him. Signora Loreta inquiring the reason +of his despair, he told her the whole story; and being a very pious +woman and an ardent votress of the Holy Mother of God, she shared his +chagrin to the full. The difficulty was not to procure the five hundred +ducats; a Banker in a neighbouring town had had such a sum in his hands +for the last six months at Fabio's disposition. But to travel from the +coast of Dalmatia to Venice in four-and-twenty hours, with a broken sea +and contrary winds, was a thing beyond all hope.</p> + +<p>"Let us have the money ready to begin with," said Fabio.</p> + +<p>And when one of his hostess's serving-men had brought the sum, the noble +Merchant ordered a vessel to be brought close in to the shore. In her + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page267" id="page267">[Pg 267]</a></span> + +he laid the bags containing the ducats, then went to the Signora +Loreta's Oratory in search of an image of the Virgin with the Infant +Jesus—an image of cedar-wood and greatly revered. This he set in the +little bark, near the rudder, and addressed in these words:</p> + +<p>"Madonna, you are my pledge. Now the Jew Eliezer must needs be paid +to-morrow; 'tis a question of mine honour and of yours, Madonna, and of +your Son's good name. What a mortal sinner, such as I, cannot do, you +will assuredly accomplish, unsullied Star of the Sea, you whose bosom +suckled Him who walked upon the waters. Bear this silver to Eliezer the +Jew, in the Ghetto at Venice, to the end the Circumcised may never say +you are a bad surety."</p> + +<p>And pushing the bark afloat, he doffed his hat and cried softly:</p> + +<p>"Farewell, Madonna! farewell!"</p> + +<p>The vessel sailed out to sea, and long the merchant and the widow +followed it with their eyes. When night began to close in, a furrow of +light was seen marking her wake over the waters, which were fallen to a +dead calm.</p> + +<p>At Venice next morning Eliezer, on opening his door, saw a bark in the +narrow canal of the Ghetto laden with full sacks and manned by a little +figure of black wood, flashing in the clear morning sunbeams. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page268" id="page268">[Pg 268]</a></span> + +The +vessel stopped before the house where the seven-branched candlestick was +carved; and the Jew recognized the Virgin Mary with the infant Jesus, +pledge of the Christian Merchant.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_16" id="Footnote_1_16"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_16"><span class="label">1</span></a> +"... By this image I take Jesus Christ in pledge for you, +Him who wrought all men's salvation, as is writ in Scripture: He is +pledge against all your fortune; so good a pledge can no man have." +(<i>Miracles of Our Lady, as they Fell out to Sundry</i>—G. Paris and U. +Robert.)</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page269" id="page269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> + +<h2>HISTORY OF DOÑA MARIA D'AVALOS AND DON FABRICIO, DUKE D'ANDRIA</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page270" id="page270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> + +<h3>TO HENRY GAUTHIER-VILLARS</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page271" id="page271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>HISTORY OF DOÑA MARIA D'AVALOS AND DON FABRICIO, DUKE D'ANDRIA</h4> + + +<p class="blockquot" style="margin-left: 15em"><i>Done Marie d'Avalos, l'une des belles princesses du païs, mariée<br /> +avec le prince de Venouse, laquelle s'estant enamourachée du<br /> +comte d'Andriane, l'un des beaux princes du païs aussy, et<br /> +s'estans tous deux concertez à la jouissance et le mari l'ayant<br /> +descouverte ... les fit tous deux massacrer par gens appostez;<br /> +si que le lendemain on trouva ces deux belles moictiez et créatures<br /> +exposées et tendues sur le pavé devant la porte de la maison,<br /> +toutes mortes et froides, à la veue de tous les passants, qui<br /> +les larmoyoient et plaignoient de leur misérable estat.</i><a name="FNanchor_1_17" id="FNanchor_1_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_17" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 40em">(Pierre de Bourdeilles, abbé et<br /> +Seigneur de Brantôme.<br /> +<i>Recueil des dames, seconde partie</i>.)</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page272" id="page272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a day of high rejoicing at Naples, when the Prince of Venosa, a +rich and puissant Lord, was wed to Doña Maria, of the illustrious house +of Avalos.</p> + +<p>Drawn by horses bedizened with scales, feathers or furs, in such wise as +to figure forth dragons, griffins, lions, lynxes, panthers and unicorns, +were twelve cars which did bear through all the city an host of naked +men and women, gilded all over, for to represent the Gods of Olympus, +come down to Earth to do honour to the Venosian nuptials. On one of +these cars was to be seen a young lad with wings treading underfoot +three old hags of an hideous ugliness. A tablet was fixed up above the +car to display the meaning thereof, to wit: LOVE VANQUISHETH THE FATAL +SISTERS. Whereby 'twas to be understood that the new-wedded pair would +enjoy many a long year of happiness by each other's side.</p> + +<p>But this presage of Love, more strong than the Fates, was false withal. +Two years after her marriage, one day she was gone abroad a-fowling, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page273" id="page273">[Pg 273]</a></span> + +Doña Maria d'Avalos saw the Duke d'Andria, which was a gallant, +handsome and well-knit man, and did straight love the same. An honest +girl and a well-born, heedful of her noble name and still in that callow +youth when women have not gotten boldness yet to match their naughty +desires, she sent no go-between to the nobleman for to make assignation +in Church or at her own abode. She never told her love, but did bide the +time when her good star should bring beside her him which had grown in +the twinkling of an eye more dear to her than the day. She had not to +tarry long. For the Duke d'Andria had noted her beauty, and went +straightway to pay his court to the Prince of Venosa. Encountering Doña +Maria in the Palace with no other by, he did beseech her in right +gentle, and withal gallant and masterful wise, that very favour she was +herself well disposed and well resolved to grant him. She did lead him +to her chamber instantly, and did there refuse him naught of all he was +fain to have of her.</p> + +<p>But when he did proffer her his thanks for that she had graciously +yielded to his desires, she made answer:</p> + +<p>"My Lord, the desire was mine own more than it was yours. I, it was, was +fain we should lie in the arms one of the other, as we be now laid, in + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page274" id="page274">[Pg 274]</a></span> + +this bed, to the which I will aye make you dearly welcome, as oft as it +shall please you to come thither."</p> + +<p>Every time she was able so to do, from that day forth Doña Maria +d'Avalos would receive in her chamber the Duke d'Andria and this was +many a time and oft, for the Prince of Venosa went much to the chase and +would sometimes spend whole weeks together diverting him with his +friends in one of his pleasure houses he had in the country parts.</p> + +<p>The whole while that Doña Maria was abed with her lover, her nurse Lucia +would stand a-watching at the chamber door, telling of her beads and +trembling sore lest the Prince perchance should return home against all +expectation.</p> + +<p>'Twas indeed a nobleman mightily feared by reason of his jealous and +grim humour. His enemies did reproach him for his cunning and cruelty, +naming him mongrel cur of fox and she-wolf, stinking hound, if ever +stinking hound was. But his friends would commend him, for that he kept +ever in sure memory whatsoever of right or wrong folk did him, and would +in no wise suffer patiently any injury wrought him or his.</p> + +<p>During the space of three full months which were now gone by the lovers +had great joy of each other and content of their desires without or +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page275" id="page275">[Pg 275]</a></span> + +let +or hindrance, when one morning the Nurse came to seek Doña Maria in her +chamber, and spake thus to her:</p> + +<p>"Listen, my pearl of pearls; albeit my words this day will be neither of +flowers nor sugar-plums, but of a right serious and fearsome matter. My +Lord the Prince of Venosa hath heard some ill report concerning you and +the Duke d'Andria.</p> + +<p>"But now I saw him in the Palace court, as he was a-mounting his horse. +He was gnawing his moustache—a fell sign with him. He was in talk with +two fellows, which had little of the air about them of leading honest +lives; all I heard him tell them was, 'See ye, without being seen!' Of +such sort the orders the noble Prince was charging them withal. And the +worst is, he did stop dead whenas he set eyes on me. My own little pearl +of price, so true as God is in the Holy Sacrament, an if the Prince find +you with the Lord Duke d'Andria, he will kill both the twain of you. You +will be a dead woman; and ah! me, what will become of me?"</p> + +<p>The Nurse spake on in this wise and besought her mistress long and sore; +but Doña Maria d'Avalos did send her away without deigning so much as +one word of answer.</p> + +<p>As it was Springtide she went forth that same day a-walking in the +country with some ladies of + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page276" id="page276">[Pg 276]</a></span> + +the city. They were following a path +bordered with thorn-trees all a-bloom, when one of the ladies said thus +to her:</p> + +<p>"Dogs will sometimes come and stick at travellers' heels, Doña Maria. +Well! look, to-day we be dogged by a great black and white hound!"</p> + +<p>And the Princess, turning her head to see, did recognize a certain +Dominican monk which was used to come each day to the courtyard of the +Palazzo Venosa for to rest in the shade there, and in winter-time to +warm him in the great kitchen.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the Nurse, seeing her lady mistress paid no heed to her words, +ran to warn the Duke d'Andria. Moreover the said Duke had reasons of his +own to fear the sweet secret of his loves had been unhappily discovered. +The very evening afore, finding himself followed by a pair of ruffians +armed with arquebuses, he had killed one of the twain with a +sword-thrust, whiles the other had taken to his heels. The Duke felt no +doubt now but these two rascals had been set at him by the Prince of +Venosa.</p> + +<p>"Lucia," he said to the Nurse, "I must needs shudder at this danger, +seeing it doth threaten my Lady Maria d'Avalos no less than myself. Tell +her I will not return again to her chamber, cost me what regrets it +will, before that the Prince's suspicions be lulled asleep." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page277" id="page277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> + +<p>These words the Nurse did report the same evening to Doña Maria, which +did hearken to them with impatience, biting her lip till the blood came.</p> + +<p>Learning that the Prince was at the moment abroad, she bade her Nurse go +straight to fetch the Duke d'Andria, and bring him into her chamber; and +so soon as he was come spake thus to him:</p> + +<p>"My gracious Lord, a day spent apart from you is to me the cruellest of +torments. I shall not fear to die; but I have not the fortitude to +endure your absence. You should not have loved me, if you had not the +hardihood to brave all for love of me. You should not have loved me if +there were aught else in all the world you set above my love, even mine +own honour and mine own life. Choose; either you shall see me every day +as aforetime, or you shall never see me more."</p> + +<p>He made answer:</p> + +<p>"Well and good then, Lady, and so be it; for, indeed, there is no room +for ill or evil henceforth betwixt us twain! Verily I do love you as you +would have me love you, even more than your own life."</p> + +<p>And that day, which was a Thursday, they did tarry a long time, close +pressed one against the other. Naught of moment fell out ere the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page278" id="page278">[Pg 278]</a></span> + +Monday +of the next week, on the which day the Prince did apprise his wife how +that he was setting forth with a numerous train for Rome, whither he was +called by the Pope, which was his kinsman. And in very deed a score of +horses were then standing ready saddled and bridled in the Great Court. +Then did the Prince kiss his wife's hand, as he was used to do on taking +leave of her for any lengthy absence. Last of all, when he was now +a-horseback, he did turn his face to her and say:</p> + +<p>"God have you in His keeping, Doña Maria!" and so rode forth with his +company behind him.</p> + +<p>Soon as ever she thought her husband's troop to be gotten forth of the +walls, the Princess bade her Nurse summon the Duke d'Andria to her. The +old woman besought her to defer a meeting that might easily be cause of +such sore calamity.</p> + +<p>"My dove," she cried, falling on her knees, her hands uplifted in +supplication, "receive not the Duke to-day! All night long I heard the +Prince's men grinding swords. Yet another thing, my flower of flowers, +the good brother that cometh day by day to our kitchen to seek his dole +of bread, hath but now overset a salt-cellar of salt with the sleeve of +his gown. Give your lover a little repose, little one. Your pleasure +will be all the greater to have him again presently, and he will love +you all the better for the respite." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page279" id="page279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Doña Maria d'Avalos said:</p> + +<p>"Nurse, an if he be not here in one quarter of an hour, I will send you +back home to your brethren in the mountains."</p> + +<p>And when the Duke d'Andria was by her side she did welcome him with an +exceeding great joy.</p> + +<p>"My Lord," cried she, "this will be a good day for us, and the night +better still. I shall keep you till the dawn."</p> + +<p>And straightway did they exchange betwixt them an host of kisses and +fond caresses. Presently, after doffing their clothes, they gat them to +bed, and held each the other close embraced so long that evening found +them yet pressed in each other's arms. Then, for that they were sore +hungered, Doña Maria drew forth of her marriage chest a pasty, dried +conserves, and a flask of wine, the which she had been heedful to lay by +therein.</p> + +<p>After the twain had eaten and drunk their fill, playing the while all +sorts of pretty plays, the moon rose and did look in so friendly at the +window that they were fain to wish her welcome. So they went forth upon +the balcony, and there, breathing the freshness and softness of the +night, did watch the fireflies dancing in the dark bushes. All were +still save only the shrilling of the insects in the grass. Then there +came a sound of footsteps along the street, and Doña Maria did + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page280" id="page280">[Pg 280]</a></span> + +recognize the poor monk which was wont to haunt the kitchen and the +Palace courtyards, the same she had encountered one day in the flowery +path where she was a-walking with two ladies—her companions. She shut +to the window softly, and to bed again with her lover. 'Twas deep in the +night, and they were lying so, kissing and murmuring the softest +nothings ever were inspired by Love, whether at Naples or any other spot +in all the wide world, when of a sudden they caught a noise of steps +mounting the stairway and the rattle of arms; at the same time they +beheld a red glow shining through the chinks of the door. And they heard +the Nurse's voice shrieking, "Jesu Maria! I am a dead woman." The Duke +d'Andria sprang up, leapt upon his sword, and cried:</p> + +<p>"Up, Doña Maria! We must leap forth by the window."</p> + +<p>But, rushing to the balcony and leaning out, he saw how the street was +guarded and all bristling with pikes.</p> + +<p>Thereupon he came back to Doña Maria, which said:</p> + +<p>"'Tis the end of all! But know this, I do not regret aught of what I +have done, my dear, dear Lord!"</p> + +<p>And he made answer: + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page281" id="page281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well and good then, and so be it!" and did haste to don his trunks.</p> + +<p>Cracking and crunching under the mighty blows struck by them outside, +the door was meantime a-trembling, and the panels began to gape.</p> + +<p>He spake again and said:</p> + +<p>"Fain would I know who hath betrayed and sold us thus."</p> + +<p>At the instant he was seeking his shoon, the one half of the door gave +way, and a troop of men, bearing arms and torches, threw themselves into +the chamber. The Prince of Venosa was in their midst, shouting: "Have at +the traitor! Kill! Kill!"</p> + +<p>Lustily did three swordsmen attack the Duke, but he set him in front of +the bed, where was Doña Maria, and made valiant stand against the +caitiffs.</p> + +<p>Six men were there in all, led on by the Prince, being of his bosom +friends every one or his own varlets. Albeit blinded by the dazzle of +the torches, the Duke d'Andria did contrive to parry several thrusts, +and gave back some shrewd blows himself. But catching his foot in the +platters lying on the floor, with the remains of the pasty and +conserves, he fell over backward. Finding himself on his back, a sword's +point at his throat, he did seize the blade in his left hand; the man, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page282" id="page282">[Pg 282]</a></span> + +snatching it back, cut off three of his fingers, and the sword was bent. +Then, as the Duke d'Andria was heaving forward his shoulders to rise, +one of the fellows struck him a blow over the head which did break in +the bones of his skull. At this all six did hurl them upon him, and slew +him, lunging with such savage haste they did wound each other.</p> + +<p>Whenas the thing was done, the Prince of Venosa bade them stand quietly +aside; and marching upon Doña Maria, which till now had tarried still +beside the bed, he drave her before his sword's point into the corner of +the chamber where was the marriage chest. And there, holding her at bay, +he did hiss in her face one word:</p> + +<p>"<i>Puttana</i>!" (Harlot!)</p> + +<p>Shamed by reason of her nakedness, she went to drag to her some of the +bedclothes, which were hanging over the bedside. But he stayed her with +a thrust of his sword, which did graze her white side.</p> + +<p>Then, leaning against the wall, hands and arms held up to veil her eyes, +she stood waiting.</p> + +<p>The other never left off crying:</p> + +<p>"<i>Puttaccia! Puttaccia!</i>" (Whore! Whore!)</p> + +<p>Then, forasmuch as he did yet tarry, and slew her not, she was afraid. +He saw that she was afraid, and said gleefully:</p> + +<p>"You are afraid!" + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page283" id="page283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> + +<p>But pointing her finger at the dead body of the Duke d'Andria, she made +answer:</p> + +<p>"Fool! what think you I can have to fear now?"</p> + +<p>And, to make a seeming of being no more terrified, she sought to recall +a song-tune she had sung many a time as a girl, and began humming the +same, or rather hissing it, betwixt her teeth.</p> + +<p>The Prince, furious to see how she defied him, did now prick her with +his point in the belly, crying out:</p> + +<p>"<i>Ah! Sporca-puttaccia</i>!" (Fie! Filthy trull!) Exultant, she stayed her +singing, and said:</p> + +<p>"Sir, 'tis two years sithence I have been to confession."</p> + +<p>At this word the Prince of Venosa bethought him how that, an if she died +and were damned, she might return by night and drag him down to Hell +along with her. He asked her:</p> + +<p>"Will you not have a Confessor?"</p> + +<p>She did ponder an instant, then shaking her head:</p> + +<p>"'Tis useless. I cannot save my soul. I repent me not. I cannot, and I +will not, repent. I love him! I love him! Let me die in his arms."</p> + +<p>With a quick movement, she did thrust the sword aside, threw her on the +bleeding corse of the Duke d'Andria, and lay clipping her dead lover in +her arms. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page284" id="page284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p> + +<p>Seeing her so, the Prince of Venosa did lose what patience he had kept +till then, to the end he might not kill her ere he had made her suffer. +He drave his blade through her body. She cried, "Jesu!" rolled over, +sprang to her feet, and after a little shudder that shook her every +limb, fell to the floor dead.</p> + +<p>He struck her several blows more in the belly and bosom; then said to +his varlets:</p> + +<p>"Go throw these two pieces of carrion at the foot of the Great +Staircase, and open wide the Palace doors, that men may note my +vengeance at the same time as the insult done mine honour."</p> + +<p>He bade strip the lover's corse bare like the other.</p> + +<p>The men did as they were bidden. And all the day the bodies of the Duke +d'Andria and Doña Maria lay naked at the bottom of the steps. The +passers-by drew near to see them. And the news of the bloody deed being +spread about the city, a great press of curious onlookers came crowding +before the Palace. Some said, "Lo! a good deed well done!" Others, and +these the more part, at sight of so lamentable a spectacle, were filled +with ruth. Yet durst they not openly commiserate the Prince's victims, +for fear of evil handling by his armed dependents, which were set to +guard the bodies. Young men gazed at the Princess's corse, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page285" id="page285">[Pg 285]</a></span> + + for to +discover the traces of that beauty which had been her undoing, while the +little children would be expounding one to the other the meaning of that +they saw.</p> + +<p>Doña Maria lay stretched on her back. The lips were drawn back, +displaying the teeth in a ghastly smile. Her eyes stood wide open, the +whites only showing. Six wounds were upon her, three in the belly, which +was greatly swollen, two in the bosom, one in the neck. The last had +bled profusely, and the dogs kept fawning up to lick it.</p> + +<p>Towards nightfall, the Prince bade set torches of resin, like as on days +of festival, in the bronze rings fixed in the Palace walls, and eke +kindle great fires in the Courtyard, to the end all men might see the +criminals plain. At midnight, a pious widow brought coverings and spread +the same over the dead bodies. But, by the Prince's commandment, these +were incontinent torn away again.</p> + +<p>The Ambassador of Spain informed of the unseemly treatment meted to a +lady of the Spanish house of Avalos, came in person urgently to entreat +the Prince of Venosa to stay these outrages, which did insult the noble +memory of the Duke de Pescara, uncle to Doña Maria, and offend in their +tomb so many great Captains of whose blood the said lady was descended. +But he with + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page286" id="page286">[Pg 286]</a></span> + +drew after profiting naught by his intercession; and writ a +letter thereanent to his Catholic Majesty. The poor bodies were left +shamefully exposed as before. Toward the latter end of the night, the +curious having ceased to come any more, the guards were withdrawn.</p> + +<p>Then a Dominican monk, which had all the day lurked about the great +doors, did slip within the vestibule by the smoky light of the dying +torches, crept to the steps where Doña Maria lay, and threw himself on +her corse.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_17" id="Footnote_1_17"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_17"><span class="label">1</span></a> +"Doña Maria d'Avalos, one of the fair Princesses of the +land, and married to the Prince of Venosa, was enamoured of the Count +d'Andriane, likewise one of the noble Princes of the country. So being +both of them come together to enjoy their passion, and the husband +having discovered it ... had the twain of them slain by men appointed +thereto. In such wise that next morning the fair and noble pair, unhappy +beings, were seen lying stretched out and exposed to public view on the +pavement in front of the house door, all dead and cold, in sight of all +passers-by, who could not but weep and lament over their piteous lot."</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page287" id="page287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + +<h2>BONAPARTE AT SAN MINIATO</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page288" id="page288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> + +<h3>TO ARMAND GENEST</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page289" id="page289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>BONAPARTE AT SAN MINIATO</h4> + +<p class="blockquot" style="margin-left: 20em"> +<i>Quand, simple citoyen, soldat d'un peuple libre,<br /> +Aux bords de l'Éridan, de l'Adige et du Tibre,<br /> +Foudroyant tour à tour quelques tyrans pervers,<br /> +Des nations en pleurs, sa main brisait les fers....</i></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 40em">(Marie-Joseph Chénier, <i>La Promenade</i>.)<a name="FNanchor_1_18" id="FNanchor_1_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_18" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +<i>Napoléon, après son expédition de Livourne, se rendant à +Florence, coùcha à San Miniato chez un vieil abbé Buonaparte....</i></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 42em">(<i>Mémorial de Saint-Hélène</i>, par le<br /> +comte de Las Cases, réimpression<br /> +de 1823, 1824, t. I'er, p. 149.)<a name="FNanchor_2_19" id="FNanchor_2_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_19" class="fnanchor">2</a><br /> +</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +<i>"Je fus sur le soir à San Miniato. J'y avais un vieux +chanoine de parent...."</i></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 40em">(<i>Mémoires du docteur F. Antommarchi,<br /> +sur les derniers moments de<br /> +Napoléon</i> 1825, t. I'er p. 155.)<a name="FNanchor_3_20" id="FNanchor_3_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_20" class="fnanchor">3</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page290" id="page290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + +<p><img src="images/a.jpg" align="left" height="100px" width="92px" alt="A" title="A" />fter occupying Leghorn and closing that port against the English +men-of-war, General Bonaparte proceeded to Florence to visit the Grand +Duke of Tuscany, Ferdinand, who alone of all the princes of Europe had +honestly and honourably fulfilled his engagements with the French +Republic. In token of esteem and confidence, he went there without +escort, accompanied only by the officers of his Staff. Amongst other +sights he was shown the arms of the Buonapartes carved over the gateway +of an old house. He was already aware that a branch of his family had +been fruitful and multiplied at Florence in days of yore, and that a +last descendant of this the ancient race was still alive. This was a +certain Canon of San Miniato, now eighty years of age. In spite of all +the pressing affairs he had to attend to, he made a point of paying him +a visit. Napoleon Bonaparte was always strongly moved by feelings of +natural affection.</p> + +<p>On the eve of his departure from Florence, he made his way with some of +his officers to the hill of San Miniato, which crowned with its walls +and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page291" id="page291">[Pg 291]</a></span> + +towers, rises from the plain at half a league's distance from the +city.</p> + +<p>Old Canon Buonaparte welcomed with agreeable and dignified politeness +his young kinsman and the French officers who accompanied him—Berthier, +Junot, Orderly Officer in Chief Chauvet and Lieutenant Thézard. He +regaled them with a supper <i>à l'italienne</i>, which lacked neither the +cranes of Peretola nor the little sucking-pig scented with aromatic +herbs, nor the best vintages of Tuscany, Naples and Sicily. +Uncompromising Republicans as Brutus himself, they drank to France and +Freedom. Their host acknowledged the toast; then turning to the General +whom he had seated on his right hand;</p> + +<p>"Nephew!" said he, "are you not curious to examine the genealogical tree +painted on the wall yonder? You will be gratified to see from it that we +are descended from the Lombard Cadolingians, who from the tenth to the +twelfth centuries covered themselves with glory by their fidelity to the +German Emperors, and from whom sprung, prior to the year 1100, the +Buonapartes of Treviso and the Buonapartes of Florence, the latter stock +proving by far the more illustrious."</p> + +<p>At this the officers began to whisper together and laugh. Orderly +Officer Chauvet asked Berthier behind his hand if the Republican General +felt + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page292" id="page292">[Pg 292]</a></span> + +flattered to possess amongst his ancestors a lot of slaves serving +the Two-headed Eagle, while Lieutenant Thézard was ready to take his +oath the General owed his birth to good <i>sans-culottes</i> and nobody else. +Meanwhile the Canon went on with a long string of boasts concerning the +nobility of his house and lineage.</p> + +<p>"Know this, nephew," he finished by saying, "our Florentine ancestors +well deserved their name. They were ever of the <i>bon parti</i>, and +steadfast defenders of Mother Church."</p> + +<p>At these words, which the old fellow had uttered in a high, clear voice, +the General, who so far had been scarcely listening, gathered his +wandering wits together, and raising his pale, thin face, with its +classically moulded features, threw a piercing look at his interlocutor, +which closed his lips instantly.</p> + +<p>"Nay! uncle," he cried, "let us have done with these follies! the rats +of your garret are very welcome to these moth-eaten parchments for me."</p> + +<p>Then he added in a voice of brass:</p> + +<p>"The only nobility I vaunt is in my deeds. It dates from the 13th +Vendémiaire of Year IV, the day I swept the Royalist Sections with +cannon-shot from the steps of St. Roch. Come, let us drink to the +Republic! 'Tis the arrow of Evander, which falls not to earth again, and +is transformed into a star!" + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page293" id="page293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> + +<p>The officers answered the appeal with a shout of enthusiasm. It was a +moment when Berthier himself felt a Republican's and a Patriot's fire.</p> + +<p>Junot exclaimed: "Napoleon had no need for ancestors; 'twas enough for +him his soldiers had acclaimed him Corporal at the Bridge of Lodi."</p> + +<p>The wines had the dry smack of gunflint and the bouquet of powder, and +the company imbibed freely. Lieutenant Thézard was soon in a condition +that rendered him incapable of concealing his sentiments. Proud of the +wounds and the kisses of women he had enjoyed in lavish abundance in +this campaign, at once so heroic and so gallant and gay, he informed the +Canon without more ado, that following in the steps of Bonaparte, the +French were going to march round the world, upsetting Thrones and Altars +in every land, giving the girls bastards and ripping up the bellies of +all fanatics.</p> + +<p>The old Priest only went on smiling, and replied he was willing enough +to sacrifice to their noble rage, not indeed the pretty girls, whom he +besought them rather to treat cannily, but the Fanatics, the chiefest +foes, he said, of Holy Church.</p> + +<p>Junot promised him to deal leniently with the Nuns; he could heartily +commend some of them, having found them to possess tender hearts and the +whitest of skins.</p> + +<p>Orderly Officer Chauvet maintained we should + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page294" id="page294">[Pg 294]</a></span> + +take account of the +influence exercised by the cloistered life on the complexion of young +women; you see, he was a student of natural philosophy.</p> + +<p>"Between Genoa and Milan," he went on, "we tasted largely of this sort +of forbidden fruit. One may profess to be without prejudices; still, a +pretty bosom does look prettier half hid by the Veil. I set no value on +religious vows, yet I am free to confess I attach a very special value +to a fine leg if it belongs to a Nun. Strange contradictions of the +human heart!"</p> + +<p>"Fie! fie!" put in Berthier; "what pleasure can you find in upsetting +the wits and troubling the senses of these unhappy victims of +fanaticism? What! are there no women of condition in Italy, to whom you +could offer your vows at fêtes, under the Venetian cloak that favours +little intrigues so admirably? Is it nothing that Pietra Grua Mariani, +Madame Lambert, Signora Monti, Signora Gherardi of Brescia, are fair and +gallant dames?"</p> + +<p>As he ran over the names of these Italian toasts, he was thinking of the +Princess Visconti. This great lady, finding herself unable to enthral +Bonaparte, had given herself to his Chief of the Staff, whom she loved +with a fire of wantonness and a refined sensuality which left their mark +on the weak-kneed Berthier for the rest of his days.</p> + +<p>"For my own part," interrupted Lieutenant + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page295" id="page295">[Pg 295]</a></span> + +Thézard, "I shall never +forget a little water-melon seller on the steps of the Duomo, who...."</p> + +<p>The General rose from his chair with a gesture of impatience. A bare +three hours was left them for sleep, as they were to start at dawn.</p> + +<p>"Never trouble, kinsman, about our sleeping accommodation," he said, +addressing the Canon. "We are soldiers; a bundle of hay is good enough +for us."</p> + +<p>But their excellent host had had beds prepared. His house was bare and +unornamented, but of vast proportions. He conducted the French officers, +one after the other, to the rooms assigned them, and wished them a good +night.</p> + +<p>Left alone in his chamber, Bonaparte threw off his coat and sword, and +proceeded to scrawl a pencil note to Josephine—twenty illegible lines, +in which his violent, yet calculating, spirit spoke loudly. Then, +folding the letter, he abruptly drove the woman's image from his mind, +as you push-to a drawer. He unrolled a plan of Mantua, and selected the +point on which he should concentrate his fire.</p> + +<p>He was still absorbed in his calculations when he heard a knock at the +door. He thought it was Berthier; but it proved to be the Canon, who +came to ask him for a few minutes' conversation. Under his arm he +carried two or three parchment-covered + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page296" id="page296">[Pg 296]</a></span> + +portfolios. The General looked +at these documents with something of a quizzical air. He felt certain +they contained the genealogy of the Buonapartes, and anticipated their +leading to a never-ending talk. However, he suffered no trace of his +impatience to appear.</p> + +<p>He was never morose or angry but when he deliberately made up his mind +to be so. Now he had no sort of wish to offend his worthy kinsman; on +the contrary, he was anxious to make himself agreeable to him. Moreover, +he was not really sorry to learn the nobility of his race, now his +Jacobin officers were no longer there to laugh or take umbrage at the +matter. He begged the Canon to take a seat, who did so, and, laying his +registers on the table, said:</p> + +<p>"I made a beginning during supper, nephew, of telling you about the +Buonapartes of Florence; but I gathered by the look you gave me, it was +not then the place or time to enlarge on such a subject. I broke off +therefore, reserving the essential part of what I have to say for the +present moment. I beg of you, kinsman, to hear me with great attention.</p> + +<p>"The Tuscan branch of our family produced some excellent +representatives, among whom should be named Jacopo di Buonaparte, who +witnessed the sack of Rome in 1527 and wrote an + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page297" id="page297">[Pg 297]</a></span> + + account of that event, +also Niccolò, author of a Comedy entitled <i>La Vedova</i> that was declared +the work of another Terence. However, it is not of these two famous +ancestors I now wish to speak, but rather of a third, who eclipses them +as much in glory as the sun outshines the stars. Know then that your +family counts amongst its members a man of saintly life, deemed worthy +of Beatification and the title of blessed, Fra Bonaventura, disciple of +the reformed Order of St. Francis, who died in 1593 in the odour of +Sanctity."</p> + +<p>The old man bent his head reverently as he pronounced the name. Then he +resumed with a fire scarcely to have been expected from one of his years +and easy character:</p> + +<p>"Fra Bonaventura! Ah, kinsman! 'tis to him, to this good Father, you owe +the success of your arms. He was beside you, doubt it not, when you +annihilated, as you told us at supper, the enemies of your party on the +steps of St. Roch. This Capuchin Friar has been your helper 'mid the +smoke of battles. But for him, be assured, you would not have been +victorious, whether at Montenotte or Millesimo or Lodi. The marks of his +patronage are too striking and self-evident to be ignored, and in your +success I plainly discern a miracle of the good Fra Bonaventura. But +what is most important you should know, is this; the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page298" id="page298">[Pg 298]</a></span> + +holy man had a +purpose of his own in view when, giving you the advantage even over +Beaulieu himself, he led you from victory to victory to this antique +roof under which you rest to-night with an old man's blessing to keep +you. I am here for the very purpose of revealing his intentions to you. +Fra Bonaventura wished you should be informed of his merits, that you +should hear of his fasts and austerities and the whole year's silence he +once condemned himself to endure. He would have you touch his hair-shirt +and scourge, and his knees stiffened so at the altar-steps that he +walked bent double like the letter Z. For this it was he has brought you +into Italy, where he was for contriving you an opportunity of returning +him benefit for benefit. For you must know, good kinsman, if the Friar +has helped you greatly, in your turn, you can be of the greatest use to +him."</p> + +<p>With these words, the Canon laid his hands on the heavy portfolios that +loaded the table, and drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>Bonaparte said nothing, but waited quietly for the Canon to go on with +his remarks, which diverted him greatly. Never was any one easier to +amuse than Napoleon.</p> + +<p>After recovering breath, the old man resumed:</p> + +<p>"Why, yes! kinsman, you can be of the greatest use to Fra Bonaventura, +who in his + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page299" id="page299">[Pg 299]</a></span> + +present situation needs your help. He was beatified many +years ago, but is still waiting his admission to the Calendar of Saints. +He is thinking long, is the good Father Bonaventura. Yet what can I, a +poor Canon of San Miniato, do for him to secure him the honour he has +earned? His enrolment demands an outlay that goes far beyond my fortune +and even the resources of the Bishopric! Poor Canon! Poor Diocese! Poor +Duchy of Tuscany! Poor Italy! they are all poor together. It is you, +kinsman, must ask the Pope to recognize Fra Bonaventura's claim. He will +certainly grant you so much. His Holiness will never refuse, for your +sake, to add another Saint to the Calendar. Great honour will accrue to +yourself and your family, and the good Friar will always be ready to +afford you his patronage. Do you not realize the advantages of having a +Saint in the family?"</p> + +<p>And the Canon, pointing to the portfolios, urged the General to put them +in his valise and take them with him. Their contents consisted of the +memorial relating to the Canonization of the Blessed Friar Bonaventura, +together with documents in corroboration of his claim.</p> + +<p>"Promise me," he added, "that you will see to this matter, the most +important that can concern you." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page300" id="page300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bonaparte restrained his strong inclination to laugh.</p> + +<p>"I am unfortunately situated," he objected, "for undertaking a case for +Canonization. You are aware that the French Republic is taking measures +to exact compensation from the Court of Rome for the murder of her +Ambassador Bassville, foully assassinated."</p> + +<p>The Canon protested eagerly:</p> + +<p>"Corpo di Bacco! the Court of Rome will find excuses enough; all due +compensation will be accorded, and our kinsman will be placed on the +Calendar, never fear."</p> + +<p>"The negotiations are far from being concluded at present," replied the +Republican General. "The Roman Curia has yet to recognize the civil +constitution of the French clergy and to break up and abolish the +Inquisition, which is an offence to humanity and an unjustifiable +encroachment on the rights of Nations."</p> + +<p>The old man only smiled and said:</p> + +<p>"Mio caro figliuolo Napoleone, the Pope knows perfectly well folk must +both give and take. He will be reasonable, and yield a point where +necessary. He is for all time, long-suffering and a man of peace."</p> + +<p>Bonaparte pondered deeply awhile, as though a series of quite new ideas +were taking muster<span class='pagenum'> + +<a name="page301" id="page301">[Pg 301]</a></span> + +in his powerful brain. Then suddenly breaking +silence,</p> + +<p>"You do not realize," he said, "the spirit of the age. We are highly +irreligious in France; impiety is deeply rooted in our soil. You do not +know the progress achieved by the ideas of Montesquieu, Raynal and +Rousseau. Public worship is abolished; veneration is a thing of the +past. You must have seen this from the scandalous talk my officers +indulged in just now at your own table."</p> + +<p>The good Canon shook his head:</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes! those fine young men, they are wild fellows enough, dissipated +and reckless! It is only a passing phase. Ten years more, and they will +be thinking less of the girls and more of going to Mass. The Carnival is +a matter of a few days, and even this mad one of your French Revolution +will not last for long. The Church is eternal."</p> + +<p>Napoleon declared bluntly he cared too little about Religion himself to +meddle in a purely ecclesiastical matter like this.</p> + +<p>Thereupon the Canon looked him in the eyes and told him:</p> + +<p>"My son, I understand men. I can divine your nature; you are no sceptic. +Take up this case, the Blessed Father Bonaventura's case. He will repay +you the services you may render him. For myself, I am over old to +witness the success of + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="page302" id="page302">[Pg 302]</a></span> + +this noble enterprise. I must die soon; but +knowing it to be in your hands, I shall die happy. Above all, never +forget, my kinsman, that all power comes of God by the instrumentality +of his priests."</p> + +<p>He rose to his feet, raised his arms to bless his young kinsman and +withdrew.</p> + +<p>Left alone, Bonaparte turned over the leaves of the ponderous Memorial +by the smoky light of his candle, as he pondered over the power of the +Church, and told himself the Papacy was a more enduring institution than +ever the Constitution of the Year III was likely to be.</p> + +<p>A knock was heard at the door. It was Berthier, come to inform the +General that all was ready for their departure.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_18" id="Footnote_1_18"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_1_18"><span class="label">1</span></a> +"When, a plain citizen, soldier of a free people, by the +banks of the Eridanus, the Adige and the Tiber, blasting with his +lightnings one after another recalcitrant tyrants, his hand brake the +fetters of the nations that wept...."</div> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_2_19" id="Footnote_2_19"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_2_19"><span class="label">2</span></a> +"Napoleon, visiting Florence after his Leghorn expedition, +lay one night at San Miniato at the house of an old Abbé Buonaparte...." +(<i>Memorial of St. Helena</i>, by the Count de Las Cases—reprint of 1823, +1824, Vol. I, p. 149.)</div> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_3_20" id="Footnote_3_20"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_3_20"><span class="label">3</span></a> +"I stayed for the night at San Miniato. I had a relative +living there, an old Canon...." (<i>Memoirs of Dr. F. Antommarchi on the +Last Moments of Napoleon</i>, 1825, vol. I, p. 155.)</div> + +<hr style="width: 33%" /> + +<h4>THE END</h4> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Well of Saint Clare, by Anatole France + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WELL OF SAINT CLARE *** + +***** This file should be named 18728-h.htm or 18728-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/7/2/18728/ + +Produced by R. 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