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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5061466 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50964 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50964) diff --git a/old/50964-8.txt b/old/50964-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d1d92ac..0000000 --- a/old/50964-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15198 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Leonora D'Orco, by -G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Leonora D'Orco - A Historical Romance - -Author: G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James - -Release Date: January 18, 2016 [EBook #50964] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEONORA D'ORCO *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (the New York Public Library) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - 1. Page scan source: - https://books.google.com/books?id=xUtMAAAAcAAJ - (the New York Public Library) - - - - - - -DÜRR'S COLLECTION OF STANDARD -AMERICAN AND BRITISH -AUTHORS. - -EDITED -BY WILLIAM E. DRUGULIN. -VOL. 50. --------- - -LEONORA D'ORCO. -BY -G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ. - - - - - -LEONORA D'ORCO. -A HISTORICAL ROMANCE. - - -BY -G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ., -AUTHOR OF "LORD MONTAGU'S PAGE," "THE OLD DOMINION," -"TICONDEROGA," "AGNES SOREL," ETC. - - -COPYRIGHT EDITION. - - -LEIPZIG: ALPHONS DÜRR. -1860. - - - - - - -LEONORA D'ORCO. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -There is a mountain pass, not far from the shores of the Lago -Maggiore, which has been famous of late years for anything but _fêtes_ -and festivals. There, many an unfortunate traveller has been relieved -of the burden of worldly wealth, and sometimes of all earthly cares; -and there, many a postillion has quietly received, behind an oak-tree -or a chesnut, a due share of the day's earnings from a body of those -Italian gentlemen whose life is generally spent in working upon the -highways, either with a long gun in their hands or a chain round their -middles. - -But, dear reader, the times I speak of were centuries ago--those named -"the good old times," though Heaven only knows why they were called -"good." - -The world was in a very strange state just then. The resurrection of -art--the recovery of letters--the new birth of science, marked out the -age as one of extraordinary development; but the state of society -from which all these bright things sprang--flowers rising from a -dunghill--was one of foul and filthy fermentation, where every -wickedness that the corrupt heart of man can devise worked and -travailed for the birth of better things. That pass, in those "good -old times," saw every day as much high-handed wrong and ruthless -bloodshed as any pass in all Italy at the present time. - -But such was not destined to be the case upon the present occasion, -though the times of which I write were the end of the fifteenth and -the beginning of the sixteenth centuries. Guilt, and fraud, and even -murder, often in those days covered themselves with golden embroidery -and perfumed flowers; and, interposed between acts of violence, -rapine, and destruction, were brilliant festivals, the luxurious -banquet, and the merry dance. - -Wickedness, like virtue, proposes to itself enjoyment for its object; -and the Bible is right when, as it often does, it uses the word wisdom -as synonymous with virtue, for in the wisdom of the means is the -certainty of the attainment. But the men of those days, as if they -felt--how could they avoid feeling?--the insecurity of the ground on -which they based their endeavours for the acquisition of happiness, -were content to take the distant and doubtful payment by instalments -of fruition, and let the revel, the pageant, the debauch go to the -great reckoning as so much gained, without thinking of the terrible -_per contra_. - -That pass was well fitted to afford a scene for many of the dealings -of those or these days. There the robber might lurk perfectly -concealed in the dark nooks and crannies of the rocks, to spring forth -upon the unwary traveller when least prepared--there a handful of men -might defend the passage against an army--there, the gay, happy party -might raise the wild echo of the mountains to their joyous songs--and -there the artist might linger for long hours, studying the fantastic -shapes into which the ground has been thrown, and filling up the -shadowy recesses with forms such as Rosa loved to draw. - -For somewhat less than two miles, the road, which, even in those days, -was a good and well-constructed highway, passed between two ranges of -rocks. On one side--the left hand, going north--a stream ran by the -side of the path, some twenty feet below its level; but the bank -itself could be easily descended to the river, and the stream, though -deep in some places, was easily to be crossed at others, where it -spread out over fallen rocks and stones. But what was the use of -crossing it? On the other side was no path, and nothing but tall, -ragged cliffs, in some places upright and flat, as if they had been -cut with a knife, in others assuming the most wild and fantastic -forms. Here was a strange grinning face, of gigantic size, starting -forth in stone from the surface of the cliff; there a whole statue -standing out from the rocky mass, as if a sentinel guarding the pass; -then would come a castle with towers and keep, ballium and barbican -and all, and yet nought but mere rock, wrought by no hands but those -of time, earthquake, and tempest. But every here and there, from -pinnacle and point, or out of dell and cavern, would spring a dark -pine or light green ash; and the sight of even vegetable life would -harmonize the scene with human thoughts. - -The average width of the bottom of the valley, including river and -road, might be a hundred yards; but there was one place, nearly at the -middle of the gorge--probably where, in ages far remote, before -history or even tradition began, the stream, rushing new-born from the -mountains, had paused in its course to gather strength ere it forced -its way through the rocky barrier opposed to it--in which a little -amphitheatre appeared, the mountains receding on either hand to let -the river make a circuit round a low knoll and its adjacent meadow, -some three hundred yards across. A clump of trees had gathered -together on the top of the little hillock, the turf was short and -smooth; the stream, though still rapid, and fretting at the fallen -stones in its way, had less of the torrent-like turbulence which it -displayed where the pass was narrower; now and then, too, it would -lapse into a quiet, deep, unruffled pool, where the many-coloured -rocks and pebbles at the bottom could be seen, glazed and brightened -by its crystal waters; and the white clouds, floating over the deep -blue Italian sky, would seem to pause, with curious pleasure, in their -flight, to look down for a moment on that fair spot, amid so much -stony ruggedness. - -Through this wild gorge, toward noon of a soft but breezy spring day -in the year of grace 1494, coming from the northwest, rode a gay, a -numerous, and a brilliant party; too few, indeed, to constitute an -army, but too many and too well armed to fear the attack of any party -of banditti less in number than those great mercenary bands whose -leisure in those days was seldom long enough to rob on their own -account, so great was the demand for their services, in the same way, -among the princes of the land. And yet the cavalcade of which I speak -did not altogether assume a military aspect. It is true that the rear -was brought up by a body of a couple of hundred lances, and that -between these and those who rode foremost were a number of gentlemen, -old and young, from beneath whose surcoats glanced corslet and -cuissard, and who, though they rode with velvet cap on head and -sometimes a hawk upon the wrist, had helmet, and lance, and shield -near at hand, borne by gay and splendidly-dressed pages. But the most -remarkable group had no warlike signs about it. All men but -ecclesiastics and serfs, in those days, bore some kind of arms during -their most peaceful avocations; and thus there were swords and daggers -enough among the little party; but there were men in the robes of the -Church--bishops, and archdeacons, and even a monk or two, while those -of secular habit looked more like the carpet-treading, soft-lying -children of a court than warriors born for strife and conquest. - -Thrown a little in advance of the mass rode two men-at-arms, heavily -harnessed, and behind them, at perhaps twenty paces distance, five or -six others, lance in hand. Then, however, came the principal group, at -the head of which, with a crimson velvet bonnet or round cap on his -head, ornamented with a single large ruby clasping a long, thin -feather, appeared, as it seemed, a mere youth. He was short in -stature, and somewhat, though not remarkably, deformed; at least, the -fall of his wide and fur-trimmed mantle concealed in a great degree -the defect of symmetry in his figure. All, indeed, had been done that -the tailor's courtly art could do to conceal it, and the eye was more -inclined to rest upon the countenance than upon the form. The face was -not very handsome, but there was a frank, bold expression about it -which won upon the regard at first sight; and yet a certain look of -suffering--the trace, as it seemed, of a struggle between a high -courage and bodily infirmity--saddened his aspect. A mere passing -stranger would have fixed the age of that young horseman probably at -eighteen or nineteen, but he had seen, in reality, between twenty-two -and twenty-three years; and although many vicissitudes had not -attended his course, enough experience of the world, and courts, and -men, had been his to have made him older in appearance and older in -mind than he was. - -Grouped half a step behind this figure, and stretching quite across -the road--for no one would yield a place which he could fairly claim -near the fountain of all honour and the source of advancement--were a -number of cavaliers, of all sorts of callings, distinguished in -general by some peculiarity of costume. At least, any eye accustomed -to the dress of that day could distinguish among them the hard old -warrior, the bishop, the high officer of the law, and gay and gallant -courtiers not a few, among whom, holding their rank immediately behind -the principal personage, were six pages, habited in what was called -purple cloth of gold, mounted on light but beautiful horses, bedizened -with silken housings, and knots of ribbons, and flaunting feathers. - -Among these last was no rivalry for place, for each had his particular -station assigned to him; but with the rest an occasional angry word, -and a more frequent angry look, would mark the indignation of some -aspiring courtier at what he thought an attempt upon the part of -another to get before him. - -"My Lord of Tremouille," said one sharply, "I wish you would refrain -your horse; I have hardly space to ride." - -"He will not be refrained, my reverend lord," replied the other, "'tis -an ambitious beast, well nigh as aspiring as a churchman. He will -forward, whatever be in his way. Good sooth, he knows his place well -too, and thinks that, though he might make a poor show in a king's -closet, he may be found better near his sovereign in the march or the -battle than any of the mules of the Church." - -The words were spoken in no very low tone, and probably they reached -the ears of the young man at the head of the cavalcade; but he took no -notice, though the prelate turned somewhat red, and several who were -near laughed low; and a moment or two after, the whole party emerged -from the narrower part of the gorge into that little amphitheatre -which I have lately described. - -"Why, what is here?" cried the leader of the band, reining up his -horse. "This is a scene of fairy land? Who expected to meet with such -a spectacle in this desert?" - -"Why, sire," replied the prelate, "you may remember his Excellency the -Regent of Milan promised to meet you somewhere near this spot--at -least before you reached the city." - -"Ah, Louis the Moor knows where to lay chaff for young birds," -muttered La Tremouille; "commend me to these Italians for wheedling -and trickery." - -"Hush, hush!" said one of his companions; "you cannot deny, -Tremouille, that this Ludovic is a stout and skilful soldier, as well -as a shrewd politician. I know not how he gained the name of 'The -Moor,' but----" - -"Why, they gave him the name because all his relations die black, or -turn black after they die," answered the gallant soldier, with a -bitter laugh; "but, on my life, the pageant is pretty. 'Tis a -gallantry not expected in this wild place. Only, my good friend, look -to what wine you drink at Ludovic's expense; it sometimes has a -strange taste, and stranger consequences, men say, especially upon his -enemies." - -"I am no enemy," answered the other; "you, look to yourself, -Tremouille. You must either dare the boccone or die of thirst." - -"Nay, he will find out that I am one of his best friends," answered La -Tremouille; "for I would fain have dissuaded the king from this wild -expedition; and Master Ludovic, who urged it so strongly, will find, -before he has done, that, ask a Frenchman to dinner, and he'll stay to -supper also." - -The scene which had excited so much surprise, and even admiration -among the French, derived its principal interest from the ruggedness -of the objects around. Some twenty or thirty small tents had been -pitched in the little meadow, round which the river circled, each with -its pennon fluttering from the top of the gilt pole which supported -it, while the group of trees upon the little monticule in the midst -was so interlaced, at some eight feet from the ground, with ribbons -and festoons of flowers, that it afforded as complete a shade from the -sun as any of the pavilions. The trunks of the trees, too, were bound -round with garlands, and although neither Tasso nor Guarini had yet -fully revived the taste for the pastoral amongst the Italian people, -the groups which were seen, both in the tents and under the branches, -were all habited as shepherds and shepherdesses, according to the most -approved notions of Golden Age costume in those days. - -In each of the pavilions, the canvas door of which was thrown wide -open, was spread a table apparently well supplied, and beneath the -trees appeared a kingly board covered with fine linen and rich plate, -while a buffet behind groaned beneath a mass of gold and silver. But -the sharp eye of La Tremouille soon espied that the two shepherds who -stood at either end of the buffet, as well as two more behind it, were -especially well armed for a pastoral race; and he did not fail to -comment with a laugh upon the anomaly. - -"Pooh! pooh!" cried the young King Charles VIII., turning his head -over his shoulder to the stout soldier, but smiling at his remarks, -"why should not shepherds have arms? They must defend their muttons, -especially when such wolves as you are about!" - -La Tremouille answered with a proverb of very ancient date, "Well, -sire, they cannot say I am a wolf in sheep's clothing. God send your -majesty may not find some in this country, where they are plenty, I am -told. Will you not dismount, sire, to do honour to this festa?" - -"But where are our hosts?" asked Charles, looking round. "My Lord -Archbishop, can you distinguish among the shepherds, Prince Ludovic or -his fair lady? You have had advantage of us all in seeing their -Highnesses." - -"On my hopes, sire, I cannot tell which they are, if they be here," -replied the prelate. "Here, pretty maiden, will you let us know who is -the lord of this feast, and who are to be the guests?" - -The last words were spoken in Italian to a very handsome, dark-eyed -shepherdess, who, with a coquettish air, had passed somewhat near the -royal party. But the girl merely replied by the word "Hark!" bending -her head on one side and affecting to listen attentively. A moment -after, the flourish of some trumpets was heard from the continuation -of the pass on the other side of the meadow; and La Tremouille, -turning round, gave some orders in a low tone to one of his -attendants. By him they were carried to the rear, and immediately the -party of lances which formed the king's escort put itself in motion, -and spread out round one side of the meadow in the form of a crescent, -leaving the monarch and his immediate attendants grouped on horseback -in the midst. - -If this was a movement of precaution against any party approaching -from the other side, it was unnecessary. A moment after, on the -opposite side of the meadow, issuing from the gorge like a stream of -gold, appeared a cavalcade which the chroniclers of the day have -delighted to describe as the height of splendour and magnificence. At -its head appeared Ludovico Sforza, nicknamed "the Moor," accompanied -by the Princess of Ferrara his young wife, and followed by the whole -court of Milan, each vying with the other in luxury and display. "The -princess," says an Italian writer of the day, "was mounted on a superb -horse, covered with cloth of gold and crimson velvet. She wore a dress -of green cloth of gold, floating over which was a light gauze. Her -hair, only bound by a ribbon, fell gracefully upon her shoulders -and upon her bosom. On her head she bore a hat of crimson silk, -surmounted by five or six feathers of red and grey. Her suite -comprised twenty-two ladies of the first rank, all dressed like -herself, and six cars followed, covered with cloth of gold, and filled -with the rarest beauties of Italy." - -It would be tedious as well as difficult to give any description of -the scene that followed. The two parties soon mingled together. -Ceremony and parade were forgotten in gallantry and enjoyment. The -younger men at once gave themselves up to the pleasures of the hour, -and even the older and more sedate warriors and counsellors soon shook -off their frosty reserve under the warming influence of beauty and -wine; and thus began the expedition of Charles VIII. to Naples, more -like some festal pilgrimage than the hostile invasion of a neighbour's -dominions. Thus it began, and thus it proceeded till the end was -obtained, and then the scene changed to hard blows instead of feasts -and pageants, and care and anxiety instead of revelry and enjoyment. - -I have said it would be tedious to describe what followed; but there -were episodes in the little drama acted in that wild amphitheatre -which connect themselves with my story, and must be told. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -General conversation between the two courts of France and Milan was -somewhat difficult; for, to say sooth, there were many there who could -not speak the language of their neighbours, or spoke it very -imperfectly. But Frenchmen, and Italians likewise, are famous for -delivering themselves from such difficulties. They talk with a happy -carelessness of whether they are understood or not, and eke out the -defect of language with a sign or gesture. But there were some, there -present, to whom both tongues were familiar; and while the King of -France sat beneath the trees with Lodovico Sforza and his lovely wife, -one of the youths who had followed him might be seen at the other side -of the little grove, stretched easily on the ground between two young -girls who had accompanied the princess, and with one of whom, at -least, his acquaintance seemed of early date. - -The young man was tall, well formed, and handsome; and he looked older -than he really was, for he had not yet seen more than eighteen -summers. The two girls were younger still, neither having reached the -age of fifteen years. Both gave promise of exceeding beauty--otherwise -perhaps they would have been excluded from the gay train of the -princess; but, though womanhood ripens earlier under Italian skies -than in colder climates, they were still evidently in girlhood, and, -what was more rare, they had apparently preserved all the freshness -and innocent frankness of their age. - -One called the young man "Cousin Lorenzo," and teased him gaily with -criticisms of his dress and appearance; vowed he had promised to bring -back a beard from France, and yet he had not even a moustache; -declared that she abominated the hair cut short before and hanging -down behind after the French mode, and assumed that the large sleeves -of his surcoat must be made to carry provisions in, not only for -himself, but for all his company. She was the younger of the two, and -probably not yet fourteen years of age; and though there was a world -of merriment in her sparkling blue eyes, and a gay, bright smile kept -playing lightly round her lips, yet it would have been a hard critic -who could, in her, have discovered any of that coquetry from which -even her age is not exempt. On the contrary, she seemed to strive to -direct her cousin's admiration to her fair companion, who, in her -eyes, was the most beautiful and perfect creature in the universe; -and, in truth, there was many a one in after days who thought so to -his cost. - -Very different in personal appearance was she from her younger -companion: tall for her age, and of that light, slender form which, in -early youth, often promises the rich, flowing contour at an after -period, which Guido loved, and even Raphael and Julio Romano did not -undervalue. She was dark in complexion, too--that is to say, her hair -was black as a raven's wing; and her full, almond-shaped eyes, with -the lashes that shaded them, and the arched eyebrows above were dark -as the hair. But yet there was something that softened all. Either it -was the flowing of the lines into each other, or the happy blending of -the tints, but nothing in the face or form was sharp or too defined. -The skin was clear, and soft, and bright--so far dark, indeed, as to -harmonize with the hair and eyes; but through the slight olive tint of -southern climes shone the clear, warm rose of health; and, over all, -youth and dawning womanhood shed their thousand inexpressible graces, -like the winged loves which, in one of Albano's pictures, flutter -round the Goddess of Beauty. She was gay, too--gay even as her -bright-eyed companion at times; but it was with sudden fits and -starts; and every now and then would intervene lapses of thought, as -if she were questioning with herself of things beyond her knowledge. -It is not rare to find that a thoughtful youth ripens into a -passionate maturity. Her dress was one common at that day, we find, in -the court of Ferrara; but it had not long been the mode in any part of -Italy; and to the eyes of the young Lorenzo, who had been nearly two -years absent from his native country, it seemed strange and hardly -decent. It consisted of a robe somewhat like that of the princess, -except that the ground of the cloth of gold, instead of green, was of -a pale delicate rose colour. The sleeves, in the young girl's case, -fitted tight to the rounded arms, but the front of each, from the -shoulder nearly to the wrist, was cut open, showing the chemise of -snowy lawn, except where, every two or three inches, a small jewel, in -the form of a button, gathered the edges of the cloth of gold -together. The robe in front also was thrown back from the neck and -bosom, which was only shaded by the profuse curls of jetty hair. -Instead of the small hat, with its plume of feathers, worn by the wife -of the regent, a veil of rich black lace, fastened at the back of the -head with a jewelled pin, thence to the shoulders; and round her waist -was a knotted cord of gold, the tassels of which, strangely twisted -and contorted, fell almost to her feet. - -Such was the appearance of Leonora d'Orco at the age of fourteen, or -very little more. Of that which is beyond appearance I may have -occasion to speak hereafter. - -Facts may seem trite, which nevertheless must be said in explanation -of the character he depicts by any one who writes the history of -another. We lose the key of a cabinet, nearly new, perhaps, and we -send to a vender of old iron to see if we cannot find one to fit it. -We select one and then another for trial, and find at length a key -which seems to conform to the shape of the keyhole. Would any one -object to its trial because it is old and rust-worn? Well, it is old; -it may have served in a hundred locks before, for aught we know; but -it fits, and opens, and shuts this lock, and that is all we have to do -with it. - -It has often been said, and was frequently insisted upon by Goethe, -that each human being is a different being at each period of his age -from that which he was at an anterior period. The very substance of -the body, say the physiologists, is entirely changed in every seven -years. What of the mind? Do cares, and sorrows, and experience, and -joys, and hopes, and fruitions, effect no change in it? God forbid! If -we believe the mind immortal, and not subject, like the body, to death -and resurrection, still greater must be the changes; for its state -must be progressive towards evil or towards good. Expansion certainly -comes with knowledge; every day has its lesson, its reproof, its -encouragement; and the very development or decay of the mortal frame -affects the tenant within--hardens, strengthens, elevates, instructs; -or, entenders, enfeebles, depresses, depraves. Suffice it here to say, -that perhaps no one ever in life experienced greater changes of -thought, feeling, character, than Leonora d'Orco, as the winged -moments flew over her head. And yet the indestructible essence was the -same; every essential element remained; it was but the combinations -that were modified. A few years later, had you asked her if she had -ever felt such sensations, or thought such thoughts as she felt and -thought now, she would instantly have said "No;" but one moment's -lifting of the veil which hides the pictures of the past would have -shown her that she had felt, had thought such things; one moment's -scrutiny of her own heart would have shown her that, in another form, -she felt them, thought them still. - -But let us regard her only in the present. See how her eye sparkles, -how her lip wreaths itself in smiles, and how the joyous laugh breaks -forth clear, and sweet, and musical, finding expression not only in -its own melodious tones, but in every feature--aye, and even in the -colour that rises in a gay bashfulness, and spreads suddenly over -cheek and brow, as if a ray of morning sunshine had found its way -through the green branches and lighted up her face. And then all is -still again--still, and quiet, and thoughtful--and her eyes bend down -and the long lashes kiss her cheek--and the rose has faded away--and -the clear skin is paler than before, till something from one or the -other of her gay companions awakens merriment again, and then she -changes once more with the sudden change of mountain skies. - -But see! they are talking of more serious matters now. - -"Not enter Milan!" cries Leonora; "not enter beautiful Milan! Signor -Lorenzo, how is that? Have you lost all love and pride in your own -fair country?" - -"I must not enter Milan," he answered with a sigh; "but if I might, -Leonora, I could not." - -"But why--why?" she asked eagerly; "are you one of the exiles? Oh, if -that is so, the princess loves me well, and besides, when you come -with the King of France, a guest of Count Ludovic, the past must be -forgotten in the present, and you be welcomed too. Oh, do not say you -will not come." - -She spoke eagerly, and then cast down her eyes, for his met hers with -a look too full of admiration to be mistaken. - -"Do not ask him--do not ask him," said sweet Bianca Maria di Rovera; -"he is going to my grandfather's villa till the king marches on. That -is already settled, Leonora." - -"And you never told me, when your grandfather engaged us to go there -too," said Leonora; "but how will the King of France be pleased?" - -"He has given permission," answered Lorenzo; "he understands well that -the son of Carlo Visconti could only enter Milan in one manner." - -The young girl bent her head, and only answered, in a low tone, "I -would fain hear more. It seems to me a strange arrangement." - -"You shall hear all, at some other time and place, Signora Leonora," -replied Lorenzo: "every minute I expect the trumpets to sound to -horse; and my tale, which is a sad one, should have some quiet spot -for the telling, and evening skies, and few listeners near." - -The listeners, indeed, were, or might be, too many in a place where -all was suspicion and much was danger. Every instant some one was -passing near them--either one of the pastoral gentry who had waited -for the meeting of the two courts, or some one from the suites of the -two princes. - -The latter part of the lad's reply seemed at once to awaken Leonora to -the necessity of caution. Her younger companion, indeed, who seemed -ignorant of her cousin's early history, pressed him with girlish -eagerness to tell all then and there; but the other, who even then -knew more of Italian life--not without an effort, yet with much -delicacy of judgment and feeling--directed their conversation into -other channels, and soon brought back the gaiety and the sparkle which -at that time was cultivated almost as an art by the higher classes of -Italy. Speedily thought, and sentiment, and mood followed the course -of even such light things as words: serious topics and dark -remembrances, and even present dangers and discomforts, were -forgotten;--and, as if in order to give relief to the lights in the -future of life some dark shades were needed--the young three there -gathered appeared to find in the faint allusion made to more painful -things an accession of gaiety and enjoyment. The strangeness of first -acquaintance was cast away between the two who had never met before. -Bianca Maria, or Blanche Marie, as the French would have termed her, -forgot how long a time had passed since she had seen her cousin, and -all for the time was once more joy and light-hearted merriment. The -same spirit _seemed_ to pervade the whole party there assembled. It is -hard to say _seemed_, for any eye that gazed upon that scene would -have boldly concluded that all was peace and joy. - -Oh, false word! Oh, false seeming! There was doubt, and fear, and -malevolence, and treachery there in many a heart; and of all the -groups into which those two gay courts had separated themselves, -perhaps reality, and enjoyment, and careless mirth were more truly to -be found among those three young people, who, forgetful of courtly -ceremony, had taken their seats beneath the trees on the west of the -knoll, with their backs turned toward the royal and princely -personages present. They, at least, knew how to enjoy the hour; and -there let us leave them, with the benediction and applause of Lorenzo -the Magnificent upon them: - - "Quant' e bella giovinezza - Che si fugge tuttavia - Chi vuol esser lietto, sia - Di doman non c'e certezza." - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -If the world be a stage, as the greatest of earth's poets has said, -and all the men and women in it merely players, human life divides -itself not only into acts, but scenes. The drop curtain falls for a -longer or a shorter period; and, without whistle or call, the place is -shifted, and the interval is filled up with nought which affects the -actors before the public, or the general course of their own parts, or -the end of the great drama played. Let us pass over the mere shiftings -of the scene; the pompous reception of Charles VIII. in Milan; the -time he wasted there in youthful merriment and courtly gallantry; the -intrigues ending in nothing which went on during his stay in the -Lombard capital; all the French _gaietè de coeur_ with which the -dashing and daring warriors of the most charming land in the world cut -a throat, or make love, or stake a fortune on a card--let us pass them -all by, with the exception of one slight incident, which had some -influence upon the fate of one of our principal characters. - -It is very customary--indeed, it is always customary with men -of impulse, especially when the impulses are impetuous and -ill-regulated--for persons possessing great power to be awed, as it -were, for a short time by the terrible responsibilities of their -position--to seek uninterrupted thought, with an endeavour in their -own mind to find support under the weight from their own intellect, -or, frustrated in their dependence upon so frail a reed, to apply to a -higher guide, who can give not only direction but strength--not only -counsel but capability. There is many an occasion in which the most -self-relying and resolute feels the need of an intelligence higher -than his own, and a force beyond the force of his own character. - -In many respects the character of Charles VIII. was to be admired. His -expedition to Italy was rash, ill-conceived, and ill-executed; but the -conception was great, the objects when rightly viewed, noble, and the -result, though not fortunate, such as showed in the young king the -higher qualities of fortitude, resolution, and that courage which -crushes obstacles by boldly confronting them. But many a time Charles -doubted of his own course--only, indeed, in times of success and -seeming prosperity--and asking himself whether that course was right, -was prudent, was wise, sought guidance and instruction from on high. - -On these occasions he avoided all companionship, and asked direction -from the throne of wisdom in solitary prayer. It was thus he came -forth in the early morning to the Church of St. Stephen, attended only -by a single page, and habited plainly enough to attract no attention. -He had entered the chapel of St. Ambrose, the patron saint of the -city, and was in the very act of kneeling, when the voices of two -other men, speaking somewhat loud in the general stillness, attracted -his attention. - -"Ah!" said the one, "it was there he slew him, and had there been men -to second him, Lombardy would have now been free." - -"It goes about the city," said the other, "that young Lorenzo, his -son, is close at the gates of Milan, ready to avenge his father's -death upon the Sforzeschi." - -"He had better look to his own safety," replied the first speaker, -"for he has to do with powerful enemies, and what the strong hand and -the sword cannot accomplish, the dagger or the cup can perchance -perform." - -The king listened, but nothing more of interest met his ear, and when -his prayer was finished he returned to his private cabinet, and wrote -a few words in haste, without consulting even his most approved -counsellors. It was done; and then he rang a little hand-bell on the -table. It was not like a modern bell, being four-sided, but it had a -good, loud sound, and it immediately brought an attendant from the -ante-room. - -"Call hither the Baron de Vitry," said the king. He spoke of that De -Vitry who was the ancestor of the well-known Marechal de Vitry, and -who, a few days after, became Marquis de Vitry on the death of his -father. "Tell him to be quick, for he sleeps late when there is no -fighting to be done." - -The man hastened away to execute his commands, but it was some twenty -minutes before the officer summoned appeared, and then, to say sooth, -he was but imperfectly apparelled. There was a point here and there -untrussed, and his collar was certainly not placed in its usual and -intended position--indeed, some severe critics of costume might have -supposed that it was turned wrong side before. - -"Always behind, De Vitry," said the monarch, who had grown impatient -in waiting. - -"I was not behind at St. Aubin, sire," replied the young officer with -a gay confidence; "but, sire, we were bound to sit up so late last -night for the honour of France that our eyes had leaden weights upon -them this morning." - -"Ay, a revel, of course," said the king; "too much revelling, De -Vitry. We must think of more serious things." - -"Good faith! sire, we are all ready," replied the young officer; "we -only revel because we have nought else to do. While your majesty and -your wise counsellors are gravely deliberating in the cabinet, we have -nought else to do but dance, and drink, and sing in the hall; and I am -sure you, sire, would not have us behind the Italian in dancing and -drinking, when they go so far before us in singing; but only give us -something else to do, and we are ready to ride, or fight, or work in -any way tomorrow." - -The young king mused for a moment, and then murmured the words, "A -just reproof!" Then taking the paper he had written, he added, "Take a -hundred men of your company of ordnance, De Vitry, and set out at once -toward Vigevano. Five miles on this side of the town, on the bank of -the Ticino, you will find a villa belonging to the Count of Rovera. -There you will find young Lorenzo Visconti. Give him that paper, -appointing him to the command of the troop of poor young Moustier, who -was stabbed, no one knows why or how." - -"Oh, sire, I know why, and how too," answered De Vitry, in his usual -gay, light-hearted tone; "he was stabbed because he chose to make -love to the daughter of the confectioner who lives just below the -castle--she is, indeed, a wonderful little beauty; but she is -betrothed to a young armourer, and Moustier was not right to seek her -for his leman, under her promised husband's very nose. There are -plenty of free-hearted dames in Milan, without his breaking up the -happiness of two young people who never sought him. Then, as to the -way, sire, that is very easily explained---a dark corner, a strong -hand, and a sharp dagger over the left shoulder, and the thing was -soon accomplished. Ludovic says he will have the young armourer broken -on the wheel, to satisfy your majesty; but I trust you will tell him -not; for, in the first place, nothing can be proved against him; and, -in the next, according to his own notions, he did nothing but what was -right; and, in the next, De Moustier was all in the wrong; and, in the -next, this youth, Tomaso Bondi, is the best armourer in Italy--no man -I ever saw can inlay a Milan corslet as he can." - -"All very cogent reasons," answered the king, "and the regent shall do -nought to him, to satisfy me. De Moustier forgot the warning I gave -him after I was ill at Lyons, when he insulted the young wife of the -dean of the weavers; and as he has sought his fate, so he must abide -it. But, as I have said, seek out my young Cousin Lorenzo, give him -the paper, and tell him to join you next day at Pavia or Vigevano; but -do not let your men dismount, and take care that they commit no -outrage on the lands of Signor Rovera. At Vigevano you may halt till -you hear that I am on my way to Pavia. You shall have timely notice." - -The officer took the open paper from the king's hand, and in a -nonchalant way gazed at the contents, exclaiming as he did so, "On my -faith, it is fairly written!" - -The cheek of Charles turned somewhat red, and, fixing his eye keenly -upon De Vitry, he said, "You mean no offence, young sir, I believe; -but, Baron de Vitry, I tell you, if two years ago your king could not -write his name, it was not his fault. Would that all my nobility would -try to retrieve their errors as I have striven to remedy the defects -of my education." - -The young monarch was evidently much pained at what he thought an -allusion to the ignorance in which he had been brought up; and De -Vitry, whose thoughts were perfectly innocent of such offence, bent -his knee and kissed his sovereign's hand, saying, in his frank way, -"On my life, sire, I only admired the writing, and wished I were as -good a clerk. Heaven knows that, though I can write fast enough, no -man can read as fast what I have written. It has cost me many a time -more James, than an hour to make out my own letters. This carrying a -confounded lance, ever since I was eighteen, makes my finger unfit for -handling a quill; and, unless I fall in love, and have to write sweet -letters to fair ladies--which God forfend--I dare say the time will -come when I shall be unable to write at all." - -The king smiled good-humouredly at his blunt officer, for Charles's -anger soon passed away, and, bidding him rise, he said, "There, go, De -Vitry; you are a rough specimen of our French soldiers, for these -silken ladies of the South. I fear you will not make much way with -them." - -"Oh, they love me all the better, sire," answered De Vitry; "I'm a new -dish at their table. But I go to perform your will, sire; and, good -faith! I am not sorry to be in the saddle again. But what am I to do -with that young fellow, Bayard, who struck the big Ferrara man for -calling us barbarians? We have kept a close eye upon him, for he seems -never to dream that, if the signor were to meet him alone, he would -put a dagger in him, or break his back as a storm breaks a hard young -sapling. Good faith, sire, the man would eat the boy up as the old -giants used to do with the princes and princesses of I don't know -where in days of yore." - -"That is well bethought," replied the king. "I wish to have no -brawling, De Vitry. Take Bayard with you to Pavia. Stay! let me -consider what I can do to smooth his removal from the court, for he is -a brave lad, and will some time make a name in life. They are hardy -soldiers, these men of the Isere." - -"He is of such stuff as kings of France have most need of," answered -De Vitry. "Give him ten years more, and I would match him against -Mohammed. But the cornet of my troop, you know, sire, died on Friday -last of wine poison at Beccafico's--we hold our life on slender tenure -in this land--and if your majesty would please to name Bayard to fill -his place, he would be very well content, for he loves Bellona's -harness more than Cupid's, as my old tutor, the Abbé de Mortemar, used -to say when he could not get me to construe Ovid. But I know not how -Bayard may take Signor Lorenzo's appointment to De Moustier's troop, -he being also one of your pages, and more than a year older." - -"Lorenzo Visconti is our cousin, sir," replied Charles, somewhat -sternly; "and, were he not so, we suffer no one to comment on our will -in ordaining how we shall be served. If Pierre de Terrail hesitates at -the honour we confer on him so young, because we name our own kindred -to a higher command at a younger age, let him remain as he is. We will -not resent such conduct, but we will make him feel that we are King of -France." - -There was sufficient irritation in his tone to induce the young -officer to withdraw; and he left the king's presence, repeating to -himself, "Our cousin! I see not how that is; but we are all cousins in -Adam, God wot; and the affinity must be somewhere thereabout, I take -it. Well, God send me some royal cousins, or right noble ones, for -'tis the only road to promotion in this world." - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -It was early in the month of September. The grapes were already purple -with the draughts of sunshine which they had drunk in through a long, -ardent summer, and the trees had already begun to display "the sear -and yellow leaf"--early, early, like those who exhaust in life's young -day all the allotted pleasures of man's little space. The autumn had -fallen upon them soon. Yet it was a lovely scene, as you gazed from -one of those little monticules which stud the Lombard plains. There is -something in the descent from the mountains into Italy which seems to -anticipate the land--not so much in its physical as in its moral -features; a softness, a gentleness, a gracefulness which is all its -own, while round about, unseen, but felt in every breeze, is the dark, -pestilential swamp, gloomy and despairing, or else a brighter but more -treacherous land, fair to the eye, but destructive to vitality, which -lures but to destroy. One easily conceives the character of a large -portion of the people of the middle ages in Italy from the aspect of -the land. But it is of the people of the middle ages only. One can -hardly derive any notion of the ancient Roman from the characteristics -of the country till one plunges into the Campagna, where the stern, -hard features of the scenery seem to represent that force which, alas! -has passed away. - -And yet it was a lovely scene, and a moment of sweet and calm -enjoyment, as three young people sat together on the lower step of a -terrace near Vigevano, with a fountain gushing and murmuring some -twenty feet above, and a beautiful garden filled with mulberry-trees -and vines, and some oranges, not very luxuriant, but diffusing a -pleasant but languid odour round. The eye wandered over the shrubs and -trees to the lands watered by the Ticino on its way to Pavia; and -beyond, in the evening light, long lines of undulating country were -marked out in the deep blue tints peculiar to the distant scenery of -Italy. The terrace, below which the three were seated, was long and -wide, and rising therefrom, near the centre, was one face of a villa, -built in a style of which few specimens remain. The taste and genius -of Palladio had not yet given to the villa-architecture of Lombardy -that lightness and grace which formed the characteristic of a -new style of art. There was something, at that time, in every -country-house of Italy of the heavy, massive repulsiveness of the old -castello. But yet the dawn of a better epoch was apparent, in the -works of Andrea Palladio's great master, Trissino; and in the very -villa of which I speak, though here and there a strong, tall tower was -apparent, and the basement story contained stone enough to have built -a score of modern houses, much ornament of a light and graceful -character had been lavished upon the whole building, as if to conceal -that it was constructed for defence as well as enjoyment. Indeed, as -is generally the case, there was a certain harmony between the times -and state of society and the constructions of the period. The Italian -smiled, and revelled, and feasted, and called in music, and song, and -poetry, to cover over the dangers, and the griefs, and the terrors of -every day; and the palace in the city, or the villa in the country, -was often as richly decorated as if its massy inner walls were never -intended to preserve the life and fortune of its owner from the hands -of rude assailants, nor its halls ever to witness deeds of horror and -cruelty within their dark recesses. - -It was, indeed, an evening and a scene such as Lorenzo Visconti had -described as fitted for the telling of his own history. All was still -and quiet around; the leaves of the vines hardly moved with the light -air, the glow of the western sky faded off into deep purple as the eye -was raised from the horizon to the zenith; no moving object--no, not a -floating cloud, could be seen on any side; and the murmur of the -fountain seemed to add to, rather than detract from, the stillness. -The three young people--I need not tell the reader who they were---had -ranged themselves as their nature or their temporary feelings -prompted. On the lowest step Bianca Maria had placed herself, looking -up with her sweet confiding eyes towards the young companion whom she -almost idolized. On the step above was her cousin Lorenzo; and on a -step above them both, but leaning with her elbow on her knee, and her -cheek resting on her hand, a little to the right of Lorenzo and the -left of Bianca, was Leonora d'Orco, with her dark eyes bent down, -drinking in the words of the young soldier. - -It was a group such as Bronzino might have delighted to paint; for not -only were there those colours in it which all Italians love, and all -Italian artists take pleasure in blending and harmonizing--the deep -browns, which characterise the complexion of their country, with the -rarer and exceptional fairness sometimes found among them---the -flowing flaxen hair of the North, and its rich crimsons, but in the -dress of the three also there were those strong contrasts of -harmonious hues, if I may use what may seem at first sight (but only -at first sight) a contradiction in terms--the rich red, and the deep -green, and the yellow touching upon brown, and the pale blue. How -charming, how satisfactory was the art of those old painters in -reproducing on the canvas the combinations which nature produces every -day. And yet Art, following Nature in its infinite variety, has shown -us, in the works of Murillo and some other Spanish artists, that -perfect harmony of colouring can afford as much pleasure as harmonized -contrasts, and that in painting also there may be Mozarts as well as -Beethovens. - -The evening light fell beautifully upon that young group, as they sat -there on the steps of the terrace, and, just glancing round the angle -of an old ruined building of Roman date in the gardens below, touched -gently and sweetly upon the brow and eyes of Bianca Maria, lighted up -the face of Lorenzo, and shone full upon the whole figure of Leonora, -as she gazed down upon the speaker. - -"I must go back far into the times past," he said; "I dare say you are -well aware that the Viscontis once reigned as lords and dukes of -Milan. Do not suppose, Leonora, that I am about to put forth any claim -to that rich inheritance; for, though nearly allied to the ruling -race, my branch of the family were already separated from the parent -stem when the imperial bull was issued which conferred sovereignty on -the branch that ended with Filippo Maria. That bull limited the -succession strictly, and we had and have no claim. At the death of -Filippo, the Milanese found still one spark of ancient spirit, and -they declared themselves a republic. But republics have in them, -unhappily, no seeds of durability. There is not strength and virtue -enough in man to give them permanence. Rude nations may be strong and -resolute enough to maintain such institutions in their youth; but art -and luxury soften, and in softening enfeeble, so that men learn to -love ease more than independence, pleasure better than freedom. A new -dynasty was destined soon to succeed the old. The Viscontis were -noble, of high race and long descent, connected with every sovereign -house of Europe. But the son of a peasant was to gather their -inheritance and wear their coronet. - -"There was a man born at Cotignola, in Romagna, named Sforza -Attendolo, of very humble birth, but prodigious strength of body and -extraordinary military genius. Famine drove him to seek food in the -trade of war. He joined one of the great companies, rose by the force -of genius and courage, and in the end became one of the two most -famous condottieri in Italy. After a career of almost unexampled glory -and success, he was drowned in swimming the Pescara, but his son -Francesco succeeded to his command, and to more than his inheritance -of military fame. He was, indeed, a great man; and so powerful did he -become, that Filippo Maria Visconti promised him---to the illegitimate -son of a Romagnese peasant--the hand of his only daughter to secure -his services in his many wars. He hesitated long, it is true, to -fulfil a promise which he felt to be degrading, but he was compelled -to submit at length. With the aid of Francesco Sforza he was a great -prince--without him he was nothing; and when he died, old and blind, -he left his people to struggle against the man whom he had aided to -raise, but upon whom his own fate had very often depended. Francesco -was noble at heart, though ambitious. His enemies he often treated -with unexampled generosity, forbearance, and even kindness. He showed -that he feared no man, by freeing the most powerful and most skilful -of his captive enemies; but he pursued his course steadily toward -dominion, not altogether unstained by deceit and falsehood, but -without cruelty or tyranny. Sore pressed by famine, and with his -armies beneath their walls, the Milanese, who recognised his high -qualities, though they feared his dominion, threw open their gates to -him, and renounced their liberty at the feet of a new duke in -February, 1450. The Viscontis had nothing to complain of. The reigning -branch was extinct; the rest were not named in the imperial bull, and -they, with their fellow-citizens, submitted calmly of the rule of the -greatest man then living in Italy. Nor had they cause to regret the -act during the life of Francesco Sforza. He ruled the land justly and -moderately, maintained his own renown to the last, and showed none of -the jealousy of a tyrant towards those whose birth, or fortune, or -talents might have made them formidable rivals. He was wise to -conciliate affection in support of power. His good reign of sixteen -years did more to enslave the Milanese people than the iron heel of -any despot could have done; but there were not wanting those among his -children to take cruel advantage of that which his virtues had -accomplished. He died about thirty years ago, and to him succeeded his -eldest son, the monster Galeazzo. From that hour the iron yoke pressed -upon the neck of the Milanese. The new duke had less ambition than his -father, and inherited none of his talents; but he had a genius for -cruelty, and an energy in crime unequalled even by Eccelino. Those -whom he seemed most to favour and who least feared the tyrant's blow, -were always those on whom it fell most heavily and most suddenly; and -they furnished, when they little expected it, fresh victims for the -torture, or for some new and unheard-of kind of death. His luxury and -his licentiousness passed all bounds; no family was safe; no lady's -honour was unassailed or uncalumniated; violence was resorted to when -corruption did not succeed; in each day he comprised the crimes of a -Tarquin and the ferocity of a Nero. There were, however, three noble -hearts in Milan, and they fancied there were many more. They dreamed -that some public spirit still lingered among their countrymen--at -least enough, when delivered from actual fear of the tyrant, to seize -the opportunity and regain their liberty. When there is no law, men -must execute justice as they can; and those three resolved to put -Galeazzo to death--a mild punishment for a life of crime. Their names -were Olgiati, Lampugnani, and Carlo Visconti. All had suffered from -the tyrant. Olgiati's sister had fallen a victim to his violence. -Lampugnani's wife was another. My mother only escaped by death. But it -was not vengeance that moved the patriots. They had only suffered what -others had suffered. The evils of the country had become intolerable; -they were all the work of one man; and the three determined to deprive -him of the power to inflict more. They looked upon their undertaking -not only as a great and glorious enterprise, but as a religious duty, -and they prepared themselves for its execution with prayer and -fasting, and the most solemn sacrament of the Church. Many -difficulties intervened. Either the consciousness that his tyranny and -crimes had become intolerable, or one of those strange presentiments -of coming fate which have affected many men as the hour of their -destiny drew nigh, rendered Galeazzo less accessible, more suspicious -and retired than before. He seldom came forth from his palace, was no -longer seen on occasions of public ceremony, or in fêtes and -festivals. There was, indeed, one day when he could hardly fail to -show himself, and that was on St. Stephen's day--a day when, by -immemorial custom, every one honours the first martyr by attending -mass at the great church. That day they fixed upon for the execution -of their design, and each was early in the church, with a dagger -hidden in the sleeve of his gown. The world has called it a sacrilege; -but they looked upon it as a holy and a righteous deed, sanctified by -the justice of the cause, that the most sacred place could not be -polluted by it. - -"In the mean time Galeazzo seemed to feel that the day and hour of -retribution had arrived. He would fain have avoided it; he sought to -have mass performed in the palace; he applied to a chaplain--to the -Bishop of Como--but in all instances slight obstacles presented -themselves, and in the end he determined to go to the Cathedral. One -touch of human tenderness and feeling, the first for many a day, broke -from him. He sent for his two children, took leave of them tenderly, -and embraced them again and again. He then went forth; but the -conspirators awaited him in the church; and hardly had he entered when -three daggers were plunged into his breast and back. Each struck a -second blow; and the monster who had inflicted torture, and death, and -disgrace upon so many innocent fellow-creatures sank to the pavement, -exclaiming, 'Sancta Maria!' - -"The three then rushed towards the street to call the people to arms; -but Lampugnani stumbled, catching his feet in the long trains of the -women who were already kneeling in the nave. As he fell he was killed -by a Moor, one of Galeazzo's base retainers. My father was killed -where he stood, and Olgiato escaped into the street only to find the -people, on whom he trusted either dead to all sense of patriotism and -justice, or stupified and surprised. Not a sword was drawn--not a hand -was raised in answer to his cry, 'To arms!' and torture and the death -of a criminal once more closed the career of a patriot. - -"I was an infant at that time, but in the days of Galeazzo Sforza -infants were not spared, and the nurse who had me in her arms hurried -forth, carrying me with her, ere the gates of the city could be -closed, or the followers of the duke came to search and pillage our -house. She took refuge in a neighbouring village, whence we were not -long after carried to Florence, where the noble Lorenzo de Medici, -after whom I had been baptized, received me as his child, and when he -felt death approaching, sent me to the court of France to finish my -education among my relatives there." - -"And was this Prince Ludovic the son of Galeazzo?" asked Leonora, as -soon as he had paused. - -"Oh no--his younger brother," replied Lorenzo. "He holds the son in -durance, and the son's wife, on the pretence of guardianship, though -both are of full age; but, if I be not mistaken, the day of their -deliverance is near at hand, for I have heard the king say he will -certainly see them, and learn whether they are not fitted to rule -their own duchy without the interference of so dangerous a relation." - -"God grant the king may be in time," said Bianca Maria; "for it is -said the young duke is very sick, and people say he has poison in all -he eats." - -"Hush! hush!" cried Leonora, anxiously. "Long confinement and wearing -care are enough to make him sick, Bianca, without a grain of poison. -No one can die now-a-days without people saying he is poisoned. 'Tis a -sad tale, indeed, you tell, Lorenzo, and I have often heard our sweet -Princess of Ferrara say that Galeazzo was a bad man; but Ludovic -surely is not cruel. He has pardoned many a man, I have heard, who had -been condemned by the tribunals." - -A somewhat bitter smile came upon the lips of Lorenzo Visconti, but he -merely replied, "The good and innocent always think others good and -innocent till bitter experience teaches them the contrary." - -Perhaps he might have added more, but the sound of footsteps on the -terrace above caught his ear, and he and Leonora at once turned to see -who approached. The steps were slow and deliberate, and were not -directed toward the spot where the young people sat; but they -instantly checked further conversation on the subjects previously -discussed, while from time to time each of the three gave a glance -toward two gentlemen who had just appeared upon the terrace. The one -was a man somewhat advanced in years, though not exactly what might be -called an old man. His hair and beard were very gray, it is true, but -his frame was not bent, and his step was still firm and stately. He -was richly dressed, and wore a large, heavy sword, of a somewhat -antique fashion. Lorenzo asked no questions concerning him, for he -knew him already as the grandfather of his young cousin, Bianca Maria. -The other was a younger man, dressed in black velvet, except where the -arms were seen from under the long hanging sleeves of his upper -garment, showing part of an under coat of cloth of silver. He was tall -and thin, and his face would have deserved the name of handsome had it -not been that the eyes, which were fine in themselves, and -overshadowed by strongly-marked eyebrows, were too close together, and -had a slight obliquity inward. It was not what could be absolutely -called a squint, but it gave a sinister expression to his countenance, -which was not relieved by a habit of keeping his teeth and lips -closely compressed, as if holding a rigid guard over what the tongue -might be inclined to utter. - -They took their way to the extreme end of the terrace, and then walked -back till they came on a line with the spot where the three young -people sat, still silent, for there is a freemasonry in youth that -loves not to have even its most trifling secrets laid bare to other -eyes, or its most innocent councils broken in upon. - -There the two gentlemen paused, and the younger seemed to end some -conversation which had been passing between them by saying, "I know -not much, Signor Rovera, of the history or views of other times, or -for what men lived and strove for in those days; but I do know, and -pretty well, the history of my own times, and the rules by which we -have to guide ourselves in them. If we have not ourselves power, we -must serve those who have power; and while we keep ourselves from what -you would call an evil will on our own part, we must not be over nice -in executing the will of those above us. Theirs is the deed, and -theirs the responsibility. The race of Sforza is not, methinks, a -higher or a better race than the race of Borgia. Both are peasants -compared to you or me, but the Borgias are rising, and destined to -rise high above us both; the Sforzas have risen, and are about to -fall, or I mistake the signs of the times. Men may play with a kitten -more safely than with a lion; and when Ludovico called this King of -France into Italy, he put his head in the wild beast's mouth." - -"Ah, that that were all!" exclaimed the old Count of Rovera. "I should -little care to see that wild beast close his heavy jaws upon the skull -of his inviter, if that would satisfy him; but Italy--what is to -become of Italy?" - -"God knows," answered the other drily. "She has taken so little care -of her children, that, good faith! they must take care of themselves -and let her do the same, my noble cousin. We are both too old to lose -much by her fall, and neither of us young enough to hope to see her -rise. Phoenixes are rare in these days, Signor Count. There," he -continued, pointing to the little group upon the steps, "there are -the only things that are likely to spring up, except corn, and -mulberry-trees, and such vegetables. Why, how the girl has grown -already! She is well-nigh a woman. She will need a husband soon, and -then baby-clothes, and so forth. I must speak with her. Leonora! -Leonora!" - -At the sound of his voice, Leonora, who had been sitting with her head -bent down and her eyes fixed upon the marble at her feet, sprang up -like a startled deer, and ran up the steps toward him; but when within -a step, she paused, and bent before him without speaking. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -"Who is that man?" asked Lorenzo Visconti in a low tone, while Leonora -stood before the stranger, silent and, as it were, subdued. - -"That is her father, Ramiro d'Orco," answered Bianca Maria; "he has -just returned from Romagna, I suppose; he has not been here for a -year, and I heard he was there." - -"Her father!" exclaimed the youth; "and is it so a child meets a -father? Oh God! had I a parent living who came back from a long -absence, how I should spring to receive his first caress! how the -first tone of his voice--the first sound of his footstep, would move -the whole blood within me. I do believe the very proximity of his -spirit would make my whole frame thrill, and I should know that he was -present before one of my senses assured me of the fact. My father! oh, -my father! could you rejoin your son, should I meet you as a stranger, -or bow before you as a ruler?" - -"It is not her fault, Lorenzo," said her cousin, eagerly, zealous in -her friend's cause; "I do not know how to tell you what he is, -Lorenzo. He is hard, yet not tyrannical; cold, yet not without -affection. There is no tenderness in him, yet he loves her better than -aught else on earth, except, I have heard my grandfather say, except -ambition. He is liberal to her, allowing her all she wants or wishes, -except, indeed, his tenderness and care. You and I are both orphans, -Lorenzo, and perhaps we let our fancy lead us to picture exaggerated -joy in the love and affection of parents." - -"I love him not, Bianca," answered the young man, with a slight -shudder; "there is something in his look which seems to chill the -blood in one's heart. I can see in that gaze which he bends upon her, -why it is her arms are not thrown round his neck, why her lips are not -pressed to his, why words of love and affection are not poured forth -upon her father when she meets him after a long absence. She is his -child, but he is not a father to her--perhaps a tyrant." - -"Oh, no, no!" answered the young girl; "he loves her--indeed he does, -and he does not tyrannize over her. But whether it is that there is a -natural coldness in his manner, or that he affects a certain Roman -hardness, I cannot tell; he only shows his love in indulging her in -everything she desires, without a tender look or tender word, such as -most fond fathers bestow upon a well-loved child." - -"And such a child!" said Lorenzo, musing. "Well, it is strange, -Bianca; perhaps he may love her truly, and more than many fathers whom -I have seen in France fondle their children as if their whole soul was -wrapped up in them, and then sacrifice their happiness to the merest -caprice--perhaps it may be so, and yet I do not like his looks. I -cannot like him. See how he gazes at us now! It is the gaze of a -serpent, cold, and hard, and stony. Who was her mother? She can have -gained no part of her nature from him." - -"Oh, no," cried the young girl, feeling all that he felt, though -unwilling to allow it; "she is like him in nothing, except, indeed, -the forehead and the shape of her face. Her mother was almost as -beautiful as she is. I remember well; it is not three years since she -died. She was a great heiress in the Ghiaradda. All she had was on her -marriage secured by the forms of law to herself and her children, and -they say he strove almost cruelly to make her give it up to him. After -her death he obtained possession of it, but not entirely for himself. -It was decided that he should possess it till Leonora married, making -suitable provision for her maintenance, but that, when she married, -the great estates at Castellano should go to her and her husband. My -grandfather, who was her mother's uncle, took much interest in the -matter, and for a time he and Signor d'Orco were at bitter enmity; but -when the case was decided, and it was found that Leonora's father -assigned her more for her portion than the law would have demanded, my -grandfather became convinced that he had striven only for what he -conceived a right, and became reconciled to him. Indeed, he is quite -liberal in all things concerning her; allows her the revenue of a -princess, and is himself a man of small expense; but it seems -his is an unbending nature. He lets her do what she wills in most -things--seldom thwarts her; but when he speaks his own will, there is -no appeal from it--neither to his heart nor his mind. I can often -persuade my grandfather, though he is quick and hasty, as you know, -and sometimes convince him, but it is of no use to try to do either -with Ramiro d'Orco." - -Lorenzo fancied he comprehended, at least in a degree, the character -which, in her youthful way, she strove to depict; but yet there was -something in the look of Leonora's father which left a dark, -unpleasant impression upon his mind. There are faces that we love not, -but which afford no apparent reason for the antipathy they produce. -There is often even beauty which we cannot admire--grace which affords -no pleasure. There is, perhaps, nothing more graceful upon earth than -the gliding of a snake, never for a moment quitting what the great -moral painter called "the line of beauty." There is nothing more rich -and resplendent than his jewelled skin, and yet how few men can gaze -upon the most gorgeous of that reptile race without a shuddering -sensation of its enmity to man? Can it be that in the breast of the -reasoning human creature, God, for a farther security than mere -intellect against a being that is likely to injure, implants an -instinct of approaching danger which no fairness of form, no -engagingness of manner can at first compensate? It may be so. At all -events, I have seen instances where something very like it was -apparent. And yet, with time, the impression wears away; the spirit -has spoken once its word of warning; if that word is not enough, it -never speaks again. The snake has the power of fascinating the bird -which, in the beginning, strove to escape from him; and we forget the -monitor which told us our danger. - -In an hour from that time Lorenzo was sitting at the same table with -Ramiro d'Orco, listening well pleased to searching and deep views of -the state of Italy, expressed, not indeed with eloquence, for he was -not an eloquent man, but with a force and point he had seldom heard -equalled. - -It would not be easy to give his words, for, even were they recorded, -they would lose their strength in the translation; but the substance -we know, and it would give a very different picture of Italy in that -day from any that can be drawn at present. We see it not alone dimmed -by the distance of time, but in a haze of our own prejudices. We may -gather, perhaps, the great results; but we can, I believe, in no -degree divine the motives, and most of the details are lost. Read the -history of any one single man in those days, as portrayed by modern -writers, and compare one author with another. Take for instance that -of Lorenzo de Medici, as carefully drawn by Roscoe, or brightly -sketched by Sismondi. What can be more different? The facts, indeed, -are the same, but how opposite are all the inferences. In both we have -the dry bones of the man, but the form of the muscle, and the hue of -the complexion are entirely at variance. Writers who undertake to -represent the things of a past age are like a painter required to -furnish portraits of persons long dead. Tradition may give them some -guidance as to the general outline, but the features and the colouring -will be their own. - -It is therefore with the great facts of the state of Italy at that -time that I will deal, as nearly in the view of Ramiro d'Orco as I -can; but it must be remembered that his view also was not without its -mistiness. If we cannot see early on account of the remoteness of the -objects which we contemplate, his vision also was indistinct, obscured -by the prejudices of class, interest, party, hope, apprehension, and -above all, ambition. He painted the condition of Italy only as Ramiro -d'Orco believed it to be. How much even of that belief was to be -ascribed to his own desires and objects, who can say? - -Lombardy, the great northern portion of Italy, indeed, had ever been -isolated from the rest in manners and habits of thought. Italians the -Lombards certainly were; but the characteristics of the northern -conquerors predominated in that portion of the peninsula. Except at -Genoa and in Venice, republicanism in no shape had taken any deep -root. From very early times, although the voice of the people had -occasionally proclaimed a republic here and there, the babe was -strangled ere it got strength, even by those that gave it birth. The -epoch of democratic independence in Lombardy lasted barely a century -and a half. No republic flourished long north of the River Po, except -those I have named, and even the two which took some glory from the -name little deserved it. Less real liberty was known in Venice than -perhaps existed under the most grinding tyranny of a single man; and -Genoa, in her most palmy days, was a prey to aristocratic factions, -which soon made the people but slaves to princes. But it must not be -supposed that nothing was obtained in return: a more chivalrous and -warlike spirit existed in that division of Italy than in the central -portion. It was not so early refined, but it was not so speedily -softened. Corrupt it might be, and indeed was, to even a fearful -degree; but it was the corruption of the hard and the daring, rather -than of the weak and effeminate. Men poisoned, and slew, and tortured -each other, and the minds of all became so familiar with blood and -horror, that much was endured before resistance to oppression was -excited; but conspiracies were generally successful in their primary -object, because the conspirators were bold and resolute. A tyrant -might fall only to give place to another tyrant, but still he fell; -and you rarely saw in Lombardy such weakness as was displayed in the -enterprise of the Pazzi. - -Men in the north fought openly in the field for counties, and -marquisates, and dukedoms; but there was little finesse or diplomatic -skill displayed except by Venice. There was cunning, indeed, but it -was always exercised to gain some military advantage. The ambition of -that part of the land was warlike, not peaceful. It was not luxury, -and ease, and graceful enjoyment that was desired in combination with -power, but it was splendour, and pomp, and domination. Weak tyrants -were sure to fall; merely cruel ones generally retained their power; -and cunning ones were frequently successful; but it was only by -wielding the sword, either by their own hands or those of others. - -At the time in which Ramiro d'Orco spoke, every vestige of liberty was -extinct in Lombardy. The Visconti, and after them the Sforzi, in -Milan; the house of Della Scala, and after them the Visconti, in -Verona; the Gonzagas in Mantua; the D'Estes in Ferrara; the Carraras -in Padua; the Bentivogli in Bologna, and a hundred other princely -houses, had attained power by both policy and the sword, and Genoa had -passed frequently from anarchy to subjection, and subjection to -anarchy. But the great military school of Alberic de Barbiano had -raised up a vigorous and healthy spirit in the people, which, had it -lasted, would have secured to both Romagna and Lombardy strength to -resist foreign enemies, even if it could not control intestine -divisions. But the great company of St. George, founded by Barbiano, -was succeeded by two others, who, though they possessed all the energy -of their predecessors, and were led by men of very superior abilities, -were merely the companies of adventurous soldiers known as the -Bracceschi and Sforzeschi. Their swords were at the command of those -who could pay them best, and their leaders were men who sought to -found dynasties upon military success. In this object Braccio de -Montana failed. He was mortally wounded at Aquila in 1424, and his -formidable band gradually dispersed, after having passed under the -command of several others. Though Sforza perished in passing the -Pescara ere he attained the power at which he aimed, the object was -accomplished by his son Francesco, who established himself in the -ducal throne of Milan. - -Thus, at the time when Ramiro d'Orco spoke, in 1494, the whole of -Lombardy was under the domination of various princes, commonly and not -unjustly called tyrants; but the chivalrous spirit of the people was -by no means extinct; and even the course of the arts showed the -tendency of the popular mind. It is true, Milan itself was more famous -for the manufacture and even the invention of arms than for the fine -arts, but in the pictures of that country during this and the -preceding centuries saints and martyrs, angels and demons, are -frequently represented in knightly harness, and in some it would be -difficult to distinguish the messenger of peace from one of the -terrible legionaries of the great companies. - -It seemed, indeed, as if Lombardy had returned to its normal feudal -notions, in which chivalry was inseparably attached to monarchy and -aristocracy. - -The central states of Italy clung to republican forms of government -long after they had been extinguished in the north; but it was -republicanism founded upon wealth, not upon purity of character or -simplicity of manners--no, nor upon real patriotism. A celebrated -writer of late days has spoken of "the virtue of Florence" in this -very century. Let us see how that virtue was depicted by the best -judges of the times of which he, at this late day, speaks. "I never -imagined," said Piero de Medici, father of Lorenzo, on his death-bed, -addressing the chief citizens of Florence, "that times would come when -the conduct of my friends would force me to esteem and long for the -society of my enemies, and wish that I had been defeated instead of -victorious." He then went on to reproach them with their vices and -their crimes. "You rob your neighbours of their wealth," he said, "you -sell justice, you evade the law, you oppress the weak, and exalt the -insolent. There are not, throughout all Italy, so many and such -dreadful examples of violence and avarice as in this city." - -Again Machiavelli describes the youth of Florence as having become -"more dissolute than ever, more extravagant in dress, feasting and -other licentiousness," and says that, "being without employment they -wasted their time and means on gaming and women, their principal care -being how to appear splendid in apparel, and obtain a crafty -shrewdness in discourse." Nor can I look upon the persevering efforts -of that republic to subjugate all the neighbouring cities as a proof -of virtue or of love of liberty. - -Their military virtues seem to have been upon a par with their -domestic qualities. Their battles were fought by hired mercenaries, -and where the Florentine forces did appear in the field, they -apparently merited the reproach which Machiavelli casts upon the -military in general of the central and southern portions of Italy. In -describing the campaign of 1467, he says, "A few slight skirmishes -took place, but in accordance with the custom of the time, neither of -them acted on the offensive, besieged any town, or gave the other any -opportunity of coming to a general battle; but each kept within its -tents, and they conducted themselves with the most remarkable -pusillanimity." Indeed, his description of all the battles in which -none of the great condottieri were engaged, is merely ludicrous. -Moreover, the political virtues of the people seem, at this time at -least, not to have surpassed those of the heart and mind. Florence had -the name of a republic, but its government was in reality an -oligarchy. There is a consciousness in man that persons whose time is -devoted to daily labour have not those opportunities of mental -culture, and that leisure for deep thought, which alone can fit men -for the task of leading and governing. However strong may be -democratic sentiment, however jealously tenacious of the name of -equality citizens may be, there is, in the natural course of all -communities, a tendency to produce an aristocracy. In the warring -elements of a political chaos, the first efforts of order are to -resolve the people into classes--nay, into castes. The hatred of -hereditary authority generally directs these efforts to elevate riches -to the highest place. The wealthy, in whom one sort of pre-eminence is -already obvious, are not so obnoxious at first sight as those who have -no real source of influence but the intangible one of birth; and thus -from republics, founded frequently upon purely democratic principles, -generally rises the most hateful and debasing of all aristocracies, -the aristocracy of wealth. This had long been the case with Florence -at the time I speak of: wealth was nobility, and that nobility was -rapidly tending toward monarchy. Lorenzo de Medici had exercised until -his death, in April, 1492, an anomalous sovereignty, denied the -character of prince of a monarchical state, and yet divested of the -restraints of a magistrate of a free people. He was addressed by all -public bodies and all private persons as "Most Magnificent Lord," and -swayed the destinies of the country, influenced the character of the -people, and deeply affected the fate of all Italy, without any legal -right or actual station. His was solely a monarchy of influence, and, -though even Cromwell felt the necessity of giving to his power the -sanction of a name, Lorenzo ruled his countrymen till his death in the -character of a citizen. - -The south of Italy had in the mean time passed through several phases, -and the monarchical element had long predominated in its government. -The only question was to whom it should belong. Foreign families -struggled for the often contested throne; and Italians then only drew -their swords or raised their voices in favour of one or another -usurper. The destinies of the north and the south were sealed; and in -Tuscany no wide field was offered for ambition. A man might raise -himself to a certain degree by subservience to some powerful prince, -but he must continue to serve that prince, or he fell, and would never -aspire to independent domination where hereditary power was recognised -by the people, and lay at the foundation of all acknowledged -authority. It was alone in central Italy, and especially in Romagna -and in the States of the Church--where a principle antagonistic to all -hereditary claims existed in the very nature of the Papal power--that -any adventurer could hope, either by his individual genius or courage, -or by services rendered to those who already held authority, to raise -himself to independent rule, or to that station which was only -attached to a superior by the thin and nearly worn-out thread of -feudal tenure. - -"Those who would find fortune," said Ramiro d'Orco, "such fortune as -Francesco Sforza conquered and the Medici attained must seek it at -Rome. There is the field, the only field still open to the bold -spirit, the strong, unwavering heart, the keen and clear-seeing -mind--there is the table on which the boldest player is sure to win -the most. With every change of the papacy, new combinations, and, -consequently, new opportunities must arise, and, thanks to the wise -policy of the College of Cardinals, those changes must be frequent. A -man there may, as elsewhere, be required to serve in order at length -to command; but if he do not obtain power at length, it is his fault -or Fortune's, and in either case he must abide the consequences. Good -night, Signor Rovera." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -"What is it, dear girl?--Let me think?" said Leonora to her young -cousin. They sat in a small ante-room between their sleeping chambers, -which gave entrance from the corridor to each. - -"And what would you think of, Leonora?" asked Bianca, laughing -wickedly. - -Leonora gazed from the window, whence was seen the garden below bathed -in moonlight, with faint glimpses of the distant country, and the -sparkle of the rays upon the fountain whose voice came murmuring up. -She did not answer, but continued silent, with her cheek resting on -her hand, and her arm upon the sill of the window. - -"I know right well whom you are thinking of," said Bianca, bending -down her head so as to gaze upon the beautiful face. - -"Not you," said Leonora; "I am thinking of my father; and how strange -it is that he who loves me well, I know, should show his love so -little." - -"Can you think of two things at once, Leonora?" asked her cousin, "for -I know one thing you are thinking of, and you tell me of another. You -are thinking of Lorenzo Visconti; and how strange it is that you, who -love him well, have not the heart to own it to yourself." - -"Go, go, you are a silly child," answered Leonora, "you cannot know -what love is, nor I either, except love for your parents or your -kinsfolk. I think not of Lorenzo Visconti; he is a comely youth, and -pleasant in his conversation; but he will go hence in a day, forget me -in another, and I him before the third evening comes. You want to make -me fall in love with him, but I tell you, Blanche, you will tire me of -him." - -"Faith, I do not want you to love him," replied Bianca, "for I am half -in love with him myself, and can't spare him--only, you know, there is -one obstacle." - -"Well, well, go and sleep over it," replied Leonora, "then rise -to-morrow, and whisper gently in his ear that, if he will but wait a -year or two--this loving land and warm climate notwithstanding--he can -wed the beautiful heiress of the house of Rovera, and--but what -obstacle do you talk of, Blanche?" - -"The Church! the Church!" replied the other girl; "we are full -cousins, you know, Leonora--within the forbidden degrees. My mother's -eldest sister was his mother." - -"But a poor obstacle," answered Leonora; "one of the two bags of the -Church is always open to take in gold, and the other to let out -dispensations." - -"Yes: but somehow I can never look on him as aught else but a cousin," -replied Bianca--"a sort of brother. As such I love him well; but as I -said, I am only half in love with him---a fraternal love, which is a -half love, I suppose. I do not know much about it; but I do not judge -I could let him kiss me so coolly if I loved him any better. Bless my -poor heart, Leonora, we were boy and girl together when we were in -Florence, and were we to marry, I should always think him playfellow -instead of husband. But I'll to bed and sleep; I have nothing to keep -me awake. You go to bed and sleep, if you can. I know you, Leonora." - -"No, you do not," murmured her cousin; "but I shall sit up and look at -the moonlight for a time." - -"And wish that the nightingale had not ceased to sing true-love -ditties," replied Bianca gaily. "Well, good night. Leave the doors -open, that I may hear if you sigh about Lorenzo in your sleep." - -Bianca, or, as the French called her, Blanche Marie, then left her -gaily, and with a light heart was soon asleep. Leonora d'Orco sat -quite still by the window, and gazed forth. All was still and -tranquil. The air was clear and soft, and yet there seemed a sort of -haze--a haze of brightness over the landscape. Have you never -remarked, reader, especially in southern climates, that the moon -sometimes pours forth her pale rays in such profusion that it seems as -if a mist of light spread over the scene? So was it at that moment; -and though the nightingale, as Blanche Marie had said, no longer -trilled his summer song, yet every now and then a note or two from his -sweet voice burst upon the ear--a song, begun as if in memory, and -broken off as if in despair. The time of love was past, and he could -sing no more; but the remembrance of happy days woke up under the warm -autumn splendour, and a few short plaintive notes came welling from -the fountains of regret. - -Of what was the young maiden thinking? What feelings woke up in her -bosom under that bright moon? - -What harmonious chord vibrated in her bosom to the broken tones of the -solitary songster of the night? - -Gaze down into a deep, deep well, reader, and if you gaze long enough, -you will catch an uncertain gleam of light, you know not whence, -glistening upon the surface of waters below you; but you cannot fathom -those waters with the eye, nor see aught that they cover; and so it is -with the heart of woman to those who would scan it from a distance. If -you would know what is beneath, plunge down into its depths, torch in -hand; you may perish, but you will know all that can be known of that -most deep, mysterious thing. - -At length there was the sound of a light footstep on the terrace -beneath, and Leonora started and listened. The foot that produced the -sound was still distant, and she quietly glided through the open door -into her cousin's chamber. Blanche Marie was already sleeping -peacefully, the light covering hardly veiling the contour of the young -beautiful limbs, the hair already escaped from the net intended to -restrain it, and the white uncovered arm cast negligently under the -warm, rosy cheek. Her breathing was soft, and low, and even, and the -half-open lips showed the pearly teeth between. - -"How beautiful she is!" murmured Leonora; "and how sweet and gentle -she looks! So looked Psyche;" and with a noiseless step she left the -room, and closed the door behind her. - -She took her seat near the window again, behind the rich deep -moulding, as if she would see without being seen; but the lighted -taper on the table cast her shadow across without her knowing it; and -there she sat, and once more listened. The step was very, very near -now, and the next instant it stopped beneath the window. Then came a -silent pause for a moment, and Leonora's heart beat. - -"Bianca," said the voice of Lorenzo, "is that you, dear cousin?" - -Leonora was strongly tempted to say yes, but yet she felt ashamed of -the positive falsehood, and, with a sort of compromise with -conscience, she answered, almost in a whisper: - -"Hush! speak low." - -"Which is Leonora's chamber?" asked the voice again. - -"Why?" demanded the young girl, in the same low tone, but with strange -sensations in her bosom. - -"I wish to sing to her," answered the youth, "and to tell her all I -dared not tell this evening. I am ordered to Pavia early to-morrow, -dear cousin, and must leave you to plead my cause, but I would fain -say one word for myself first." - -Oh, how Leonora's heart beat. - -"Then it is not Bianca," she murmured to herself; "it is not Bianca. -The next room on your right," she answered, still speaking low; but -suddenly there came upon her a feeling of shame for the deception, and -she added, "What is it you would say, Lorenzo? Leonora is here; Bianca -has been sleeping for an hour. But don't sing, and speak low. Signor -Rovera's apartments are close by." - -But Lorenzo would not heed the warning; and though he did not raise -his voice to its full power, he sang, in a sweet, low tone, a little -canzonetta, which had much currency some few years before in Florence: - - - "What time the Greek, in days of yore, - Bent down his own, fair work before, - He woke the echoes of the grove - With words like these, 'Oh, could she love!' - - "Heaven heard the sculptor's wild desire; - Love warmed the statue with its fire; - But when he saw the marble move, - He asked, still fearful, 'Will she love?' - - "She loved--she loved; and wilt thou be - More cold, Madonna, unto me? - Then hear my song, and let me prove - If you can love--if you can love." - - -"Songs are false--men are falser, Lorenzo," answered Leonora, bending -a little from the window: "you will sing that canzonetta to the next -pretty eye you see." - -"It will be Leonora's then," answered the youth. "Can you not come -down, dear Leonora, and let me hear my fate under the olive-trees? I -fear to tell you all I feel in this place, lest other ears should be -listening. Oh! come down, for I must go hence by daybreak to-morrow." - -"Oh! do not go so soon," murmured Leonora; "I will be down and on the -terrace by daybreak; but to-night--no, no, Lorenzo, I cannot, for very -maiden shame, come down to-night. There, take my glove, Lorenzo, and -if I find you still wear it for my sake when next we meet, I shall -know--and then, perhaps--perhaps I will tell you more. But there is -some one coming--fly! fly!--the other way. He is coming from the east -end of the terrace." - -"I never turned my back on friend or foe," answered Lorenzo, turning -to confront the new comer. - -Leonora drew back from the window and put out the light, but she -listened with eager ears. "It was very like my father's figure," she -thought; "his height, his walk, but yet, methinks, stouter. Hark! that -is not his voice--one of the servants, perhaps." - -The next instant there was a clash of steel, and she ran anxiously to -the window. At some twenty yards distance she saw Lorenzo, sword in -hand, defending himself against a man apparently much more powerful -than himself. For a moment or two she gazed, bewildered, and not -knowing what to do. Lorenzo at first seemed to stand entirely on the -defensive; but soon his blood grew hot, and, in answer to his -adversary's lunge, he lunged again; but the other held a dagger in his -left hand, and with it easily parried the blade. The next pass she saw -her lover stagger. She could bear no more, and, running down, she -screamed aloud to wake the servants, who slept near the hall. An old -man, a porter, was still dozing in a chair, and started up, -exclaiming: - -"What is it; what is it, signorina?" - -"Haste! haste! Bring your halbert!" cried Leonora, pulling back slowly -the great heavy door, and running down the steps; "there is murder -about." - -She fancied she should behold Lorenzo already fallen before his more -vigorous enemy; but, on the contrary, he was now pressing him hard -with an agility and vigour which outweighed the strength of maturity -on the part of the other. All was as clear in the bright moonlight as -if the sun had been shining; and, as Leonora sprung forward, she -beheld, or thought she beheld, her lover's assailant gain some -advantage. Lorenzo was pressed back along the terrace towards the spot -where she stood. He seemed to fly, though still with his face to his -adversary, but he had been well disciplined to arms in Italy as well -as France, and knew every art of defence or assault. The space between -him and his foe increased till he nearly reached the young girl's -side, and then, with a sudden bound, like that of a lion, he sprang -upon his enemy and passed his guard. What followed Leonora could not -see; it was all the work of a moment; but the next instant she beheld -the elder man raise his hand as if to strike with his dagger, drop it -again, and fall back heavily upon the terrace. - -Lorenzo leaned upon his sword, and seemed seeking to recover breath, -while Leonora ran up to him, asking, "Are you hurt; are you hurt, -Lorenzo?" - -Ere he could answer there were many people around them. No house in -Italy was unaccustomed to such scenes in those days. Indeed, scenes -much more terrible habituated everybody, servants, masters, retinue, -to wake at the first call, and to have everything ready for resistance -and defence. A number of the attendants poured forth from the door she -had left open, some with useless torches lighted, some with arms in -their hands. Then came her father, Ramiro d'Orco, and last, the old -Count Rovera himself, while Blanche Marie appeared at the window -above, eagerly asking what had befallen. - -No one answered her, but the Signor d'Orco advanced calmly to the side -of the fallen man, gazed at him for a moment, and then turned to -Lorenzo, asking, "Is he dead?" - -"I know not," replied the young man, sheathing his sword. - -"Who is he?" demanded Ramiro again. - -"Neither know I that," said the youth; "he attacked me unprovoked as I -walked here upon the terrace in the moonlight; but I never saw his -face before, that I know of." - -"Walked and sang," answered Ramiro, drily. "Perhaps he did not like -your music, Signor Visconti." - -"Probably," replied the youth, quite calmly. "It was but poor, and yet -not worth killing a man for. Besides, as it was not intended for him, -but for a lady, it could give him no offence." - -"Not quite clear logic that, good youth," answered Ramiro. "Do any of -you know this man?" he continued, turning to the servants. - -"Not I;" "not I," answered several; but the old Count of Rovera bent -down his head toward the man's face, waving the rest away that the -moonlight might fall upon him. "Why, this is Pietro Buondoni, of -Ferrara;" he exclaimed; "an attendant on Count Ludovico, and a great -favorite. What could induce him to attack you, Lorenzo?" - -"I know not, sir," replied Lorenzo; "I never set eyes on him before. -He called me a French hound, and, ere I could answer him, he had -nearly run me through the body. I had hardly time to draw." - -"Well, bear him in--bear him in," said the old lord; "though I judge -from his look he will not attack any one again. Did I not see Leonora -here?" - -But by this time she was gone, and Lorenzo took care not to answer. As -he followed the rest into the villa, however, he stooped to pick up -something from the ground. What if it were a lady's glove! - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -The servants bore Buondoni into the great hall; but it was in vain -they attempted for a moment or two to rouse him into consciousness -again. There was no waking from the sleep that was upon him. Lorenzo's -sword, thrust home, had passed through and through his body, piercing -his heart as it went. Very different were the sensations of the -different persons who gazed upon his great, powerful limbs and -handsome face, as he lay in death before them. Ramiro d'Orco could -hardly be said to feel anything. It was a sight which he had looked on -often. Death, in the abstract, touched him in no way. To see a man -take any one of his ordinary meals or die was the same to him. It was -an incident in the world's life--no more. He had no weak sympathies, -no thrilling sensibilities, no fanciful shudderings at the extinction -of human life. A man was dead--that was all. In that man he had no -personal interests. He knew him not. There had been no likelihood that -he ever would know him; if anything, less probability that that man -could ever have served him, and therefore there seemed nothing to -regret. Neither had there been any chance that Buondini could ever -have injured him, therefore there could be no matter for rejoicing; -but yet, if anything, there was a curious feeling of satisfaction, -rather than otherwise, in his breast. Death--the death of others--was -a thing not altogether displeasing to him. He knew not why it was so, -and perhaps it sometimes puzzled him, for he had been known to say, -when he heard a passing-bell. "Well, there is one man less in the -world! There are fools enough left." - -Old men grow hardened to such things, and in the ordinary course of -nature, as their own days become less and less, as life with them -becomes more and more a thing of the past, they estimate the death of -others, as they would estimate their own approaching fate, but -lightly. The old Count Rovera looked with but very little feeling upon -the dead man; but he thought of his young relation Lorenzo, and of -what might be the consequences to him. At first, when he remembered -that this man had been a great favourite with Ludovic the Moor, and -thus another offence had been offered by a Visconti to a Sforza, he -entertained some fears for the youth's safety. But then the -recollection of the King of France's powerful protection gave him more -confidence, and his sympathies went no farther. - -The feelings of Lorenzo himself were very different; but as they were -such as would be experienced by most young men unaccustomed to -bloodshed in looking for the first time upon an enemy slain by their -own hands, we need not dwell much upon them. There was the shuddering -impression which the aspect of death always makes upon young, -exuberant life. There was the natural feeling of regret at having -extinguished that which we can never reillume. There was that curious, -almost fearful inquiry which springs up in the thoughtful mind at the -sight of the dead, when our eyes are not much accustomed to it, "What -is life?" - -While he was still gazing, one of the servants touched the old count's -arm and whispered something to him, "Ha!" cried Rovera; "I am told, -Lorenzo, you received a letter to-night, which was sent up to your -room by one of your men, after we all parted. It was not a challenge, -perchance? If so, you should have chosen some other place for your -meeting than our terrace." - -"It was not so, sir," replied Lorenzo, promptly. "I had no previous -quarrel with the man. The letter was from his Majesty King Charles. -Here it is; you can satisfy yourself." - -"My eyes are dim," said the old man; "read it Ramiro." - -The Lord of Orco took the paper, and read while one of the servants -held a flambeau near. - - -"Well-beloved Cousin"--so ran the note--"It has pleased us to bestow -on you the troop of our ordnance, become vacant by the death of -Monsieur de Moustier. We march hence speedily, and the Seigneur de -Vitry proceeds to-night toward Pavia. As he will not be able to depart -till late in the day, we judge it best to advise you, in order to your -preparation, that he will halt near the Villa Rovera for an hour -to-morrow early, and that we expect you will accompany him on his -march without delay. Fail not as you would merit our favour. - - "CHARLES." - - -Ramiro read the letter aloud, and then, without any comment on the -contents, remarked: - -"You have left the impress of your thumb in blood upon the king's -missive, Signor Visconti; you are wounded, mayhap." - -"Ah! a scratch--a mere scratch in my right shoulder," answered -Lorenzo; "I could not completely parry one of his first thrusts, and -he touched me, but it is nothing." - -"Oh, you are hurt, Lorenzo! you are hurt!" cried Bianca Maria, who had -come down from her chamber, and was standing behind the little circle -which had gathered round the dead man. - -"Get you to bed, child!" said the old count sharply; "these are no -matters for you. Your cousin has but a scratch. Get you to bed, girl, -I say; this is a pretty pass, that two men cannot fight without having -all the women in the house for witnesses!" - -In the mean time Ramiro d'Orco had raised the left hand of the dead -man, in which was still firmly clasped his poniard--his sword had -fallen out of the right when he fell--and, taking a torch from one of -the servants, he gazed along the blade. - -"This dagger is grooved for poison, Conte," he said, addressing his -host in the same quiet, indifferent tone he generally used; "better -look to the young gentleman's wound." - -"I thank you, sir," replied Lorenzo; "but it came from his sword, not -his poniard. I will retire and let my men stanch the bleeding." - -"Better, at all events, apply some antidote," said Ramiro; "a little -parsley boiled will extract most poisons, unless they remain too long. -It were well to attend to it speedily." - -"Well, I will go," replied Lorenzo; "but, I call Heaven to witness, I -have no blame in this man's death. He attacked me unprovoked, and I -killed him in self-defence." - -"We must take measures to discover how this came about," said the -count, thoughtfully. "Buondoni cannot have come here unattended." - -"Better perchance let it rest," said Ramiro d'Orco, "there may be -motives at the bottom of the whole affair that were not well brought -to the surface. I have gathered little from tonight's discourse of -this youth's history; but he is a Visconti, and that alone may make -him powerful enemies, who had better still be his enemies than yours, -father." - -"I fear them not," replied the old nobleman; "let diligent inquiry be -made around and on the road to Pavia for any stranger arrived this -night. Now, Ramiro, come with me for awhile, and we will talk farther. -Lights, boys, on there in my cabinet. You are in your night gear, -signor; but I will not keep you long ere I let you to your slumbers -again." - -"They will be my first slumbers," answered Ramiro. "I had not closen -an eye when I heard talking, and singing, and then clashing of -swords--no unusual combinations in our fair land, Signor Rovera." - -As he spoke he followed the old count into a small, beautiful room, -every panel of which held a picture, of great price then, and -invaluable now as specimens of the first revival of art. When they -were seated and the doors closed, the elder man fell into a fit of -thought, though he had invited the conference, and Ramiro d'Orco spoke -first. - -"Who is this young Visconti?" he asked; "and how comes the King of -France to give him cousinship?" - -"Why, he is the son of that Carlo Visconti who stabbed Galeazzo -Sforza," answered the count, "and was killed in the church. The boy -was carried by some of his relations to his godfather, Lorenzo de -Medici, and educated by him." - -"Then 'tis Ludovic's doing," said Ramiro; "he has sent this man to -make away with him, though that was a bad return for his father's kind -act in lifting him to power. By my faith he should have raised and -honoured the boy. That good stroke of a dagger was worth three -quarters of a dukedom to the good prince. But I suppose, from all I -learn, that the youth is now trying adventure as a soldier." - -"Soldier he is under the King of France," answered the old man; "but -an adventurer he hardly can be called, for he has large estates in -Tuscany. When Ludovic seized the regency, he was fain to court Lorenzo -de Medici for support, and right willingly he agreed to change the -estates of his brother's executioner for the lands which his father -Francesco had obtained in gratuity from Florence. No, he is wealthy -enough, and if he serves, it is but for honour or ambition." - -"But how is he cousin to the King of France?" asked Ramiro; "it is a -cousinship of much value as events are passing nowadays." - -"Why, do you not recollect?" asked the old man, somewhat testily, -"that Valentina Visconti married Louis, brother of Charles the Sixth -of France, grandfather of the present Duke of Orleans, who will one -day be King of France too, if the marriage of this young king be -sterile. Three years have passed without any prospect of another heir, -and then the future of this youth, is bright indeed." - -"It is," answered Ramiro; and, after a moment's thought, he added, "I -suppose you intend to marry him to your granddaughter?" - -"Good sooth, they may do as they like, Ramiro," answered the old man. -"I have made marriages for my children, and seen none of them happy or -successful. Some remorse--at least regret--lies in the thought. I have -but this child left for all kindred, and she shall make her marriage -for herself. I may give advice, but will use no compulsion. In truth, -I one time sought her union with Lorenzo, for he is not only full of -promise, rich, noble, allied to royal houses both of France and -England, but, with high spirit, there is allied in him a tenderness -and love but rarely found. I marked it in him early, when he was page -to that magnificent prince his godfather. The other lads, who loved or -seemed to love him, were sure to prosper through his advocacy of -merits less than his own. In furtherance of my wish, I had Bianca -brought up with him in Florence; but, like an unskilful archer, I fear -I have overshot my mark. The one is as a brother to the other; and I -believe she would as soon marry her brother as Lorenzo. On his part I -know not what the feelings are. He seems to love her well, but still -with love merely fraternal, if one may judge by eyes and looks. I've -seen more fire in one glance at Leonora than in poor Lorenzo's life -was given to any other. But this unfortunate fight may breed mischief, -I fear. If Ludovic sent the man to kill him, he will not soon be off -the track of blood. Thank Heaven! he is soon going on." - -"I think there is no fear," replied Ramiro, "unless Buondoni's blade -was well anointed. Ludovic is too wise to follow him up too fiercely. -We may run down our game eagerly enough upon our own lands, but do not -carry the chase into the lands of another, Signor Rovera." - -"As soon as Lorenzo can rejoin the King of France, he is safe," -rejoined the Count, "and methinks, till then, I can take care of him. -I know the look of a poisoner or assassin at a street's distance. Only -let us look to his wound; I have known one of the same scratches end a -good strong man's life in a few hours." - -"So say I," answered Ramiro, "but I will go out and walk upon the -terrace. I feel not disposed to sleep. If you should want me, call me -in. I know something of poisons and their antidotes; I studied them -when I was in Padua; for, in this life, no one knows how often one may -be called upon to practise such chirurgy on his own behalf." - -Thus saying, he left the Count de Rovera, and while the other, half -dressed as he was, hurried up to Lorenzo's chamber, Ramiro, with his -usual calm and almost noiseless step, went forth and walked the -terrace up and down. For more than an hour he paced it from end to -end, with all his thoughts turned inward. "A distant cousin of this -King of France," he thought, "and almost german to his apparent heir! -Wealthy himself and full of high courage! The lad must rise--ay, high, -high! He has it in his look. Such are the men upon whose rising -fortunes one should take hold, and be carried up with them. It was -surely Leonora's voice I heard talking with him from the windows. If -so, fortune has arranged all well; yet one must be careful--no too -rapid steps. We fly from that which seeks us--run after that which -flies. I will mark them both well, and shut my eyes, and let things -take their course, or else raise some small difficulties, soon -overleaped, to give the young lover fresh ardour in the chase. Pity he -is so young--and yet no pity either. It will afford us time to see how -far he reaches." - -With such thoughts as these he occupied himself so deeply that his -eyes were seldom raised from the ground on which he trod. At length, -however, he looked up toward the windows; and there was one in which -the lights still burned, while figures might be seen, from time to -time, passing across. - -"That must be his chamber," said Ramiro to himself. "I fear the blade -was poisoned, and that it has had some effect. I must go and see. -'Twere most unlucky such a chance should escape me. Let me see; where -is that snake-stone I had? It will extract the venom," and, entering -the house, he mounted the stairs rapidly to Lorenzo's chamber. - -He found him sick indeed. The whole arm and shoulder were greatly -swollen; and while the old count stood beside his bed with a look of -anxious fear, a servant held the young man up to ease his troubled -respiration. Lorenzo's face seemed that of a dying man--the features -pale and sharp, the eye dull and glassy. - -"Send for a clerk," said the youth; "there is no time for notaries; -but I wish my last testament taken down and witnessed." - -"Cheer up, cheer up, my good young friend," said Ramiro. "What! you -are very sick; the blade was poisoned, doubtless." - -"It must be so," said the young man, faintly; "I feel it in every -vein." - -"Well, well, fear not," answered Ramiro; "I have that at hand which -will soon draw out the poison. Here man," he continued, speaking to -one of the attendants, who half filled the room, "run to my chamber. -On the stool near the window you will find a leathern bag; bring it -to me with all speed. You, sir, young page, speed off to the buttery, -and bring some of the strongest of the water of life which the house -affords. It killed the King of Navarre, they say, but it will help to -give life to you, Lorenzo." - -"The bottigliere will not let me have it, sir," replied the boy. - -"Here, take my ring," said the old count; "make haste--make haste!" - -The boy had hardly left the room, when the servant first despatched -returned with the leathern bag for which he had been sent. It was soon -opened, and, after some search, Ramiro took forth a small packet, and -unfolded rapidly paper after paper, which covered apparently some very -precious thing within, speaking quietly as he did so: - -"This is one of those famous snake-stones," he said, "which, when a -man is bitten by any reptile, be it as poisonous as the Egyptian asp, -will draw forth the venom instantly from his veins. Heaven knows, but -I know not, whether it is a natural substance provided for the cure of -one of nature's greatest evils, or some cunningly invented mithridate -compounded by deep science. I bought it at a hundred times its weight -in gold from an old and renowned physician at Padua; and it is as -certain a cure for the case of a poisoned dagger-wound as for the bite -of a snake. Ah! here it is! have bare the place where the sword -entered." - -"Pity it came not a little sooner," said Lorenzo's servant, taking off -some bandages from his master's shoulder; "physic is late for a dying -man." - -Ramiro d'Orco gave him a look that seemed to pierce him like a dagger, -for the man drew back as if he had been struck, and almost suffered -his master to fall back upon the bed. - -"Hold him up, fool!" said Ramiro, sternly; and, holding the wound, -which had been stanched, wide open with one hand till the blood began -to flow again, he placed what seemed a small brownish stone, hardly -bigger than a pea, in the aperture, and then bound the bandages -tightly round the spot. - -"That boy comes not," he said; "some of you run and hasten him." - -But ere his orders could be obeyed the page returned, with a large -silver flagon and a Venice glass on a salver. - -"Now, Signor Visconti, drink this," said Ramiro, filling a glass and -applying it to his lips. - -Lorenzo drank, murmuring,--"It is like fire." - -"So is life," answered Ramiro; "but you must drink three times, with a -short interval. How feel you now?" - -"Sick, sick, and faint," replied Lorenzo. But some lustre had already -come back into his eye; and after a short pause, Ramiro refilled the -glass, saying, - -"Here, drink again." - -The young man seemed to swallow more easily than before, and, in a -moment or two after he had drunk, he said in a low voice, - -"I feel better. That stone, or whatever it is, seems as it were -sucking out the burning heat from the wound. I breathe more freely, -too." - -"All is going well," replied Ramiro. "One more draught, and, though -you be not cured, and must remain for days, perchance, in your -chamber, the enemy is vanquished. You shall have cheerful faces and -sweet voices round you to soothe your confinement; but you must be -very still and quiet, lest the poison, settling in the wound itself, -though we have drawn it from the heart, should beget gangrene. Bianca, -your dear cousin, and my child Leonora, shall attend you. Here, drink -again." - -Lorenzo felt that with such sweet nurses he would not mind his wound; -but the third draught revived him more than all. His voice regained -its firmness, his eye its light. The sobbing, hard-drawn respiration -gave way to easy, regular breathing; and, after a few minutes, he -said, - -"I feel almost well, and think I could sleep." - -"All goes aright," said Ramiro; "you may sleep now in safety. That -marvellous stone has already drawn into itself all the deadly venom -that had spread through your whole blood. Nothing is wanting but quiet -and support. Some one sit by him while he sleeps; and if perchance he -wakes, give him another draught out of this tankard. Let us all go -now, and leave him to repose." - -"I will sit by him, signor," said the man who had been supporting him; -"for there be some who would not leave a drop in the tankard big -enough to drown a flea, and I have sworn never to taste _aqua vitæ_ -again, since it nearly burst my head open at Rheims, in France." - -Before he had done speaking Lorenzo was sound asleep; and while the -servant let his head drop softly on the pillow, the rest silently -quitted the room. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -A few hours earlier on the day of which we have just been speaking, a -gallant band of men-at-arms rode forward on the highway between Milan -and Pavia. It consisted of nearly four hundred lances, that is to say, -of about eight hundred men. Had it been complete, the number would -have amounted to many more, for the usual proportion was at least -three inferior soldiers, esquires, or pages to each lance; but the -eagerness of the young King of France to achieve what he believed -would be an easy conquest had hurried his departure from France ere -his musters were one half filled. - -A short repose in Milan had sufficed to wipe away all stains of travel -from his host; and the band of the Lord of Vitry appeared in all their -accoutrements, what Rosalind calls "point device." It is true, the day -had been somewhat dry and sultry, and some dust had gathered upon -splendid surcoats, and scarfs, and sword-knots; and the horses, so gay -and full of spirit in the morning, now looked somewhat fatigued, but -by no means jaded. - -At their head rode their commander, a man of some thirty to two and -thirty years of age, of a fine, manly person and handsome countenance, -although the expression might be somewhat quick and hasty, and a deep -scar on the brow rather marred the symmetry of his face. By his side, -on a horse of much inferior power, but full of fire and activity, rode -a man, not exactly in the garb of a servant, but yet plainly habited -and nearly unarmed. Sword and dagger most men wore in those days, but -he wore neither lance nor shield, cuirass nor back-piece. He carried a -little black velvet cap upon his head, with a long feather; and he -rode in shoes of untanned leather, with long, sharp points, somewhat -like a pod of mustard-seed. - -"Are you sure you know the way, Master Tony?" asked De Vitry. - -"I know the way right well, noble lord," replied the other; "but you -do me too much honour to call me master. In Italy none is master but a -man of great renown in the arts." - -"Good faith, I know not what you are," answered the leader, "and I -never could make out what young Lorenzo kept you always trotting at -his heels for, like a hound after his master." - -"You do me too much honour again, my lord," replied the other, "in -comparing me to a hound." - -"What, then, in Fortune's name, are you?" asked De Vitry, laughing. - -"A mongrel," replied Antonio, "half French, half Italian; but pray, -your lordship, don't adjure me by Fortune; for the blind goddess with -the kerchief over her eyes has never been favourable to me all my -life." - -"Time she should change then," answered De Vitry. - -"Oh, sir, she is like a school-boy," answered Antonio; "she never -changes but from mischief to mischief; only constant in doing evil; -and whichever side of her wheel turns uppermost, my lot is sure to -slide down to the bottom. But here your lordship must turn off." - -De Vitry was following on the road to which the other pointed, when a -voice behind said: - -"You are leaving the high road, my lord. If you look forward, you will -see this is but a narrow lane." - -"By my faith that is true," said the commander of the band; "you are -not tricking me, I trust, Master Antonio? Halt there--halt!" - -"It might be fine fun to trick a French knight if I were my lord's -jester," said Antonio, "but I have not arrived at that dignity yet." - -"Where does that road lead to, then, sirrah?" demanded De Vitry, -pointing to the one they were just leaving. - -"To Pavia, my lord," replied the man; "but you will find this the -shortest, and, I judge, the best." - -There was a lurking smile upon Antonio's face, which De Vitry did not -like; and, after but a moment's hesitation, he turned his horse back -into the other path, saying: - -"I will take the broad way; I never liked narrow or crooked paths in -my life." - -"I trust you will then allow me to follow the other, sir," said -Antonio; "first, because there is no use in trying to guide people who -will not be guided, and, secondly, because I have something important -to say to my young lord." - -"No, sir--no," answered De Vitry, sharply; "ride here by my side. -To-morrow, at farthest, I will take care to know whether you have -tried to deceive me: and if you have, beware your ears." - -"You will know to-night, my lord," said the man, "and my ears are in -no danger, if you are not given, like many another gentlemen, to -cuffing other people for your own faults." - -"You are somewhat saucy, sir," replied the marquis; "your master -spoils you, methinks." - -The man saw that his companion was not to be provoked farther, and was -silent while they rode onward. - -It was now drawing towards evening, but the light had not yet faded; -and De Vitry gazed around with a soldier's eye, scanning the military -aspect of the country around. - -"Is there not a river runs behind that ridge, Master Tony?" he asked -at the end of ten minutes, with easily recovered good-humour. - -"Yes, sir," replied the man shortly. - -"And what castle is that on the left--there, far in the distance?" - -"That is the castle of Sant' Angelo," answered Antonio. - -"Why, here is the river right before us," said De Vitry, "but where is -the bridge?" - -"Heaven knows," replied the man, with the same quiet smile he had -borne before; "part of it, you may see, is standing on the other side, -and there are a few stones on this, if they can be of any service to -your lordship. The rest took to travelling down toward the Po some -month or two ago, and how far they have marched I cannot tell." - -"Doubtless we can ford it," said De Vitry, in an indifferent tone. - -"First send your enemy, my lord," replied Antonio, "then your friend, -and then try it yourself--if you like." - -"By my life, I have a mind to send you first, head foremost," replied -the commander, sharply, but the next moment he burst into a -good-humoured laugh, saying, "Well, what is to be done? The stream -seems deep and strong. We did you wrong, Antonio. Now lead us right, -at all events." - -"You did yourself wrong, and your own eyesight, my lord," answered the -man, "for, if you had looked at the tracks on the road, you would have -seen that all the ox-carts for the last month have turned off where I -would have led you. You have only now to go back, again." - -"A hard punishment for a light fault," replied De Vitry. "Why told you -me not this before, my good sir." - -"Because, my lord, I have always thought St. Anthony, my patron, was -wrong in preaching to fishes which have no ears. But we had better -speed, sir, for it is touching upon evening, and night will have -fallen before we reach Sant' Angelo. There you will find good quarters -in the Borgo for your men; and, doubtless, the noble signor in the -castle will come down at the first sound of your trumpets, and ask you -and your prime officers to feast with him above. He is a noble lord, -and loves the powers that be. Well that the devil has not come upon -earth in his day, for he would have entertained him royally, and might -have injured his means in honour of his guest." - -De Vitry burst into another gay laugh, and, turning his horse's head, -gave orders for his band to retrace their steps, upon which, of -course, the young men commented as they would, while the old soldiers -obeyed without question, even in their thoughts. - -Night had long fallen when they reached Sant' Angelo a place then of -much more importance than it is now, or has been for two centuries. -But Antonio had been mistaken in supposing that De Vitry and his -principal officers would be invited to lodge within the castle. The -lord thereof was absent, knowing that the route of the King of France -must be close to his residence. He was well aware that the attachment -professed toward the young monarch by persons more powerful than -himself was all hollow and deceptive, and that inferior men, in -conflicts of great interests, always suffer, whose party soever they -espouse. But he knew, too that unexplained neutrality suffers more -than all, and he resolved to absent himself from his lands on the -first news of the arrival of the King of France in Italy, that he -might seem to favour neither him nor his opponents, and yet not -proclaim a neutrality which would make enemies of both. - -The castle, indeed, would at once have opened its gates, had it been -summoned; but De Vitry, knowing the king's anxiety to keep on good -terms with all the Italian nobles of Lombardy, contented himself with -lodgings in the humble inn of the place, and hunger made his food seem -as good as any which the castle could have afforded. The supper passed -gaily over; the men were scattered in quarters through the little -borough; wine was with difficulty procured by any but the officers, -and sober perforce, the soldiery sought rest early. De Vitry and one -or two others sat up late, sometimes talking, sometimes falling into -fits of thought. - -Antonio, in the meantime, had not even thought of rest. He had -carefully attended to his horse, had ordered him to be fed, and seen -him eat his food, and he stood before the door of the inn, gazing up -at the moon, as if enjoying the calm sweetness of the soft Italian -nights, but in reality meditating a farther ride as soon as all the -rest were asleep. It was in the shadiest corner of this doorway -that the man had placed himself, and yet he could see the full -nearly-rounded orb without coming under her beams. As so often -happens, two processes seemed going on in his mind at once; one -suggested by objects present, and finding utterance in an occasional -murmured sentence or two, the other originating in things past, and -proceeding silently. - -"Ay, Madam Moon," he said; "you are a curious creature, with your -changes, and your risings, and your settings, and your man with his -dog and lantern. I wonder what you really are. You look like a great -big ducat nailed upon the sky, or a seal of yellow wax pendent from -the charter of the heavens. I could almost fancy, though, that I can -see behind you on this clear night. Perhaps you are but the big boss -of a sconce, put up there to reflect the light of the sun. You will -soon be up there, just above the watch-tower of the castle, like a -ball upon a gate-post. Hark! there are people riding late. By my -faith! if they be travellers coming hither, they will find scanty -lodging and little to eat. These gormandizing Frenchmen have gobbled -up everything in the village, I warrant, and occupied every bed. On my -faith, they will find themselves too confident some day: not a sentry -set except at the stables; no one on guard; the two or three officers -in the dining-hall. They think they have got Italy at their feet; they -may discover that they are mistaken before they leave it. These -horsemen are coming hither. Who can they be?" - -While these thoughts had been occupying one part of the man--I know -not how better to express it--and had more or less clothed themselves -in words, another train, more nearly allied to feeling, had been -proceeding silently in the deeper recesses of his bosom. There was -something which made him half sorry that he had been prevented from -proceeding further before nightfall, half angry with him who had been, -partly at least, the cause of the delay. "I do not believe," he -thought, "that the big bravo can reach the villa before morning. He -had not set out when we came away, and yet I should like to see the -young lord to-night. I have a great mind to get upon my horse's skin -at once and go on. But then, a thousand to one, De Vitry would send -after and stop me; and if I were to meet Buondoni and his people, I -should get my throat cut, and all my news would escape through the -gash. If I could persuade this dashing French captain to lend me half -a dozen men now, I might do something; but their horses are all tired -with carrying the cart-load of iron each has got upon his shoulders. -Hark! these travellers are coming nearer. Perhaps they may bring some -news from the Villa Rovera. They are coming from that side." - -He drew farther back into the shadow of the gateway. It may seem -strange that he did so; for even in distracted England, in those days -as well as afterward, the first impulse of the lodger in an inn was to -meet the coming guest and obtain the general tidings which he brought, -and which were hardly to be obtained from any other source. But in -Italy men had learned such caution that every stranger was considered -an enemy till he was ascertained to be a friend. The evils of high -civilization were upon the land, without any of its benefits; nay, -more, this had endured so long that suspicion might almost be looked -upon as the normal condition of the Italian mind. - -The republics of Italy have been highly extolled by eloquent men, but -their results were all evil except in one respect. They served to -preserve a memory of the arts--to rescue, in fact, something which -might decorate life from the wreck of perished years. In thus -speaking, I include commerce with the arts. But as to social -advancement, they did nothing except through the instrumentality of -those arts. They endeavoured to revive ancient forms unsuited to the -epoch; they succeeded in so doing only for the briefest possible -period, and the effort ended everywhere, first in anarchy, and then in -despotism--each equally destructive to individual happiness, to -general security, and to public morals. They afforded a spectacle, at -once humiliating and terrible, of the impotence of the human mind to -stem the strong, calm current of pre-ordained events. Their brief -existence, their lamentable failure, the brightness of their short -course, and the evils consequent upon the attempts to recall rotten -institutions from millennial graves, were but as the last flash of the -expiring candle of old Rome, ending in darkness and a bad smell. For -more than two centuries, at the time I speak of, life and property in -Italy had enjoyed no security except in the continual watchfulness of -the possessor. The minds of men were armed as well as their bodies, -and thus had been engendered that suspicion and that constant -watchfulness which rendered life a mere campaign, because the world -was one battlefield. - -Oh! happy state under the old Saxon king of England, when from one end -to the other of the bright island a young girl might carry a purse of -gold unmolested! - -Antonio drew back as the travellers approached to hear something of -who and what they were before he ventured to deal with them -personally. They were within a few yards of him in a minute, drawing -in the rein when they came opposite the archway leading to the -stable-yard. There the first challenge of a sentinel was heard, and -the answer given, "Amici!" showed that they were Italians. - -The word was uttered quickly and in a tone of surprise, which showed -they were unaware the borgo had been occupied by the French troops; -but, after a few whispered sentences, one of the four who had newly -arrived asked the sentinel, in marvellous bad French, to call the -landlord or one of the horse-boys. They wanted food for themselves and -horses, they said, and hoped to find some place to rest in for the -night. - -The sentinel grumbled forth something to the effect that they were -much mistaken, but, raising his stentorian voice, he called the people -of the house into the courtyard; and Antonio gazed forth and -scrutinised the appearance of the new-comers for a minute or two, -while they made their application for entertainment, and heard all the -objections and difficulties laid before them by the landlord, who was -already overcrowded, but unwilling to lose certain _lire_ which they -might expend in his house. - -"I can but feed your horses in the yard, and give you some straw and -covering for yourselves, Signor Sacchi," replied the landlord; "and -then you must lie on the floor of the hall." - -The leading horseman turned to consult with his three companions, -saying, "He told us to wait him here if he came not in an hour." - -"Nay, I understood, if he came not in an hour," replied another, "we -were to conclude he had obtained entertainment in the Villa--, which -the count's letter was sure to secure for him; but I did not hear him -say we were to come back here, as I told you long ago, Sacchi." - -But before they had proceeded even thus far, Antonio had re-entered -the house, and was conversing eagerly with the young Marquis de Vitry. - -"If you will but let me have half a dozen common troopers, my lord," -said he--"I know not how many this man may have with him--but I will -risk that." - -"But who is he? who is he?" asked De Vitry, "and what are your causes -of suspicion?" - -"Why I told you, my lord," replied Antonio, "he is that tall -big-limbed Ferrara man who is so great a favourite with the Count -Regent--Buondoni is his name. Then, as to the causes of suspicion, I -came upon Ludovic and him talking in the gallery of the castle last -night, and I heard the count say, 'Put him out of the way any how; he -is a viper in my path, and must be removed. Surely, Buondoni, you can -pick a quarrel with the young hound, and rid me of him. He is not a -very fearful enemy, I think, to a master of fence like you!' Thereupon -the other laughed, saying, 'Well, my lord, I will set out to-night or -to-morrow, and you shall hear of something being done before Thursday, -unless Signor Rovera takes good care of his young kinsman.' 'Let him -beware how he crosses me,' muttered the Moor. And now, Signor de -Vitry, I am anxious to warn my young lord of what is plotting against -him." - -"After all, it may be against another, a different person from him you -suppose," replied De Vitry. "This Buondoni, if it be the same man, was -insolent to young De Terrail, and Bayard struck him. We also were -going to halt at the Villa Rovera, and Ludovic knew it." - -"But, my lord," exclaimed Antonio, "do you not perceive--" - -"I see, I see," replied De Vitry, interrupting him: "I know what you -would say. Ludovic has no cause to hate Bayard or to remove him; it -was but Buondoni's private quarrel. There is some truth in that. Are -you sure these men just arrived are his servants?" - -"As sure as the sun moves round the earth," replied Antonio. - -"Nay, that I know nought of," answered De Vitry; "but here they come, -I suppose. Find out De Terrail, Antonio. Tell him to take twenty men -of his troop and go forward with you. You can tell him your errand as -you go. I will deal awhile with these gentlemen, and see what I can -make out of them." - -Antonio retired quietly keeping to the shady side of the large -ill-lighted hall, while the three freshly-arrived travellers moved -slowly forward, with a respectful air, toward the table near which De -Vitry sat. - -"Give you good evening, gentlemen," said the marquis, turning sharply -round as soon as he heard their footsteps near. "Whence come you?" - -"From Pavia, my lord," said Sacchi, a large-boned, black-bearded man. - -"And what news bring you?" inquired the French commander. "None, my -lord," replied the man; "all was marvellous peaceful." - -"Ay, peace is a marvel in this wicked world," answered De Vitry. -"Called you at the Villa Rovera as you passed?" - -"No, sir--that is, we stopped a moment, but did not call," replied -Sacchi. - -"And what did you stop for?" asked the Frenchman. - -"Only just to--to be sure of our way," replied Sacchi. - -"And you came from Pavia, then?" said De Vitry. "You must have set out -at a late hour, especially for men who did not rightly know their way. -But methinks I saw you in Milan this morning. Will you have the bounty -to wake that gentleman at the end of the table, who has gone to sleep -over his wine?" - -He spoke in the calmest and most good-humoured tone, without moving in -his seat, his feet stretched out before him, and his head thrown back; -and the man to whom he spoke approached the French officer who was -seated sleeping at the table, and took him by the shoulder. - -"Shake him," said De Vitry; "shake him hard; he sleeps soundly when he -does sleep." - -Sacchi did as he was bid, and the officer started up, exclaiming: - -"What is it? Aux armes!" - -"No need of arms, Montcour," answered his commander; "only do me the -favour of taking that gentleman by the collar, and placing him in -arrest." - -He spoke at first slowly, but increased in rapidity of utterance as he -saw his officer's sleepy senses begin to awaken. But Montcour was -hardly enough roused to execute his orders, and though he stretched -out his hand somewhat quickly towards Sacchi's neck, the Italian had -time to jump back and make toward the door. - -De Vitry was on his feet in a moment, however, and barred the way, -sword in hand. The other servants of Buondoni rushed to the only other -way out; but there were officers of De Vitry's band not quite so -sleepy as Montcour, and, without waiting for orders, they soon made -three out of the four prisoners. The other leaped from the window and -escaped. - -"My lord, my lord, this is too bad!" exclaimed Sacchi; "you came here -as friends and allies of the noble regent, and you are hardly ten days -in the country before you begin to abuse his subjects and servants." - -For a moment or two De Vitry kept silence, and gazed at his prisoner -with a look of contempt. The man did not like either the look or the -silence. Each was significant, but difficult to answer; and in a -moment after, De Vitry having given him over to one of the subaltern -officers, nodded his head, quietly saying: - -"We understand you, sirrah, better than you think. If I were to -consider you really as a servant of Prince Ludovic, I might remark -that the regent invited us here as friends and allies, and we had been -scarcely ten days in the land ere he sent you and others to murder one -of our officers, and a kinsman of our king; but I do not choose to -consider you as his servant, nor to believe that he is responsible for -your acts. The king must judge of that as he finds reason, and either -hang you or your master, as in his equity he judges right. As to other -matters, you know your first word was a lie, that you do not come from -Pavia at all, and that the beginning and end of your journey was the -Villa Rovera. What you have done there I do not know, but I know the -object of your master." - -"But, sir, I have nought to do with my master's business," replied -Sacchi. "I know nought of his objects; I only know that I obey my -orders." - -"Hark ye! we are wasting words," said De Vitry. "Doubtless you will be -glad to know what I intend to do with you. I shall keep you here till -an hour before daybreak, and then take you on to the villa. If I find -that one hair of Lorenzo Visconti's head has suffered, I will first -hang your master, the worshipful Signor Buondoni, on the nearest tree, -and then hang you three round him for the sake of symmetry. I swear it -on the cross;" and he devoutly kissed the hilt of his sword. - -Sacchi's face turned deadly pale, and he murmured: - -"It will be too late--to-morrow--before to-morrow it will be done." - -"What is that you mutter?" said De Vitry; "what do you mean will be -done?" - -"Why, my lord," replied the man, "my master--my master may have some -grudge against the young lord Lorenzo. He is a man of quick action, -and does not tarry long in his work. I know nought about it, so help -me Heaven! but it is hard to put an innocent man's life in jeopardy -for what may happen in a night. Better set off at once and stop the -mischief rather than avenge it." - -"So, so!" said De Vitry; "then the story is all too true. Bayard! -Bayard!" - -"He has just passed into the court, seigneur," replied one of the -young officers who was standing near the window; "he and some others -are mounting their horses now. Shall I call him?" - -"No, let him go," answered the leader; "he is always prompt and always -wise. We can trust it all to him. As for these fellows, take them and -put them in an upper room where they cannot jump out. Set a guard at -the door. You, signors, best know whether your consciences are quite -clear; but if they be not, I advise you to make your peace with Heaven -as best you may during the night, for I strongly suspect, from what -you yourselves admit, that I shall have to raise you a little above -earthly things about dawn to-morrow. There, take them away. I do not -want to hear any more. Our good King Louis, eleventh of the name, had -a way of decorating trees after such a sort. I have seen as many as a -dozen all pendent at once when I was a young boy, and I do not know -why it should go against my stomach to do this same with a pack of -murderous wolves, who seem made by Heaven for the purpose of giving a -warning to their countrymen." - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -When Lorenzo awoke--and his sleep was not of such long duration as -fully to outlive the darkness--he found more than one person watching -him. Close by his side sat Ramiro d'Orco, and near the foot of his bed -the lamplight fell upon the well-known face of his faithful follower, -Antonio. He felt faint and somewhat confused, and he had a throbbing -of the brow and temples, which told him he was ill; but for some -moments he remembered nothing of the events which had taken place the -night before. - -"How feel you, my young friend?" asked Ramiro, in a far more gracious -tone than he commonly used; "yet speak low and carefully, for, though -the antidote has overwrought the poison, you must long be watchful of -your health, and make no exertion." - -"You are very kind, Signor Ramiro," replied the young man. "I believe -I was wounded last night, and that the blade was poisoned--yes, it was -so, and I owe you my life." - -"I speak not of that, Lorenzo," replied Ramiro; "I am right glad I was -here, and could wish much that I could remain to watch you in your -convalescence, for a relapse might be fatal; but I will trust you to -hands more delicate, if not so skilful as my own. Men make bad nurses; -women are the fit attendants for a sick room, and your pretty little -cousin, Bianca Maria--as gentle and sweet as an angel--and my child -Leonora, whom you know, shall be your companions. I will charge them -both to watch you at all moments, and, under their tender care, I -warrant you will soon recover. I myself must ride hence ere noon, for -I must be in Rome ere ten days are over. Ere that you will be quite -well; and should it be needful that Leonora should follow me, I will -trust to your noble care to bring her on through this distracted -country. I know you will reverence her youth and innocence for her -father's sake, who has done all he could for you in a moment of great -peril." - -Lorenzo's heart beat with joy at the mere thought. I would have said -thrilled, but, unhappily, the misuse of good words by vulgar and -ignorant men banishes them, in process of time, from the dictionary. -The multitude is too strong for individual worth, and prevails. - -"On my honour and my soul," replied Lorenzo, "I will guard her with -all veneration and love, as if she were some sacred shrine committed -to my charge." - -A slight irrepressible sneer curled Ramiro's lip, for all enthusiasms -are contemptible to worldly men; but he was well learned in fine words -and phrases, and had sentiments enough by rote. - -"The mind of a pure girl," he said, "is indeed as a saint in a shrine. -Woe be to him who desecrates it. We are accustomed to think of such -things too lightly in this land; but you have had foreign education -amongst the chivalrous lords of France, in whom honour is an instinct, -and I will fearlessly trust you to guard her on her journey through -the troubled country across which she will have to pass." - -"You may do so confidently, signor," replied Lorenzo, in a bold tone; -but then he seemed to hesitate; and raising himself on his arm, after -a moment's thought, he added, "I hope, my lord, you will not consider -that I violate the trust reposed in me, if perchance I should, in all -honour, plead my cause with her by the way. Already I love her with an -honourable and yet a passionate love, and I must win her for my wife -if she is to be won. We are both very young, it is too true; but that -only gives me the more time to gain her, if you do not oppose. As for -myself, I know I shall never change, and I would lose neither time nor -opportunity in wooing her affections in return. I fear me, indeed," he -added, "that I could not resist the occasion, were she to go forward -under my guard, and therefore I speak so plainly thus early." - -He paused a moment, and then continued, with an instinctive -appreciation of the character of him to whom he spoke, which all -Ramiro's apparent disinterested kindness had not been able to affect: - -"What dower she may have, I know not, neither do I care. I have enough -for both, and allied as I am to more than one royal house, were I -ambitious--and for her sake I may become so--I could carve me a path -which would open out to me and mine high honours and advantages, -unless I be a coward or a fool." - -"Well, well, good youth, we will talk more of this another time," -replied Ramiro d'Orco; "you have done nobly and honestly to speak of -it, and it will only make me trust you more implicitly. Coward you are -none, as you have shown this night, and fool you certainly are not. -You may want the guidance of some experience, and if you be willing to -listen to the counsel of one who has seen more of life than you, I -will show you how to turn your great advantages to good account. It -might not be too vast a scope of fancy to think of a Visconti once -more seated in the chair of Milan. But I have news for you, one of -your comrades in arms has arrived during the night, warned, it would -seem, that some harm was intended you." - -"Who is he?" asked Lorenzo eagerly. - -"Young Pierre de Terrail," answered Ramiro. "He seems a noble youth, -and was much grieved to hear that you were suffering. He has brought -some twenty men with him, whom we have lodged commodiously; but I -would not suffer him to come up while you were sleeping, as -undisturbed repose was most necessary to your recovery." - -Lorenzo expressed a strong wish to see his young comrade; and in a few -minutes he, so celebrated afterwards as the Chevalier Bayard, was -introduced. He was at this time a youth of about eighteen years of -age, who at first sight appeared but slightly made, and formed more -for activity than strength. Closer observation, however, showed in the -broad shoulders and open chest, the thin flank, and long, powerful -limbs, the promise of that hardy vigour which he afterwards displayed. - -Lorenzo held out his hand to him with a warm smile, saying, "Welcome, -welcome, De Terrail! You find me here fit for nothing, while there you -are still in your armour, as a reproach to me, I suppose, for not -being ready to march." - -"Not so, not so, Visconti," said the young hero. "I did not know how -soon you might wake, or how soon I might have occasion to go on to -Pavia, and therefore I sat me down and slept in my armour, like a -lobster in his shell. But how feel you now? Is the venom wholly -subdued?" - -"Yes, thanks to this noble lord," replied Lorenzo. - -"Nevertheless," rejoined Ramiro, "you will need several days' repose -before you can venture to mount your horse. Any agitation of the blood -might prove fatal." - -"Why, he has just been named by the king to the command of a troop in -our band," answered De Terrail; "but we must manage that for you, -Visconti. We will take it turn and turn about to order your company -for you till you are well." - -"Nay, I do not intend to have that troop," replied his young friend. -"It is yours of right, Terrail. You entered full three months before -me; and I will not consent to be put over your head." - -"I will have none of it," answered the young Bayard. "It is the king's -own will, Visconti; and we must obey without grumbling. Besides, do -you think I will rob a man of his post while he is suffering on my -account?" - -"How am I suffering on your account?" asked Visconti. "What had you to -do with my wound?" - -"Do you not know that I struck this big fellow in the castle court at -Milan because he was insolent?" said Bayard. "He vowed he would kill -me before the week was out, and, depend upon it, he mistook you for -me. He knew I was coming hither, and thought I was coming alone; for -at first the king ordered me to carry you the news of your nomination, -but he afterwards changed his mind, and sent it by the trumpet who was -going to Pavia. He might not have killed me as easily as he thought; -but he met a still worse playfellow in you, for you killed him -instead. You were always exceedingly skilful with rapier and dagger, -though I think I am your equal with the lance." - -"O! superior far," answered Lorenzo. "So he is dead, is he? I have but -a confused notion of all that took place last night. I only know that -he attacked me like a wild beast, and I had not even time to draw my -dagger." - -"Ay! dead enough," replied De Terrail. "I had a look at him as he lies -below in the hall, and a more fell visage I never saw on a corpse. -Your sword went clear through him, from the right side to the left; -and you only gave him what he well merited--the murderous scoundrel, -to poison his weapons!" - -"That is a practice which sometimes must be had resort to, when men -serve great princes," observed Ramiro, with a quiet smile, "but in a -private quarrel it is base." - -"Ay, base enough any way," replied the young Bayard. "However, you -have rid me of an enemy and the world of an assassin, Lorenzo, and I -hope you will not suffer long. But there, the day is coming up in the -east, and I must on to Pavia presently. I had orders last night to -ride early this morning and mark out our quarters; but when your good -fellow there gave us news of your danger, I came on, by De Vitry's -order, to see if we could defend you." - -"If you will wait but half an hour, and break your fast with us in the -hall," said Ramiro d'Orco, "I will ride on with you, and take -advantage of the escort of your men-at-arms, Signor de Terrail." - -"Willingly," answered the other; "some breakfast were no bad thing; -for, good faith! we supped lightly last night. But I will go and see -that all is ready for departure when we have done our meal." - -He quitted the room, and Ramiro d'Orco soon after followed, promising -to see his patient again before he departed for the South. - -Left alone with his young lord, Antonio drew nearer, and, bending down -his head, said, "I wonder, signor, what charm you have used upon the -Signor d'Orco to make his hard iron as soft as soap. Why, he is the -picture of tenderness--Mercy weeping over the guilt of sinners--a -lineal descendant from the good Samaritan, or of that gentleman from -whom the Frangipani are descended, or some other of the charitable -heroes of antiquity. He was never known to shed a tear that was not -produced by something that tickled his nose, or to laugh except when -he saw the grimaces of a man broken on the wheel." - -"Hush, hush!" said Lorenzo; "to me he has been very kind, and I must -judge of people as I find them." - -"Ay, sir, judge when you know them well," answered Antonio. "Your -pardon, excellent lord; but hear a word or two more. He who was more -than a father to you, placed me near you to serve you, not only with -my limbs, but with my tongue--in the way of counsel, I mean. This man -has benefited you. Be grateful to him; but be not the less on your -guard. Give him no power over you, lest he should abuse it. The -smallest secret in the keeping of a wicked man is a sword over the -head of him who trusted him. If we lock up our own money, how much -more should we lock up our thoughts. I have seen a mountebank's pig -walk upon his hind legs; but I never saw one that could do it long at -a time. If you wait and watch, cunning will always show itself in its -true colours. The face of a man's nature is always too big for any -mask he can buy, and some feature will always be uncovered by which -you can know the man. No one can cover his whole person with a veil; -and if you cannot judge by the face, you can find him out by the -feet." - -"Well, well," said Lorenzo, somewhat impatiently; "open that window -wide, Antonio. My head aches, and I feel half suffocated. Then just -smooth my bed, and put out that winking lamp. I should not have my -chamber look like the room of an hospital." - -Quick to comprehend, Antonio did not only what Lorenzo ordered, but -much more, and set himself busily to give an air of trim neatness to -the apartment, removing his master's bloody clothing which was lying -on the ground, and placing on a stool clean linen and a new suit, but -taking care to move neither the sword nor the arms, which had been -cast negligently on the table. There was something picturesque in -their arrangement that suited his fancy, and he let them remain. But -in the course of his perquisitions he came to the silver flagon which -had been brought by the page, and, after smelling to it, he asked, -"Why, what is this?" - -"Nay, I only know that it kept up my strength when I felt as if each -moment I should die," answered Lorenzo. "I do not think even the -antidote he applied to my arm would have been sufficient to save me -but for its aid; the poison was so potent." - -"Doubtless," replied Antonio; "but it gives me a secret how to -accelerate your cure, my good lord--A wet napkin round his head will -take off the head-ache, at all events," he muttered to himself; "but -not just yet. Better let these men depart first. - -"Now, Antonio, sit down and tell me all that has befallen since I sent -you to Milan," said Lorenzo. "Did you find the small picture of my -mother where old Beatrice told me it would be found?" - -"Yes, my lord; but the case was much broken," replied Antonio. "Here -it is." - -As he spoke, he produced one of those miniature portraits which -sometimes even the most celebrated artists of the day were pleased to -paint, and handed it to Lorenzo. It was fixed in an embossed case of -gilded brass; but as the man had said, the back of the case had been -apparently forced sharply open, so as to break the spring lock and one -of the hinges. - -Lorenzo took it, and, raising himself on his elbow, gazed at the -features of a very lovely woman which the picture represented. - -"And this was my mother!" he murmured, after looking at it for a long -time; and then he added, in a still lower tone, "Vengeance is mine, -saith the Lord!" - -He then turned the portrait, drew off the dilapidated back of the -case, and read some words which were written round a small oval box -forming part of the frame, but concealed by the case when it was -closed. - -"A cure for the ills of life!" were the words; and, lifting the lid of -the box, he beheld several small papers, containing some substance -within them, discoloured by age. - -"Know you what these are?" he asked of Antonio. - -"No, my lord," replied the man; "poison, I suppose, as death is 'the -only cure for all the ills of life.'" - -"Right!" replied Lorenzo, musing, "right! He told me she had only -escaped dishonour by death." - -"Ay, my good young lord, I can tell you more of it," answered Antonio. -"You were a baby then; but I am well-nigh fifteen years older, and I -remember it all right well. I was then in Milan, and----" - -He had not time to finish the sentence ere Ramiro d'Orco entered the -room, followed by Bianca Maria and Leonora. The expression of the -countenance of each of the two girls was somewhat significant of their -characters, Blanche Marie gazed, shrinking and timid, round the room, -as if she expected to behold some ghastly spectacle, till her eyes -lighted upon Lorenzo, and then a glad smile spread over her whole -face. Leonora looked straight on, her eyes fixing upon her wounded -lover at once, as if divining rather than seeing where he lay; and, -walking straight to his bedside, she took the chair nearest, as if of -right. - -"I have brought you two nurses, Lorenzo," said Ramiro; "they will give -their whole care to you, and you will soon be well. But you must -promise me, in honour of the skill which has saved your life, that you -will not hazard it by attempting any exercise for several days." - -"I will not," answered Lorenzo, "unless the king's orders especially -require my service. Of course if they do, his orders must be obeyed." - -"Certainly, certainly," replied the other; "but those orders will not -come. He shall hear how near death you have been, and of course will -be considerate. But now farewell. I must go join Monsieur de Terrail. -You shall hear from me, when I reach Bologna, concerning what was -spoken of. Till then, I leave you in kind and tender hands." - -Thus saying, he bade him adieu and left him; and Antonio followed, -judging perhaps that Lorenzo's two fair companions would afford -attendance enough. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -"Who times gallops withal!" Alas! dear Rosalind, you might have found -a sweeter illustration than that which you give. Doubtless "he gallops -with a thief to the gallows," but I fear me, impatient joy and -reluctant fear, like most opposites in the circle of all things, meet -and blend into each other. Time gallops full as fast when he carries -along two lovers, and between the hours of meeting and parting his -pace is certainly of the quickest. - -Never, perhaps, did he travel so fast as with Leonora and Lorenzo. -Their feelings were so new; they were so eager and so warm; they were -so full of youth and youth's impetuous fire, that----smouldering as -love had been for the last ten days, unseen even by their own eyes, -and only lighted into a blaze by the events of the night before--we -might pursue the image of a great conflagration, and say, both were -confused and dazzled by the light, and hardly felt or knew the rapid -passing of the quick-winged moments. - -Blanche Marie might perhaps have estimated the passage of time more -justly; for the unhappy third person--however he may love the two -others, and whatever interests he may feel in their happiness--has, -after all, but a sorry and a tedious part to play; and although the -fairer and the milder of the two girls was not yet more than fourteen, -she might long--while she sat there, silent, and striving not to -listen to the murmured words of the two lovers--she might long for the -day when her happy hour would come, and when the whole heart's -treasury would be opened for her to pick out its brightest gems. Nay, -perhaps, I might go even a little farther, and remind the reader that -life's earlier stage is shorter in Italy than in most other European -countries; that the olive and the orange ripen fast; and that the -fruits of the heart soon reach maturity in that land. Juliet--all -Italian, impassioned Juliet--was not yet fourteen--not till "Lammas -Eve"--when the consuming fire took possession of her heart, and Lady -Capulet herself was a mother almost at the years of Blanche Marie. - -But it is an hour----that at which she had now arrived in life's short -day--it is an hour of dreams and fairy forms, in the faint, vapoury -twilight which lies between the dawn and the full day, when the rising -sun paints every mist with gold and rose-colour, and through the very -air of your existence spreads a purple light. The tears of that sweet -time are but as early dew-drops brightened into jewels by the light of -youthful hope, and the onward look of coming years, though kindled -with the first beams of passion, knows not the fiery heat of noon, nor -can conceive the arid dryness of satiety. - -Blanche Marie sat and dreamed near her two cousins. At first, she -heard some of the words they spoke; but then she listened more to the -speakers in her own heart; and then she gave herself up to visions of -the future; and the outward creature remained but a fair, motionless -statue, unconscious of aught that passed around her, but full of light -and ever-varying fancies. - -How passed the time none of the three knew, but it passed rapidly, and -Bianca was awakened from her reveries by the sound of a strange voice, -saying, "Pardon, sweet lady," as some one passed her, brushing lightly -against her garments, which he could not avoid touching, on his way to -Lorenzo's bedside. - -"Why, how now, Visconti!" exclaimed the new-comer, "What! made a -leader, assaulted by an assassin, wounded with a poisoned weapon, -vanquisher in the fight, saved by a miracle, and nursed by two -beautiful ladies--all in twenty-four hours? By my fay, thou art a -favoured child of chivalry indeed!" - -Blanche Marie looked round at the speaker, roused from her reverie -suddenly, but not unpleasantly. There was something joyous, -light-hearted, and musical in the voice that spoke, which won favour -by its very tone. Oh! there is a magic in the voice, of which we take -not account enough. Have you not often marked, reader, how one man in -a mixed company will win attention in an instant, not by the matter of -his words, not by the manner, but by the mere tone in which they are -spoken? Have you not sometimes seen two men striving to gain the ear -of a fair lady, and eloquence, and sense, and wit all fail, while -sweet tones only have prevailed? The eye and the ear are but sentries -on guard, and the fair form and the sweet tone are but as passwords to -the camp. Nay, more: some voices have their peculiar harmonies with -the hearts of individuals. One will have no sweetness in its tone to -many, while to another it will be all melody; and all this is no -strange phenomenon; it is quite natural that it should be so. Where is -the man to whom the owlet is as sweet a songster as the lark! and who -can pass the nightingale on his spray, though he may not pause a -moment by the gaudy paroquet? The blackbird's sweet, round pipe, the -thrush's evening welcome to the approaching spring, the lark's -rejoicing fugue in the blue sky, are all sweet to well-tuned ears; but -each finds readier access to some hearts than to others. - -The voice which awoke Bianca Maria from her reverie was very pleasant -to her ear. There was an unaffected frankness in it--as if welling up -clear from the heart-which was prepossessing to a pure, young, -innocent mind like hers. - -"Ah! Signor De Vitry," replied Lorenzo, "I have, indeed, had good -fortune in many ways; and I suppose I ought in common gratitude to -Heaven, to think it all unmixed good. But I have somewhat suffered in -body, and now I am troubled to think what is to become of my troop -while I lie here useless. I would the king would bestow it upon De -Terrail, and let me have another chance." - -"Think not of it," answered De Vitry; "we will arrange all things for -you. Bayard is a noble fellow, who will win high fame some day, but we -must obey the king. I find De Terrail has been here, and suppose you -have seen him, for they tell me he went on two hours ago." - -"Two hours!" exclaimed Lorenzo; "hardly so much, I think." - -"Ay! time flies fast under bright eyes," answered De Vitry, with a -laugh. "Two hours the servants below tell me, and no less. However, I -must on my way. I only stopped to inquire what had happened, for no -news had reached me when I marched; and I found a prisoner below whom -Bayard left for me--a man who waited without, it seems, while Monsieur -Buondoni busied himself with you within. I had three others of the -villains in my power before, but they do not seem to be as deep in -their master's secrets as this gentleman. But my provost must have -finished the work I gave him by this time, and so I must on. Your -pardon, sweet young lady, will you give me leave just to look forth -from this window?" - -He passed Blanche Marie with a courteous inclination of the head, and -gazed forth toward the high road, and then, turning to Lorenzo, added: - -"Ay, it is all right. Farewell for the present, Visconti. Rest quietly -till you are quite well. We shall halt at Pavia for two or three days -till the king comes on, and then probably for some days more. But I -will come and see you from time to time, and we will make all needful -arrangements. Shall I be welcome, sweet lady?" - -"Oh, right welcome, noble sir," replied Bianca Maria, to whom his -words were addressed; "but you must not go without tasting some -refreshment, and you must see the Count Rovera, my grandsire." - -"Nay, I have but little time," answered De Vitry; "and yet a cup of -wine from such fair hands were mightily refreshing after a dusty ride. -Your grandsire I will see when I am in a more fitting attire. 'Tis but -six miles to Pavia, I am told; and I will soon ride over again, were -it but to make excuse to the old count for hanging an assassin just -before his gates. However, it may chance to warn others of the same -cloth to venture here no more." - -Bianca Maria's cheek turned somewhat pale, and she suddenly turned her -eyes in the direction toward which De Vitry had been looking from the -window a moment or two before. There was a dark object hanging among -the bare branches of a mulberry-tree long divested of its leaves. She -could not exactly distinguish what that object was, but she divined; -and, turning away with a shudder, she murmured: - -"For Heaven's sake, my lord, have him cut down." - -"Certainly, if you wish it," replied De Vitry; "but, dear lady, it is -needful to punish such villains, or we should soon have but few of our -French nobles, or those who hold with us, left alive. However, there -can be no great harm in cutting him down now, for my provost does not -do any such things by halves." - -He took a step toward the door, and then paused for a moment, as if -not quite certain of the fair young girl's wishes. - -"You know, I suppose," he said, in a tone of inquiry, "that this man -whom they have just hanged, is one of those who came to assassinate -Signor Visconti here?" - -"My cousin has avenged himself in defending himself," answered Bianca -Maria. "I am sure he does not wish any others to suffer." - -"Well," answered De Vitry, with a laugh; "I thought myself mightily -compassionate that I did not hang the other three, as, I dare say, -they all well deserved; but this fellow was caught waiting for -Buondoni, and was, we found, in the whole secret. However, we will -have him cut down, if such be your pleasure." - -"Oh, pray do, my lord--pray do, at once!" cried Bianca; "perhaps there -may be life in him yet." - -"Now Heaven forbid!" cried De Vitry; "but come with me, sweet lady, -and you shall hear the order given instantly. Adieu, Visconti! -Farewell, beautiful lady with the dark eyes! You have not bestowed one -word upon me; but, nevertheless, I kiss your hand." - -Thus saying, he left the room with Blanche Marie, who led him by a -staircase somewhat distant from that which conducted to the great -hall, where the body of Buondoni still lay, to a vestibule, where -several of the marquis's attendants were waiting. There the orders -which De Vitry had promised were soon given, and a cup of wine was -brought for his refreshment. He lingered over it for a longer space of -time than he had intended, and while he did so, he contrived to wile -Bianca Maria's thoughts away from the event that had saddened them. -Indeed, though the young girl was less light and volatile than she -seemed to be, and many of her age really were, he effected his -object--if it was an object--far more readily than could have been -supposed. There was something in his manner toward her which amused -and yet teased her, which pleased but did not frighten her. There was -a certain touch of gallantry in it, and evidently no small portion of -admiration; and yet it was clear he looked upon her as a child, and -that in all his civil speeches there was at least as much jest as -earnest. Nevertheless, every now and then there was a serious tone -which fell pleasantly upon the young girl's ear, and was thought of in -after hours. - -"I trust the count will soon be here," she said, at length; "you had -better stay, Signor de Vitry, and see him. He sat up during the -greater part of the night, I am told, anxious about my cousin. But he -must rise soon." - -"My sweet lady," answered the soldier, "I must not stay. I have -two--nay, three good reasons for going: first that a beautiful young -lady has already beguiled me to stay longer than I should; secondly, -that a pleasant old gentleman might beguile me to stay still longer; -and, thirdly, that, as I intend to come back again often, I must -husband excuses for my visits, and one shall be to see the count, and -to apologize in person for acting high justiciary upon his lands. You -have forgiven me already, I think, else there in no truth is those -blue eyes; and so I kiss your hand, and promise to behave better when -next I come." - -Blanche Marie had ample matter for meditation during the rest of that -day, at least. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -In those days, as in the present, there was situated, somewhere or -other in the garden, farm, or podere of every Italian villa, sometimes -hid among the fig-trees, olives, or mulberries, sometimes planted -close to one of the gates of the inclosing walls, a neat farm-house, -the abode of the contadino, who dwelt there usually in much more -happiness and security than attended his lords and masters in their -more magnificent abodes. It is true that occasionally a little -violence might be brought down upon the heads of the family, by any -extraordinary beauty in a daughter or a niece, or any very ferocious -virtue upon the parents' part; but, sooth to say, I fear me much that, -since the times of Virginius, Italian fathers have not looked with -very severe eyes upon affairs of gallantry between their daughters and -men of elevated station, nor have the young ladies themselves been -very scrupulous in accepting the attentions of well-born cavaliers. -The inconveniences resulting from such adventures apart, the life of -an Italian peasant was far more safe and far more happy in those days -than the life of a noble or a citizen, and Sismondi has justly pointed -out that they were more contented with their lot, and had more cause -for content, than any other class in the land. No very heavy exactions -pressed upon them; their lords were generally just, and even generous; -and it rarely happened that they saw their harvests wasted even by the -wandering bands, whose leaders wisely remembered that they and their -soldiers must depend upon those harvests for support. - -The house of a contadino has less changed than almost any other -building in Italy. There was always a certain degree of taste -displayed in its construction, and there was always one room a good -deal larger than any of the rest, with plenty of air blowing through -it, to which, when the sun shone too strongly under the porch, any of -the family could retire _per pigliar la fresca_. It was in this large -room at the farm, in the gardens of the villa, that, at an early hour -of the day which succeeded the death of Buondoni, a strange sight -might be seen. The door was locked and barred, and from time to time -each of those within--and there were several--turned a somewhat -anxious, fearful look towards it or to the windows, as if they were -engaged in some act for which they desired no witnesses. Two women, an -old and a young one, stood at the head of a long table; a second girl -was seen at the side; a young man was near the other end, holding a -large, heavy bucket in his hand; and at some distance from all the -rest, with his arms folded on his chest and somewhat gloomy -disapproving brow, was the contadino himself, gazing at what the -others were about, but taking no part therein himself. - -The object, however, of most interest lay upon the table. It was -apparently the corpse of a man from thirty-five to forty years of age, -dressed in the garb of a retainer of some noble house. His long black -hair flowed wildly from his head, partly soiled with dust, partly -steeped with water. His dress also was wet, and the collar of his coat -as well as that of his vest seemed to have been torn rudely open. He -had apparently died a violent death: the face was of a dark waxen -yellow, and the tongue, which protruded from the mouth, had been -bitten in violent agony between the teeth. Round his neck, and -extending upwards towards the left ear, was a dark red mark, -significant of the manner of his death. - -"Here, Giulo, here!" cried the elder woman, "pour the water over him -again. His eyes roll in his head. He is coming to!" - -"Ah, Marie! what a face he makes," exclaimed one of the girls, -shutting out the sight with her hands. - -"Poor fools! you will do more harm than good," murmured the contadino; -"let the man pass in peace! I would sooner spend twenty lire in masses -for his soul than bring him back to trouble the world any more." - -"Would you have us act like tigers or devils, you old iniquity?" asked -his wife, shaking three fingers at him. "The life is in the poor man -yet. Shall we let him go out of the world without unction or -confession, for fear of what these French heretics may do to us?" - -"Besides, Madonna Bianca had him cut down to save his life," cried the -girl who stood nearest his head. "You would fain please her, I trow, -father. I heard her myself pray for him to be cut down, and she will -be glad to hear we have recovered him. It was that which made me run -away for Giulio as soon as the order was given." - -While this dialogue was going on, the young man, Giulio, had poured -the whole bucket of water over the recumbent body on the table, -dashing it on with a force which might well have driven the soul out -of a living man, but which, on this occasion, seemed to have the very -opposite effect of bringing spirit into a dead one. Suddenly the -eyelids closed over the staring eyes; there was a shudder passed over -the whole frame; the fingers seemed to grasp at some fancied object on -the table, and at length respiration returned, at first in fitful -gasps, but soon with regular and even quiet action. The eyes then -opened again, and turned from face to face with some degree of -consciousness; but they closed again after a momentary glance around, -and he fell into what seemed a heavy sleep, distinguished from that -still heavier sleep into which he had lately lain by the equable -heaving of the chest. - -The mother and the two girls looked on rejoicing, and Giulio, too, had -a well-satisfied look, for such are the powers of that wonderful -quality called vanity, that as it was under his hand the man -recovered, he attributed his resuscitation entirely to his own skill; -and had his patient been the devil himself come to plague him and all -the world, good Giulio would have glorified himself upon the triumph -of his exertions. And well he might; for, unfortunately, as this world -goes, men glory as much over their success in bad as in good actions, -judging not the merit of deeds by their consequences, even where those -consequences are self-evident. Success, success is all that the world -esteems. It is the gold that will not tarnish--the diamond whose -lustre no breath can dim. - -The old contadino, however, was even less pleased with the result of -his family's efforts than he had been with the efforts themselves. - -"Satan will owe us something," he muttered, "for snatching from him -one of his own, and he is a gentleman who always pays his debts. By my -faith, I will go up and tell the count what has chanced. I do not -choose to be blamed for these women's mad folly. Better let him know -at once, while the fellow is in such a state that a pillow over his -mouth will soon put out the lighted flame they have lighted in him--if -my lord pleases." - -"What are you murmuring there, you old hyena?" asked his gentle wife. - -"Oh, nothing, nothing, good dame," replied the husband; "'twas only -the fellow's grimaces made me sick, and I must out into the podere. -C--e! I did not think you would have succeeded so well with the poor -devil. I hope he'll soon be able to jog away from here; for, though he -may move and talk again--and I dare say he will--I shall always look -upon him as a dead man, notwithstanding. Suppose, now, that it should -not be his own soul that has come back into him, wife, but some bad -spirit, that all your working and water--I am sure it was not holy -water--has brought back into his poor, miserable corpse!" - -"Jesu Maria! do not put such thoughts into my head, Giovanozzo," -exclaimed the old lady with a look of horror; "but that cannot be, -either, for I made Giulio put some salt into the water, and the devil -can never stand that; so go along with you. You cannot frighten me. Go -and try to get back your senses, for you seem to have lost them, good -man." - -The contadino was glad to get away unquestioned; and, unlocking the -door, he issued forth from his house. At first he did not turn his -steps toward the villa, but took a path which led down to the river. -At the distance of some hundred or hundred and fifty yards, however, -where the trees screened him from his own dwelling, he looked round to -see that none of his family followed, and then turned directly up the -little rise. When near the terrace he saw a man coming down the steps -toward him, and suddenly paused; but a moment's observation showed him -that he need have no alarm. The person who approached was no other -than Antonio, between whom and the good peasant a considerable -intimacy had sprung up since Lorenzo Visconti had been at the Villa -Rovera. Would you taste the best wine on an estate, or eat the -sweetest fig of the season, make friends with the contadino and his -family; and, perhaps acting on this maxim, Antonio had often been down -to pass an hour or two with Giovanozzo, and enliven the whole -household with his jests. - -"The very man," said the contadino to himself; "he'll tell me just -what I ought to do. He has travelled, and seen all manner of things. -He is just the person. Signor Antonio, good morning to your -excellency! What is in the wind to-day?" - -"Nothing but a strong scent of dead carrion that I can smell," -answered Antonio. - -"Well," said the contadino, with a grin, "I do not wonder, for -there's carrion down at our house, and the worst carrion a man think -of, for it's not only dead carrion, but live carrion, too." - -"Alive with maggots. I take you," answered Antonio; "that is a shallow -conceit, Giovanozzo. It hardly needs an ell yard to plumb that." - -"Nay, nay you are not at the bottom of it yet," replied the peasant; -"it is alive and dead, and yet no maggots in it." - -"Then the maggots are in thy brain," answered Antonio. "But speak -plainly, man, speak plainly. If you keep hammering my head with -enigmas, I shall have no brains left to understand your real meaning." - -"Well, then, signor," said the contadino, gravely, "I want advice." - -"And, like a wise man, come to me," replied his companion; "mine is -the very shop to find it; I have plenty always on hand for my -customers, never using any of it myself, and receiving it fresh daily -from those who have it to spare. What sort of advice will you have, -Giovanozzo? the advice interested or disinterested--the advice -fraternal or paternal--the advice minatory, or monitory, or -consolatory--the advice cynical or philosophical?" - -"Nay, but this is a serious matter, signor," answered the contadino. - -"Then you shall have serious advice," answered Antonio. "Proceed. Lay -the case before me in such figures as may best suit its condition, and -I will try and fit my advice thereunto as tight as a jerkin made by a -tailor who loves cabbage more than may consist with the ease of his -customers." - -"Well, let us sit down on this bank," said Giovanozzo, "for it is a -matter which requires much consideration and--" - -"Like a hen's egg, requires to be sat upon," interrupted Antonio. -"Well, in this also I will gratify you, signor. Now to your tale." - -"Why, you must know," proceeded the contadino, "that this morning, an -hour or two ago, just when I was coming up from the well, I saw Judita -and Margarita, with Giulio, carrying something heavy into the house. -It took all their strength, I can tell you, though the man was not a -big man, after all." - -"A man!" exclaimed Antonio; "was it a man they were carrying?" - -"Nothing short of a man," replied Giovanozzo. - -"And yet a short man too," said Antonio. "Was he a dead man?" - -"Yes and no," replied the peasant; "he was dead then, but he is alive -now. But just listen, signor. It seems that a whole troop of these -Frenchmen came down this way at an early hour, on their way to Pavia, -and that they halted at the gates; but before they halted, they saw a -man on horseback, standing at the little turn-down to Signor Manini's -podere; and that, as soon as he saw them, he tried to spur away, but -their spurs were sharper than his; so they caught him and brought him -back. Then, some hours after, up comes another party, and they held a -sort of council over him, and confronted him with two or three other -prisoners, and then strung him up to the branch of the great -mulberry-tree. But presently some one came out of the villa and -ordered him to be cut down, and as soon as that was done they all rode -away, leaving him there lying on the road. That is what Giulio told -me, for he was looking over the wall all the time." - -"Dangerous peeping, Signor Giovanozzo," said Antonio solemnly; "but -what did the lad do, then?" - -"Why, he would have let him lie quiet enough, if he had had his own -way," replied the contadino, "for Giulio is a discreet youth. He takes -after me in the main, and knows when to let well enough alone, when -his mother and his sisters are not at his heels; but the good _madre_ -you know--" and here he added a significant grimace, which finished -the sentence. "However," he continued, "Margarita, who is tiring-woman -to the young contessa, came running out of the villa, and told Giulio -that it was Bianca Maria's orders to see if there was any life in the -man, and try to save him. So they looked at him together, and fancied -they saw his face twitch, and then they called Judita and carried him -down into the house." - -"And then?" asked Antonio. - -"Why, then they sluiced him with cold water, and poured Heaven knows -what all down his throat, or into his mouth, at least." - -"And then?" said Antonio, again. - -"Why, then he began to wake up," replied the contadino, "and now he is -snoring on a table down below, and I dare say he will be all the -better for his hanging." - -"He might have been so, if Giulio had not been too near," answered -Antonio, drily, and then fell into a fit of thought. - -"I am sure the devil has something to do with it," said Giovanozzo, in -an inquiring tone. - -"Beyond doubt," replied Antonio, solemnly; "but whether in the hanging -or the resuscitation, who shall say? However, I will go down and see -the gentleman. Do you know who he is?" - -"One of Signor Buondoni's men, I fancy," replied the peasant. "We hear -the signor was killed last night on the terrace, and I was thinking to -come up and see the corpse. He must lay out handsomely, for he was a -fine-looking man. I saw him by the moonlight just when he came to the -gates yester-evening. I hope you do not think our people will be -blamed by the old count for whatever we have done." - -"Oh, no," replied Antonio, "you have done right well; though, if you -had killed the one and not saved the other, you might have done -better. Now let us go down to your house." - -They walked some hundred yards in silence, and then Antonio said -abruptly, "I wonder what is the good man's name. One of my old -playfellows was in Buondoni's service, I hear. What like is he, -Giovan'?" - -"Why he is little and thin," answered the contadino, "with a big beard -like a German's, and a sharp face. His muzzle is much like a -hedgehog's, only he is as yellow as a lemon." - -"That has to do with the hanging," answered Antonio. "I have seen -many a man hanged when I was in France. The late king, who was no way -tender, did a good deal in that way, and most of those he strung up -were very yellow when they were cut down. I should have thought it -would have turned them blue, but it was not so. However, I think I -know this gentleman, and if so, must have a talk with him before he -goes forth into the wicked world again. I would fain warn him, as a -friend, against bad courses, which, though (as he must have found) -they often lead to elevated places, are sure to end in a fall, and -sometimes in a broken neck. But here we are before your house, -Giovanozzo, and there goes Giulio, seeking you, I expect. Let him go, -man--let him go. I wish you would send Margarita one way after him and -Judita the other, and then get up a little quarrel with your amiable -wife, for I must positively speak with this gentleman alone, and may -bestow some time upon him." - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -By the side of a small bed, in a small room next to the larger one of -which I have already spoken in noticing the usual arrangements of a -contadino's house, sat our friend Antonio, nearly an hour after his -meeting with Giovanozzo. The same man who, some time before, had lain -upon the table in the adjoining chamber now occupied the bed; but he -was apparently sound asleep. The contadino's Xantippe had informed her -husband, or rather Antonio, for whom she entertained much higher -veneration, that the "poor soul," as she called Buondoni's retainer, -had awoke and spoken quite cheerfully, but that he had now fallen into -a more refreshing kind of slumber; and anxious to busy herself about -her household affairs, she had willingly left her patient to Antonio's -care, upon being assured that they were old companions. - -Antonio, as the reader may have remarked, had that curious habit, -common to both sages and simpletons, of occasionally giving vent to -his thoughts in words, even when there was no one to listen to -them--not in low tones, indeed, but in low-muttered murmurs--not in -regular and unbroken soliloquy, but in fragments of sentences, with -lapses of silent meditation between. - -"It is Mardocchi," he said; "it is Mardocchi beyond all doubt. -Mightily changed, indeed, he is--but that scar cutting through the -eyebrow. I remember giving him the wound that made it with the palla." - -He fell into silence again for a few minutes, and then he murmured, -"We used to say he would be hanged. So he has fulfilled his destiny, -and got off better than most men in similar circumstances." Here came -another break, during which the stream of thought ran on still; and -then he said, "Now let any one tell me whether it was better for this -man to be brought to life again or not. His troubles in this life were -all over, he had taken the last hard gasp; the agony, and the -expectation, and the fear were all done and over, and now they have -all to come over again, probably in the very same way too, for he is -certain to get into more mischief, and deserve more hanging, and take -a better hold of Purgatory, even if he do not go farther still. He -never had but one good quality; he would keep his word with you for -good or ill against the devil himself. He had a mighty stubborn will, -and once he had said a thing he would do it." - -Here came another lapse, which lasted about five minutes, and then -Antonio murmured quite indistinctly, "I wonder if he be really asleep! -He could feign anything beautifully, and his eyes seemed to give a -sort of wink just now. We will soon see." Some minutes of silence then -succeeded, and at length Antonio spoke aloud: "No," he said, as if -coming to some fixed and firm conclusion, "no; it would be better for -him himself to die. The good woman did him a bad service. These -Frenchmen will hang him again whenever they catch him, and if there be -any inquiry into the death of Buondoni, they will put him on the rack; -besides, we may all get ourselves into trouble by conniving at his -escape from justice. Better finish it at once while he is asleep, and -before he half knows he has been brought to life again." - -He then unsheathed his dagger, which was both long and broad, tried -the point upon his finger, and gazed at his companion. Still there was -no sign of consciousness. The next moment, however, Antonio rose, -deliberately pushed back his sleeve from his wrist, as if to prevent -it from being soiled with blood, and then raised the dagger high over -the slumbering man. - -The instant he did so, Mardocchi started up, and clasped his wrist, -exclaiming, "Antonio Biondi, what would you do? kill your unhappy -friend?" - -Antonio burst into a loud laugh, saying, "Only a new way of waking a -sleeping man, Mardocchi. The truth is, I have no time to wait till -your shamming is over in the regular course. We have matters of life -and death to talk of; and you must cast away all trick and deceit, and -act straightforwardly with me, that we may act quickly; your own life -and safety depend upon it. Now tell me, what did the Lord of Vitry -hang you for?" - -"His morning's sport, I fancy," answered the man; "but softly, good -friend; you forget I hardly know as yet whether I am of this world or -another. My senses are still all confused, and you, Antonio--my old -playmate--should have some compassion on me." - -"So I have, Mardocchi," answered Antonio; "and, as these good people -have brought you back to life, I wish to save you from being sent out -of it again more quickly than you fancy." - -"Where is the danger?" asked Mardocchi, hesitating. - -"That is just what I want to discover," said the other; "not vaguely, -not generally, but particularly, in every point. General dangers I can -see plenty, but I must know all the particular ones, in order to place -you in safety. Do you know that your lord, Buondoni, is dead?" - -"Ay, so the good woman told me," replied the other; "killed by that -young cub of the Viscontis. Curses on him!" - -Antonio marked both the imprecation and the expression of countenance -with which it was uttered; but he did not follow the scent at once. -"Do you know at whose prayer you were cut down?" he asked. - -"They tell me at the instance of the Signorina de Rovera," replied -Mardocchi; "a young thing I think she is. I saw her once, I believe, -with the Princess of Ferrara. If I live, I will find some way to repay -her." - -"Well, that is just the question," replied Antonio, "if you are to -live or die? Hark you, Mardocchi! you must tell me all, if you would -have me save you." - -"But can you, will you save me?" inquired the man; "and yet why should -I fear? The Frenchmen cut me down themselves, I am told." - -"Ay, but they are very likely to hang you up again, if they find you -out of sight of the pretty lady who interceded for you. Nay, more, -Mardocchi: all men believe that you were deep in the secrets of -Buondoni and of the Count Regent through him. Now, as you know, the -King of France is very likely to put you to the rack if he finds you, -to make you tell those secrets; and your good friend Ludovic the Moor, -is very likely to strangle you, to make sure that you keep them." - -Mardocchi made no reply, for he knew there was much truth in Antonio's -words; but, after a moment's pause, the other proceeded, "You must get -out of Lombardy as fast as possible, my good friend." - -"But where can I go? what can I do?" asked the unhappy man. "I have -lost my only friend and patron. I am known all through this part of -the country. I almost wish the women had let me alone." - -"It might have been better," said Antonio in a meditative tone. "'Once -for all' is a good proverb, Mardocchi. However, I think I could help -you if I liked; I think I could get you out of Lombardy, and into the -Romagna, and find you a good master, who wants just such a fellow as -yourself." - -"Then do it! do it!" cried Mardocchi, eagerly; "do it for old -companionship; do it, because, for that old companionship, I have -forgiven more to you than I ever forgave to any other man. Why should -you not do it?" - -"There is but one reason," answered Antonio, gravely, "and that lies -in your own words. When you spoke of Lorenzo Visconti just now, you -called down curses upon him. Now he is my lord and my friend. I was -placed near him by Lorenzo the Magnificent, and promised I would -always help and protect him. Do you think I should be doing either if -I aided to save a man who would murder him the first opportunity? I -always keep my word, Mardocchi." - -"And so do I," answered Mardocchi, gloomily. "Sacchi and the rest told -all they knew to the Frenchman, out of fear for their pitiful lives, -and they saved themselves. I refused to tell anything, because I had -promised not, and they strung me up to the branch of a tree. But I -will promise you, Antonio, I will never raise my hand against the -young man. I shall hate him ever, but--" - -"Let me think," said Antonio; and, after meditating for a moment, he -added, "there are ways of destroying him without raising your hand -against him: there is the cord. Listen to my resolution, Mardocchi, -and you know I will keep it: if you will promise me not to take his -life in any way--for I know you right well--I will help you, for old -companionship, to escape, and to join a noble lord in the Romagna; -but, if you do not promise, I will make sure of you by other means. -I have but to speak a word, and you are on the branch of the -mulberry-tree again--" - -"Stop, stop!" said Mardocchi; "do not threaten me. I am -weak--sick--hardly yet alive, but I do not like threats. The crushed -adder bites. Let me think: I hate him," he continued, slowly, -recovering gradually from the excitement under which he had first -spoken. "I shall always hate him, but that is no reason I should kill -him. I have never promised to kill him--never even threatened to kill -him. If I had, I would do it or die; but I do not like death. I have -tasted it, and no man likes to eat of that dish twice. It is very -bitter; and I promise you in your own words, Antonio. But you likewise -must remember your promise to me." - -"Did you ever know me fail?" said the other. "The first thing is to -get you well, the next to shave off that long beard and those wild -locks, and then, with a friar's gown and the cord of St. Francis, I -will warrant I get you in the train of one of these French lords. Can -you enact a friar, think you, Mardocchi?" - -"Oh, yes," said Mardocchi, with a bitter grin, "I can drink and -carouse all night, tell a coarse tale with a twinkling eye, laugh loud -at a small jest, and do foul services for a small reward, if it be to -save my life; but then I cannot speak these people's language, -Antonio." - -"All the better--all the better," answered Antonio; "many of them know -a little Italian, and hard questions put in a foreign tongue, are -easily parried. It would be a good thing for one half of the world if -it did not understand what the other half said." - -"But who is this good lord to whom you are going to send me?" asked -the man. "Is he a courtier or a soldier." - -"A little of both," answered Antonio, "but more a man of counsel than -either. His name is Ramiro d'Orco." - -"Ah! I have heard of him," said Mardocchi. "He puzzles the people -about the court. All men think that at heart he has vast ambition, and -yet none can tell you why he thinks so. All agree in that, though some -think he is a philosopher, some a simpleton." - -"Well, well," answered Antonio, "the first thing is for you to recover -health and strength, the next to get you safely away, the third to -make you known to the Signor Ramiro. He is the sort of man to suit -your views. I know him well. He is rich, and, as you say, ambitious. -He is wise, too, in a certain way; and though he has not yet found a -path to the objects he aims at, he will find one in time, or make one, -even were he to hew it through his own flesh and blood. He wants -serviceable men about him, and that is the reason I send you to him. -If he rises, he will pull you up; if he falls, there is no need he -should pull you down with him. But we will converse more to-morrow; -to-day you have talked enough, perhaps too much." - -"But, Antonio, Antonio," said the other, eagerly catching his sleeve, -"you will tell no one that I am here?" - -"No one on earth," answered Antonio; and, bidding him farewell, he -left him. - -The journey of Antonio back to the villa was somewhat longer than it -needed to have been. He took devious and circuitous paths, and even -turned back for a part of the way more than once. It was not, however, -that he fancied himself watched, or that he feared that any one might -discover where he had been; but his brain was very busy, and he did -not wish his thoughts interrupted till they had reached certain -conclusions from which they were distant when he set out. He asked -himself if he could really trust to Mardocchi's word, knowing but too -well how predominant the desire of revenge is in every Italian heart. -He half accused himself of folly in having promised him so much; and -though he was, in truth, a good and sincere man, yet the common habits -and feelings of his country every now and then suggested that it would -be easy to put an end to all doubt and suspicion, if he saw cause, by -the use of the Italian panacea, the stiletto. "But yet," he said to -himself, "it may be better to take my chance of his good faith, and -let him live. I never knew him break his word, and by his means, -perhaps, I may penetrate some of Signor Ramiro's purposes in regard to -young Lorenzo. I will tie him down to some promise on that point too. -He will need my help yet in many ways; and though I will not set a man -to betray his master, yet I may well require him to warn his friends." - -It was an age and a country in which men dealt peculiarly in -subtleties, so much so, indeed, that right and truth were often -refined away to nothing, especially in the higher and better educated -classes of society. The bravo, indeed, was often a more -straightforward and truthful man than the nobleman who employed him. -He would own frankly that he was committing a great sin; but then he -had faith in the Virgin, and she would obtain remission for him. His -employer would find a thousand reasons to justify the deed, and would -so pile up motives and necessities in self-defence that it would seem -almost doubtful which was most to be pitied, himself or his victim. -Antonio was by no means without this spirit of casuistry; and though -no man could cut through a long chain of pretences with more trenchant -wit than he could, in the case of another, yet he might not -unfrequently employ them in his own. He resolved, therefore, not to -engage Mardocchi to betray his master's secrets, but only to reveal -them when it was necessary that he, Antonio, should know them. The -difference, indeed, was very slight, but it was sufficient to satisfy -him. - -Antonio's mind then naturally reverted to Ramiro d'Orco, and he asked -himself again and again what could be the motive which led a man so -famous for stoical hardness to show such tenderness and consideration -for Lorenzo Visconti. "It may be," he thought, "that this grim old -tyrant thinks it a splendid match for his daughter. But then they say -she has a magnificent fortune of her own--her dower that of a -princess. There must be some other end in view. She is a glorious -creature too, midway between Juno and Sappho. Well, we must wait and -watch. Heaven knows how it will all turn out. Perhaps, after all, -Ramiro has some scheme against one of the princes of Romagna, in which -he hopes to engage the King of France through young Lorenzo's -influence.--It is so, I think--it is so, surely. He wants serviceable -men, too, and asked me if I knew of any. Well, I think I have fitted -him with one at least, and he will owe me something for the good turn. -But I must hie homeward, and keep these things to myself. No more -interfering between Lorenzo and his young love. He bore my warnings -badly this morning: I must let things take their course, and try to -guide without opposing." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -Milan had its attractions even for the gay court of France. It was a -devout and dissolute city; and we know how jovially, in some countries -and at some times, dissoluteness and devotion have contrived to jog on -together. Pastime and penitence, pleasure and penance, alternated -among the courtiers of Charles VIII. with very agreeable variety; and -it has been whispered that the young king himself was not unwilling -either to finger forbidden fruit, or to express contrition afterward. -At all events, he wasted many precious days in the Lombard capital. -Morning after morning, fresh detachments of his army were sent forward -to Pavia, till that city might be considered in possession of his -troops; but still the young king lingered, and it was not till nine -days after the events we have recorded in the last two or three -chapters that the main host of France took its way southward. - -How passed the intermediate time with those we have left in the Villa -de Rovera? It was very sweetly. We must not dwell upon it, because it -was so sweet; but a few words will tell all. Lorenzo almost longed to -remain an invalid, that there might be a fair excuse for Leonora's -tending; and Leonora feared to see him recover health and strength too -soon, lest the order to depart should hurry him away. - -Strange tales are told of the effects of Italian poisons in those -days, and doubtless much exaggeration mingles with all the accounts we -have received, but certain it is, that, though the youth recovered -steadily, each day gaining a little, yet his convalescence was slow, -and the subtle bane of Buondoni's sword was more or less felt for many -after days. Still no order to march arrived, but every day, about -noon, the good Lord de Vitry rode over, well attended, from Pavia to -inquire after the health of his young friend; and although it is -certain that Leonora could have given him more minute accounts of -Lorenzo's state, and the old Count de Rovera could have furnished him -with juster and more scientific views of Lorenzo's progress towards -recovery, it was always Bianca Maria he first asked for. He speedily -became a great favorite with the old count nevertheless. There was -something in his frank, soldier-like bearing that pleased, and -something in his ever merry conversation that amused the old man, so -that he began to wish the day far distant when the noble Lord of Vitry -would come no more. - -Bianca Maria was very happy too, and she gave the rein to happiness -without fear. Neither she nor De Vitry ever dreamed that he was making -love. She thought herself too young to be the object of passion, and -he thought so too. He fancied he should like to have a daughter just -like herself, without the slightest change in thought or look--he -would not have had a word she said altered--he would not have parted -with one ringlet from her head; and she pictured to herself how -pleasant it would have been to have an elder brother just like De -Vitry. - -At the house of the contadino all went on favourably likewise. Antonio -visited the place every day, till at length, one morning early, he -walked forth with a sandaled friar, who passed round the wall of the -podere with him, and mounted a mule which was held by a little -peasant-boy. Some ten minutes after, a troop of twenty French lances -rode slowly on towards Pavia, and the friar, by Antonio's -intercession, was permitted to join himself to the band. The contadino -and the contadino's wife were for once satisfied with the same thing. - -At length, however, the eventful day arrived when the King of France -commenced his march from Milan against Naples. Drum, and trumpet, and -pennon, and banderol, and long lines of glittering lances, and -gorgeous surcoats, and splendid suits of armour, passed along the road -within sight of the Villa Rovera, and though no absolute order had -arrived commanding Lorenzo to join his troop and assume the command -which had been bestowed upon him, yet, as he gazed upon the passing -host from the higher windows, he felt that duty required him to linger -no longer, and that the next day, at the latest, he was bound to tear -himself away from those who, in the short space of a few weeks, had -become so dear to him. He felt sad; and yet there was something to a -young and eager mind like his, in the inspiring sight of military -array, which had its consolatory influence. He thought of acquiring -glory and renown for Leonora's sake, and returning to her with bright -fame and a glorious name, with a proud consciousness of courage and of -skill in arms. "If we must part--" he said to himself. - -If they were to part! That was the consideration most painful, for he -had flattered himself every day with the hope that the promised letter -of Ramiro d'Orco would arrive, giving him authority to escort his fair -promised bride to join her father: and oh! how many enchanted scenes -had Fancy fabricated out of the vague shadows of that expected -journey! No letter had arrived; the army was on its march; he could -delay no longer; and the bitterness of disappointment was added to the -bitterness of anticipated separation. - -The last troopers of the main host of France disappeared; and Leonora -gazed in Lorenzo's eyes, knowing, divining what was passing in his -heart, as they stood, together, with Bianca Maria gazing from the -neighbouring window. - -"You must go, Lorenzo," said the beautiful girl, "you must go, I know -it. Fear not to speak the words; Leonora would not keep you from the -path of fame and honour if she could. It will be very terrible, but -still you must go. I had hoped, indeed--" - -"See! see!" cried Bianca Maria: "there are more horsemen coming. It is -the king himself and his court; I remember well the array; and there -is Count Ludovic, on the monarch's left." - -Leonora and her lover turned to the window again, and saw the royal -train sweep on towards them. But suddenly the king drew in his rein -just opposite the gates. He did not dismount; but a horseman dashed -out from the escort, and rode into the court-yard of the villa. - -"It is the order," said Lorenzo, in a low voice, "it is the order, and -I must run down to receive it." - -The two lovely girls followed him quickly; for theirs was an age when -nature's impulses have not been curbed and disciplined, restrained and -checked, either by the iron rules of a factitious state of society or -the harder and more terrible shackles of experience. At the bottom of -the great staircase he found the old Count of Rovera speaking with one -of the king's officers, out of whose mouth he took the words of the -monarch's message, saying, as soon as he saw Lorenzo, "His Majesty the -King of France, my young cousin, desires your presence without. He has -not time to dismount, this noble gentleman tells me, otherwise he -would have honoured our poor house by his presence." - -Lorenzo hurried away unbonneted, and the count, looking with a smile -at his cousin and granddaughter, said gaily: - -"Now would I wager this jewel against a fool's bauble that you girls -would give your ears to hear the conference. If so, take the rich -peaches Giovanozzo brought just now--one take them on the gold salver, -and let the other carry out a cup of our best wine to refresh the -monarch after his long ride." - -But there is an innate modesty which requires no teaching of art, and -Leonora answered: - -"I pray you excuse me, sir; they are all men there without, and we -should blush to obtrude ourselves upon the gaze of so many eyes." - -As she spoke a warm glow came upon the face of Bianca Maria, but it -was not her cousin's words that called it there. A shadow darkened the -doorway, and the sound of a step well-known to the young girl's ear -was heard, which brought the joyous blood from the heart to the cheek -in a moment. - -"I have stolen away," said De Vitry, "like a thief, and I have been a -thief, too, sweet ladies, and my noble lord. Just before I set out -from Pavia to meet the king, a courier came from Bologna; and, good -faith, when I found out what he carried, I made free to rob him of his -bags, not knowing who else might finger them. That letter for you, my -lord count--that for you, Signora Leonora; and here is one also for -Visconti, which I may as well trust to you also, very sure you will -deliver it safely." - -"And none for me?" asked Blanche Marie, with a faint smile. - -"None--only a message," said De Vitry, while the others busied -themselves with their letters they had received; and, as he spoke, he -drew the fair young girl aside, adding, "I must deliver it quickly, -for I must be back ere I am missed." - -What he said to her in that low whisper, who shall tell? Her cheek -turned pale, and then glowed crimson red, and her knees shook, and her -lips quivered, so as to stop the words that struggled for utterance, -and yet there was joy in her eyes. It was as if he had given her the -key of some treasury in her own heart which overwhelmed her with the -first sight of the riches within. - -"A soldier's love, a soldier's hand, a noble name, an honourable -name--that is all I have to offer," were the words of De Vitry. "I -know I am nearly old enough to be your father; but if you don't mind -that, I don't." - -He paused a moment as if for an answer, while Blanche Marie stood -still trembling and silent; and, with a shade upon his broad, frank -brow, he was turning away, when she murmured: - -"Stay! stay!" and, drawing the glove from her hand, she put it into -his. - -"I will carry it into the cannon's mouth," he said, hiding it in his -scarf; and then he kissed her hand, and returned to the old count and -her fair cousin. "Lady, I must go," he said, taking Leonora's gloved -hand, and bending over it. "My lord the count, farewell. We shall all -meet again soon, I hope; and, in the meantime, you shall hear no evil -of De Vitry, unless some of those foul cannon shot carry off his head. -Adieu! adieu!" - -In the meantime, Lorenzo had hurried forth, and stood by the side of -the king's horse. Charles gazed kindly at him, and inquired after his -health, while Ludovic the Moor bent his eyes upon him, but without -suffering the slightest shade of enmity to cross his face. - -"How goes it with you, fair cousin?" asked the king: "think you that -you are able to ride on with the army towards Naples in a day or two?" - -"Quite able, sir," answered the young man; "to-morrow, if it should be -your Majesty's pleasure." - -"Pale--pale," said the monarch, who seemed to have been studying his -countenance. "Is that with loss of blood, Lorenzo, or the venom of the -sword?" - -"I lost little blood, sire," answered the young man; "but the poison -was very deadly, and required both skill and careful nursing to bring -me through with life." - -"Now curses upon the foul heart and foul mind," exclaimed the young -king, "that first conceived so dastardly a wickedness as that of -smearing a good honest sword-blade with a deadly drug." - -The face of Ludovic the Moor turned somewhat white, and his lip -curled. - -"Your Majesty's curse," he said, "must go somewhat far back, and -somewhat low down; for the art was invented long ago, and the man who -invented it, if he is to be damned at all, is very well damned by this -time." - -"Well, then, my curse shall have greater extent, noble sir," replied -the king, frowning; "I will add--and curses be upon every one who uses -such dark treachery." - -The regent did not reply, but there were very angry feelings in his -heart; and it is probable that nothing but the knowledge that the -dominions over which he ruled, and which he intended should soon be -his own in pure possession, were absolutely at the mercy of the French -king's soldiery, prevented him from seeking vengeance. Indeed, nothing -but fear can account for a man so unscrupulous having endured the -mortifications which Charles inflicted upon him during the French stay -in Lombardy; but it must be remembered that not only were many of his -towns and castles in possession of the French, and others without any -preparation for resistance, but that his own person was every hour -within reach of the French swords, and that, though not quite a -prisoner in his own court, he might become so any moment, if he -excited suspicion or gave offence to the young monarch. He endured in -silence then, and treasured his vengeance for a future day. - -An unpleasant pause succeeded; and then Charles, turning to Lorenzo, -continued the conversation, saying, "So you think yourself quite ready -to ride. Well, then, join us to-morrow at Pavia, Lorenzo. Methinks no -one, however high his station, will venture to assail you when near -our own person. Yet, as it is evident from what has already happened, -that some one in this land would fain remove you to a better, you -shall have a guard with you, and must not walk the streets of Pavia -unattended. Where is De Vitry? We will give orders for a part of your -troop in his company to join you here to-night." - -"He has gone into the villa for a moment, sire," replied Lorenzo, "for -the purpose, I believe, of bidding adieu to the good old count, as I -presume your majesty marches on speedily." - -"Nay, he will have plenty of time hereafter," said Charles; "I shall -not leave Pavia for some days. I have matters to inquire into; but, in -the mean time, I will give orders for the men to join you to-night; -and methinks a score of French lances will be sufficient to protect -you from any number of Buondonis who may be inclined or hired to -assassinate you." - -There was an insulting tone of superiority in the young king's voice -and manner, which could not have been very sweet to the Regent -Ludovic, but he seemed still to pay no attention to the monarch's -words, gazing forward on the road without change of countenance, as if -busy with his own thoughts. - -"Ah! here comes De Vitry," said the young king. "Mount, mount, my lord -marquis. Adieu, my fair cousin Lorenzo. I will give the orders;" and, -thus saying, he rode on. - -Lorenzo saw the train depart and pass away, receiving many a -good-natured greeting from old friends in the king's suite as it filed -off along the road. When he returned to the vestibule of the villa -with a somewhat gloomy heart, he found the old Count of Rovera, with -the two young girl's, still there and apparently in earnest -conversation; but Leonora exclaimed, as soon as she saw him, "When -must you go, Lorenzo?" - -"To-morrow," said the young man sadly. - -"Oh, then you will have plenty of time," exclaimed Blanche Marie, -addressing her beautiful cousin. - -"To do what?" asked Lorenzo. - -"To get ready to go with you," answered Leonora, "if you will be -troubled with such a companion. Here is a letter for you from my -father which will probably explain all. I have had another from him, -telling me to come on with you, and join him at Bologna, if you have a -sufficient train to render our journey secure; but he says there is -little or no danger by the way." - -The old Count of Rovera shook his head with a disapproving look, -murmuring, "Mighty great danger on the way, I think. On my life, I -believe Ramiro is mad; but I must admonish the youth strictly before -he goes, and take care that she has plenty of women about her." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -"See, De Vitry, that a force of twenty lances be sent from Pavia to -our young cousin ere night," said the king; "that will be enough for -his protection, my lord regent, I presume?" - -"More than enough, sire," replied Ludovic, somewhat sternly. -"Himself alone, with a few of his own servants, could pass quite -safely--except, indeed, in case of some sudden tumult." - -"Which tumults are easily raised in this Italy of yours," replied the -young monarch. "It is therefore better he should have a French pennon -with him. Methinks, after our alliance, offensive and defensive, no -one will dare to attack that, my lord regent." - -Ludovic bit his lip, but then he smiled grimly, saying, "Not unless he -should chance to encounter the forces of our dear cousin Alphonso, -King of Naples, coming to drive the poor Sforzas out of Milan, and -give your majesty some trouble in the plains of Lombardy. They would -not, methinks, show much reverence for a French pennon, nor even for -the banner of France itself." - -"'Tis strange we have no news," said Charles, with a shadow on his -brow; "our last intelligence dates the 14th of last month, and then -the Neapolitan fleet were under full sail." - -"It is possible that Prince Frederick, who commands his brother's -fleet, may have defeated the Duke of Orleans and landed in Tuscany, -sire," observed Ludovic; "in that case we shall hear nothing of the -enemy till we see him. May it not be better for me to summon all my -forces, and march with your majesty till we are assured the roads are -open? I can gather twenty thousand men together, from different -garrisons, in eight days, but I have only four thousand now in Pavia." - -The king seemed to hesitate; but just then De Vitry, who was riding -half a horse's length behind on the king's right, raised his voice, -saying bluntly, "Better wait decision till we are in the city, my -liege, and then I will tell your majesty why." - -"Better wait till then, at all events," said the king, thoughtfully; -"but what is your reason, De Vitry?" - -"Simply this, my liege," said the good soldier; "in the grey of the -morning there came in a courier from Bologna. He said he was bound by -his orders to stay in Pavia till your majesty arrived or sent. But he -had letters for you, sire, which he would show to no one; and some -private letters for the camp, which I took from him. They gave no -tidings, however, that I could learn." - -"Did he give no intelligence himself?" asked Ludovic, eagerly. - -"He was mightily cautious of committing himself, Sir Count," answered -De Vitry, drily; "a most discreet and silent messenger, I can assure -you." - -All parties fell into silence, and rode on for about half a mile at a -slow pace, when the count regent turned to the king, saying, "Here I -will spur on, so please you, sire. I would fain see that all is -rightly prepared to receive you royally. I have been obliged to trust -that care to others hitherto; but I would fain confirm the assurances -given me by my people, by my own eyesight." Charles bowed his head -with a somewhat doubtful look, and Ludovic instantly forced his horse -forward with great speed. Some twenty horsemen drew out from the rest -of the cavalcade and followed him, and Charles turned his head toward -De Vitry with an inquiring look. - -"Let him go, sire--let him go," said De Vitry, in a low voice, -spurring up to the king's side; "he can do no harm. I have cared for -all that. I have so posted our men that he has no more power in Pavia -than an Indian has. Lucky that you sent me on as your quarter-master -some days before; for I had time to fix on all the commanding spots; -and as I passed the army this morning, I gave the leaders -instructions, and furnished them with guides to their several -quarters. But, what is more important still, if your majesty will bend -your ear for a moment, I drew from this courier, upon promise that I -would not deprive him of his largesse, but add something on my own -part, that the good Duke of Orleans, with his little squadron, had -contrived to drive back the whole Neapolitan fleet into Naples. Had he -had galleys enough he would have taken half of them, and, perhaps, -Prince Frederick into the bargain. As it was, he could only take one -galley and sink another. The news is certain, sire; so Signor -Ludovic's cunning scheme of joining his men with yours must fail." - -"Think you he meant mischief?" asked the young king, whose face had -gradually been lighted up as his gallant officer spoke. - -"He meant to have the power of doing mischief or not as he pleased," -replied De Vitry; "with twenty thousand men, sire, while you had -certain enemies and uncertain friends before you, he might have proved -a dangerous comrade on the march whenever he chose to turn traitor, -which he will do, depend upon it, at the slightest reverse. A man who -can shut up his own nephew and ward, with the poor lad's wife and -child, in the castle of Pavia, and feed them all three upon slow -poison till there is no strength left in any of them, cannot be well -trusted, sire." - -"Has he done that," exclaimed the young king, with his cheek flushing -and his eyes all in a blaze; "has he done that?" - -"I have it from the very best authority," replied the other. "I cannot -speak from my own knowledge; for they would not let me into the -castle; but I have been told so by those who know; and if he were not -afraid of letting you see what is going on in that dark old fortress, -why should he not assign you the magnificent rooms, where so many -Lombard kings and Roman emperors have sat, and put the gates in -possession of your troops? The house he has had prepared for your -majesty is fine enough; but it is but a citizen's house, after all; -and, depend upon it, there are things within the walls of the castle -he would not have you see with your own eyes." - -"He shall find himself mistaken," said the young king--"he shall find -himself mistaken. I will see, and that at once. How many men have we -with us now, De Vitry?" - -"Some four hundred, I should guess, sire," replied the officer; "but -there are a thousand more in the little guard-house square at the -gates, ready to escort your majesty to your dwelling." - -"That is right! that is right!" said Charles, with a smile; "let us -put our horses to a quicker pace, good friend. We will be upon the -worthy regent's heels before he expects us." - -In three-quarters of an hour, Charles and his escort had reached the -gates of Pavia. There was bustle and some disarray among the Lombard -soldiers on guard; for the monarch had appeared before he was -expected; but they hurried forth from the guard-houses to salute him -as he passed, and the French men-at-arms and soldiers in the little -square were up and arrayed in a minute. At the entrance of the street -leading from the Milan gate into the heart of the city--a street which -the reader may well remember, from its gloomy aspect, specially if he -have entered Pavia on a rainy day--a gallant party of horsemen, -dressed in the robes of peace, advanced to meet the King of France, -and, after due salutation, told him they had been sent by the regent -to conduct him to his dwelling. - -"Good! We will follow you speedily," said the monarch; "but there is -one visit we have to pay first, which cannot be omitted. In kingly -courtesy and in kindred kindness we are bound to set foot to the -ground in Pavia, for the first time, at the dwelling of our young -cousin, the Duke Giovan Galeazzo. Lead on to the castle, De Vitry, and -let the whole train follow. We will then accompany these good -gentlemen to the dwelling prepared for us by the regent's kindness." - -Some consternation was apparent among the retainers of the Count -Ludovic; they spoke together in whispers; but the young king showed no -inclination to wait for the conclusion of their deliberation, and rode -on, guided by De Vitry, merely saying to the Lombard nobles, with a -somewhat stern look, "Gentlemen, we hope for your escort to the -castle." - -They did not dare to disobey an invitation which was so like a -command; and the whole cavalcade moved onward toward the citadel, with -the exception of one small page, who slunk away at the first corner of -a street they came to, and was no further seen. It was not long ere -the frowning barbican, with its drawbridge and portcullis, appeared -before the royal party; and Charles, turning to the retainers, said, -with a somewhat bitter smile, "Will you request the warders to open -the gates for the King of France, to visit his fair cousin the duke? -We must not summon them ourselves, having so many armed men with us; -for that might seem too peremptory." - -There was a moment of doubt and hesitation, evidently, on the part of -the envoys. The men-at-arms nearest the king, who, with the quick wit -of Frenchmen, seemed to comprehend the whole situation in a moment, -grasped their lances more firmly; and the king's brow began to darken -at finding his orders disobeyed. Upon that moment hung the fate of -Pavia, and perhaps of Lombardy; but it ended by one of the Lombard -nobles riding forward and speaking to the officer at the gates. -Whether he heard or not the sound of horses' feet at a gallop, I -cannot tell, but certain it is that while he seemed to parley with the -soldiers, who were apparently unwilling to open the gates even at his -command, Ludovic the Moor, with two or three attendants, dashed into -the open space before the barbican, and rode quickly to the front. He -had had notice of the young monarch's movements, and his part was -decided in a moment. - -"How now, sirrah!" he exclaimed, addressing the soldiers beneath the -gateway in a loud and angry tone, "do you keep the King of France -waiting before the gates like a lackey? Throw open the gates! Down -with the drawbridge! My lord king," he continued, with bated breath, -"I regret exceedingly that these men should have detained you; but -they are faithful fools, and take no orders but from me or my dear -nephew. Had your majesty hinted your intention, orders to admit you -instantly would have been long since given. I proposed to introduce -you to-morrow to the duke, with due ceremony; but you are always -determined to take your servants by surprise." - -Charles coloured a little, and felt himself rebuked; but when the -regent sprang to the ground and would have held his stirrup, he would -not permit him, taking the arm of De Vitry, and bowing his head -courteously, but without reply. At the gates, De Vitry drew back, -suffering the king and Ludovic to pass on; but they had hardly reached -the second gates, when the archway of the barbican and the drawbridge -were taken possession of by the French soldiers, who began gaily -talking to the Italians, though the latter understood not a word they -said. The Lombard nobles looked sullen and discontented; but they sat -still on their horses, little accustomed to the dashing impudence of -the French, and not knowing well what demeanour to assume toward men -who came as their friends and allies, but who so soon showed that they -considered themselves their masters. - -In the mean time, each followed only by a page, the king and the count -regent walked on through several dim passages and lofty, ill-lighted -halls. Few attendants were observed about, and Ludovic took notice of -none of them till he reached a large and apparently more modern -saloon, where an old man, somewhat richly dressed, stood at a door on -the other side. Him he beckoned up, saying, "Tell my dear nephew, -Franconi, that I am bringing his Majesty the King of France to visit -him. This royal lord, considering the duke's ill health, dispenses -with the first visit. Will your majesty take a cup of wine after your -long ride? It will just give the old seneschal time to announce your -coming, lest such an unexpected honour should agitate the poor boy too -much." - -"I thank you, my lord, I am not thirsty," answered the king, drily, -"and, for certain reasons given by my physicians, I drink but little -wine." - -A slight and somewhat mocking smile passed over the hard features of -Ludovic, as if he suspected some fear in the mind of Charles, and -gloried, rather than felt shame, in an evil reputation. Both remained -silent; and in a few minutes the old man returned to usher them into -the presence of the young duke. - -Oh! what a sad sight it was when the seneschal, now joined by two -inferior officers, threw open the door of a chamber at the end of the -adjacent corridor, and displayed to the eyes of Charles the faded form -of Giovan Galeazzo, the young Duke of Milan, stretched upon a -richly-ornamented bed, and covered with a dressing gown of cloth of -gold. The corpse of Inez de Castro seemed only the more ghastly from -the regal garments which decked her mouldering frame; and the -splendour of the apartment, the decoration of the bed, and the -glistening bedgown only gave additional wanness to the face of the -unhappy Duke of Milan. Once pre-eminently handsome, and with features -finely chiselled still, tall and perfectly formed, not yet twenty -years of age, he lay there a living skeleton. His cheek was pale as -ashes; his brow of marble whiteness; the thin but curling locks of jet -black hair falling wildly round his forehead; his lips hardly tinted -with red; and a preternatural light in his dark eyes, which gave more -terrible effect to the deathly pallor of his countenance. - -A sweet, a wonderfully sweet smile played round his mouth when he saw -the young King of France; and he raised himself feebly on his elbow to -greet him as he approached. - -"Welcome, my most noble lord, the king," he said in a weak voice; -"this is indeed most kind of your majesty to visit your poor cousin, -whom duty would have called to your feet long ago, had not sore -sickness kept him prisoner. But, alas! from this bed I cannot -move--never shall again, I fear." - -Charles seated himself by the unhappy young man's side, and kindly -took his hand. They were first cousins; their age was nearly the same, -and well might the young monarch's bosom thrill with compassion and -sympathy for the unhappy duke. - -"I grieve," said the king, "to see you so very ill, fair cousin; but I -trust you will be better soon, the heats of summer have probably -exhausted you, and----" - -Giovan Galeazzo shook his head almost impatiently, and turned a -meaning look upon his uncle. - -"Has this continued long?" asked the king. - -"It began with my entrance into this accursed fortress," replied the -youth, "now some two years ago. It has been slow, but very, very -certain. Day by day, hour by hour, it has preyed upon me, till there -is not a sound part left." - -"He fancies that the air disagrees with him," said Ludovic the Moor, -"but the physicians say it is not so; and we have had so many tumults -and insurrections in the land, that, for his own safety, it is needful -he should make his residence in some strong place." - -"For my safety!" murmured the unhappy duke; "for my destruction. -Tumults, ay, tumults--would I could strike the instigator of them! -'Tis not alone the air, good uncle; 'tis the water also. 'Tis -everything I eat and drink in this hateful place." - -"The caprice of sickness, believe me, nephew," answered Ludovic, -bending his heavy brows upon him. "You are too ill to have appetite." - -"Ay, but I have thirst enough," replied the young man; "one must eat -and drink, you know, my lord the king. Would it were not so." - -"It often happens, I have heard," said Charles, addressing himself to -the regent, "that what a sick man fancies will cure him, is of a -higher virtue than all medicines--what he believes destructive, will -destroy him. He says, I think, he was quite well till he came here." - -"Oh, how well!" exclaimed the dying prince; "life was then a blessing -indeed, and now a curse. Each breath of air, each pleasant sight or -sound, went thrilling through my veins with the wild revelry of joy. -The song birds and the flowers were full of calm delight, and a -gallop over the breezy hill was like a madness of enjoyment. But -now--now--now---how is it all changed now! Verily, as the wise man -said, 'The song of the grasshopper is a burden.'" - -"We must change all this," said Charles, greatly moved; "we must have -you forth from Pavia to some purer air. My own physician shall see -you." - -The unfortunate young man shook his head, and again turned his eyes -upon his uncle with a meaning look. - -"It is vain, my lord the king," he said, "or rather it is too late. My -sickness has obtained too great a mastery. The subtle enemy has got me -completely in his toils--the sickness I mean; he has got me in every -limb, in every vein; a little more and a little more each day--do you -understand me, sire?--and he will never loose his hold while I have a -breath or a pulsation left. But I have a wife, you know, and a -child--a fine boy--who is to be Duke of Milan. For them I crave your -royal protection. Let them be as your wards--indeed, I will make them -so. If--if," he continued, hesitating, and turning a furtive glance -towards his uncle; "if I could see your majesty alone, I would -communicate my last wishes." - -"You shall--you shall see me," said Charles, with a gush of feeling -which brought the tears to his eyes. But those feelings were destined -to be still more excited. - -While he yet spoke there was a noise without, and a woman's voice was -heard speaking in high and excited tones. - -"I _will_ pass," she said, "who dares to oppose me? I will speak with -the noble King of France; he is my cousin--he will be my protector." - -The moment after the door burst open, and a beautiful young girl--for -she was no more--entered, and threw herself at Charles's feet. Her -hair had fallen from its bandages, and flowed in beautiful profusion -over her neck and shoulders. Her dress, though rich, was torn, as if -main force had been employed to detain her, and her eyes were full of -the eagerness and fire of a late struggle. Ludovic the Moor turned -pale, and two men, who appeared at the door by which she entered, made -him a gesture of inquiry, as if asking him whether they should tear -her from the king's feet. Ludovic answered not but by a frown; and in -the meantime the princess poured forth her tale and her petitions in a -voice that trembled with anxiety, and hope, and terror. - -"Protect us, oh, my lord the king," she cried, "protect us! Do not -raise me; I cannot rise, I will not rise, till you have promised to -protect us. Protect us from that man--from that base relative, false -guardian, traitor, subject. Look upon my husband, my lord; see him -lying there withered, feeble, powerless; and yet but two years -ago--oh, how beautiful and strong and active he was! What has done -this? What can have done it but drugs mixed with his daily food? Who -can have done it but he who seeks to open for himself a way to the -ducal seat of Milan? Why is he here confined, a captive in his own -dukedom, in his own city, in his own house? Why is he not suffered to -breathe the free air, to control his own actions, to name his own -officers and servants? Tumults! who instigates the tumults? The people -love their prince--have always loved him; cheers and applause went -wherever he trod; he passed fearlessly among them as among his -brethren, till his kind uncle there, in his tender care for his -safety, first stirred up a tumult by one of his own edicts, and then -shut his sovereign up in a prison in everything but name. Deliver us, -my lord king, from this captivity! Have compassion upon my lord, have -compassion upon me, have compassion upon our poor helpless child! If -ever your noble heart has burned at a tale of long and unredressed -wrong--if ever it has melted at a story of unmerited suffering--if -ever your eyes have overflowed at the thought of cruelty shown to a -woman and a child--as you are mighty, as you are noble, as you are a -Christian, deliver us from the heavy yoke we bear! As king, as -Christian, as knight, deliver us!" - -"I will--I will," answered Charles, raising her and seating her by -him; "by every title you have given me, you have a right to demand my -aid, and I am bound to give it. My good cousin the count, this must be -seen to at once. I will tarry in Pavia for the purpose of inquiring -into these matters, and seeing them rightly regulated before I go -hence." - -"As your majesty pleases," answered Ludovic, bowing his head with a -look of humility. "You will find, upon full inquiry, that I have acted -for my nephew's best interests. The lady, poor thing, is somewhat -prejudiced, if not distraught; but all these matters can be made -perfectly clear when you have time to listen." - -The young duke gave him a look of disdain, and she answered, "Ay, -perfectly clear, count, if the king will but hear both parties." - -"I will, dear lady, doubt it not," answered Charles, tenderly. "Be -comforted. No time shall be lost. My cousin here shall be removed to a -purer air; my own physician shall visit him. Be comforted." - -A smile--the first smile of hope that had visited her lip for many a -day--came upon the poor girl's face. "Thank you--oh, thank you, sire," -she said. - -Well had she stopped there! But she was very young, had no experience -of the omnipotence of selfishness with man. Her fate had been a very -sad one. She never sang to her child but with tears; and yet all had -not taught her that oceans of blood would not bar man from an object -of great desire. - -"I cannot be comforted, my lord," she answered, "notwithstanding all -your generous promises--nay, notwithstanding even their fulfilment, -while my poor father, against whom your mighty power is bent--I speak -of Alphonso, King of Naples--is in such a case of peril." - -Charles's brow darkened; the compassionate look passed away; but still -the unhappy girl went on, crushing out in the bosom of the young king -the spark of pity which her melancholy situation had lighted. "My poor -father, my lord," she continued, "has done nothing to call down your -indignation upon him. Let me entreat your mercy on him; let me beseech -you to pause and consider ere you ruin a man--a king who has never -injured you--nay, who is ready to submit to any terms you are pleased -to dictate. Oh, my noble lord, hear me; let me plead not only for my -husband and myself, and my child, but for my father and my brother -also." - -Ludovic the Moor, one of the most subtle readers of the human heart -that the world has ever produced, heard her first reference to her -father with delight; and his eyes were instantly turned towards the -young king's face. He traced but too easily the change of feelings -going on. He saw the first spark of irritation produced by the -unwelcome topic: he saw her gradually fanning it into a flame by her -efforts to change the settled and selfish purpose of the king. He saw -the struggle between the sense of justice and a favourite scheme; he -saw the anger which a consciousness of wrong, together with a -resolution to persevere in wrong invariably produces, growing up in -Charles's bosom; and he let her go on without a word, till he -perceived that the effect was complete. Then suddenly interposing, he -said, "May it please your majesty, such exciting scenes are too much -for the feeble health of my poor nephew; I must care for it, if this -lady does not. You have heard all she has to say, and if you will mark -the duke's countenance, you will perceive, from the change which has -taken place, that further discussion now would be dangerous if not -fatal. I will therefore beseech your majesty to give this matter -further consideration at a future day, and to visit the poor dwelling -I have prepared for you." - -The king rose; and the poor duchess, perceiving too late the error she -had committed, bent down her head upon her hands and wept. Charles -took a kindly leave of the young duke, removing the further -consideration of his case to that "more convenient season" which never -comes, and merely saying to the poor helpless girl, who had pleaded -for her father as well as for her husband, "Be comforted, madam. We -will see to your protection and future fate." - -She raised not her eyes, but shook her head sadly, and the king -departed. We all know that when we are dissatisfied with ourselves we -are dissatisfied with others; and the young King of France felt as if -the duchess had injured him in seeking a justice that he would not -grant. - -He walked hastily onward, then, somewhat in advance of the count -regent. Ludovic followed more slowly, with a slight smile upon his -countenance; and the door closed upon the young Duke of Milan and his -fate for ever. - -Through the long corridor, into the great reception-room, and across -it, sped the King of France, displeased with himself and every one. -The door was held open by the seneschal till Ludovic had passed it; -but the Moor lingered a moment upon the threshold, gave a quick glance -around, and whispered in the ear of the seneschal, "Give him a double -portion in his wine tonight. We must have no more conferences." Then -following the monarch, with a thoughtful look, he aided him to mount -his horse, and took his place by his side. Rumours spread through the -City of Pavia on the following day that Giovan Galeazzo was in a dying -state, and Ludovic confirmed them to the King of France, saying, "I -feared the excitement would be too much for his weakened frame." - -That night, in the midst of a joyous banquet, the heavy bell of the -great church was heard tolling slowly, announcing that another Duke of -Milan had gone to his tomb. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -All was bustle and the hurry of preparation in the Villa Rovera. -Leonora's two young maids had as much trouble in packing up her -wardrobe as a modern lady's maid in arranging her bridal wardrobe, -though, be it said, if a lady's apparel in those days was richer, it -was not quite so multitudinous as the wardrobe of a modern lady. But -these two young maids were not destined to be her only attendants; for -the old count, thinking, as he had expressed it, that the Signor -Ramiro d'Orco must be mad to entrust the escort of his lovely daughter -to so young a cavalier as Lorenzo Visconti, had engaged a respectable -and elderly lady, who had served for many years in his own household, -to give dignity and gravity to the train of his young relation. - -Many and particular were the instructions which he gave in private -conclave to the ancient Signora Mariana; and faithfully did she -promise to obey all his injunctions, and keep up the utmost decorum -and propriety of demeanour by the way. - -But alas! there is no faith to be put in old women, especially those -of the grade and condition of life which was filled by Mariana. They -are all at heart duennas, and, strange to say, generally, however hard -and cold their exteriors, feel a sympathy with the tenderness and -warmth of youth. The old lady smiled as she left the old man; and -perhaps she judged rightly that thus to restrain the actions and keep -close supervision on the conduct of a young lady and a young lord upon -a long journey through a distracted country was a task so much above -her powers that it would be better not to attempt it. "I shall have -enough to do to take care of my old bones upon a rough trotting horse -during the day, and to rest them during the night, without minding -other people's affairs," she said. "Besides, the Signor Lorenzo is a -nice, honourable young man, and would do nothing that is wrong, I am -sure; and the signora is quite discreet, and moreover, proud, which is -better." - -Leonora and Lorenzo were full of joy and anticipation. Perhaps never -in history was a long journey over rough roads, through a wild -country, with the prospect of but poor accommodation anywhere but in -the large cities, contemplated with so much wild joy. Fancy was like a -bird escaped from its cage, and it soared over the future on expanded -wings--soared high and sang. - -Every now and then, it is true, a feeling of she knew not what awe or -dread came over Leonora's heart--a sensation as if of some danger--a -fear of the very wideness of her range, of her perfect freedom from -all control--a consciousness that she was a woman and was weak, and -very much in love. But it soon passed away when she thought of -Lorenzo's high and chivalrous spirit; and then she gave herself up to -hope and joy again. - -Poor Blanche Marie was the only one to be pitied, and she was very -sad. Even the thought that she was loved--that the timid dream of her -youth's dawning twilight was already verified, could not console her. -She was losing her loved companion, her bright cousin, and her lover -all at once. For the loss of the two first, indeed, she had in some -degree to blame herself; for, with girlish enthusiasm, she had -resolved, from the moment she heard that Lorenzo was about to return -to Italy, that he should fall in love with Leonora, and she rejoiced -that all had gone according to her plans, but she would rather have -had them remain at the Villa Rovera, and make love there beside her. -Then, as to De Vitry, she would not have withheld him from the field -of fame for the world; but she would rather have had the lists where -glory was to be gained, at the back of the garden than far away at the -end of Italy. Sometimes she asked herself if she really loved him--if -she were not too young to know what love was; but then the pain she -felt at the thought of his leaving her for months, perhaps for years, -convinced her little heart that there was something in it which had -never been there before. - -Thus waned the day of the king's halt at the villa gates, and the -morning came, when Lorenzo and his train, now amounting to twenty -lances and some forty inferior soldiers, were to depart. Besides -these, however, were Leonora's servants, male and female, Lorenzo's -personal attendants, horses and mules and pannieris, and a -baggage-wagon, with six silver-grey oxen to draw it. Moreover, with -the baggage-wagon were six foot soldiers, armed with hand-guns, then a -new invention, for the manufacture of which, as I think I have -mentioned before, Milan had become famous. It made altogether a grand -cavalcade, occupying so much of the road while the party waited for -their young leader and the fair lady he was to escort, that the -peasant carts could hardly get past on their way to supply the market -of Pavia with all the luxuries which the King of France's arrival in -the city had brought into demand. - -Much and sage advice had to be given by the old Count of Rovera both -to Lorenzo and Leonora; and long was their leave-taking with poor -Blanche Marie; but, in some sort it was fortunate it was so; for, -before all was over, the Seigneur de Vitry appeared among them, -exclaiming, in his usually gay tone, though there was a certain degree -of shadow on his brow, "To horse! to horse, Visconti! You are to have -a longer march than you contemplated. It has been decided by the king -that seven miles is too short a ride for a young cavalier like you; -and you are to march straight by Pavia, and act as an advance party on -the way to Naples." - -"But where am I to halt?" asked the young cavalier; "remember, Signeur -de Vitry, that it is long since I quitted this land, and I know not -the distances." - -"All that is arranged," answered De Vitry--"arranged upon the very -best judgment and authority, that of a man who knows not the worthy -count regent, but who knows the country well. At Belgiojoso, just -seven miles beyond Pavia, you will find the route-card, as far as -Bologna, with every day's march laid down, in the hands of the king's -harbinger, old St. Pierre, who goes with you, with twenty lances more, -to mark out the royal quarters. But, remember, you command the whole -party, and the king relies upon your fidelity and discretion. From -each station you will march forward at eight in the morning, unless -contrary orders from the court reach you earlier. If you should obtain -information of any hostile movements in the front, you will send back -intelligence, unless you meet with an enemy, in which case you will -fall back upon the van." - -"Without fighting?" asked Lorenzo. - -"Why, methinks," said De Vitry, with a gay glance at Leonora, "that, -considering that you have some non-combatants of your party, the less -you fight the better till they are safely bestowed in the rear. But -you must use your own discretion in that matter. It would not do to -see a French pennon retreat before a handful. But you must be -careful." - -"I will, depend upon it, on the signora's account," answered Lorenzo. - -"'Tis a good guarantee," said De Vitry; "but does the king know she -goes with you?--Well, well, do not colour and look perplexed; I will -arrange all that for you, only you must tell me what tale I am to -relate to his majesty. Am I to say aught about hasty marriages and a -Signora Visconti? or that the days of knight errantry have been fully -revived by you and De Terrail, and that you are escorting a distressed -demoiselle to a place of safety?" - -Though Leonora blushed deeply, Bianca Maria laughed gaily. "Why, you -might have heard all about it yesterday, my lord," she said, "had you -waited till Leonora opened her letter from her father, or till Lorenzo -came back. It is by his command she goes--at his request my cousin -escorts her. But you were in such a hurry to leave us, you would stay -for nothing." - -"I stayed till I had got all I wanted for the time," replied the good -soldier, "though I may want more by and by." - -It was now Marie's turn to blush; but Lorenzo came to her aid, saying, -"I had hoped to ask the king's permission to-day at Pavia. I could not -ask it yesterday, for his majesty was gone ere I received Signor -Ramiro's letter." - -"Well, let it pass," said De Vitry. "I give leave for the present, and -the king will not call the lady back when you are forward on the -march, I think." - -"But, Seigneur de Vitry," said Leonora, "I fear truly we shall lose -our way, for neither Lorenzo nor I know a step beyond Pavia, and all -these soldiers are French I imagine." - -"Have you not the renowned Antonio with you?" said De Vitry, gaily; -"trust to him--trust to him; but never doubt him or ask if he is sure -of the road, or he will let you run into a broken bridge and a swollen -river. But get you to horse as speedily as may be. Where is my lord -the count?" - -"I am going to take leave of him," said Leonora, "and will show you -the way." - -"One moment, my lord," said Lorenzo, leading his commander a little -aside; "tell me, I beg, why I am not suffered to halt in Pavia. There -must be something more than you have said." - -"Why, I believe it is simply this," answered De Vitry, after a -moment's thought; "the good count regent is making a new road to -Milan. He has already prepared to remove all the big rocks in the way; -and the king thinks, and I think too, that he might judge it expedient -to sweep away even the pebbles. The name of Visconti is not pleasant -to him, Lorenzo--there are many druggists' shops in Pavia: so ask no -more questions, my good friend, but mount and away. God speed you on -your march and in your love. Well for you that you took the dark-eyed -cousin. If you had chosen the other I would have cut your throat." - -No need to pause longer on the parting; no need to follow them on that -day's march, for it was without incident. It seemed very short too, to -the young lovers, although the distance was greater than had been -expected--all distances are. The seven miles from the villa to Pavia -and the seven miles from Pavia to Belgiojoso stretched themselves into -full sixteen miles, which is contrary to all rules of arithmetic, but -still it is an invariable result. The day was charming. It was like -youth: it might have been too warm but for certain clouds which -shadowed the sky from time to time, and tempered the ardour of the -sun. The heavy-armed horses suffered a little: but at length the -pretty village--for it deserved not the name of town--which has since -given a famous name to a beautiful, high-spirited, but unfortunate -lady, appeared before them about four o'clock in the afternoon. Old -St. Pierre, the king's harbinger, had been there for some hours with -his twenty lances; the quarters were all marked out, and everything -prepared. - -"As the king must occupy his own lodging first, my lord," he said, "I -cannot give you the best inn; but here is a very pretty little place -at the edge of the village, where they seem good people, and I -reserved that for you. I did not expect, indeed, so many ladies," he -continued, looking towards Leonora and her maids, "but I dare say they -can all be accommodated. Come and see." - -Lorenzo rode on, with the old gentleman, who was on foot, walking by -the side of his horse and talking all the time. The little inn to -which he led them is, I dare say, there still. It certainly was so -some twenty years ago--much changed, doubtless, from what it was then, -but still with somewhat of the antique about it. There were vines over -both sides of the house, and the rooms to the back looked over the -gardens, and small, richly cultivated fields that surrounded the -place. The leaves of the vines were turning somewhat yellow, and many -a cluster had been already plucked from the bough; but Leonora -pronounced it charming, and Lorenzo thought so too. Happy had they -both been if Fate had never placed them in higher abodes. Oh, those -pinnacles; they are dangerous resting-places. - -Let us pass over an hour or two. The men had been dispersed to their -quarters and the proper guard set; a light meal had been taken, and -the country wine tasted; the maids had found lodging, and were amusing -themselves in various ways, with which neither the writer nor the -reader has aught to do; Signora Mariana, like a discreet dame, was -dosing in an upper chamber, and Lorenzo and Leonora were seated -together in the little saloon at the back of the house, with the -foliage trailing over the window and its verandah, and a small but -neat garden stretching out down a little slope. They were alone -together; the dream was realised; and what if they gave way to young, -passionate love as far as honour and virtue permitted. His arm was -round her; the first kiss had been given and repeated; the beautiful -head rested on his bosom, and heart had been poured into heart in the -words which only passion can dictate and youth supply. Ah! they were -very beautiful and very happy! and the attitude into which they had -cast themselves was such as painters might copy, but not the most -graceful fancy could imagine. It was full of love, and confidence, and -nature. - -As they sat, they were somewhat startled for a moment by the sound of -a lute played apparently in the garden; but it was not very near, and -the tones were so rich and full, the skill of the player so exquisite, -that instead of alarming the timidity of young love, they only added -to "the loving languor which is not repose" which before possessed -them. - -After listening for a moment, and gazing forth through the open -window, they resumed their previous attitude, and continued their -conversation. - -Leonora's beautiful head again lay on Lorenzo's bosom, with her look -turned upward to his face, while he gazed down into her eyes--those -wells of living light--with his head bowed over her, as if the next -moment his lips would stoop for a kiss: and now and then a grave -earnest look would come upon their faces, while the words came -sometimes thick and fast, sometimes ceased altogether, in the -intensity of happiness and feeling. - -What made Lorenzo look suddenly up at the end of about a quarter of an -hour, he himself could not tell; but the moment he turned his eyes to -the window he started and laid his hand upon his sword. But then a -voice of extraordinary melody exclaimed, "Do not move! for Heaven's -sake, do not move! Alas! you have lost it; you can never assume that -pose again; but, thank Heaven, I can remember it, with what I have -already done." - -The man who spoke was a remarkably handsome man of about forty-four or -five years of age, with a countenance of wonderful sweetness. He was -dressed in a black velvet coat, with a small cap of the same material -on his head, and a little feather in it. His seat was a large stone -in the garden just before the window, and on his knee rested a -curious-looking instrument, which seemed the model of a horse's head -cut in silver and ivory. Upon it was stretched a small scrap of paper, -on which he still went on, tracing something with a pencil. - -"This, sir, is hardly right," said Lorenzo, advancing to a door -leading direct into the garden, which, like the window, was wide open. -"You intrude upon our privacy somewhat boldly;" but the next instant -he exclaimed, in a voice of delight, as he gazed over their strange -visitor's shoulder, "Good heaven! how beautiful! Leonora! Leonora! -Come hither and see yourself depicted better than Venetian mirror ever -reflected that loved face and form." - -"And you too, Lorenzo! and you too!" exclaimed Leonora. "Oh! it is -perfect!" - -The artist looked up and smiled with one of those beaming smiles which -seem to find their way direct to the heart, as if an angel looked into -it. "It is like you both," he said; "but it was the attitude I sought, -and you started up before I had completed the sketch. Yet I can -remember it. My mind, from long habit, is like a note-book, in which -every beautiful thing I behold is written down as soon as seen. Look -how I will add in a moment all that is wanting," and he proceeded with -rapid pencil to add the arm of Lorenzo cast round Leonora's waist, and -her arm resting on her lap, with her hand clasped in her lover's. - -The colour came in the beautiful girl's cheek, but without remarking -it the artist said: - -"Was it not so?" - -"Even so, I fear," murmured Leonora. - -"You must let me have this drawing," said Lorenzo; "you can put no -higher value on it than I will be right glad to pay. It will be to me -a memorial of one of the happiest days of my life, and of her I love -better than life." - -"Nay, I would not part with it for any payment," said the other; "but, -having done as you said just now--intruded on your privacy--I will pay -for the intrusion by sketching for each of you, the portrait of the -other, and that without price. But let us come into the saloon, and -call for lights; it is getting somewhat dark. Will you, young -gentleman, take my lute, while I put up the sketch and my pencils." - -"Is this then a lute?" asked Lorenzo, taking the horse's head in ivory -and silver. "Oh! I see; here is a finger-board, and the strings are -fastened to the lower jaw. I never saw a lute like this." - -"Probably not," the other answered; "it is my own design and -workmanship." - -"Then was it you whom we heard playing, just now?" asked Leonora. "The -music was divine." - -"It might be so," answered the artist gaily, "for Cupid was very -near--though I knew not of the god's neighbourhood--and it is the -nature of all godlike beings to cast their influence far around them, -and raise common things toward divinity. He is a mighty deity that -Cupid, and, when worshipped purely, has precious gifts for the sons of -men. You two are very young," he continued, thoughtfully, "and -doubtless noble." - -"We are young," answered Lorenzo, "and noble as far as blood is -concerned. Noble in a better sense I trust we are likewise. Here is -one, at least, who is, and what may be wanting in myself my love for -her shall give." - -"'Tis one of the precious gifts I talked of," answered the artist, -moving to the house, and entering the little saloon; "a high and pure -love ennobles him who feels it; and well, young gentleman, have you -distinguished between two nobilities. Yet, constituted as this world -is--nay, not only as this world, but as man himself is--there must -always be a factitious nobility, which, in the eyes of the world, will -rise above the other. The notion of anything like equality ever -existing among men is a dream of human vanity, contrary to all -experience, and to the manifest will of God. The only reason why men -ever entertained it is that the lower intellects feel their -selfishness wounded at acknowledging they are inferior. Now, as the -lower intellects predominate immensely in point of numbers, and all -their vanities combine to pull down those superior to their own level, -you will always find democratic republics attempted in those countries -where there is no great predominance of intellect in any, or that -predominance is confined to a very few. If there be one intellect -vastly superior to any others, the constitution of the state will soon -become a monarchy; if there be more than one or two greatly above the -rest, you will have an aristocracy, and the natural order, as far as I -have seen in the world, will be the monarch representing the highest -intellect and most powerful will; an aristocracy representing those -next in mental powers; and below them the plebeians, representing the -great mass of stupidity and ignorance which exist in this world--the -weak, the vicious, the thoughtless, the idle, the brutal, the -barbarous. Granted that these several classes will not long justly -represent the reality; but still the order is the natural order, and -men strive against it in vain. We have seen these democratic republics -tried over and over again in this our Italy, producing misery and -disorder during their existence, and all tending to the same -consummation." - -"But how is equality among men contrary to the will of God!" asked -Lorenzo; "the incarnate Son of God himself seems to have preached such -a doctrine." - -"I humbly think you are mistaken," answered the artist. "On the -contrary, he always inculcated submission to our superiors. But you -ask how is it contrary to the manifest will of God? I reply, not only -by the difference of mere worldly advantages which he has bestowed -upon various men, for that might depend upon a false and mistaken -scheme of society, but by the difference of mental and spiritual -powers which he himself has ordained and bestowed, without any -intervention of man or of man's will. Take one of the many idiots, or -half idiots, who sit upon the steps of St. John at Rome, and place him -by the side of the late Lorenzo de Medici. Take them as mere infants, -and try to educate them alike nay, give the highest culture to the -idiot, the lowest to Lorenzo, what would be the result? The one would -tower above the other with his gigantic mind, the other would remain -an intellectual pigmy; the one would be a prince of thought, the other -a plebeian. Here is an inequality decreed by God himself; and although -I have taken an extreme case, you will find the same rule pervade all -minds and all natures. No man has the same capabilities. Every gift is -unequally apportioned; and the same Almighty Being who gives to one -man wealth and to another poverty, to one man the stature of a hero, -to another the height of a dwarf, has decreed that inequality of -station against which the vanity of multitudes struggles in vain. I -myself am a plebeian, you are nobles, yet I would not alter the order -of society if I could. But let us change the topic; or, while this -sweet half light still lingers in the west, I will play upon my -favourite lute again, and let you hear some verses which flow somewhat -with the current of our thoughts." - -For a moment he leaned his cheek against the instrument, struck a few -chords, put the strings in perfect tune, and then, with the skill of a -great musician, drew forth harmonies such as were seldom heard in -those days. A minute or two after, his voice, far sweeter than any -sounds which could be brought from the lute, joined in, and he sang -some irregular verses, which he seemed to improvise. - - - SONG. - - "Let him who cannot what he will, - Will only what he can. - 'Tis surely Folly's plan, - By willing more, to compass his own will. - Then wise the man who can himself retrain - To will within his power; he ne'er shall will in vain. - - "Yet many a joy and many woe, - From knowing or not knowing what to will, - In sweet and bitter drops distil, - For from ourselves our fate does mostly flow. - Fair skies to him who steers his bark aright, - And keeps the pole-star--duty--ever in his sight. - - "He who takes all, is rarely blessed; - The sweetest things turn soonest sour, - When we abuse our power. - Oft have I wept for joys too soon possessed. - What lessons, then, from these light verses flow? - That which we ought to do, and what we ought to know." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -"Bring lights," said Lorenzo to a girl who appeared as the song -concluded; and he sighed as if some sweet dream had been broken and -passed away. "Oh! music--music such as that is indeed divine." - -"Ay," answered the singer "music is divine and so is poetry--so -sculpture, painting, architecture. Every art, every science that -raises man from his primitive brutality has a portion of divinity -about it; for it elevates toward the Creator. Christ has said, 'Be ye -perfect, even as your Father which is in Heaven is perfect;' and -though we cannot reach perfection, we may strain for it. - -"Nor, as some have supposed, do the arts render effeminate. They may -soften the manners, as the old Roman says, but not the character. On -the contrary, all that tends to exercise tends to strengthen. It is -idleness, it is luxury which enfeebles. Athens in her highest pride of -art was in her highest pride of power, and her artists learned by the -pencil or the chisel to put on the buckler and to grasp the sword. And -what does the combination of art and science do? What has it done, and -what will it not do?" - -He gazed up for a moment like one inspired, and then added, "God -knows, for in extent and majesty the results are beyond even our -dreams. But I ever see the times afar when the yet undeveloped powers -of man and nature shall work miracles--when mountains shall be moved -or forced from side to side to smooth the path of our race, and bring -nation closer to nation--when the very elements shall become -subservient to the will of man, and when the energies of his nature, -directed by science, shall no longer be squandered in war and -bloodshed, but shall render war impossible, and bloodshed, under -whatever name, a crime. - -"Oh peace, how beautiful art thou! Oh goodness, how wide and -comprehensive ought to be thy reign! Angel of love, thou art the -seraphim nearest to the throne of God! So help me Heaven, I would not -kill the smallest bird that flutters from spray to spray, nor tread -upon a beetle in my path!" - -There was something so exquisitely sweet in his voice, so sublime in -his look, so marvellously graceful in his manner, that the two young -lovers, while they gazed and listened, could almost have fancied him -the angel of love whom he apostrophized. They sat silent when he -paused, listening eagerly for more; but when he began to speak again, -all was changed except that captivating power which seemed to command -the assent or overrule the judgment of all who heard him. His mood was -now changed, and nothing could be more light and playful than his -talk, till the door was opened and another mood came over him. - -"Ah, Catarina," he said to the girl who tardily brought in the lights, -"if the world waits upon you for illumination, we shall have another -dark age upon us. Now see what it is: this little candle in a moment -brings out of obscurity a thousand things which would not be discerned -before. Thus it is in this world, Catarina; we grope our twilight way -among things unseen till comes some light of science, and we find -ourselves surrounded by multitudes of beautiful things we could not -before discern. Do you understand me, Catarina?" - -"No, signor," answered the girl, opening her great black eyes, "but I -love to hear you speak, even when I know not what you are speaking -of." - -"How can she understand such things?" asked Leonora. "Probably she has -never been out of the village." - -"And she is wise not to go," answered the stranger. "What would she -gain by going, to what she might lose? Do you love the cultivation of -flowers, sweet lady? If so, you will know that there be some which -love the shade and will not bear transplanting. That poor girl, right -happy here, with youth, and health, and a sufficiency of all things, -might be very miserable in a wider scene. Oh no, God's will is best. -We should never pray for anything but grace and peace, I cannot but -think that prayers--importunate, short-sighted prayers--are sometimes -granted in chastisement. There is one eye alone which sees the -consequence; of all things. There may be poison in a cup of nectar; -but you cannot so well conceal the venom in a draught of pure water -from the well. Let the poor girl stay here. Now sit you still, and I -will draw you both, one for the other; but talk at will; I would not -have you dull and silent. Any bungler can draw the body. I want to -sketch the spirit likewise. Eyes, nose, and mouth are easily drawn; -the heart and the soul require a better pencil. Ay, now you are -smiling again. You were all too grave just now." - -"But your discourse has been very serious," replied Lorenzo. "Some -things might well puzzle, some sadden us." - -"'Tis well," said the artist gravely, "to prompt thought, and I sought -to do it. You two were dreaming when first I saw you. I have but -awakened you. I know not your names nor your history; but you are both -very young; and when the Jove-born goddess took on bodily the part of -Mentor, she knew that youth and inexperience require an almost -superhuman monitor. I can give no such counsels, but every man can -bring a little cool water where he sees a fire. Ah! lady, would I had -my colours here to catch that rosy blush before it flies." - -"Fie! fie!" she answered, "or you will make me fly also. You cannot -suppose that either Lorenzo or I would wish or do aught that is wrong. -Your admonitions were cast away upon us, for we needed them not." - -"God knows," said the artist, laughing, "but neither you nor I, young -lady. Your speech is not Florentine, but his is: how comes that? Is he -carrying home a bride?" - -"The difference of our speech is soon explained," said Lorenzo, -"though we are both of the same land. But she has ever lived in -Lombardy. I have travelled far and wide, but my youth was all spent in -Florence. I came there when I was very young, and remained till the -death of Lorenzo de Medici, whose godson I am." - -"Then you are Lorenzo Visconti," said the artist; "but who is this?" -and he pointed toward Leonora with the end of his pencil. - -"You divine," answered the young man without noticing his question; -"are you skilled in the black art among all your other learning, -signor?" - -"I am really skilled in very little," replied their companion. "In a -life neither very long nor very short, but one of much labour and much -study, I have never produced one work--nay, done one thing with which -I was wholly satisfied. The man who places his estimate of excellence -very high may surpass his contemporaries, and yet fall far short of -his own conceptions. Hereafter men may speak of me well or ill, as -they please. If ill, their censure will not hurt me: if well, their -faintest applause will go beyond my own. As to the black art, Signor -Lorenzo, the blackest arts are not those of the magician; yet many -things seem magical which are very simple. Lorenzo de Medici had but -one Lombard godson; and I remember you well, now, when you were a -little boy in Florence. The only marvel is that I ever forgot you. But -you have not introduced me to this lady." - -"Nay, I know not whom to introduce," answered the young man. - -"Ah! you have entangled me in my own net," said the artist. "Well it -is right you should both know who it is gives counsels unsought, and -teaches lessons perhaps unneeded. A good many years ago there lived in -Florence a poor gentleman named Ser Pietro da Vinci. His means were -small, but he had great capacity, though he turned it to but little -account. His taste for art was great, however, and he frequented the -houses of the best painters and sculptors in Italy. - -"Well, he had a son, a wild, fitful boy, who studied everything, -attempted much, and perfected little. He plunged into arithmetic, -mathematics, geometry, and used to find a good deal of fun in puzzling -his masters with hard questions. Again, he would work untaught in -clay, and make heads of children and of laughing women; and again he -would sing his own rude verses to the lute, or sketch the figures and -faces of all who came near him. - -"This was all when he was very young--a mere boy, indeed; but among -his father's friends was the well-known Andrea Verrocchio, the great -painter; and in his bottega was soon found the boy, studying hard, and -only now and then giving way to his wild moods by darting away from -his painting, sometimes to some sister art, sometimes to something -directly opposite. He drew plans for houses, churches, fortresses; he -devised instruments of war, projected canals, laid out new roads, sung -to his lute, danced at the village festivals, studied medicine and -anatomy. - -"But his fancies and designs went beyond the common notions of the -day; men treated them as whims impossible of execution, projects -beyond the strength of man to complete. His drawings, and his -paintings, and his sculpture, however, they admired, patted him on the -head, and called him the young genius. - -"At length he was set to paint part of a picture which his master had -commenced, and the result was that Verrocchio threw away his pallet, -declaring he would never paint more, as he had been excelled by a boy. -That boy went on to win money and fame till people began to call him -Maestro, and the wild little boy became Maestro Leonardo da Vinci, -who, some say, is a great painter. By that name, Signor Lorenzo, you -may introduce me to the lady, for my sketches are now finished." - -The love for art in Italy at that time approached adoration: the name -of Leonardo da Vinci was famous from the foot of the Alps to the -Straits of Messina, and Leonora took the great painter's hand and -kissed it with as much veneration as if he had been her patron saint. - -"Ah! and so this is the fair Signora d'Orco?" said Leonardo. "Now I -understand it all. You are travelling to join your father. I met with -him at Bologna as I passed." - -"How, long ago was that, Maestro Leonardo?" asked Leonora, with some -surprise. - -"It was some days since," replied the painter, "and he must be in Rome -by this time." - -The lovers looked inquiringly into each other's faces, and after a -moment's thought, Lorenzo said: - -"We expected to overtake him at Bologna. His letters led us to believe -we should find him there; but doubtless he has left directions for our -guidance." - -"Perhaps so," replied Leonardo, in a somewhat sombre and doubtful -tone; "but, if you do not find such directions, what will you do?" - -"We can but go on, I suppose," answered Leonora; "Lorenzo must march -with the French army, which directs its course to Rome, and I cannot -be left without some one to protect me." - -The painter shook his head gravely. - -"Far better, my child," he said, "that you should remain in Bologna. -The ways are dangerous; Rome is no fit place for you. Besides, your -father has gone thither, I am told, on affairs of much importance, and -you would be but a burden to him. He goes, they told me, to hold a -conference with Cardinal Cæsar Borgia, who seeks a man of great skill -and resolution to hold in check the somewhat turbulent and -discontented inhabitants of the territories in Romagna, bestowed upon -him by his father, Pope Alexander. Go not after him to Rome, but by -his express desire. I will give you a letter to the Abbess Manzuoli, -in Bologna, who will be a mother to you for the time you have to -stay." - -"All must be decided by my father's will," replied Leonora; "but I -thank you much, Signor da Vinci, for the promised letter, which cannot -but be of service to me in case of need." - -"Well, then," replied the great painter, changing his tone, "come -round here, and look over my shoulder. Here are the two portraits. -'Did you ever see two uglier people? Is he not frightful, Signora -Leonora? and as to her face and figure, they are, of course, hideous, -Lorenzo." - -Leonora took the rapid sketch, which represented Lorenzo with a drawn -sword in one hand and a banner in the other, looking up to a cloudy -sky, through which broke a brighter gleam of light, gazed at it a -moment with what may well be called ecstasy, and then placed it in the -scarf which covered her bosom, while he pressed his lips upon the -other paper in silent delight. - -"You need not do that, Lorenzo," said the painter, with a quiet smile; -"your lips will soil my picture--my picture will soil your lips. There -are others near where the paint will not come off, for they are limned -by a hand divine. But are you both satisfied?" - -"Oh, yes," exclaimed Leonora, joyfully; but Lorenzo answered at once, -"No, unless you will promise me, Signor da Vinci, to paint me a -portrait of her, as you can only paint, I cannot be satisfied." - -"When she is your wife," answered Leonardo, "you have but to write to -me that Mona Leonora Visconti will sit, and be I at the distance of -two hundred leagues, I will come. But now, I will hie me to the little -chamber they have given me, and write the letter I spoke of, and then -return. Perchance the lady may have retired ere then, but I shall find -you here, Lorenzo. Is it not so?" - -"Assuredly," replied the young man; "I have to visit the guards, and -see that all is rightly disposed in the town; but I will not go till -you return." - -I will not follow the indiscreet example of Leonardo, and try to -sketch them as they sat alone after his departure. Indeed, it were not -an easy task. They were very happy, and happiness is like the -chameleon, ever changing its hues. An hour and a half, or a moment; -for such it seemed to them, had passed when old Mona Mariana, on whose -discreet and reasonable forbearance be a benediction, put her head -into the room, and said, in a sleepy tone: - -"Is it not time for rest, dear lady?" - -"You seem to think so Mariana, for you are half asleep already." - -"Ah, young hearts! young hearts!" said the old lady, who had slept for -several hours; "they have thoughts enough to keep them waking, and -strength to bear it. Old people have only to pray and sleep. But, -indeed, you had better come to rest; we have all to rise betimes." - -After a word or two more, Leonora parted from her lover, and soon -seeking her bed, lay down and dreamed, but not asleep. - -As if the painter had heard her light foot on the stairs, she had not -been gone a minute when Leonardo appeared. He took Lorenzo's hand -eagerly in his, and said, in a low, earnest tone: - -"Let her not go to Rome, I beseech you, young gentleman--let her not -go to Rome." - -"And why are you so eager she should not go there?" asked Lorenzo, -somewhat surprised, and even alarmed by his new friend's manner. "Is -there any danger?" - -"Every danger," answered Da Vinci. - -"Why?" - -"For a thousand reasons, but they are difficult to explain. Yet stay; -I remember rapping a fellow student's knuckles to prevent his putting -his profane hand on a bunch of beautiful grapes, all covered with -their vineyard bloom, when I was about to paint them. This young -lovely girl--this Signora d'Orco, is like one of those grapes, rich in -the bloom of innocence. There is the sweet fruit within--there is, or -is to come the ardent wine of love and passion, but the bloom is there -still. Oh, let it not be brushed away too soon, Lorenzo! Now listen: -Rome is a place of horror and vice. In the chair of the Apostle sits -the incarnation of every sin and crime. The example is too widely, too -eagerly followed by people ever ready to learn. The very air is -pollution. The very ground in foul. Would you take her into a -pest-house? But more, still more--nay, what shall I say? How shall I -say it? Her father--her very father has been gained by the foulest of -the foul offspring of Borgia. Ramiro d'Orco is now the bosom -counsellor of Cæsar, who, in a shorter space of time than it took his -great namesake to make himself master of the Roman State, has -accumulated more vices,--committed more crimes, than any man now -living, or that ever lived." - -"But how have they gained him? Why have they sought him?" asked -Lorenzo. "He is himself wealthy; his daughter is more so. They cannot -approach him by mercenary means: and then, why should they seek a man -who has no political power?" - -"A tale long to tell, an intrigue difficult to explain," replied Da -Vinci. "I can show you why and how, in a few words indeed; but if you -must seek proofs of what I say, you may have to buy them dearly. -Listen then to them, Lorenzo Visconti. Men seek that which they have -not. Money might not tempt Ramiro d'Orco. The prospect of that -political power which he does not possess has tempted him. They have -promised him what I may well call prefectal power in one half of -Romagna, and he has yielded. What would he not sacrifice for that? His -own honour--perhaps his child's. Thus your first question is answered. -Thus they have approached and gained him. - -"Now to your second question, Why they have sought him? The first -motive was to control, or, rather to restrain and mollify the -bitterest and now most powerful enemy of the house of Borgia. Do you -know that he is nearly related to the family of Rovera? that he is not -only first cousin, but schoolfellow and playmate of that famous -cardinal, Julian de Rovera, whose enmity to Alexander and to Cæsar is -so strong that, were it at the peril of his own life and the disorder -of all Christendom, he would attempt to hurl the present pontiff from -his seat, and has already branded the head of the Church with all the -infamies that can disgrace a man, much more a priest--ambition, -avarice, fraud, heresy, adultery, murder? - -"With him, who now journeys with the King of France, Alexander and his -bastard hope to negotiate, and to mollify him through the intercession -of Ramiro d'Orco, the only one on earth who has influence worth -consideration with the stern Cardinal Julian. This is why they seek -him. There are many other motives, but this is enough. Take her not to -Rome, young man. Listen to the counsel of one who can have no object -but your good and hers. If you do not listen, you are responsible for -all the results." - -"I fear not that anything can make her aught but what she is," replied -Lorenzo, with all the proud enthusiasm of young love. "Better, nobler -she cannot be, and as the foulest breath cannot sully the diamond, so -can no foul atmosphere tarnish her purity." - -A faint smile fluttered for a single instant round the lips of Da -Vinci; but he resumed his serious aspect instantly--nay, his -countenance was more grave and stern than before. - -"Doubtless," he said, "doubtless; for they who study much the human -face, learn to read it as a book; and hers is a beautiful page--clear, -and pure, and bright. But there are arts, young man, you know not -of--drugs of terrible power, which lull the spirit into a sleep like -that of death, and leave the body impotent for resistance or defence. -Nay, violence itself--coarse, brutal violence, may be dreaded in a -place--" - -"They dare not!" exclaimed Lorenzo, fiercely, "they dare not!" - -"What dare not a Borgia do?" asked Leonardo. "When they have set at -nought every tie, moral and religious--when they have made crime their -pastime, vice their solace, poison and murder their means--provoked to -the utmost, without a fear, the wrath of man and the vengeance of -God--what dare not the Borgias do? And what could be your vengeance, -that they should fear it?" - -"But her father," said Lorenzo, "her father!" - -An expression almost sublime came upon the great painter's -countenance, and he answered, in a tone of stern warning. - -"Trust not to her father. His God is not our God! There are things so -abhorrent to the first pure, honest principles which Nature has -planted in the hearts of the young, that it is too dreadful a task to -open innocent eyes to their existence. But mark me, Lorenzo Visconti, -there have been men who have sold their children for money. Ambition -is a still fiercer passion than avarice. I have done. My task is -performed, and I may say no more than this: take her not to Rome: let -her not set foot in it, if you can prevent it." - -"I will not--no, I will not," replied the young man, thoughtfully. "I -will prevent it--nay, it might be wise to acquire a right to prevent -it." - -"Never do a wrong to attain what you judge right," answered Da Vinci. -"And now good-night. You have your posts to look to; a calm walk -beneath the moon, with thought for your companion, will do you good." - -Lorenzo pressed his hand and they parted. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - -There was a little monticule by the road-side just on the Tuscan -frontier. At the distance of about three quarters of a mile in front -was the small fortified town of Vivizano with its citadel, seeming -strong and capable of defence; but the walls were old, especially -those of the town, and along the flat, and apparently perpendicular -faces of the curtain, the goats, unconscious of danger, were walking -quietly along, browsing on those fresh shoots of the caper plant, -which frequently appear during a benign autumn. At a distance it -seemed that there was not footing even for a goat, but the presence of -those animals showed the mortar to have been worn out between the -stones; and at one spot the keen eye of Lorenzo Visconti perceived -three or four of the bearded beasts of the mountain gathered together -as if in conclave. He marked the fact well, for he had learned that -nothing should escape a soldier's notice. - -He and his party had taken up their position on the little hill in -consequence of orders received from the main body, which was coming up -rapidly, and no opposition having yet been met with in the course of -the march, Leonora and her women sat on their horses and mules beside -him, little anticipating any danger. - -"It looks a beautiful old place, Lorenzo," said Leonora; "at least at -this distance, though one cannot tell what it may be within. But what -made the king order you to halt here as soon as you came in sight of -the town, instead of marching on as before?" - -"I cannot tell," replied her lover, "unless, dear girl, it is that I -sent last night to know if I might fall back to confer with your -severe relation, the Cardinal Julian de Rovera as to the journey to -Bologna. The roads may part here. Do you not see that yellow streak -running away through the meadows, and then skirting the foot of the -mountain? That may be the highway to Bologna perhaps. The king is -always kind and considerate." - -"Jesu Maria!" cried Madonna Mariana, "what's that?" - -The moment before she spoke a flash, sudden and bright, glanced along -a part of the old wall, and after a second or two the loud boom of one -the cannons of those days burst upon the ear. Hardly had it ceased -when a ball came whizzing by, and ploughed up the earth some fifty -yards behind them, and at about the same distance on the right. - -"By heavens!--they have fired a falconet at us," exclaimed Lorenzo. -"Back, back, dear Leonora; you and your women ride to that cottage -behind the point of rock. Nay, delay not, beloved. I will send some -men to keep guard." - -"I am not afraid," replied Leonora, with a smile, leaning over towards -him, and looking up in his face. "Am I not to be a soldier's bride, -Lorenzo? I must accustom myself to the sound of cannon. Those good -people must fire better ere they frighten me." - -"But they frighten me, dear lady," cried Mariana. "Oh, come back, come -back! I am sure they fired well enough to come so near us." - -"Oh, come back! come back!" cried all the maids in chorus. - -"Well, go--go," answered Leonora; "I will join you in a moment or two. -I want to see them take another shot." - -The women waited for no further permission, but hurried off with all -speed, and Lorenzo was still engaged in persuading Leonora to follow -them, when a small troop of men-at-arms came galloping up the pass. At -their head was De Terrail. - -"Halt--halt here, and form upon the company of the Seigneur di -Visconti," cried the young Bayard. "My lord, I bear the king's orders -to you to advance no further, but to wait for his personal presence. -He thought, indeed, you had gone farther than he had commanded when he -heard that shot. It was a cannon, was it not?" - -"A cannon, and not badly aimed for the first shot," replied Lorenzo; -"there is the furrow the ball made." - -"For God's sake send the lady to a place of safety," cried Bayard; -"what are you thinking of, my friend?" - -"I cannot persuade her to go," replied Lorenzo. - -"Well, I will--I will," answered Leonora, turning her horse's head. -"Farewell, Lorenzo; win fame for your lady's sake--yet be not rash." - -Something bright glistened in her eye; and she turned to the cottage -where her women had already taken refuge. A small guard was then -stationed at the door, and the trumpets of the cavalry were already -heard blowing through the pass, but still Lorenzo and his friend had -time to exchange a few words before the head of the array appeared. - -"What is the king going to do?" asked Lorenzo. - -"Attack the town and take it," replied De Terrail. "On my soul, these -Tuscans are rather bold to make a stand in such a place as that. But -they have good bombardiers it would seem. That ball came far and -well." - -"Who leads the attack?" asked Lorenzo. "Was anything settled when you -came away?" - -"Nothing fixed," answered Bayard; "but I fear it will all be left to -the Gascons and the Swiss. They are all infantry, you know, and if the -place is to be taken by a _coup de main_ they must do it, and we -support them. The popguns[1] they carry, it is supposed, will do -everything." - -"Out upon their popguns!" cried Lorenzo. "Good faith, I trust the king -will let us have our share; it is my right, I think. I have led during -the whole march, and I have heard say, he who does so, is privileged -to make the first charge." - -"But what would you do?" asked Bayard. "You would not charge those -stone walls, would you?" - -"No," replied the other; "but I would dismount my men, take none but -volunteers, and lead them as _enfants perdus_. If the king will but -consent, I will undertake to carry that place sword in hand, or, at -least, be as soon in as any one." - -Another shot from the walls, coming still nearer than the preceding -ball, interrupted their conversation, and before it could be renewed, -the Gascon infantry began to debouche from the path and deploy to the -left. Then came the Swiss infantry, and then a body of cavalry, under -the Count d'Entragues. All was glitter and display, shining arms, -waving banners, nodding plumes, lances and pikes, arquebusses, -crossbows, halberts, surcoats of silk and cloth of gold and silver; -but what most struck the eyes of the two young soldiers was the -admirable array of the Swiss infantry, as every movement and evolution -was performed. No rank was broken, no disorder appeared, but shoulder -to shoulder, man treading in the step of man, they marched, they -wheeled, they deployed, as if the body of which they formed a part was -one of those machines which change their form continually at the will -of those who manage them, without ever losing their solidity. - -At length appeared the magnificent escort of the king, who immediately -rode up to the little hill on which Lorenzo was posted, and gazed -forward towards the town, while two more shot from the walls were -heard, and a slight agitation among the Gascon infantry on the left, -told that this time some effect had followed. - -At the king's first appearance, Lorenzo had sprung to the ground, and -approached his stirrup, but he suffered him to gaze over the scene -uninterrupted, till Charles turned his eyes upon him, and said: - -"Well, what has happened, my young lord?" - -"Nothing, sire, but that they have fired a few shots at us from the -walls. I beseech your majesty, as I have led all the way, to let me -have my place in the attack. I would fain lead still, if you will -permit me to dismount my men, and I think I will show you that -gentlemen-at-arms can take a place as well as foot soldiers. I have -marked a spot where I will undertake to force an entrance." - -"Where? where?" asked the monarch, eagerly. - -"I cannot well point it out, sire," replied the young man; "but I can -find it if you will permit me." - -The king looked round to the superior officers about him, saying in a -hesitating tone: - -"It is contrary to the order we proposed. What say you, La -Tremouille?" - -"Why, sire, there must be _enfans perdu_ either taken from the Gascons -or some other," replied the great commander. - -"Let him go--let him go!" cried De Vitry, gaily; "if the youth will -wager his life against his spurs, why let him go, sire." - -"Support him by the Swiss, and the Swiss by some men-at-arms, to guard -against a sortie, and let him go in God's name," added La Tremouille. -"Make haste, Visconti! Select your men well, and call for some ladders -from the rear." - -"Better summon the place first," said the king. - -"It is the rule, sire, and should be done," answered the other; "but -methinks these good people imagine they have been summoned already by -the answers they send from their walls. There they go again! By my -life they are aiming at the royal banner. Pity the artillery is so far -behind, or we would answer them in kind. From that youth's eye, -however, I think we shall have no need of bombards. He has spied some -advantage, I will stake my life." - -A trumpet was accordingly sent forward, and was suffered to approach -close to the walls; but he returned with the answer that the garrison -was strong, had been placed there by the Signoria of Florence, and -could not consent to surrender without a stroke struck. In fact, they -saw that no artillery was present at the time with the king's army, -and did not believe the place could be taken without a breach being -made. - -In the meantime Lorenzo had addressed a few words to his troop, asking -who would accompany him to lead the attack. Such was the confidence he -had gained during the march that every man sprung to the ground and -professed himself ready, even to the lowest casstelier. Only fifty, -however, were selected, and the rest ordered to remain with the -horses. Some scaling-ladders were procured, and all was ready to -advance when the trumpet returned. A short pause ensued, and then was -heard the beat of the drum. - -Lorenzo sprang forward; his men came rapidly after, bearing the -ladders horizontally; and the Swiss followed with an interval of some -fifty yards. A strong body of Gascons, with petards, directed their -course towards one of the gates of the town; and a battalion of Swiss -moved towards a postern, which had been discovered in the curtain. But -Lorenzo was before them all, and lost not an inch of ground. Straight -towards what seemed to the eye of the king the most inaccessible spot -of the fortress he bent his way, taking advantage of every undulation -of the ground to shelter his men from the cannon-balls, which now came -somewhat faster than at first, till he arrived within fifty paces of -the spot where he had marked the goats climbing and standing. There in -a little ravine, which the guns, as they were planted on the walls, -could not bear upon, he turned for one moment to the men, exclaiming: - -"Here, gentlemen, I have seen the goats go up and down, and surely we -can do so too. The lowest part is the most difficult. The ladders--the -ladders to the front; now, on with a rush!" - -All were active, all were strong. The ditch, then dry, was speedily -reached; and the ladders raised. They were too short to approach the -summit of the wall, but Lorenzo's keen eye had not deceived him. Where -he had seen the goats gathered together several huge stones had -fallen; and, from that spot, there was a clear but narrow pathway up. -At first it seemed as if he would meet but small resistance; for -attacked in three quarters and divided in opinion amongst themselves, -the superior officers of the Florentine garrison were consulting -whether it would not be better to hang out a white flag and treat for -a surrender. But speedily, soldiers came running along the platform -above, hand guns and cross-bows were pointed at the ascending party, -and large stones were cast down upon their heads. It was too late to -treat now: the attack had fully commenced, the struggle was for life -or death, and the defenders fought with the energy of despair. - -In the meantime there were many and varying feelings in and around the -cottage above where Leonora and her women had taken refuge. Fear--for -with all the personal courage she had shown, and with an eager longing -for his renown, the young girl still felt for her lover's safety. -Fear, and hope, and anxious expectations succeeded each other in -Leonora's bosom, like the changing aspects of a dream. Now she saw him -in imagination mangled and bleeding in the fight; now beheld him -carrying the banner of France triumphantly over the worsted foe; now -fancied him still detained with the cavalry on the hill, and fretting -at inaction. - -"Run out--run out, Antonio!" she cried, after bearing the struggle in -her heart for some time, "see what has become of your lord, and let me -know if he be still on the hill." - -"Certainly, Signora, if you desire it," answered the other, "although, -thank Heaven, I am one of God's peaceable creatures, and love not -cannon-balls more than my neighbours, yet, where not more than one man -out of five hundred is likely to be hit during a whole day, I may take -my chance for five minutes without gaining the evil reputation of a -fighting man." - -He went out as he spoke, but stayed more than the five minutes; for to -say the truth, he soon became interested in the scene, as he beheld -the three bodies of French troops moving down to the assault. He could -not, it is true, discover to which body his young lord was attached, -but he saw clearly enough that he had left the hill. The horses and -the men not engaged had moved towards the rear out of cannon shot, and -the little monticule was now occupied only by the king, his Scottish -archers and several of his counsellors and immediate attendants. - -After watching for a few moments, Antonio glided in amongst the horses -till he reached the side of young Bayard, and pulling his surcoat, he -said, "Signor de Terrail, will you tell me where Signor Visconti is?" - -"There!" answered Bayard, pointing with his hand, "he is leading the -centre attack at the head of the forlorn hope." - -"God shield us!" exclaimed Antonio, "is he fool enough to plunge into -forlorn hopes, when he has got such warm ones in that cottage there?" - -"Ah, I had forgot the lady," replied de Terrail, "she must doubtless -be anxious." - -"Ay, as anxious as a hen who sees her brood of ducklings venture into -a pond," answered Antonio. - -"Tell her I will come and bring her news from time to time," replied -Bayard, "a lady's fears are to be reverenced, my good friend, -especially when she nobly sends her lover to the field with -strengthening words. Go, and say all goes well, and I will come and -bear her tidings." - -Thus saying, while Antonio turned back to the cottage, the young hero -fixed his eyes upon the small party of his friend, and never lost -sight but for a moment or two, when some irregularity of the ground or -the masses of the Swiss infantry interposed, of the surcoat of violet -and gold, which Lorenzo wore that day. - -"They are nearing the wall," said the king aloud, "God send the youth -has not deceived himself; but he will be there before the others reach -the gates." - -"Look, sire, there is a rush!" cried La Tremouille. - -"He has got three ladders up by Heaven?" exclaimed de Vitry, "now God -speed you, brave heart!" - -The Swiss quickened their pace to support, and as they poured in over -the rise in the ground hid the _enfants perdus_ from sight, and all -for a moment or two seemed confusion, while the defenders upon the -walls alone appeared distinctly, hurling down masses of stone, and -firing upon the assailants from every embrasure. At length, however, a -figure appeared on the top of one of the ladders, carrying a banner in -his left hand. He sprang, as it appeared at that distance, straight -against the side of the wall. But he gained footing there; and then -bounded up towards the summit. Another, and another followed; but -still the banner bearer was the first; and at length, though -surrounded evidently by a crowd of foes, he stood firm upon the -parapet and waved the flag proudly in the air, while a gleam of -sunshine broke through the cloud of smoke and shone upon the surcoat -of violet and gold. - -"Visconti for a thousand crowns?" cried Bayard enthusiastically, "he -is first in, he has won the town!" - -"Are you sure it is he?" demanded the king. - -"Certain, sire," replied De Terrail, "I have kept my eye on him all -the time. I can see his surcoat distinctly." - -"Oh, yes, it is he," said La Tremouille, "the Swiss are pouring up -after. The place is taken, and see, they have forced the south gate. -But Visconti is first in. His be the _los!_" - -"Your pardon for a moment, sire," said Bayard, "but by your leave I -will carry the tidings to yon cottage behind the angle of the rock. -The Signora Leonora d'Orco is waiting anxious there for tidings. She -sent Lorenzo forth with the words, 'Win fame for your lady's sake.'" - -"And he has won it like a paladin," cried Charles, whom everything -that smacked of ancient chivalry kindled quickly into a glow. "In -truth did she say so? 'Twas like a noble lady. Shame is me, I had -forgotten her in this unexpected resistance. Carry her this ring from -me, De Terrail, tell her that Lorenzo has won the town and a pair of -spurs this day!" - -"And mind, De Terrail," cried De Vitry, "that you kiss her hand when -you put the ring on her finger. By my faith it is worth kissing, -though I know one still fairer than that." - -"Lucky Lorenzo!" thought Bayard as he rode away; but never was man so -little envious of another's good fortune, and though he could not but -regret that he had not been permitted to take part in the assault, no -jealousy of his friend mingled with the sigh that he gave to his own -ill luck. - -"All goes well--all goes well, Signora," he cried as he approached the -cottage door at which Leonora was standing. "Visconti has stormed the -town and taken it!" - -"Lorenzo--my Lorenzo!" exclaimed Leonora, "so young--he storm the -town!" - -"He did, dear lady," replied Bayard, "he scaled the walls, he was -first upon the parapet. I saw him myself with his banderol in his hand -before another soldier entered. The king saw him too, and has sent -you this ring, for we all know that it was your love and your words -that gave him strength and valour to do all he has done this day." - -Leonora could bear no more joy, and she bent down her head and wept, -while Bayard gently put the ring upon her finger adding, "His majesty -bade me tell you that Lorenzo has won the town and a pair of spurs -this day." - -"Then he is well--then he is uninjured?" said Leonora. - -"He may have a scratch or two perhaps," replied Bayard, "but he can -have no serious hurt if I may judge by the way he waved the banderol -on the wall when he had gained it." - -"Thank God for that also," said the beautiful girl, "but here, if I -mistake not, comes his majesty himself." - -As she spoke, followed by some half dozen of his guard, and -accompanied by an elderly man in the scarlet robes of the highest -clerical rank, the monarch rode slowly up and dismounted at the -cottage door. - -"There is no more to be seen there," he said, approaching Leonora, -"the banner of France floats over every tower and gate. So now, fair -lady, I have time to pay my knightly devoirs to you; and moreover to -introduce you to a near relation, who tells me he has not seen you -since you were a child. This is the Cardinal Julian de Rovera." - -Leonora made a low obeisance to the king, in whose sweet and somewhat -suffering face she saw a spirit of kindness and generous feeling that -encouraged her, but knelt before the cardinal and reverently kissed -his hand. His was a harsh though handsome countenance, and there was a -flash in his dark eye which seemed to betoken a fiery and passionate -nature. - -"Rise, rise, my child," said he good humouredly enough. "I was much -surprised, when a few nights ago, I joined his majesty of France, to -hear that you were journeying with so young a cavalier as this Lorenzo -Visconti." - -"It was by my father's express command, your eminence," replied -Leonora, "and besides, as you see, I have not only my own women with -me, but also Mona Mariana here, a person of discreet age, sent with me -by your uncle the count." - -A slight smile, unperceived by the cardinal; passed across the sweet -lips of the beautiful girl, as she thought of the amount of Mariana's -discretion. - -"Well, well, that is all right," said the hasty cardinal, "and how has -he comported himself towards you, this young lord?" - -"With all care and kindness," answered Leonora. - -"Ay, doubtless," he answered, "but with reverence too, I hope--sought -to do you no wrong?" - -The colour came up into Leonora's cheek, but it was evidently not the -blush of shame. - -"Lorenzo Visconti is incapable of doing wrong to any one, my Lord -Cardinal," she said, "and were he not, the last one, methinks, he -would seek to wrong is his promised wife." - -"Ay, and has it gone as far as that?" said the cardinal, "pray is this -with your father's knowledge." - -"With his knowledge and his full consent, my lord," replied Leonora, -not a little offended at his close questions and harsh manner before -so many witnesses. It must indeed be recollected that Ramiro d'Orco, -though cold in manner towards his child, had left her almost to the -guidance of her own will, before we can judge of the feelings created -by Julian's assumption of authority. - -"Well, it is all well, I suppose," replied the old man, "and now, -Signora, can you tell me what it is your young protector wants to say -to me. Doubtless, you know he wrote to his majesty, here present, -requesting to be permitted to fall back in order to confer with me." - -"He sought your counsel and directions, my lord," replied Leonora; -"the course of the army had been changed, and marched by Parma instead -of Bologna. My father had also gone on from Bologna, where I was to -have joined him, to Rome, which Lorenzo thought not a fit place for -me, and there were many other reasons which he can explain better than -I can, why he thought you, sir--reverend as you are, by life and -profession--should be consulted as soon as we heard you were near." - -A well-pleased smile came upon the face of the old man. "That is as it -should be," he said, in a much mollified tone; "this young Lorenzo, my -child, seems, as I have heard he is, a youth of great discretion and -judgment. You must not think my questions hard; they spring from -regard for Ramiro's child. I will see your young lover, and talk with -him more." - -While this conversation had been passing between the Cardinal of St. -Peter's and Leonora, the young King of France had cast himself upon -one of the cottage settles, and was speaking quietly with the Duke of -Montpensier, D'Entragues, and some other officers who had come with -him; but he had heard several of the questions of the cardinal, and he -now joined in saying, "You estimate too lightly, my Lord Cardinal, the -chivalry of our French knights. Lorenzo Visconti has been brought up -at our court, and when a beautiful lady like this is entrusted to his -charge, he looks upon her by the laws of chivalry as a sacred relic -which he has to bear to some distant shrine." - -"No reason for his not kissing the relic," said De Vitry, in a low -tone, "indeed, it were but a becoming act of devotion--but who comes -here running like a deer?--One of your Majesty's pages; now God send -nothing has gone wrong." - -"What is it, Martin de Lourdes?" asked the king, as the boy bounded -up. - -"There is a horseman coming at full speed from the town, sire," said -the youth, "he looks like the Seigneur de Visconti, and Monsieur de la -Tremouille thought it best to let you know." - -"But Lorenzo had dismounted," said the king; "his horse, with the rest -of the troop, are up the pass there." - -"He could easily find one in the town, sire," said Montpensier. But -while they were discussing the matter, Lorenzo himself rode up, and -dismounted a few steps from the spot where the king was seated. His -surcoat was rent and torn; his crest and helmet hacked with blows, and -in one place dented in; but there was no blood or sign of injury about -him, and his face was flushed with haste and excitement. - -"The town is taken, sire," he said, "but I grieve to say there is no -restraining the soldiery. Not only do the rabble of Swiss and Gascons -give no quarter to armed men; but they are killing and plundering the -unarmed and defenceless." - -"Let them kill! let them kill, Visconti!" said the Count d'Entragues. -"You must be accustomed to such sights." - -"I beseech you, sire, send down a company of men-at-arms, and put a -stop to this cruel disorder." - -"They deserve punishment for daring to hold out an untenable place," -said the young king, sternly, "such is the law of arms; is it not, -Montpensier?" - -"Assuredly, sire," replied the duke, "no one can claim quarter as a -right in a town taken by assault, and if the attempt is made to resist -when the place is notoriously untenable, the strict law condemns every -one of the garrison to the cord. I should judge, however, that by this -time the slaughter has gone far enough to strike terror into the other -towns before us. It might, therefore, be as well to send down a few -lances to keep the infantry in order." - -"De Vitry, you go," said Charles, eagerly, for cruelty was no part of -his character, "give my express command to cease from pillage and -bloodshed." - -"But your Majesty said this youth had won a pair of spurs. I would -fain see them on his heels before I go, and here is a fair lady quite -ready to buckle them on." - -"Go--pray go at once, De Vitry," said Lorenzo, "do not stop to jest on -such nonsensical themes. You know not what barbarities are being -committed." - -"I do not jest at all," replied De Vitry, "but I will go. To hear the -boy, one would think I was made up of bad jokes." - -"It was no joke, Signor Lorenzo," said the king. "You have taken the -first town we have attacked, for I saw you first upon the walls. But -go, my Lord Marquis, restore order in the place, and as you pass the -hill, send down our banner. We will give him the accolade, even here -in his lady's sight, under the royal standard, to encourage others to -serve their lady and their king as well as he has done to-day." - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -It was in the king's tent, on the night after the fall of -Vivizano--for so rapid had been the capture of the place that time for -a short march towards Sarzana still remained after its fall, and so -wild and uncultivated was the country round, so scanty the supply of -provisions and fodder, that all were anxious to get into a more -plentiful region--it was in the king's tent then, a wide and sumptuous -pavilion, that on the night after the capture of Vivizano a council -was assembled, amongst the members of which might be seen nearly as -many churchmen as soldiers. - -It is impossible to narrate a thousandth part of all that took place; -messengers and soldiers came and went; new personages were introduced -upon the scene; and some of the old characters which had disappeared -returned to the monarch's court. - -A young man, magnificently dressed, and of comely form and face, sat -near to Charles on his right hand; and when Bayard, who was standing -with Lorenzo a little behind the king's chair, asked Visconti who the -new comer was, Lorenzo answered: - -"That is Pierre de Medici. We were old companions long ago; for he is -not many years my elder." - -"His face looks weak!" said Bayard; "I should not think he was equal -to his father." - -Lorenzo shook his head with a sigh; and De Terrail continued: - -"There is our old friend, Ludovic the Moor, too. He arrived to-day, I -suppose. I wonder the king has you here; he was always so anxious to -keep you out of his way." - -"The camp is a safer place than the court," said Lorenzo; "he cannot -well poison me here." - -"No, nor stab you either," said Bayard, "that is to say, without being -found out. Yet you had better beware; for he has got a notion, I am -told, that you may some time or another dispute his duchy with him." - -"That is nonsense, De Terrail," replied Lorenzo: "the Duke of Orleans -is nearer to the dukedom than I am." - -"Ay, but policy might keep the duke out and favour you," said Bayard. -"It does not do to make a subject too powerful. But what are they -about now? What packet is that which Breconnel is opening and laying -its contents before the king?" - -"That looks like the papal seal pendant from it," replied Visconti. -"Hark! the bishop is about to read it aloud." - -The conversation of the two young men had been carried on in a low -tone, and many another whispered talk had been going on amongst the -courtiers, drowned by the louder sounds which had issued from the -immediate neighbourhood of the table at which the king sat; but the -moment that the Bishop of St. Malo began to read, or rather to -translate aloud, the letters which he held in his hand, and which were -written in Latin, every tongue was stilled, and each ear bent to hear. - -"His Holiness greets your Majesty well," said the bishop; "but he -positively prohibits your advance to Rome under pain of the major -censures of the Church. These are his words," and he proceeded in a -somewhat stumbling and awkward manner to decipher and render into -French the pontifical missive. - -The despatch was rather diffuse and lengthy, and while the good bishop -went on, an elderly man plainly habited in black, came round and -whispered something several times in the king's ear. Charles turned -towards him and listened while the prelate went on; and at last the -monarch replied, saying something which was not heard by others, and -adding a very significant sign. The secret adviser withdrew at once -into an inner apartment of the tent, from the main chamber of which it -was separated by a crimson curtain. He returned in a moment with a -large book, on the wood and velvet cover of which reposed a crucifix -and a rosary. The Bishop of St. Malo read on; but without noticing -him, the man in black knelt before the king, who immediately laid his -hand on the crucifix, and then, after murmuring some words in a -subdued tone, yet not quite in a whisper, raised the volume to his -lips and kissed it with every appearance of reverence. - -The book, the crucifix, and the rosary were then removed as silently -as they had been brought, and the reading of the papal brief proceeded -without interruption. When the prelate had concluded the reading of -the missive which threatened the monarch of France, the eldest son of -the Church, with all the thunders of the Vatican if he dared to -advance upon Rome, Charles, in his low, sweet voice, addressed the -bishop, saying: - -"My Lord Bishop, I have but one answer to make to the prohibition of -His Holiness, but I trust that answer will be deemed sufficient by all -the members of my council, though all are devout men, and some of them -peculiarly reverend by profession and by sanctity of life. I should -wish an answer written to our Apostolic Father, assuring him of our -deep respect and our willingness to obey his injunctions in all -matters of religion, where superior duties from which he himself -cannot set us free do not interpose; but informing him of a fact which -he does not know, that we are bound by a sacred vow sworn upon the -Holy Evangelists, and upon a crucifix which contains a portion of the -true cross, to visit the shrine of St. Peter before we turn our steps -homewards. Is that not sufficient cause, my Lord Cardinal," he -continued, looking towards Julian de Rovers, "to pass by all -impediments and prohibitions and go forward on our pilgrimage?" - -"Sufficient cause," exclaimed the eager and impetuous prelate, "what -need of any cause? what need of any vow?" - -He paused, almost choked by the impetuosity of his feelings; and a -smile which had passed round the council at hearing a vow just taken, -alleged as an excuse for disregarding a prohibition issued long -before, faded away in eagerness to hear the further reply of a man -whose powerful mind and iron will were known to all. - -"My lord, the king," he answered, in a calmer tone, after he had -recovered breath. "Your vow is all-sufficient, but there are weightier -causes even than that solemn vow which call you to Rome. The greatest, -the most important task which ever monarch undertook lies before you. -A Heresiarch sits in the throne of St. Peter, a man whose private -life, base and criminal as it is, is pure compared with his public -life--whose guilt, black as it is, as a priest and a pontiff, is white -as snow compared with his guilt as the pretended head of the Christian -church, in negotiating with, and allying himself to infidels--to the -slaves of Mahomed, against Christian men and monarchs, the most devout -servants of the holy see. Well may I see consternation, surprise, and -even incredulity, on the countenances of all present! But I speak not -on rumour, or the vague report of the enemies of Alexander Borgia, -calling himself Pope. Happily into my hands have fallen these letters -which have passed between him and Bajazet, the Infidel Sultan. They -are too long to read now; but I deliver them into the hands of the -kings council, and will only state a few of the facts which they make -manifest. Thus it appears, from these letters, of which the -authenticity is beyond doubt, that this heretical interloper in the -chair of St. Peter, has agreed to receive, and does receive an annual -pension from Antichrist, and that he has engaged for three hundred -thousand ducats to assassinate an unhappy prince of the infidels, -named Zizim, who is in his power, to gratify the impious Sultan of the -Turks. Let the council read these letters; let them consider them -well; let them compare the life and conversation of the man with these -acts of the pontiff, and then decide whether it is not the duty of the -Most Christian King, not only to march to Rome, but to call a council -of the Church Universal, for the trial and deposition of one who holds -his seat, not by the grace of God, but by the aid of simony, and the -machinations of the devil. My lord the king, I address you as the -eldest son of the Church, as the descendant of those who have -struggled, and fought, and bled for her; and I call upon you to -deliver her from the oppression under which she groans, to eject from -her highest place the profane man who has no right to the seat of St. -Peter, and to purify the temple and the altar from the desecration of -a Borgia."[2] - -Charles hesitated for a few moments ere he replied, and two or three -of those quiet counsellors, one of whom had previously addressed him, -now came separately and spoke to him in low tones over the back of his -chair. - -"My lord the cardinal," he said at length, "the grave subject your -Eminence has brought before us, is of so important a nature that it -requires much and calm consideration. Rome is yet far off, and on our -march thither we shall have many an occasion to call for your counsel. -This subject, surpassing all others in importance, must engage our -attention when we can have a more private interview; for it will be -needful to avoid in doing our best to purify the Church, the great -danger of creating a scandal in the Church itself." - -"Wisely spoken, my lord the king," answered the prelate, "but I should -like at present to know, who is the messenger who has had the -hardihood to bear a prohibition from entering the holy city to the -successor of Charlemagne.[3] Can it be one of the Sacred College? If -so, why is he not here present?" - -"Why, to speak the truth," said the Bishop of St. Malo, with a rueful -smile, "his holiness has not altogether shown the respect which is due -to his own brief, or to his Majesty's crown, in the choice of a -messenger. He who has brought the missive is a common courier. He -calls himself, indeed, a gentleman of Rome, and, by the way, he has -with him a man who desires to see and speak with your Eminence, for -whom, he says, he has letters. They may, perhaps, throw some light -upon the question why his holiness did not entrust such an important -paper to a more dignified bearer." - -To uninstructed ears the words of the good bishop had little special -meaning; but intrigue and corruption were then so general, especially -in Italian courts, that the Cardinal Julian at once perceived from the -language used, a doubt in the mind of some of the king's counsellors -as to whether, while declaiming against Alexander, he might not be -secretly negotiating with him for his own purposes. - -"Let the man be brought in," he said, abruptly. "I know not who should -write to me from Rome; but we shall soon see. Good faith! I have had -little communication with any one in that city since the taking of -Ostia. Let the man be called, I beseech you, my good and reverend -lord." - -The Bishop of St. Malo spoke to one of the attendants; the man quitted -the tent, and some other business was proceeded with, occupying about -a quarter of an hour, when a personage was introduced and brought to -the end of the table, whom the reader has heard of before. He was a -small, thin, wiry man, dressed as a friar. His countenance was not -very prepossessing, and his complexion both sallow and sun-burned, -except where a thick black beard closely shaved, gave a bluish tint to -the skin; and there a great difference of hue in the skin itself, -seemed to intimate that the razor had only lately been applied. - -"Who are you, sir?" said the cardinal sharply, as soon as his -attention had been directed to the new comer, "and what want you with -me? I am Julian de Rovera, Cardinal of St. Peter's, if you are seeking -that person." - -"I am but a poor friar of the Order of St. Francis, Brother Martin by -name," replied the man, "and the Signor Ramiro d'Orco, a noble lord -now in Rome, hearing that I was journeying to Bologna----" - -"But this is not Bologna," said the Cardinal, "nor on the way -thither." - -"True, your Eminence," answered the other, "but, as I was saying, the -Signor Ramiro, hearing that I was going to Bologna, entrusted certain -letters to my care for your Eminence, whom he asserted to be his near -relation----" - -"Ay, ay! cousins--first cousins," said the impetuous prelate, "what -then?" - -"Why, holy sir," continued the pretended friar, "finding that you were -not where the Signor Ramiro thought, and knowing that the letters were -important, I joined myself to the messenger of his Holiness and came -on hither." - -A slight smile passed over the lip of Ludovic the Moor, as the man -spoke; and it is not at all improbable that he recognised in the monk -a follower of his bravo, Buondoni; but he took no notice, and the -cardinal exclaimed: - -"Where are these letters? Let me see them, brother." - -"They are here, Eminence," answered the man, feeling in the breast of -his gown. "This is for you," and he presented one letter to the -cardinal, while he held another in his hand. - -"And what is that? Who is that for?" asked Julian, sharply. - -"That is for the Signora Leonora d'Orco, if I can find her," replied -the monk. - -"I can find her," said the cardinal; "let me see the letter." - -The man hesitated; but the prelate repeated, in a stern tone, "Let me -see the letter," and it was handed to him with evident reluctance. -Without the slightest ceremony he broke the seal, even before he had -examined the letter addressed to himself, and began reading it by the -light of the candelabra which stood near him. - -The contents seemed by no means to give him satisfaction, and as he -was much in the habit of venting his thoughts aloud, it is probable -that an oath or two would have found their way to his lips, had he not -been restrained, not only by a sense of his sacred calling, but by the -presence of so many strangers. - -"Santa Maria!" he exclaimed, "did ever man hear! A pretty father -truly. Would he cradle a new-born infant in a sow's sty? - -"Hark ye, friar! if you reach Rome before me, tell my good cousin that -I have too much regard for his wife's child to let her set her foot in -the palace of any of the Borgias. Tell him that, being guarded by a -noble gentleman and a good soldier, and guided and directed by me, she -will be quite safe till she reaches Florence, and that there I shall -place her under the matronly care of our cousin, Madonna Francesca -Melloni. Now get you gone." - -"Your Eminence says nothing of his letter to yourself," said the -pretended friar, with a slight sneer. "I will not fail to give him -your answer to his letter to his daughter." - -"Ha! his letter to myself," said Julian; "I had forgotten that--but -doubtless it is of no great importance;--let me see," and he tore open -the epistle. - -It seemed to afford him less satisfaction than even the other had -given; for his face worked, and many a broken sentence burst angrily -from his lips; but at length he turned to the messenger, again saying: - -"Tell him I will answer this in person--perhaps in the Vatican. Yet -stop; say, moreover, 'none but wolves herd with wolves.' Let him mark -that; he will understand. There is money for your convent; now get ye -gone." - -It had not been without some feeling of indignation that Lorenzo had -beheld Ramiro d'Orco's letter to his daughter so dealt with; but the -conclusion to which the prelate came pleased him well. - -The whole interview between the cardinal and the messenger had not -occupied much more than about five minutes; but yet it could hardly be -called an episode in the council of King Charles, for on some account -most of those present seemed to take no inconsiderable interest in -what was passing at that part of the table, and all other business was -suspended. The eyes of the king and his counsellors were directed now -to the prelate, now to the messenger, and the only sounds that -interfered with the conversation were some whispered remarks going on -amongst the young officers behind. - -When the monk was gone, there was a silent pause, as if every one -waited for another to open some new topic for discussion, but at -length the king said-- - -"You seem dissatisfied with your cousin's letter, my lord cardinal. Is -it of importance?" - -"Not in the least, sire," answered Julian; "Ramiro tries to compose -what he calls, 'an ancient but really slight difference,' between me -and Alexander Borgia. Really slight difference! Oh yes, the saints be -praised, it is as slight as the difference between oil and water, or -fire and ice. Can the man think that a few soft words, or the offer of -two or three towns and castles, can make me look with favour upon a -simonise, an adulterer, a poisoner, a heretic, and an abettor of -heretics, in the chair of St. Peter? No, no. There is the letter, my -lord the king, for your private reading. I have nothing to conceal; I -deal in no serpent-like policy; and now, with your Majesty's -permission, I will retire. I have not the strength I once had, and I -am somewhat weary. If you will allow me I will take the young -gentleman, Lorenzo Visconti, with me, as I see him here. We can take -counsel together as I go to my tent." - -"We are sorry to lose your wisdom at our council, my lord cardinal," -replied the king; "but happily our more important business is over. -Signor Visconti, conduct his Eminence to his quarters." - -"Let me call the torch-bearers, my lord," said Lorenzo, springing to -the entrance of the tent, round which a crowd of attendants were -assembled. But the impetuous prelate came hard upon his steps, and -stood more patiently than might have been expected till his flambeaux -were lighted. Two torchbearers and a soldier or two went before, and -he followed with Lorenzo by his side, walking slowly along, and -keeping silence till they had nearly reached his pavilion. - -"Well, young man?" said the cardinal at length, "what think you of my -reply to my good cousin Ramiro? Did it satisfy you?" - -"Fully, your Eminence," answered the young man; "it was all that I -could wish or desire. Indeed I cannot but think that it was a special -blessing of God that you were here to rescue me from a terrible -difficulty regarding the Signora Leonora." - -"How so--how so?" asked the prelate quickly, "you would not have sent -her to Rome, would you, even if I had not been here? - -"No, my lord cardinal," answered Lorenzo firmly, "but it is a terrible -thing to teach a child to disobey a parent. You had spiritual -authority and a nearer right, and no one can doubt that you decided -justly and well. Had I done the same, all men would have judged that -my mere inclinations led me." - -"You are wise and prudent beyond your years," said the old man, well -pleased, "no use of conference as I told you this morning, there -before Vivizano. I make up my mind of men's characters rapidly but -seldom wrongly. Here take Ramiro's letter to Leonora, and recount to -her all I did. Tell her, that by the altar I serve and the God I -worship, and the Saviour in whom I put my trust, I could not consent -to her being plunged into a sea of guilt and pollution, such as the -world has never seen since the days of Heliogabalus." - -"I fear, my lord cardinal, she has retired to rest," said Lorenzo, -"but if so I will deliver the letter and your Eminence's words -to-morrow." - -A slight smile came upon the old man's face; but notwithstanding his -sternness and occasional violence, softer and kinder emotions would -sometimes spring up from his heart. He crossed himself as if sorry for -the mere worldly smile; and then looking up on high, where the stars -were sparkling clear and bright, he murmured, "Well, after all, this -pure young love is a noble and beautiful thing. Good night, my son, -God's benison and mine be upon you." - -They had now reached the entrance of his tent and there they parted. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - -From the rejoicing gates of Pisa--set free by the King of France from -the burdensome yoke of Florence--the royal army took its way to the -daughter of Fiesole. Steadily, though slowly it marched on, and -Lorenzo Visconti led the van. Oh what thoughts, what struggles of -feeling, what various emotions perplexed him when he saw the walls and -towers of Florence rising before him! There his early infancy had -passed after his father had perished in the successful effort to rid -his country of a tyrant, but only, alas, to give her another. There -had his youth been protected, his life saved, his education received, -his fortunes cared for, his happiest days passed. And now he -approached the cradle of his youth at the head of an invading army. - -With his lance upon his thigh and his beaver raised he gazed upon the -beautiful city with apprehension but not without hope. He knew that -Florence had no power to resist; that her walls were too feeble, her -towers not strong enough to make any successful defence against the -tremendous train of artillery which followed the French army. He -trembled to think of what might be the consequence of one bombard -fired from those battlements, one gate closed upon the foe. The scenes -of Vivizano returned to his imagination, and he thought he saw the -forms of well known friends and early companions exposed to the -licence and brutality of the cruel soldiery. - -"I at least come not as an enemy," he thought, "and perchance if it be -God's good will, I may do something in return for all that Florence -has done for me." - -He looked anxiously round as he continued his march, but he could see -no signs of resistance. Now his eyes rested upon the calm Arno flowing -on, alternately seen and lost; and then he caught a glimpse of the -Mugnione, and a torrent but now a brook, rushing down from the -Apennines. Many a winding road caught his eye, but nothing appeared -upon them but trains of peasantry seemingly seeking shelter from the -apprehended pillage by the light troops of the French army. - -Many a time he sent a message back to the king to say that all was -quiet and peaceable; and more than once he fell somewhat into the rear -of his party to speak a word or two to some one in a litter, well -guarded, which had followed during the last three days' march. But -still all remained quiet, and he saw no reason to suppose that the -rumors which had been current in the French camp had any foundation. -Those rumours had imported, that the acts of Pierre de Medici, who had -sought the King of France and humbly submitted to any terms which the -monarch's council thought fit to dictate, had been disavowed by the -Signoria, Pierre himself obliged to fly in disgrace, and that the -citizens were resolved to defend their homes to the last. It is true -that he had never seen such a number of peasants seeking the city -before; and he remarked that there were few, if any, women, and no -children amongst them. But there stood the gates wide open, with -nothing but half a dozen armed men at some of the entrances to -indicate that it was a fortified place. No order had been given to -halt at any particular spot, and Lorenzo rode on till he was not more -than three hundred yards from the Pisa gate, when a large party of the -king's _fouriers_ and harbingers, accompanied by a trumpeter, passed -him at the gallop and rode straight up to the city. The trumpet blew, -and admission for the King of France was demanded in a loud tone, when -one of the officers on guard stepped forward and replied, "We have no -orders to oppose the king's entrance." - -Just at that moment the Cardinal Julian came up on a fine swift mule, -followed by numerous cross bearers and attendants, and paused by the -side of Lorenzo, saying, "Follow me into the city, my son. I have the -king's order to that effect. We will first carry our young charge to -the house of Madonna Francesca, and then both you and I may have some -charitable work on hand to mediate between the monarch and the -citizens." - -"But whither does his majesty direct his own steps?" asked Lorenzo -eagerly, "how shall we find him?" - -"He goes direct to the palace of the Podesta," said the cardinal; -"come on--come on, before the crowd of soldiery overtakes us." - -The troop moved on and was the first body of regular soldiers to pass -the gates. There was some noise and confusion, the _fouriers_, a loud -and boisterous body of men, asking many questions of the Florentine -soldiers at the guard-house, to which but sullen answers were -returned; and Lorenzo judged it a point of duty to relieve the Tuscans -of the charge of the gate and place a French guard there to ensure -against anything like treachery. The cardinal coinciding, the change -was soon made without resistance, and the troops passed on into the -city. The day was dark, and the tall fortress-like houses of the -streets looked sad and gloomy, though through the narrow windows of -the massive walls peered forth a crowd of human faces watching in -silence the passage of the French men-at-arms. No smile was upon any -countenance, no look of admiration at the rich surcoats and glittering -arms; but everything bore the same stern and gloomy aspect, and -Lorenzo remarked that many of the persons he saw were heavily armed. - -At length, in the Via Ghibelina, Julian de Rovera stopped his mule -before a large heavy entrance-gate, and commanded one of his -palfreniers to seek admittance. The whole cavalcade was eyed -attentively by more than one person through a small iron-grated window -at the side of the door, and though it was announced to the observers -that no less a person than the Cardinal of St. Peter's sought -admission to see his cousin, Mona Francesca, he was not permitted to -enter till one or two embassies had passed between the wicket and the -saloons above. At length he was suffered to pass into the court with -his own train alone; but Lorenzo and his band, and even Leonora and -her women, were kept waiting in the street, subject to the gaze of -many an eye from the houses round. - -The two young lovers did not fail to employ the time of expectation to -the best advantage. It was a painful and somewhat embarrassing moment, -and required both consolation and consideration. They were about to be -separated, after having enjoyed unrestrained a period of sweet -companionship and happy intimacy which falls to the lot of few young -people so situated towards each other. Lorenzo leaned into the litter -and spoke to her he loved with words little restrained by the presence -of Mona Mariana, of whose kindness and discretion he was by this time -well aware, and whom he had bound to himself for life by a more -valuable present than any one else was at all likely to bestow. - -What matters it what he said? It would be strangely uninteresting to -others, though his words caused many an emotion in her to whom they -were addressed, and sprang from many an emotion in his own heart. He -sketched eager plans of future meeting; he proposed schemes for -evading the strictness and severity of the lady Francesca, whom -neither of them knew; he arranged the means of communication when the -king's forward march should prevent the possibility of any personal -intercourse. - -Vain! vain! as every scheme of man regarding the future. Fate stands -behind the door and laughs while lovers lay their plots. Half the -schemes of Lorenzo were needless, and the other half proved -impracticable. - -The cardinal detained them but a short time, and when he returned -Lorenzo found he had been throwing away stratagems. - -"Haste! hand the dear child from her litter," he said, "and both of -you come with me. Mona Francesca agrees to receive and protect her as -her own child, provided you will give her the security of a French -guard; for she mightily fears the Swiss and the Gascons. I have -assured her that you will leave twenty men here for the present, and -that I will obtain the consent of King Charles to your being quartered -with all your troops in the court and the lower story; the men must be -quartered somewhere, you know." - -"Certainly," replied Lorenzo, with almost too much readiness, "and why -not here--if it be the wish of your Eminence--as well as elsewhere?" - -While speaking he advanced to the side of the litter, and aided -Leonora to descend. She was somewhat paler than usual, for the feeling -of being in a strange city, occupied suddenly by foreign troops, upon -whom there was no knowing how soon a fierce and active population -might rise, was more terrible to her than even the sight of actual -war. - -Expectation almost always goes beyond reality both in its fears and in -its hopes. It is uncertainty which gives its sting to dread. The -cardinal, however, took her by the hand and led her into the -court-yard, where a few old men and two or three younger, but perhaps -not more serviceable persons, were assembled in arms, and turning -sharp to the right ascended the great staircase to the principal -apartments of the palace. A magnificent hall and several large saloons -intervened between the first landing and the smaller cabinet in which -Mona Francesca awaited her visitors. - -What a different personage presented herself at length to the eyes of -Leonora and Lorenzo from that which either had expected to behold. - -The one had pictured her distant cousin as a tall, thin, acerb-looking -Madonna, more fitted for the cloister than the world. The other had -figured her as a portly commanding dame, to whose behests all were to -bow obsequiously. But there sat the future guardian of Leonora, the -picture of good-humoured indolence. The remains of a very beautiful -face, a countenance rather sweet than firm, a figure which might have -once been pretty, but which was now approaching the obese, a pretty -foot stretched out from beneath her dress, with fine hair and teeth, -made up almost altogether the sum of Mona Francesca. She had been for -ten years a virtuous wife. She had been for twelve or thirteen years a -discreet and virtuous widow. She loved her ease and her independence -too well to risk again matrimony, once tried, and with some feelings -of devotion, and a good deal both of time and money to spare, she had -gained with the clergy and with the religious orders of Florence -almost the character of a saint--by doing nothing either wrong or -right. - -She welcomed Leonora kindly, and perhaps none the less that she was -accompanied by a young and handsome cavalier,--for though her -weaknesses never deviated into indiscretions, he had a great taste for -the beautiful, and was a true connoisseur of masculine beauty. She -made Leonora sit beside her, and gave Lorenzo her jewelled hand to -kiss, entering with him at once into a conversation which might have -been long, had not the impatient cardinal interfered. - -"Well, well," he exclaimed, "you can talk with him about all that -hereafter. You will have plenty of time. At present we must follow the -king to the Podesta." - -"Stay, stay," cried Mona Francesca. "Do not forget he is to leave -twenty men on guard. Ah! I fear those dreadful Frenchmen terribly! -They tell me the widows suffered more than any at Vivizano." - -"I doubt it," said the cardinal; but Lorenzo consoled her, by assuring -her that twenty men should certainly be left to protect her, without -adding that they were all those dreadful Frenchmen whom she seemed to -fear so much; and then followed the cardinal to the court-yard, where -his arrangements were soon made. A French ensign was hung out above -the great gate, a couple of soldiers stationed on guard in the street, -and a sufficient force left within to ensure the safety of the place -against any body of those licentious stragglers which followed all -armies in those days in even greater numbers than they do at present. - -In the meantime the cardinal had ridden on, accompanied by his own -train; and Lorenzo followed, guiding his men himself through the -well-remembered streets, where so much of his own young life had been -spent. It was not without some uneasiness that he marked the aspect of -the city. There was many a sign, or rather many an indication that -though the Florentines had admitted the army of the King of France -within their walls, they were prepared to resist even in their own -streets, any attempt at tyrannical domination. Few persons appeared -out of shelter of the houses, and those few were well armed. But the -multitudes of faces at the windows, and the glance of steel at every -door that happened even to be partly open, showed a state of -preparation equal to the occasion, and the youth, calculating the -chances of a struggle between the army and the population of the city, -should a conflict arise, could not but come to the conclusion that, -shut up in streets and squares of which they knew nothing, surrounded -by houses, every one of which was a fortress, and opposed by a body -vastly more numerous, the French force might find all its military -skill and discipline unavailing, and have cause to rue the rash -confidence of the king. - -Just as he was entering upon that great square, near which are -collected so many inestimable treasures of art, a man fully armed, -started forth from a gateway, and laid his hand upon his horse's rein. -Lorenzo laid his hand upon his sword; but the other without raising -his visor, addressed him by name in a stern voice: "I little thought -to see you here, with a foreign invader, Lorenzo Visconti," he said, -"but mark me, and let your king know. Florence will be trodden down by -no foreign despot. Let him be moderate in his demands, calm and -peaceful in his demeanour, or he will leave his last man in these -streets should we all perish in resisting insolence or tyranny. Look -around you as you go, and you will see that every house is filled with -our citizens or peasantry; and though willing to concede much for -peace, we are ready to dare all for liberty. Let this be enough -between us. Ride on, and ride fast, for on this very moment hangs a -destiny. At the first sound of the bell, a conflict will begin that -will seal the fate of Italy. Ride on, I say. You know our customs. -Take care that the bell does not ring." - -"Who are you? What is your name?" asked Lorenzo; but the man made no -reply, and retreated under the archway whence he had come. - -Winding through the crowds which occupied the Piazza, the young knight -and his party overtook the cardinal just as he was dismounting at the -gates of the great heavy building, known as the Podesta; and springing -to his stirrup, Lorenzo in a whisper communicated to him rapidly the -fears he entertained of some sudden and terrible conflict between the -citizens and the French soldiery, should the demands of the king be -excessive or tyrannical. - -"It is right his Majesty should know the state of the city," he said; -"and if I can obtain speech of him, he shall know it; for no one can -judge of the signs around us better than myself, whose boyhood has -been passed in these streets and squares." - -"You shall have speech of him," said the cardinal, "follow me quickly. -They must be at it already. Where is the king, boy?--where is the -council?" - -A page whom he addressed led him up the great staircase, and hurrying -his pace, he was soon in that great council chamber where the fate of -Florence had been so often decided. - -The scene it now presented was very striking. The King of France was -seated in a chair of state, with many of his officers and counsellors -around, and the Bishop of St. Malo standing at his left hand. Before -him stood a number of the magistrates of Florence, richly robed, and -on the faces of all present might be seen a sharp and angry -expression, as if some bitter words had been already passing. The room -was crowded; but as the cardinal and Lorenzo entered, they could see -the Bishop of St. Malo take a step across the open space between the -king and the magistrates, and hand a written paper to one of the -latter, on whose face the very first words brought a heavy frown. - -Holding Lorenzo by the hand, Julian de Rovera pushed his way through -the crowd, murmuring, "God send we be not too late," and at length -reached the monarch's side, where he bent his head to the king's ear, -saying abruptly, "This young man has matter of life and death to -communicate to you, sire. Listen to him for a moment ere you do aught -else." - -The king raised his eyes to Lorenzo's face, and then inclined his ear, -making the young man a sign to speak. - -"My lord," said Lorenzo in a whisper, "no one about you knows Florence -as well as I do. You and your army are on the brink of a volcano. The -houses all around are filled with armed men. Not only are the citizens -prepared to rise at a moment's notice, but the town has been crowded -with the neighbouring peasantry, and although your Majesty is in full -possession of the town, a conflict in these streets might be more -disastrous than can be told." - -"Hark," said the king, "the old man is speaking;" and, raising his -head, he gazed upon the magistrate who had been reading the paper. - -"King of France," said the old man, in a fierce and impetuous tone, -"these demands are outrageous. They are insulting to the people of -Florence; and thus I deal with them;" and as he spoke he tore the -paper in pieces and flung the fragments on the floor. "I tell you, -sire," he continued, "that nothing like these terms will be granted. -Our course is taken; our minds are made up. We were all willing to pay -you due respect,--to grant all that might be requisite for your -security, or to assist you for your comfort. But we will not be -treated as a conquered people till we are conquered; and, even then, -we will be the slaves of no man. Either propose terms in reason, or -else--why, sound your trumpets and we will toll our bells, and on him -who is the aggressor fall the guilt of all the blood which will dye -our streets." - -"Good God! the man is mad," exclaimed one of the king's councillors. - -"_Mère de Dieu!_" cried another, "he has had the insolence to tear the -edict!" - -"We are ready to obey your Majesty's commands," said the stern -Montpensier, in a cold tone. - -"I go to take orders against an outbreak, sire," said La Tremouille, -in a low voice, "it is not to be concealed that we are in a somewhat -dangerous position here." - -"Sire, you had better get out of the rat-trap," said De Vitry, "I will -guard you with my men-at-arms, and keep one gate open for the rest to -follow. My head for your safety; and once out we shall soon bring -these gentlemen to reason." - -"Peace," said the king, "peace, my friends. Let me speak.--You have -done wrong, sir, to tear that paper," he continued with an air of much -dignity, addressing the bold old man. "We had not read it ourselves. -It was far from our intention to demand any outrageous terms; but only -such as a republic might expect who had refused our friendship and set -at nought our proffers of alliance. Hastily drawn up by our council, -and tendered to you here more as an outline of what might be our -demands than as what they actually are, the paper may have contained -something you could not comply with, but nothing to warrant so much -heat, I think. Have you a copy, my Lord Bishop?" - -"Here is one, sire," replied the minister, handing him a paper. - -The king took it and read it with slowness and evident difficulty. -"This is too much," he said when he had done, "Signor Pierro Capponi -has some show of reason for his anger. My Lord Bishop, these terms -must be mitigated. I will retire to another chamber and leave you with -the magistrates of the city to decide upon some more equitable -arrangement, with his Eminence here to moderate between you. What I -demand is that compensation shall be made in gold for the expense and -delay to which I have been subjected by the resistance of strong -places in a country professing to be friendly to me; and that -sufficient security be given that my return to France, when it pleases -me, shall not be interrupted. Your council had better be held in -private. There are too many persons present. Let all but my council -and the Signoria of Florence follow me." - -Thus saying, he rose and left the hall. - -The result is well known. A large sum of money, part of which found -its way into the purses of the king's counsellors, and vague promises -of alliance and security, were all that the Florentines had to pay; -and the lesson of the morning was sufficiently impressive to produce -better discipline and forbearance amongst the French troops than they -had exercised elsewhere. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - -On, those days of happiness, how soon they come to an end! Poets and -philosophers have attempted in vain to convey to the mind by figures -and by argument the brevity of enjoyment, and the great master only -came near the truth when he declared it was-- - - - "Brief as the lightning in the collied night, - That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth, - And ere a man hath power to say--Behold! - The jaws of darkness do devour it up." - - -Enjoyment is the most brief of all things, for its very nature is to -destroy time. Like the fabled monster of one of the Indian tribes--we -drink up the waters in which we float, and leave ourselves at last on -a dry and arid shore. But if enjoyment be so transient, hope is -permanent. Well did the ancients represent her as lingering behind -after all else had flown out of the casket of Pandora. She does linger -still in the casket of every human heart, whether it be joys or evils -that pass away. - - - "Quando il miser dispera - La speranza parla e dice, - Sta su, tienti, vivi, e spera - Che sarai ancor felice. - - * * * * - - "Ogni casa al mondo manca - La speranza mai si perde." - - -So sang Serafino l'Aquilano, a poet of the days of Lorenzo and -Leonora, and for a time at least they found the song true. - -Hope remained after happiness had passed; but yet how bright were -those days and nights of happiness which the two young lovers passed -in Florence! - -Are you old enough to have forgotten, reader, how, in your early -youth, you deified the object of your love? How her very presence -seemed to spread an atmosphere of joy around her? How her look was -sunshine and her voice the song of a seraph? Can you remember it? Then -think what must have been the feelings of Lorenzo Visconti and -Leonora d'Orco, at an age when the fire of passion is the brightest, -because the purest--where all those attributes of beauty, and -grace, and excellence with which imagination is wont to invest the -beloved objects were really present, and when the fancy of the heart -spread her wings from a higher point than she commonly can find on -earth. Think what must have been their feelings when in a lovely -climate, amidst beautiful scenes, in a land of song, where the -treasures of ancient and of modern art were just beginning to unfold -themselves--the one issuing from the darkness of the past, the other -dawning through the twilight of the future; think what must have been -their feelings, when, in such scenes and with such accessories to the -loving loveliness in their own hearts, they were suffered, almost -unrestrained, to enjoy each other's society to the full, when and -where they liked. - -The old cardinal, plunged deep in politics and worldly schemes and -passions, took little heed of them. Mona Francesca was no restraint -upon them. Sometimes in long rambles by the banks of the Arno, -sometimes mingling with the gay masked multitudes that thronged the -streets on the clear soft autumnal nights, sometimes seated in the -beautiful gardens of the city of flowers, sometimes reposing in the -luxurious apartments of the Casa Morelli, the days and greater part of -the nights were passed during the stay of the French army in Florence. -It was a dream of joy, and it passed as a dream. - -Gradually, however, the shadow stole over the sunshine. The day for -the march was named, and came nearer and nearer. Lorenzo had to go on, -fighting his way with the forces of the king; Leonora was to remain -behind in Florence. They were to part, in short; and the sorrow of -parting came upon them. But then there was hope--hope singing her -eternal song of cheering melody, picturing the coming time when a -bright reunion would wipe out the very memory of sorrow, and when, -perhaps, the link of their fate might be riveted too firmly for any -future separation. The old cardinal encouraged the idea, and promised -to give the blessing on their union, and Mona Francesca sighed, and -thought, perhaps, matrimony the next happiest state to widowhood. - -The day came: the last parting embrace was given--the last, long -clinging kiss was taken--the last wave of the hand, as the troop filed -down the street, and then Leonora d'Orco was left to the solitude of -her own thoughts. The multitude of turbulent emotions which had -thrilled through her heart were all still. It was as when a gay crowd -that has been laughing, and singing, and revelling, suddenly departs -and leaves the scene of rejoicing all silent and solitary. The words -of Leonardo da Vinci's song came back to her mind-- - - "Oft have I wept for joys too soon possessed!" - -And retiring to her own chamber she gave way to very natural tears. -Nor were they soon over, nor was the emotion in which they arose -transient. Nothing was evanescent in the character of Leonora d'Orco. -Even young as she was, all was deep, strong, and permanent. - -But I must leave her alone for the present with her tears, or with the -sadness that followed them, and proceed with Lorenzo Visconti on the -march towards Rome and Naples; not that I intend to dwell upon battles -or sieges, intrigues or negotiations; but I merely purpose to give a -slight sketch of the historical events that followed, with one or two -detached scenes more in detail, where public transactions affected the -fate of those of whom I write. With audacity bordering upon folly, -Charles VIII. advanced rapidly upon Rome, without having taken any -efficient steps to guard his communications with France. Each step -rendered his position more perilous, and had there been anything like -unity amongst the Italian princes or states it is probable that -neither the King of France nor his gallant army would ever have seen -Paris again. The pope, too, thundered at him from the Vatican, -admitted Neapolitan troops into Rome, and endeavoured to raise the -partisans of the Church in the imperial city, to aid him in repelling -the advancing enemy. But Alexander found no support. No one loved, no -one respected him, and his call upon the citizens was made in vain. -On, step by step, the French monarch advanced, but, as he neared the -city, which had once been the capital of the world, a degree of -uncertainty came over him, and discord manifested itself in his -council. The Cardinal of St. Peter's urged him strongly to depose the -monster whose brow defiled the tiara; several other bishops and -cardinals joined in the demand. Some of the stern old military men, -too, argued on the same side, but the smooth Bishop of St. Malo and -many of the king's lay-counsellors recommended negotiation; advised -that the march of the army should be retarded or stopped, and that -skilful diplomatists should be sent forward to treat for peaceful -admission into Rome. - -An eminent position is a curse for the weak, and a peril for the -strong. Till we can see into the hearts of men, no king can ever know -the secret motives, the dark selfishness, the pitiful objects, the -vain, the mercenary, the ambitious ends which lie at the bottom of all -the advice, and every suggestion they receive. We see the honest and -the true neglected; we see the noble and the wise make shipwreck, and -we know not whence it comes. The man who would map out the currents of -the ocean would confer a signal benefit upon his race and accomplish a -most laborious task; but he who would trace and expose all the -under-currents of a court would undertake a more herculean enterprise -still. Nor can the wisest and the best of those who rule the destinies -of men escape such pernicious influences. They can but judge by what -they see, while it is what they do not see which is bearing them -wrong. They may consult the magnet or the pole-star; they may reckon -closely and well, but they can neither calculate nor perceive those -undercurrents which are bearing them upon the shoals or rocks of -injustice or of danger. Nor are they in most cases to blame. Suffice -it, if in regard to great and plain facts where there can be no -deceit, their unassisted judgment leads them right. I myself, -accustomed to courts, have seen the wisest, the very firmest of men -misled to do small acts of wrong to their most deserving of friends. -Could I blame them even if I myself suffered? Oh, no! The whispered -word, the well-improved opportunity, the casual insinuation--all the -arts which the noble will not stoop to practise, are engines in the -hands of the crafty, which will blind the clearest eye, deceive the -most perspicacious mind. - -How much more allowance should be made for a young, inexperienced, and -half-educated monarch like Charles VIII. if he did not discover that -the hope of a cardinal but swayed Breconnel in his advice; that this -counsellor had been promised a sum of money; or that had hopes of a -castle or an estate in Romagna; that one aimed at being prothonotary; -or another an archdeacon of the Roman hierarchy. All these things were -going on in his court and camp, and all these influenced the advice he -received; but how could he know it? - -The party of the negotiators succeeded. Charles sent envoys into Rome. -to treat with Alexander. They went away full of confidence; they told -the king that in a few days they would return with all the -stipulations he required, assented to. What was his surprise to hear -that his envoys had been arrested, two thrown into prison, and two -given up to the Neapolitan troops which were in the city. - -Rage and indignation took possession of him, and he gave orders that -the army should march the next morning; but there were still peaceful -counsellors near at hand; the march was put off till next day, and -before that hour the news arrived that two of the envoys had been set -free. Two, however, were still detained, and the further advance of -the army began. - -Still Alexander vacillated and hesitated, now giving way to bursts of -furious passion, now yielding to immoderate terror; but that -vacillation had now to give way. A military envoy appeared at the -court of the sovereign pontiff, and with very little ceremony -delivered his message in the presence of Ferdinand, the young prince -of Naples, who stood at Alexander's right hand. - -"What have you to say, Signor de Vitry?" asked the pope, affecting a -tone of calmness which he was far from feeling. - -"Merely this, Holiness," answered Vitry, "the army of my Sovereign -Lord the King of France is within an hour's march of the walls; he -desires to know if you are prepared to receive him within them. The -day is nearly spent; he will have no time to force the gates to-night, -and the men must be lodged somewhere." - -Alexander trembled--partly, perhaps, with rage, but certainly with -fear also. He looked to the Prince of Naples; he looked to his son, -the Cardinal Borgia, upon whose handsome lips there was a sort of -serpent smile; but no one ventured to utter one word of advice, till -Ramiro d'Orco slowly approached his chair, and spoke a few words in a -low tone. - -"Well," said the pontiff, "tell the King of France, that I will not -oppose his entrance. The Church does not seek to drive even her -disobedient children to sacrilege. For myself, I will make no -treaty--no stipulation with one who can disregard the repeated -injunctions he has received. But for this young prince and his forces -I demand a safe conduct." - -"Not for me, your Holiness," said Ferdinand, raising his head proudly. -"I need none. My sword is my safe conduct, and I will have no other." - -"Then my errand is sped," said De Vitry. "I understand there will be -no opposition to the king's entrance?" - -The pontiff bowed his head with the single word, "None," and the envoy -retired from his presence and from the city. - -"And now to St. Angelo with all speed," cried Alexander. "Quick, -Burchard, quick. Let all the valuables be gathered together and -carried to the castle. Come, Cæsar--come, my son, and bring all the -men you can find with you. The place is well provisioned already;" and -he left the room without bestowing another word upon the young Prince -of Naples. - -Ferdinand paused a moment in deep thought, and then, with a heavy -sigh, quitted the Vatican. Half an hour after he marched out of Rome -at the head of a few thousand men, and beheld, by the fading light, -the splendid host of the king who was marching to strip his father -and himself of their dominions, winding onward--like a glittering -snake--towards the gates of Rome. - -Here, as at Florence, the fouriers and harbingers of the monarch rode -on before the rest of the army, and passed rapidly through the ancient -streets filled with the memories of so many ages, marking out quarters -for the troops and lodgings for the king and his court. They took no -heed to triumphal arch, or broken statue, or ruined amphitheatre; but -they marked the faces of the populace who thronged the streets and -gathered thickly at the gates, and they saw a very different -expression on those countenances from that which had appeared amongst -the Tuscans. To the Romans Charles came as a deliverer, and an -occasional shout of gratulation burst from the people as the strange -horsemen passed. Hasty preparations only could be made, for the royal -army was close behind, and just after sunset on the last day of the -year 1494, the French army reached the gates of Rome. Those gates were -thrown wide open; and shout after shout burst from the multitude as -the men-at-arms poured in. Charles himself was at their head, armed -cap-à-pie; "with his lance upon his thigh," says an eye-witness, "as -if prepared for battle." The drums beat, the trumpet sounded; and -every tenth man of the army carried a torch casting its red glare upon -the dazzling arms and gorgeous surcoats of the cavalry, and upon the -eager but joyous faces round. Shout after shout burst from the -multitude; and thus, as a conqueror, Charles entered Rome. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - -Rome, still grand even in her ruin, was in the hands of Charles of -France. He had never in his life seen a stroke stricken in actual -warfare, except at the insignificant town of Vivizano; he had never -made a conquest more important than that of a village, nor obtained a -victory over more than a score or two of men, and yet he felt himself -almost on a par with Charlemagne when he stood in Rome exercising all -the powers of an emperor. "He suited his corps de gardes and placed -his sentinels in the squares of the noble city," says Old Brantome, -"with many rounds and patrols, planted his courts of justice with -gallowses and whipping-posts in five or six places; requisitions were -made in his name; his edicts and ordonnances were cried and published -with the sound of the trumpet as in Paris. Go find me a King of France -who has ever done such things, except Charlemagne; and even he, I -think, proceeded not with an authority so proud and imperious." - -The morning dawned and found Charles in possession, full and entire, -of all Rome, except the Castle of St. Angelo; and what is of more -importance than the mere fact of being in full possession, he was so -with the cordial assent of the whole Roman people. They had groaned -under oppression and wrong for years, and the very fact that the -oppression was exercised by the most despicable of men, had driven the -iron deeper into their souls. Any change was to them a deliverance; -and so strongly was this felt, that when at daybreak some women stood -to gaze at the corpse of a robber who had been caught and hanged by -his provosts in the night, they shrugged their shoulders, with a -laugh, saying, "No more robbers now." - -Not long after that early hour, and not far from the spot where some -of the orations of Cicero were poured to the admiring people, a young -gentleman, in the garb of peace, but with sword by his side and dagger -in his girdle, walked slowly up and down, as if waiting for some one, -and presently after a small man, in a monk's gown, whom Lorenzo had -once seen before, came up, and saluting him led him away in the -direction of some buildings, at that time appropriated to the use of -distinguished visitors or great favourites of the Papal Court. - -They were not unwatched, however; for from behind an old column which -stood there not many years ago--it may stand there still for aught I -know--glided out the figure of our friend Antonio, and followed them -at some distance, keeping in the deep shade cast by the rising sun -upon the eastern side of the street. His keen sharp eye was fixed upon -them with a suspicious and even anxious look; "By my faith," he said, -"good old Master Esopas was right when he warned us not to warm -vipers. I fear me still that one which I helped to save when he was -tolerably well frost-bitten, will some day turn and bite me, or, what -is worse, bite young Lorenzo. Perhaps I had better warn his youthful -knighthood. He is mighty docile for a young man, and will take a hint -from me. But then he knows I love him, and that is the secret of it, I -do believe; for love's a rarity as this world goes, and, poor boy, -having neither father nor mother, who is there to love him but -Antonio. By Hercules! I had forgotten the signorina. I am half jealous -of the girl, and the only way I can manage to escape being so quite is -to love her myself. Ha! they are stopping at that gate; Ramiro lodges -there for a score of ducats. Well, well, I will even go in after them, -and have a chat with my friend the friar. It is well the holy man -should know that he has an intimate acquaintance near." - -By this time Lorenzo and the monk had disappeared under the archway -and ascended a staircase on the right. It was dirty and dark enough, -but the door at the top led into a suite of rooms of almost regal -splendour and oriental luxury. The first and the second chambers were -vacant; but in the third Ramiro d'Orco was walking up and down with -slow steps, and his stern, thoughtful eyes bent upon the ground. It is -probable that he had heard the step of Lorenzo from his first -entrance; but he was one of those men who never show emotion of any -kind, whatever they may feel--men who are never known to start; and it -was not till the young man and the friar were quite near that he even -looked up. - -"Welcome to Rome, Lorenzo," he said, without embracing him as most -Italians would have done, or giving him his hand as an Englishman -would not have failed to do. "Friar, you may leave us, and do not let -us be interrupted. Sit, Lorenzo, sit! Will you rest on that pile of -cushions or on that stuffed dais--stuffed with the inner down of some -strange northern bird?" - -"I thank you, Signor d'Orco," replied Lorenzo, "but I have been lately -taught to sit and lie hard enough. You have, indeed, every sort of -luxury here." - -"Do not call them mine," said Ramiro, with a bitter smile. "They -belong to my landlord, the holy and noble Cardinal Borgia. Men propose -to themselves different objects in life, young sir. Some judge our -short space here was given only for enjoyment; others, again, think it -should be a time of active enterprise; one man seeks glory; another -power; another wealth. They mostly imagine that they are only, in -every object, seeking a means to an end--the covetous will enjoy his -wealth hereafter--the ambitious only desires power to benefit his -friends or crush his enemies--but they deceive themselves. Only Cæsar -Borgia and I admit the naked truth. He says enjoyment in life. I say -ambition is enjoyment. But an ambitious man must not sit on soft -stools. There is my common seat," and he drew towards him an old -wooden chair of the rudest and most uneasy form. - -"So," he continued abruptly, after they were seated, "you have not -brought Leonora with you." - -"My lord, the matter was decided without me," replied Lorenzo; "the -Cardinal of St. Peter's, your near relation, judged that this was not -a fit place for her: but I will not conceal from you that I should -have brought her with great reluctance, though every hour of her -company is dearer to me than the jewels of a monarch's crown." - -"The cardinal was right, and you were right," said Ramiro d'Orco, and -plunging into thought, remained silent for several minutes, then -looking calmly up in Lorenzo's face he said, "You are not married -yet?" - -"Assuredly not, my lord," said the young man, with his cheek somewhat -burning from a consciousness of thoughts--nay, of wishes, if not -purposes--which had come and gone in his own heart. "You gave your -consent to our betrothal, but not to our marriage." - -Ramiro d'Orco's eye had been fixed upon him with a cold steadfast gaze -while he spoke, and the colour in his cheek still deepened. - -"I have placed great confidence in you, Lorenzo Visconti," said -Leonora's father. "I do not believe you would abuse it. I do not -believe you would wrong her or wrong me. See that you do not." - -"I am incapable of doing either, Signor Ramiro," replied Lorenzo, -boldly. "I may sometimes have thought for a brief moment, that the -only mode of removing some difficulties that presented themselves to -us, was to take your consent for granted and unite my fate to hers by -a tie which would give me a right both to direct and protect her; but -the half-formed purpose was always barred by remembrance of the trust -you had reposed in me; and Leonora herself can testify that I never -even hinted at such a course." - -Ramiro d'Orco again paused in silence for a moment, and then said, -"Lorenzo Visconti, I have loved you well from causes that you know -not. Listen for a moment; there are some men who are so formed that a -kindness received or a wrong endured is never forgotten. They are -perhaps not the best men in the world's opinion, they have their -faults, their frailties; they may commit sins, nay crimes, according -to the world's estimation---they may be considered cold, selfish, -unprincipled; but the waters of these men's hearts have in them a -petrifying power which preserves for ever the memories of other men's -acts towards them. They cannot forgive, nor forget, nor forbear like -other men. A kind word spoken, a good act done towards them in times -of difficulty or danger will be remembered for years--ay, for long -years--twenty? more than that; and a wrong inflicted will equally cut -into the memory and will have its results, when he who perpetrated -will himself have forgotten it. I am one of those men, Lorenzo; and, -though I speak not often of myself, I would have you know it. But let -us talk of other things," he added in a less severe and serious tone. -"Now tell me truly, did you not think when I told Leonora to come on -to Rome, that I had changed my purposes towards yourself, or that, at -least, they were shaken; that some more wealthy match presented -itself, or some ambitious object led me to withdraw my approbation of -your suit? You doubted, you feared--was it not so?" - -As he spoke another person entered the room with a gliding but stately -step. He was dressed richly in a morning robe of precious furs, and -his remarkably handsome person was set off to every advantage by the -arrangement of the hair, the beard, and the garb. Ramiro d'Orco only -noticed his coming by rising and inclining his head, while the other -cast himself gracefully down upon the pile of cushions, and began to -eat some confections which he took from a small golden box. - -Almost without pause, Ramiro proceeded: "Did you not think so? You -were wrong, Lorenzo, if you did. I have consented to your marriage -with my daughter, I wish your marriage with her. I here, in the -presence of this noble prince, give my full consent, and had you -brought her on here, I would have joined your hands ere you go hence. -But it is well as it is. And now let us again to other objects; my -lord cardinal, your Eminence wished to see my young friend here." - -"He is very handsome," said Cæsar Borgia; for he it was who lay upon -the cushions. "He is very handsome, and I am told that the Signora -Leonora is very beautiful, too--nay, a marvel of loveliness--is it not -so?" - -"In my eyes certainly," said Lorenzo drily, for there was something in -the tone of the man he did not like. - -"Marry her soon--marry her soon," said Cæsar Borgia, "a peach should -always be tasted ere it is too ripe. I envy you your privileges, sir. -I who am bound to a sour life of celibacy, may well think you happy -who are free and blessed." - -Lorenzo rose and raised his bonnet from the floor where he had cast -it, as if to depart. - -"Stay, stay," said Ramiro d'Orco, "these French-bred gentlemen, my -lord cardinal, are very touchy upon some points. They understand no -jests where their lady loves are concerned. We in Italy, and -especially you in Rome, are somewhat too light-tongued upon such -matters." - -"Well, then, let us talk of other things," cried Borgia, starting up -with a look entirely changed, the soft, indolent, almost effeminate -expression gone, the eye fiery and the lips stern and grim. "You are -right, Ramiro: we are too light-tongued in such matters. I meant -not to offend you, sir, but as yet you are unaccustomed to our -manners here. I wished to see and speak with you from the reports -I have heard of you. You have, I think, served the King of France -well---marvellously well for one so young. I have heard of your doings -at Vivizano, and I have heard moreover that you are high in the -personal esteem of Charles of France himself. Nay, more, it seems, by -what means I know not, but they must be extraordinary, for scripture -says the deaf adder stoppeth her ears and will not heart she voice of -the charmer--it seems, I say, that by some means, you have won the -confidence of Julian of Rovera, an enemy of me and of my father's -house. With both this cardinal and this king you must have -opportunities of private communication." - -He kept his eye fixed upon Lorenzo's face while he spoke, marking -every change of expression, and probably adapting his discourse to all -he saw there; for no man was ever more terribly endowed with that -serpent power of persuasion which bends and alters the wills and -opinions of others, not by opposing force to force, but by instilling -our thoughts in the garb of theirs into the minds of even our -opponents. By that power how many did he bring to destruction, how -many did he lure to death! - -"I wish not," he continued, "to lead you to do or say aught that can -be prejudicial to the King of France. I know that you are incapable of -it; but it is for that very reason I have desired to see you. I seek -no communication with those whom I can buy, and who the day after will -sell themselves to another. I desire to address myself to one eager to -serve his lord, and who will dare to tell him the truth, even if it be -first spoken by the mouth of an enemy. Such a man I believe you to be, -Signor Visconti, and therefore I sought this interview. Now, sir, King -Charles is surrounded with men who will not let the truth reach his -ears. You may ask why? what is their object? I will tell you. They -have Rome in their power. My father, it is true, is safe up there--but -still Rome is theirs; and, if they can but prevail upon the King of -France, by false statements--by cunning persuasions--by the -suppression or distortion of facts--to use his advantage ungenerously, -they calculate upon forcing his Holiness to buy them wholesale. Ay, -buy them, sir; for there are not two in all the king's council who -cannot be bought--by benefices, by gold, by estates, by dignities. -This is the reason they keep the truth from the monarch's mind; for -they well know that, if his position and his duties were once clearly -stated to him, full peace and alliance would soon be re-established -between the crown of France and the Holy See; and they would be -deprived of the power of extracting from my father the last ducat in -his treasury, the last benefice in his gift. Do you understand me?" - -"Methinks I do," answered Lorenzo, who had seen good reason to believe -that Borgia's view of the characters of the French counsellors was not -far from the truth. "But what is it, your Eminence, that the King of -France should know that he does not know? He has about his person many -a clear-sighted military man who is competent to perceive the truth -and too honest to conceal it." - -"Not exactly, my young friend," replied the cardinal; "the truth is -not always so easy a thing to find as you imagine. The negotiators, at -all events, have the king's ear--civilians or ecclesiastics--all. We -know not that these military friends of yours have discovered the -whole truth; or, if they have, that they have revealed it. Now, what I -wish is, that you--you, Lorenzo Visconti, should learn the whole -truth, and should seize the very first opportunity of telling it to -the king. I will give you a correct and accurate statement of the true -position of affairs--at least, as I see them. If I am wrong, your own -clear mind will detect the error: for, of course, though I cannot -pretend to speak without some prejudice, you can have none. An Italian -by birth--about to wed an Italian lady, many of your sympathies must -be with us, while gratitude and education afford a fair counterpoise -in favour of France. But listen to my statement." - -He then went on with the most skilful and artful, but apparently the -most unpremeditated eloquence, to set before the young knight a -totally different view of the questions between Alexander and the King -of France. He dwelt long and severely upon the scandal to all -Christendom exhibited by the eldest son of the Church--a title of -which French monarchs had ever been proud--forcing his way into the -holy city, contrary to the repeated injunctions of the Church's head. -He asked if it were the part of one who pretended and hoped to drive -back the wave of Mahomedan invasion from Europe and plant the Cross -itself in Constantinople, to commence his enterprise by setting at -nought the power and authority of the Vicar of Christ, driving him -from his home to take refuge in a fortress, to despoil him of his -means, and to trample on his dignity. "They speak ill of his Holiness, -indeed," continued Borgia, "they calumniate him and misrepresent all -that he does. Let us even admit, however, all that they say against -him, that he has the passions which afflict all men of ardent -temperaments--that he has at times indulged the propensities common to -all men--that he has done openly, in short, and without hypocrisy, all -that his predecessors have done covertly and hypocritically--that he -calls his son his son, and not his nephew--never forgetting, however, -that all these faults occurred before his elevation to the holy see; -but granting all, admitting every charge, I will ask you, Lorenzo, if -these faults of the man, which affect not the holy office, are so -great a scandal to the Church as to see the first of--I had almost -said pretended--the first of Christian monarchs set at nought the -authority, oppress the person, and plunder the property of the -representative of the apostles? But I have dwelt too long upon this -aspect of the question. Perhaps it does not affect you; it may not -affect the King of France, and I did not intend to speak of it at -length. I meant to deal with the political view of the case--of that -which touches the king's material interests, and I now turn to that." - -The bright, comprehensive, and sagacious picture which he now drew of -the actual position and future prospects of the King of France, was -perhaps unequalled by any of the most splendid efforts of the man with -whom Macchiavelli himself found it hard to cope; and well might one so -young and inexperienced as Lorenzo have been carried away by his -eloquence, even if there had not been much truth in the details, much -accuracy in the reasoning. But there was far more of both than of -falsehood or rhetoric. He stripped the position of the King of France -from its fictitious splendour: he painted him as in the midst of a -foreign country, with no communications open behind him, without a -fleet, and with an exhausted treasury, without a sincere friend in -Italy, with a resolute enemy before him, and without one faithful ally -behind. He showed and asserted he could prove that Ludovico Sforza was -busily weaving the web of a confederation against him; that the Duke -of Ferrara was already gained; that the Venetians were arming in -haste, and that Florence was eager to avenge the humiliation she had -received, by giving aid to the league; that even the Emperor and the -King of Spain, though bought off for a time by sacrifices disastrous -to France, showed signs already of wavering in their faith to the -young king, and were only true to their policy of treachery. - -"This splendid army will melt away," he continued, "by battle and -disease; while that of the league against you will increase every -hour. Where will you draw reinforcements? how will they reach you if -they can be raised at all? To your enemies men will flow in from every -quarter, and will find all roads open. The remnants of the great -companies will easily be gathered together, all men practised in -warfare under leaders of consummate skill. The Albanian bands of the -Venetians will sweep the country of its provisions, and put a desert -between you and France. What the sword spares, famine and pestilence -will slay, and an expedition begun with festivals and successes will -end in disaster and tears. - -"Show me where I am wrong, and I will admit it; but this, Signor -Visconti, is my view, and I give it you plainly and sincerely. Now you -may ask what I would deduce from all this?--that the King of France -should desist from his enterprise, and return with defeat and disgrace -to his own land? Far from it; I would have him push on to Naples with -all rapidity, before the plans of his enemies are mature, or their -preparations made. He may subdue that kingdom rapidly, and with the -command of the sea coast, and a new and defensible position, set his -foes at defiance till his army can be recruited and reinforced. But I -would not have him stay here and waste time, every moment of which is -precious, in trying to humble a pontiff whom he is bound to reverence, -or destroy a sovereign who is ready to be his friend. If such madness -seizes him he is lost. How much better, at no loss of honour or of -interest, but merely by that reverence for the Church, which, as a -Christian king, he is bound to show--how much better to have a -friendly power, though perhaps a weak one, between him and the enemies -in his rear!" - -"But what surety has the king that this will prove a friendly power," -asked Lorenzo, "that these Roman States--this very city will not be -armed against him as soon as he has passed on?" - -"The pope will give him securities," said Cæsar Borgia, promptly, -although a slight shade had come over his brow while the young man -spoke. "He shall have ample guarantees; such fortresses to hold as -will ensure him against that danger; and as for myself, I care not if -I go as a hostage with his forces." - -Lorenzo paused, and thought without reply, and Borgia added, "Nay -more, Zizim shall be given into his hands, though perchance that act -may bring down the wrath of Bajazet upon Italy, and we may again see -our coasts ravaged by Turkish fleets." - -"And who is Zizim?" asked Lorenzo, in surprise. - -"It matters not," replied Borgia, "but whisper that name in the king's -ear--only say you have somewhat to tell him regarding Zizim, and he -will give eager audience to all the rest." - -"But I must also tell him on what authority I speak," said Lorenzo. - -"Do so!" exclaimed Cæsar Borgia, at once, "let him know that you have -seen me in company with this good lord who sits silent here, who knows -the truth of every word I speak." - -"I do," said Ramiro d'Orco; "and moreover as you may want proof of the -corruption in the king's council you have heard of, give this small -packet, my son, to the good Bishop of St. Malo--not before you have -conferred with the king, but afterwards--not when the worthy prelate -has company around him; but when he is quite alone." - -Lorenzo took the small paper packet which Ramiro held out, not without -some doubts; but it contained something hard and bulky, and evidently -was not a letter, of which he might have hesitated to be the bearer. -"Well," he said, at length, "I presume, sir, that you would not put -upon me any unbecoming task. But your Eminence spoke something -regarding the Cardinal of St. Peter's. What do you desire that I -should say to him?" he continued, addressing Borgia. - -A sort of spasm passed over Cæsar's face, and he kept his teeth firmly -pressed together for a moment; but when he answered it was with a -calm, though stern voice, "Tell him that no cardinal who dethrones a -supreme pontiff ever becomes pope. His holy brethren know him too -well. That is all I have to say to him--and now my task is over," he -continued, throwing himself back upon the cushions, "let us taste some -wine. Will you drink, Signor Lorenzo?" - -The young lord excused himself, and shortly after took his leave. - -"Too young, I fear me," said Ramiro d'Orco, as Visconti quitted the -room. - -"All the better," replied Borgia, languidly, "we must work with all -kinds of tools, according to our objects, Ramiro--women, valets, boys, -wise men. A wise man would not suit me now, for he would conceal half -that he has heard. This youth will tell it all, and that is what I -desire." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - -While the conversation which I have narrated in the preceding chapter -was going on in the rooms above, one of a very different character, -though relating to the same topic, took place below. We need not be -very long detained in its detail, but there were certain parts therein -which must be related. The scene was a small room near that sort of -buttery window at which Italian nobles have in all times been -accustomed to sell or retail the produce of their estates. The -interlocutors were our friend Antonio and the pretended friar -Mardocchi, and after the first greetings, the substantial conversation -began, by the former gently reproaching him of whom he had aided to -cheat the cord, with not having visited him when in the French camp at -Vivizano. - -"Ah! how did you know I was there?" asked Mardocchi. "Why, I was only -one night in all." - -"I know everything that happens within a hundred miles of me," replied -Antonio, who had discovered the great benefit of assuming more -knowledge than he possessed, "you had not been five minutes in the -camp before I knew it. But why did you not come?" - -"I have told you already," answered Mardocchi. "I was but one night in -the camp, and I got such rough usage from that old cardinal of the -devil, that I was glad to get out by daybreak." - -"Ay, he has no smooth tongue, I wot," answered Antonio; "if he licks -his cubs with that when they are born, they will go into the world -skinless. But how liked the excellent Signor Ramiro the answer he got -to his letter?" - -"I know little of his liking," answered the other. "He is not like my -good deceased lord, Buondoni, who would tell me this or that, or swear -or stamp in my presence as if there were no one there but himself. -This man keeps all, or thinks he keeps all, to himself; but one thing -I have found out, and that I like him for, because in that he is like -myself. If a man does him a good turn he never forgets it; and if a -man does him an injury he does not forget that either." - -"I suppose not," replied Antonio, "he is a good lord in many things, -and all the wiser for keeping his secrets to himself. In all the world -he cannot find any one who can keep them as well. Then he did not show -any anger when he found the Signora Leonora was not coming?" - -"Not a whit," answered Mardocchi; "he only said, 'it is well; it is -very well.'" - -The conversation was then turned to other subjects by Antonio -demanding if his companion did not think that the Signor Ramiro had -laid his egg in a wrong nest when he attached himself to the Borgias. - -"Not at all," answered Mardocchi; "they are men who are not afraid of -doing anything; if one way does not answer they take another; and such -men are sure to succeed." - -He then went on to give his view of the situation of the Pope and the -King of France, to which Antonio, who had come for the purpose of -learning all he could, listened attentively. It was somewhat different -from the view of Cæsar Borgia, and to say the truth, somewhat more -extended; for he contemplated amongst the pope's resources both poison -and the dagger. Indeed he had not studied under Buondoni without -improvement; for he clearly showed Antonio that it would be perfectly -possible to destroy almost all the king's army in Rome by poisoning -the wells. - -"But, good Heaven! you would poison all the people likewise!" cried -Antonio. - -"And no great harm either," said Mardocchi, gruffly: "did you not -hear how the beasts last night were cheering and vivaing those French -heretics? But if the Holy Father in his mercy chose to spare them, he -could easily do it by sending the monks and priests amongst them to -tell them which wells were poisoned and which not." - -"I forgot that," said Antonio, "and the scheme does seem a feasible -one. But I hope, my dear friar, that if you have recourse to it, you -will let me know where it is safe to drink. I, in return, will promise -that when those who are left of the French army--for I must tell you -that one half of them have had no knowledge of water since their -baptism--when those that remain sack and fire the city, I will bring -you out as my own particular friend, and save you from being impaled -or burned. These French gentlemen who drink nothing but wine are not -tender, I can tell you, and if they found their friends die poisoned, -you would soon see a pope dancing in the middle of a bonfire, and the -whole College of Cardinals writhing upon lance-heads." - -"Oh! they will not try the trick," said Mardocchi, with a countenance -somewhat fallen, "at least, they would try all other measures first. I -doubt not that if his Holiness will give up Zizim to King Charles that -will settle all differences." - -"And who is Zizim?" asked Antonio. - -"Why, do you not know?" exclaimed Mardocchi; "that shows the king's -secrets are well kept in his own camp. Hark ye!" and lowering his -voice he went on to explain to his companion not only who the -unfortunate Zizim was, but the object which the King of France was -supposed to have in view in seeking to obtain possession of his -person. The tale was full of scandal to Christian ears, but seemed to -shock Mardocchi not in the least; and as it was somewhat long, as he -told it, it shall be abridged for the reader's benefit. Zizim was the -brother of the Sultan Bajazet, some indeed say, his elder brother. At -all events he was his competitor for the throne of Turkey. Their -respective claims had been settled for a time at least by arms. Zizim -defeated, was fortunate enough to escape from the vengeful policy of -the Ottoman race, and first took refuge, it would seem, with the -Knights of St. John at Rhodes. He thence sailed to France, and -appeared for a short time at the court of Charles. The pope, however, -who was alternately the ally and enemy of every prince around him, at -that time actually contemplated a new crusade, and believed, or -affected to believe, that Zizim, appearing in his brother's -territories, supported by a considerable force, might subserve his -plans, by destroying the Ottoman dominions. This at least was his -excuse for inviting the unhappy prince from Paris to Rome. Charles -consented to his departure, but upon the express stipulation that -Alexander should give him up to France whenever he was required. With -the usual mutability of the Papal councils at that time, however, but -a few months elapsed ere Alexander was the friend and ally of Bajazet, -and the life of Zizim was placed in no slight peril. Charles had in -vain required that the pope should fulfil his engagement by sending -the Turkish prince back to France. It must not, however, be supposed -that the French king was actuated solely by compassion for the -unfortunate exile. He too had ambitious ends to attain, and he too -imagined that Zizim might assist in the execution of his schemes. -History leaves no doubt that the conquest of Naples, though the -primary, was not the ultimate object of Charles's expedition into -Italy. The wildest of chimeras possessed his brain, and he imagined -that the whole Turkish empire was destined to fall before his -inefficient means and inexperienced sword. Naples was to be, in fact, -but a step to Constantinople. Flatterers and poets combined to raise -the young king's vain intoxication to the highest pitch, and we find -one of the latter singing of the conquest of Turkey as an event almost -accomplished. - -The pope, however, had very different views. So long as he detained -the Turkish prince in a sort of honourable imprisonment, a pension of -forty thousand gold ducats was his from Bajazet, and as soon as he -thought fit to capitalize that annuity by putting Zizim to death, -three hundred thousand ducats were promised to him. To take the prince -from him was like tearing out his entrails; but upon that point -Charles was resolute, and Mardocchi, as well as Cardinal Borgia, was -wise enough to see that the time was come when the monarch's demand -must be granted. - -Such was the tale which had been poured into Antonio's ear, when steps -were heard slowly descending the great staircase, and, on looking out, -he perceived his young lord just about to issue from the gates. - -So deep was the fit of thought into which all he had heard and seen -that morning had thrown Lorenzo, that he was not aware for some time -that Antonio was near him. He turned over and over in his mind the -statements of Cardinal Borgia. He tried to discover a flaw in his -reasoning--an improbability in his assertions; but all was reasonable, -all was probable; and the peril to the king and his army was so clear -that he felt himself bound, even at the risk of being thought -intrusive, to lay the whole picture, which had been given him, before -the monarch. - -From such thoughts he turned to the consideration of the character of -Borgia himself. Strange to say, although he had been at first both -offended and disgusted by the cardinal's demeanour, the impression now -was favourable rather than otherwise. Indeed, such was the case with -all men brought for any length of time under his fascination. The most -clear-sighted, the most wise, those who knew him best, those who had -most cause to shun and dread him, fell an easy prey to his serpent -tongue, if once they could be brought to listen. Witness the Vitelli -and the Orsini, Gravina, and Oliverotto da Fermo, all lead to death by -his specious eloquence. - -It is no wonder that one with so little experience as Lorenzo, and who -had no reason to fear or doubt him, but the vague rumours and -insinuations which were current in the various cities through which he -had lately passed, should feel the influence of his extraordinary -powers when brought to bear upon him. - -"It is a pity," he thought, "that a man of such boundless energy and -ability, should give himself up at any time to the effeminate and -luxurious habits which he seems to indulge in when not roused to -action." - -But Lorenzo little dreamed that the effeminate and luxurious habits -went hand in hand with the darkest vices and the most fearful crimes. -The character of the man might puzzle him: it might, and did perhaps, -inspire doubt, and even suspicion; but the doubt was unmingled with -horror, the suspicion had no definite form. - -He was still deep in thought when a voice close behind him, said: - -"You are going wrong, my lord, if you are seeking either your own -quarters or the king's." - -"Oh, is that you, Antonio?" said Lorenzo; "I did not know you were so -near. Which way then?" - -"To the right, my lord," replied the man; "but indeed, my lord, in -this city you should always know who is so close behind you. I have -been within stiletto length of you for the last ten minutes." - -"But no one will try to hurt me here, Antonio," said his lord. "Ay, -here we are! Glide quickly in, see if you can ascertain whether the -king has heard mass yet, and if he has, find out if he is alone." - -Antonio passed the guard and entered the palace, while Lorenzo spoke a -few words with the officer on duty. In a minute or two the man -returned, and answered that the king was quite alone. - -"He is waiting for the bishop in his cabinet," said Antonio, "but the -prelate is always either long at his sleep or at his prayers, and the -chamberlain says he won't be there this half-hour." - -"Wait here for me, then," said Lorenzo, and entered. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - - -The young King of France sat in a small room dressed in a gown of -black velvet, with a bonnet or toque upon his head, for the winters -were now cold, and, to tell the truth, Roman houses were then, as now, -better fitted for the summer than the winter months of the year. -Beside him stood Lorenzo Visconti, listening rather than speaking; for -although, when he craved through the chamberlain a private audience, -he had said that he had matters of great moment to communicate to the -monarch, Charles, as was not unusual with him, had begun the -conversation with tales of his own griefs and annoyances. - -"Upon my life, Visconti," he said, "I am of the mind to trust old men -no more, for what they have in wisdom and experience is drowned in -selfishness and ambition. A very young man may be a fool, but he is -rarely a scoundrel; and it is a sad thing, cousin, to be always -doubting whether a man in a grey beard is advising you for your -interest or his own. Look you now! they promised me that if I but -entered Rome, the pope would be brought to terms at once; and now -there he sits up in the castle there, looking down upon us like an -eagle from his eyrie, without showing one sign of a desire to treat. I -have ordered ten bombards to be brought to the bridge and pointed at -the gates, and, on my life, they shall fire unless he shows signs of -life before noon." - -"I think, sire," replied Lorenzo, "you will not have to give the -order. His Holiness may have shown no open signs of a desire to treat, -but he seems of your Majesty's opinion, that young men are the best -counsellors. In a word, sire, I have had a long interview, unsought -and unexpected, with Cardinal Borgia this morning, and it is on that -account I have intruded on you thus early." - -Charles's attention was now fully aroused. "What!" he exclaimed, "have -you been admitted to the castle?" - -"No, sire," answered Lorenzo; "I last night received a note from -Signor Ramiro d'Orco, appointing a place of meeting, and, judging that -his object had reference solely to his daughter, I went. We had not -conversed five minutes when we were joined by the Cardinal Don Cæsar -Borgia, and he gave me, expressly for your Majesty's hearing, his -views of the state of affairs in Italy, and hinted very distinctly -what are the terms which his Holiness is inclined to concede." - -"Speak! speak! tell me all!" cried the king. "By heaven, I hope we -shall not be interrupted. Call in the chamberlain or his page. That -bishop comes here about this hour; he should, indeed, be here now; but -he is somewhat negligent and unpunctual. He shall have to wait, -however, for I will not admit him till your tale is done." - -The chamberlain was called in, the king's orders given not to admit -even his council, and Lorenzo went on to tell his tale. His memory was -good, the words of Cæsar Borgia had impressed themselves deeply on his -mind, and Charles lost hardly anything by hearing from another mouth. - -The monarch was evidently much struck with the new view of his own -situation now presented to him. The old adage that "one story is good -till another is told," is constantly applicable to every view we take -of ourselves, our fate, our circumstances. Whoever told the other -story, it would always be found very different from our own. Charles -paused long and meditated in silence. His was neither a quick nor a -comprehensive mind: and when the golden visions of glory and ambition -have once entered into the brain, it is difficult to displace them; -but yet he saw obstacles he had never dreamed of, impediments which -had been suggested neither by his own judgment nor by the sagacity of -his counsellors, dangers which were more than probable, imminent and -menacing. His courage was too great, his ambition too deeply engaged, -his honour too much implicated for him to recede from his enterprise -against Naples. But he saw strong good sense in the plan suggested and -the advice given by Cardinal Borgia, and he concluded that they would -not be furnished by an enemy, or that if they were, they could not be -furnished in an inimical spirit. - -He pondered these matters more at length, and perhaps more profoundly -than he had ever considered anything before. Steps were heard in the -adjoining chamber, a hand was placed upon the latch, words were -spoken, some in a tone of remonstrance, and some almost in that of -anger, but they did not rouse the young king from his reverie. - -At length the king woke, as if he had suddenly come to some -resolution. "I will demand only what must absolutely be granted," he -said, looking up--"only what is absolutely needful. We must not, by -asking too much, risk the loss of all. Now tell me, cousin--you -alluded to certain conditions to which the cardinal said his uncle, or -rather his father, would agree. Let me know them distinctly, and be -sure that you remember them aright." - -Lorenzo repeated as closely as possible the words of Cæsar Borgia, -giving something even of his manner and intonation. The king listened -with fixed attention; but when Lorenzo came to that part of the offer -by which it was promised that Zizim should be given into Charles's -hands, the words did not produce the effect which the young knight had -expected. The monarch remained almost entirely unmoved; the vision of -Constantinople had passed away. In showing him his real situation at -that actual moment, Borgia had taught the young king the vanity of his -schemes for the future. - -"Well, then," said Charles, when Lorenzo had concluded, "almost all is -offered which I could reasonably demand. There is only one thing left -vague, and that is the security to be given that the Roman territory -shall be kept open when it either suits me to return or when I see fit -to bring reinforcements from France; but the details of that question -can be settled by negotiators on both parts. It may give my ministers -an opportunity of making something for themselves, and when it can be -done with honour, my good cousin, I do not object to advance the -interests of those who serve me well." - -"Perhaps this little packet, sire, may serve to smooth the way with -your Majesty's ministers," said Lorenzo; "I promised to give it to my -reverend lord the Bishop of St. Malo some time when he was alone if I -could, but I did not engage not to ask your Majesty's permission." - -"Oh, give it to him, give it to him," said the good-humoured king; -"but he should have been here long ere this. He is becoming sadly -tardy." - -"I think, sire, he has already come, but your Majesty ordered no one -to be admitted." - -"True! true!" replied Charles. "Well, then, go, good cousin, take him -aside, and give him the packet; then send him in to speak with me." - -Lorenzo, as he expected, found the king's minister in the antechamber; -but the good bishop was in no very placable mood. He eyed the young -cavalier, as he came forth from the king's closet, with a glance that -can only be given by a courtier who sees another receive high honour -from his sovereign, and he had almost turned on his heel when Lorenzo -approached him. - -"I wish to speak with you alone for a moment, my lord bishop," said -the young man, respectfully. - -"I cannot imagine what you can have to say to me, Signor Visconti, nor -with the king either," said the minister, tartly; "but, as I have been -kept long enough among pages, I may as well gratify you. This way, -sir." - -Lorenzo followed him with a smile, and the bishop led him to a vacant -chamber, saying, as soon as they entered, "Now, sir?" - -"I have the honour, my lord," said Lorenzo, "of delivering this into -your hands from Cardinal Borgia--" - -"Who! what!" exclaimed the prelate, interrupting him, in a tone -greatly altered. - -"He directed me, reverend sir," continued the young man, not noticing -his exclamations, "to place the packet in your hands when you were -alone. This must plead my excuse for so venturing to occupy your time -and detaining you from the king." - -But before Lorenzo had finished the sentence the bishop had torn open -the packet, and was gazing in admiration at what it contained. Lorenzo -did not wonder at the surprise and satisfaction which had shown -themselves on the prelate's face when he saw in his hands the largest -and most beautiful diamond he had ever beheld, except among the jewels -of the King of France. But there was something more; for the bishop -gazed at some words written in the cover, and he murmured, loud enough -to be heard, "And a cardinal's hat!" Apparently that was all that was -written, for he repeated the words again, "And a cardinal's hat! I -understand." - -Those few words were quite sufficient, however, for Cæsar Borgia knew -his man, and was aware that no long explanations were needed. - -Lorenzo was then about to retire, but the bishop stopped him with a -very gracious look, saying, "Stay, Signor Visconti, stay! Then you -know his Eminence, and have seen him lately." - -"My lord, I must not detain you with explanations," said Lorenzo, "for -I know his Majesty wishes to consult you on matters of deep -importance." - -"At all events, I trust, from your bringing me this little token," -said the bishop, moving toward the door, "that, notwithstanding your -intimacy with the Cardinal of St. Peter's, you are not one of those -who will counsel the king to deal hardly with the Holy See." - -"My counsel will never be asked, my lord bishop," replied the young -nobleman, walking by his side; "but if it were, I should undoubtedly -advise his Majesty to come to an accommodation with his Holiness as -speedily as possible, and upon as generous terms as may be compatible -with his own dignity and security." - -"That is well! that is well!" said the bishop, with a gratified smile. -"My son, you have my benediction. Blessed be the peace-makers!" - -Thus ended their interview; but the following day, to his great -surprise, Lorenzo found that the bishop had requested to have his -presence at a conference with some negotiators on the part of the -pope, alleging that it would be better to have the assistance of some -Italian gentleman. - -In truth, several military men had been joined with him in the -commission, and the good prelate feared that counsels opposite to his -own wishes might prevail unless he had the support of some one of -whose opinions he had made sure. - -The negotiations were not so soon or so easily terminated as either -Lorenzo or the king had expected. Though Cæsar Borgia for once acted -in good faith, the pope vacillated and delayed, and the subject of the -military guarantees was attended with great difficulties. - -At length, however, it was agreed that Civita Vecchia, Terracina, and -Spoleto, together with Ostia, which would seem to have been already in -his possession, should be placed in Charles's hands as security; that -the solemn investiture of the kingdom of Naples should be given; that -Zizim should be delivered to him; and that Cardinal Borgia should -accompany the royal army as a hostage. - -On his part, Charles promised to show every outward sign of obedience -and submission to the Holy See; and Alexander returned to the Vatican -to receive the homage of the King of France for the kingdom of Naples, -and to enjoy an apparent triumph over him who had invaded his -dominions, set at nought his authority, and driven him from his -palace. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - - -Nothing can be more evanescent than the impressions of reason on a -small mind. That of Charles VIII. might almost be compared to a -looking-glass; it reflected only that which was before it; and, ere -the conditions of accommodation between himself and the pope were -completely arranged, he had forgotten his desire to march on -speedily--he had forgotten the extreme peril of not doing so. - -A whole month passed in fêtes and ceremonies, and found the French -monarch and his army still in Rome; but there were persons in his camp -and court both wiser and more impatient, and at length he was induced -to name the day of departure. - -Again he commenced his advance, with troops refreshed, and all the -pageantry of war renewed and brightened. The order of march was made -as it had been before; a few small bodies of cavalry in advance, then -the Swiss and Gascon foot, then the great body of men-at-arms, and -lastly, at some distance in the rear, the household of the king, -escorted by his own guard, and followed by an immense train of -courtiers, servants, and attendants. - -In this part of the cavalcade appeared two groups of peculiar -interest. Mounted on a splendid charger, and attired more like a -warrior than a churchman, came the Cardinal Borgia, the hostage for -the pope. An enormous train followed him, more in number, indeed, than -that which attended upon the king. Led horses, with their grooms, -mules and pack-saddles, litters, with curtains of crimson and gold, in -which, it was whispered, were some of the flowers of the cardinal's -seraglio, an immense quantity of baggage drawn slowly on in ox-carts, -and a number of men on foot, tolerably well armed for the attendants -of a cardinal, followed him in the march, and made his part of the -cavalcade as brilliant as any other. - -Still farther in the rear appeared a somewhat lugubrious troop, at the -head of which was borne a square black banner on a gilded pole. Then -came litter after litter with black curtains, followed by a small body -of mounted men, whose turbans and cimiters betokened the race from -which they sprang. - -In the front litter, the curtains of which were in part drawn back, -might be seen a man about the middle age, somewhat large and heavy in -figure, but with a mild, intelligent face. This was the unfortunate -Zizim, the brother of Bajazet, who followed the King of France rather -as a guest than a prisoner, but who well knew that he was no more the -master of his own actions than if there had been manacles on his -wrists. Yet there was hope in his heart--hope which had not tenanted -it for many a long month. He knew, indeed, that he was to be -subservient to the will of a powerful monarch, but he knew also that, -in the coming struggle, when, supported by French troops, he was to -shake the throne of his brother, there was a chance, and a good one, -of recovering what he rightly or wrongly considered as his own. His -family followed in the litters behind him; and a few faithful servants -and attendants who shared his fortunes in good and evil, made up the -rest of the band. - -With drums, and trumpets, and banners flying, and nodding plumes, and -all-the pomp and pageantry of war, the French army marched forward, -while the first breath of spring was felt in the air, and a slight -filmy cloud here and there in the sky promised, like the hopes of -youth, an early enjoyment of summer long before, in reality, it -approached. Mirth and laughter reigned in the ranks of the French -army, and the expedition seemed more like an excursion of pleasure -than a great military enterprise. - -The day's march was somewhat long, although it did not commence very -early; but Charles had suddenly re-awakened to the necessity of -reaching Naples speedily; and even the sluggish Duke of Montpensier, -who rarely rose before noon-day, was eager to get forward, and had -been in the saddle by nine. - -At length the halt was ordered; lodgings were found in a small village -for the king and the principal personages who attended him; tents were -pitched in the fields and groves around; and, after one of those -scenes of indescribable bustle and confusion which always attend the -first night's encampment of an army, the gay French soldiery gave -themselves up to revelry and merriment. - -Couriers came from Rome during the evening, bringing delicious wines -and delicacies as presents from Pope Alexander to the king; and, -although it was somewhat dangerous to eat of his meat or drink of his -cup, let it be said, none of the French court was injured that day by -the bounties he provided. - -On the following morning the march recommenced in the same order; the -encampment again took place at night; the night passed away; but, -while the army was getting under arms in the early morning, it was -found that two of the king's honoured guests were gone. - -Cardinal Borgia, the pope's hostage, was nowhere to be found; litters -and rosy curtains, attendants on foot and on horseback, pack-horses -and mules, had all disappeared, and it became very evident that Cæsar, -not liking the position he occupied in the French army, had quitted -it, and taken himself back to Rome. - -Zizim also, the unfortunate Ottoman prince, had departed, but on a -longer journey, and to a more distant land. He had been taken ill -during the night; symptoms of poison had shown themselves at an early -hour; the disease, whatever it was, had a rapid course, and ere day -dawned the eyes of Zizim were closed in the night of death. It was -shown that messengers from his friend Pope Alexander had visited him -during the preceding evening, and a thousand vague stories ran through -the camp not at all complimentary to the moral character of the pope; -but Charles VIII., whatever might be his suspicions, sent back the -family and the corpse of the Turkish prince to Alexander. The latter, -indeed, was a valuable present, perhaps more so than any corpse ever -was before or since; for, on delivering it to the agents of Bajazet, -the messengers of the pope received three hundred thousand ducats of -gold, as compensation for some act faithfully performed. - -These events created much surprise and some uneasiness in the court of -Charles VIII. The graces, the exceeding beauty, and the winning -eloquence of Cæsar Borgia had dissipated all the doubts and suspicions -which, even at that early period of his life, hung about him. At a -distance, men abhorred and condemned him; once within the magic circle -of his influence, fear and hatred passed away, and friendship and -confidence succeeded in even the most cautious. But now, when he fled -from the post he had voluntarily undertaken, when he set at nought the -engagements which he had been the first to propose, suspicion was -re-awakened; couriers were sent off in haste to the towns which -Alexander had surrendered as securities to the king, and the officers -commanding the garrisons were strictly enjoined to keep guard -carefully against a surprise. - -Before that day's march was ended, new causes of apprehension were -added to those which already existed. Intelligence was received that -Alphonzo, King of Naples, who had merited and won the hatred of his -people, had abdicated in favour of his son Ferdinand, a prince -universally beloved and respected. Gallant in the field, courteous and -kind in his personal demeanour, constant and firm, as well as gentle, -he boasted at an after period that he had never inflicted an injury -upon any of his own or his father's subjects, and there were none -found to contradict. - -Such a prince might be naturally expected to rally round him all that -was noble, generous, and gallant among the Neapolitan people; and -whatever Charles himself might think, there were many in his council -who knew well how difficult a task it is to conquer a united and -patriotic nation. - -They heard that he had assumed the crown amidst shouts and rejoicings, -that voluntary levies were swelling his forces, and that he himself -had advanced to the frontier of his kingdom, and had taken up a -commanding position ready to do battle in defence of his throne. - -The march of the King of France became much more circumspect; parties -were thrown out in different directions to obtain intelligence, and no -longer with gay and joyous revelry, but with compact array and rigid -discipline, the host moved forward, and passed the Neapolitan -frontier. - -Where was the army which was to oppose its progress? Where the -numerous and zealous friends of the young sovereign? Nowhere. - -Some turbulent proceedings in the city of Naples, instigated, it is -supposed, by French emissaries, recalled Ferdinand for a few days to -his capital. When he returned to the army, he found it nearly -disbanded, terror in the hearts of those who remained, and perhaps -treachery also. - -There was no possibility of keeping the troops together; and with -disappointment, but not with despair, Ferdinand returned to Naples, in -the hope of defending the city against the invader. Vain was the hope; -misfortune dogged him still. - -The volatile people, who had shouted so loudly as his succession, -received him in dull and ominous silence; and he soon learned that he -could neither depend upon their support nor upon the fidelity of the -mercenary troops with which his father had garrisoned the two great -citadels. Day by day from the various fortresses of the kingdom came -warnings of what might be expected of the people of Naples. - -Terrified at the approach of the French, the inhabitants of the -various cities on Charles's line of march clamoured for immediate -surrender even before they were summoned; and the governors and -garrisons only delayed that surrender till they could make a bargain -with the counsellors of the French monarch, not for safety and -immunity, but for payment and reward. - -It was an observation of the cunning Breconnel, that golden bullets -shattered down more walls in the kingdom of Naples than any of the -bombards of the army; but, as the finances of Charles were not very -flourishing, he was obliged to be lavish of promises when he could not -pay in money. - -But I must follow a little farther the history of the gallant -prince whom the French monarch came to dethrone. Left almost alone in -his palace, Ferdinand saw nothing around him but desertion and -treachery--heard of nothing but plots against his person or his power. -Calmly, deliberately he took his resolution. He selected several -vessels in the harbour, manned them with persons on whom he could -rely, and then addressed the people of Naples, telling them, in a -speech which may be apocryphal, but which is full of calm dignity and -noble courage, that it was his intention to leave the capital. - -He told them that he was ready to fight with them and for them, but -that the cowardice of the soldiery and treachery of their leaders -deprived him of the hope of success. He advised them, as soon as he -was gone, to treat with France; he set them free from their allegiance -to him; he exhorted them to live peacefully under their new lord. But -he told them that he would ever be near them, and promised that, -should the yoke of the stranger ever become insupportable, they would -find him by their side, ever ready to shed his last drop of blood for -their deliverance. - -"In my exile," he said, "it will be some consolation to me if you -allow that since my birth I have never injured any one of you, that I -have done my best to render you happy, and that it is not by my own -fault that I have lost a throne." - -Some of the people wept, we are told, but the rest stole away to the -palace, and at once commenced the work of pillage. Ferdinand drove -them out at the point of the sword; but, finding that the garrison of -Castel Nuovo had already conspired to seize his person and sell him to -the French, he hurried on board his ships with a few friends, set fire -to the rest of the vessels in the harbour, and sailed for the Island -of Ischia. - -There a new trait of human baseness awaited him. The governor of the -island and of an old castle, built, as is said, by the Saracens, which -then stood on the island, attempted to parley with the prince to whom -he owed all, refusing to receive him with more than one attendant. -Ferdinand sprang ashore alone, seized the villain by the throat, and, -casting him under his feet, trampled upon him in presence of his own -forces and the garrison. The castle was soon in his possession, but he -remained not long in Ischia. - -On the 21st February, 1495, the French monarch approached the city of -Naples. The gates were thrown open, the streets hung with tapestry, -the windows crowded with admiring groups, and Charles entered, as if -in triumph, with an imperial crown upon his head, a sceptre in one -hand, and a globe in the other, while heralds proclaimed him emperor, -though it does not appear that they said of what empire. - -The mercurial population went half wild with excitement, and shouted, -and danced, and screamed before his horse's feet; and had Charles been -St. Januarius himself, Naples could not have roared with more lusty -joy. - -Yet the two castles still held out, the one merely to make conditions -for the benefit of the garrison, the other from nobler motives. The -Castel Nuovo was bought and sold without a shot being fired; but in -the Ovo was Frederick, the uncle of the dethroned king, and a faithful -garrison. The French artillery advanced and opened fire; the guns of -the castle replied boldly. Some damage was done in the city, and it -became evident that many of the finest buildings might be destroyed. - -Negotiation was then commenced, and to Frederick's high honour be it -said, that he sought no terms for himself, although he knew that the -castle could not hold out many days. It was his nephew alone that he -thought of; and he strove hard to persuade the King of France to -bestow upon Ferdinand the duchy of Calabria on condition of his -abdicating the throne: but the council of the king would not consent -to leave so popular a competitor in Italy. They offered large -possessions in France, and drew out the negotiations to such a length, -that Frederick, finding the Ovo could hold out no longer, withdrew -with a small body of men, and, joining his nephew, took refuge with -him in Ischia. - -The city of Naples was now completely in the power of the French, but -the kingdom was not so. Scattered over its various provinces were many -strong places. Brindisi, Otranto, Regio, Galliopoli, held out for the -house of Arragon, and the governors, too honest or too wise, would not -suffer themselves to be corrupted. The French army, holding already -several fortresses in Naples and the States of the Church, could not -afford men enough either to form the regular siege of any of those -places, or to garrison them if taken; and Charles and his court gave -themselves up to all those enjoyments for which the city of the Siren -has always been renowned. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - - -In a small but richly-decorated room in Naples sat three gentlemen in -the picturesque, the beautiful costume of the times. Two were mere -youths compared with the other, and yet he was a man far on the sunny -side of middle age. Before them was a table bearing upon it dried -fruits and some wine; and many vases of fair flowers were placed upon -the board and in different angles of the chamber. The expression on -the countenance of each was somewhat grave, but it was more striking -on that of the elder man, as his face and features were, even when at -rest, of a playful turn, gay, frank, and beaming. - -"I do not like this, my young friends," he said, in a very serious -tone, "I do not like this at all," and he drank off another silver -cupful of the wine. - -"You seem to like it well, Seigneur do Vitry," said one of the young -men--"that is to say, if you mean the wine; you have drunk more than I -have ever seen you drink before." - -"I have the drunkard's ever-ready excuse, De Terrail," answered De -Vitry; "I drink to drive away care. But I did not mean the wine; it is -good enough, I believe. What I meant was, I do not like this state of -affairs here in Naples, and I asked you two boys to dine with me to -talk with you about it. Why, I believe we three seated here are the -only men left reasonable in this city--the only three Frenchmen, I -should have said; but that will not do either, for one of us is not a -Frenchman by birth; at all events, I may say the only three of the -king's army." - -"As for these Neapolitans, they are, I believe, all born mad, so there -is no use taking them into the account at all. Now Lorenzo is -reasonable. He is in love; it is the most sobering thing in the world. -I am reasonable from perhaps somewhat the same cause; but as to you, -De Terrail, I do not understand how you came to retain your senses -when men with white beards lose theirs, unless it be something in your -nature, for you are too perfect a knight not to be proud of your love, -if you had one." - -"Well, seigneur," replied Bayard, "it is not my place to find fault -with my elders; my only business is to govern my men and my own -conduct aright, but yet I cannot but say with you that I do not like -this." - -"And I as little as either," said Lorenzo; "his Majesty surely cannot -know all that is taking place here. He cannot be aware that we are -daily losing both the respect and affection of the people. Why, when -first we arrived, they seemed almost ready to worship us, and now -every man one meets is ready to lay his hand upon his dagger." - -"Ay, that is natural and common in all countries," said De Vitry; -"the common herd are always volatile, one day bowing down to their -fellow-man as an idol, the next day trampling upon him as a dog. But -the worst of it is, we have given them cause to change. We treat the -men like dogs; we consider the women as harlots. We insult men's wives -and their daughters, or do worse, and we kill the husbands and -brothers, or fathers, if they show a regard for their own honour. -Sometimes we get killed ourselves, it is true, and 'twere no pity if -'twas oftener, but for the thinning of the king's ranks, and there are -few enough of us left, I can tell you. Then see, again, how we pillage -and oppress the people? Why, I came suddenly yesterday upon a fellow -of a sutler taking away a poor old man's fish without payment, and the -old fisherman dancing out of his skin with anguish. I had the -scoundrel tied up to the strappado, and made his back acquainted with -the thongs; but what did that matter, when the same thing takes place -every day unpunished." - -"But what you say about their women is the worst," replied Bayard; -"they are naturally a jealous people here in Naples, and we certainly -do give them good cause for jealousy. We not only treat them as if we -had conquered them, when, in truth, we have hardly struck a stroke or -crouched a lance, but as if we had made them slaves." - -"We should have respected them more if they had fought us better," -said Lorenzo, who had listened without seeming to attend. "Have you -heard what the pope says? He declares that King Charles has passed -through Italy, not sword in hand, but chalk in hand. He means, I -suppose, that we have had nothing to do but to mark out our quarters. -That is a hard word for an Italian to speak or an Italian to hear." - -"It is very true though, Visconti," said De Vitry. "I wonder what can -have made such a change among the people. The Italian great companies -used to fight us as well or better than any other men in the world." - -"It was those great companies themselves which caused the decline of a -warlike spirit in the land," said Lorenzo; "at least I think so, my -lord. When the prince depends for support on his throne, and the -peasant for protection in his cottage, upon the hands and arms of -mercenaries, the social prospects of a country are very sad. Wealth -may indeed grow up, luxury extend itself, arts be cultivated; but the -hardy spirit, the power of endurance, the sense of self-reliance, are -gone. - -"For many years, here in Italy, the great companies formed the chief -dependence of Italian states, and the company of St. George was the -school of Italian chivalry; but, in the meantime, the people lost -their skill and their courage in war, and when those great companies -melted away, as they did but a few short years ago, they felt -themselves, like the Britons when abandoned by the Romans, unable to -defend themselves against their enemies or to protect their friends." - -"Well, really, Lorenzo, I know not how the Britons felt, or when they -were abandoned by the Romans," said De Vitry, laughing. "I am no great -scholar in history, but I know the Britons make very good soldiers -now, as we have felt in France. But let us talk of things not quite so -far away. I fear that while we are enjoying ourselves here, and losing -the love of the people, there are storms gathering in the north, which -may break pretty hard upon us if we do not mind." - -"I know it too well," replied Lorenzo; "I heard the facts first in -Rome from Cardinal Borgia, and related the whole to the king." - -"Ay, Cæsar Borgia! Cæsar Borgia!" said De Vitry. "I doubt much his -good faith, and would sooner have him for an enemy than a friend." - -"Why so, seigneur?" asked De Terrail. "I would always have men my -friends if I can, my enemies only when I must." - -"I will tell you why, good friend," answered De Vitry. "If Cæsar were -my enemy, I would cut his throat in ten minutes; if he were my friend, -he would poison me in five. But this matter weighs upon my mind, and I -thought that perhaps you, Lorenzo, might do something to awaken the -king to the true state of affairs, being admitted so much to his -privacy." - -Lorenzo shook his head almost sadly, saying, "I can do nothing, my -lord. As to the licence of our soldiery, the king gives orders which -are not obeyed, and he loves not to hear complaints. As to the -menacing state of things in our rear, he depends upon his Highness of -Orleans being able to join us with strong reinforcements. He has -already passed the Alps, I hear." - -"With men enough to give us help were he with us, not to force a -passage to us," said De Vitry; "and, by Heaven! it's just as well that -he should not be here at present, for how the duke and the rufflers -who are with him would take what has happened this morning it is hard -to say." - -"Why, what has happened?" asked Bayard and Lorenzo both together. "We -heard of nothing particular when we rode in from Portici." - -De Vitry smiled. "It is nothing very particular now-a-days," he said, -"but, by my faith, such things did not often happen when I was your -age, lads. Stephen de Vese, whom we all can remember, the king's valet -de chambre, has been made a duke, and has got a nice little slice of -the Kingdom of Naples to make up his duchy. I wonder what will come -next?" - -"But the worst of all is, these witty Neapolitans know all this; and -though they are very sore at seeing every office, and benefice, and -confiscated estate given to Frenchmen, they laugh to see the old -nobility mortified by such acts as this. One saucy fellow said that he -thought the king must be a necromancer, for he changed his swine into -lions." - -"By my faith," said Bayard, "it does not take much to make a -Neapolitan lion. Heaven forbid, however, that any of us should grumble -at what the king is pleased to do. But I cannot be so grave, my lord, -as you and our friend Lorenzo seem to be. The Duke of Orleans will -fight his way through to us, or we to him, depend upon it. Visconti -has been as sad, as solemn all day as a crow in a rain-storm." - -"No, no, De Terrail," said Lorenzo, "I have neither been sad nor -solemn, though a little silent, perhaps. The fact is, yesterday was -the day when my messenger should have returned from Florence, and I am -anxious for his arrival." - -"Ay, that fellow of yours, Antonio," said De Vitry, laughing, "has -lost his way at length, I warrant. I had as near as possible thrown -him into the river once for letting me mislead myself;" and he went on -to tell the story of the broken bridge, much to the amusement of his -two companions. - -"Hark! there is a horse's feet coming at a gallop," said Bayard. -"Nothing new going wrong, I trust!" and approaching the window, he -looked out into the street; then, turning round his head, he said with -a laugh, "The old story of the devil, my good lords. Antonio, on my -life, Lorenzo." - -Lorenzo turned a little pale with very natural agitation. Since his -departure from Florence he had heard nought of Leonora, and if it is -terrible even in these days of comparative security and peace, to be -without intelligence of those we love--if treacherous imagination -brings forth from the treasury of Nemesis all the dangers and -misfortunes which surround mortal life, and pile them up on the head -of the beloved, how much more dreadful must it have been in those -times, when real dangers, perils, and misfortunes without number -dogged the steps of every-day life, and were as glaring and apparent -as the sun at noon? - -It must be remembered, too, that he was very young; that his early -life had been clouded with misfortune, teaching the young heart the -sad lesson of apprehension; that, since fortune had smiled upon him -again, he had found none to love till he had met with the dear girl -who had given her whole soul to him, and to whom his whole soul had -been given in return; that by the very intensity of their passion they -stood, as it were, alone and separate from the rest of mankind, -relying, dependent upon, and wrapped up in each other, and that for -four long months they had neither seen nor held any communication with -each other. It will be easily understood how, on the return of his -courier from Florence, agitation shook him to the very soul. He would -gladly have started up and run down to meet the messenger; but fear of -the laugh of his companions restrained him, and he sat mastering his -emotions as best he could. - -Antonio was not long ere he ascended, however. His horse's bridle was -thrown over the hook in the wall, a few brief words with the servant -in the gateway followed, and then his light, agile step was heard -coming up the stairs. - -"God save you, my lord!" said Antonio, entering the room, "here is a -packet from your fair lady." - -"Did you see her? Is she well? Is she happy?" asked Lorenzo, cutting -the silken threads, which bound the letter, with his dagger. - -"I did see her, my lord, and she is quite well, but not happy, thank -God!" said Antonio, in his usual quaint way. - -"Not happy?" said Lorenzo, pausing just as he had begun to read; "not -happy?" - -"Yes, my lord, not happy. Heaven forbid that she should be over happy -while you are away. Oh, she told me a long and very pitiful tale of -how miserable she had been, thinking of how often you had been killed -and wounded in the great battles and sieges that never took place -between Rome and Naples. Seven times she dreamed you were dead, and -had all the trouble of burying you over and over again." - -"Hush, hush, my good friend Antonio; I am in no mood for such -bantering just now," said Lorenzo, and turned to his letter again. - -But the pertinacious Antonio, though he left his young lord to read, -could not help pouring forth some of the joyful fun, which welled up -in his heart whenever he was the bearer of good news, upon his -master's young friend, De Terrail. - -"By the bones of St. Barnabas!" he said, "the lady was looking sad -enough when I first found her out, perched up on the high terrace -overlooking the Mugnione, but when she saw me, she had nearly jumped -out of the window with joy. But when I told her my lord was well, and -that I had brought her a letter from him, I thought she would have -kissed me--all for joy too. Well, she did not, or I should not have -dared to come back again, for murder and kisses will come out some -way." - -Lorenzo's face, as he read on, lighted up with an expression of -comfort and joy such as it had not borne for many a day, and many an -emotion, though all happy, passed over his countenance, like the -lights and shades of a bright spring day over a sunny landscape. - -At length he laid the letter on his knee with a deep sigh, and paused -for a moment in thought. As for his two companions, Bayard had smiled -at Antonio's description of his meeting with Leonora, but De Vitry sat -grave and almost stern, with his thoughts apparently far away. - -At length Lorenzo woke up from his meditations, and raised the letter, -saying, "Here are some lines for you too, Seigneur De Vitry." - -"Then, in the fiend's name, why did you not tell me before?" exclaimed -De Vitry, with a start, and looking really angry. "Here have I been -sitting this half hour envying you that letter, and you never let me -know that I have a share in it. Read, read, and let me know what it -is." - -"Tell the Marquis De Vitry," said Lorenzo, reading, "that I have heard -from my dear cousin Blanche Marie, and that she wishes to know if he -wears her glove still, and what fortune it has found. She says, if he -has not forgotten her, and any couriers pass by Pavia, she would fain -hear of his health." - -"Is that all!" exclaimed De Vitry. "Bless her dear little soul, and -her beautiful eyes, that look like two blue mountain lakes reflecting -heaven; I have carried her glove wherever it could gain glory; but -very little of that commodity is to be won in this mere marching war, -and wherever it does occur, you must needs slip in, Visconti, and take -it all to yourself. I shall have to cut your throat some day in order -to get my own share. Well, I will write to her, though, by the Lord, -it is so long since I have handled a pen, that I know not what I shall -make of it. I would send a courier on purpose, if I thought he could -make his way through that dangerous bit between Florence and Milan." - -"He could not do it, my lord," said Antonio, "for the whole country -there is up in arms, and a courier known to be from the French army -could not pass. I only got through as far as Florence because I had an -Italian tongue in my head. I told them I was a servant of Count -Ascanio Malatesta; and, whether there is such a personage or not in -the world, they let me pass on account of his good name." - -"Then we shall have to march back ourselves, as I always thought we -should," said De Vitry, "and I shall be the bearer of my own letter. -Well, the sooner the trumpet sounds to horse the better. What say you, -De Terrail?" - -"The sooner the better, by all means," answered Bayard: "but let us -hear a little more of this, my good friend Antonio. You must have -seen a good deal by the way. Cannot you give us a notion how things -are going?" - -"Assuredly, my lord," replied Antonio: "I always wake with both eyes -open, and sleep with only one shut. In the first place, I saw many -fine men and pretty women, and many good towns and strong castles; but -I remarked one thing, which was, that most of the men had harness on -their backs, that the armourer's shops were very busy, and that the -work the ladies liked best were embroidered scarfs and sword-knots. -Moreover, in those good towns and strong castles the masons were very -busy on the outside walls, and people with teams of oxen were hauling -up long tubes, and piling up heavy balls beside them. - -"Then, as I passed through Rome, I found that his pious and immaculate -Holiness was holding a Consistory, in which, people said, he was -proposing to the cardinals this knotty point, on which he had decided -in his own mind already, viz. whether he should join the league -against the King of France or not? I rode, moreover, with some -messengers journeying from Venice; some addressed to our king from -Monsieur de Commines, and some to the Venetian ambassador here." - -"Could you obtain any intelligence from them?" asked De Vitry, -eagerly. - -"Oh yes, my lord!" said Antonio, with a laugh; "every man has a weak -side somewhere, and if I can be but three days with him--as I was with -these men--I have plenty of time to walk round him and find out where -his weak side is. I pumped out of them all they had to tell when we -were yet two days from Naples, and it amounted to this, that the -Venetians joined the league some time ago; that the King of Spain is -as far in as any of them; that the emperor is ready to attack the king -on one side, and Burgundy on the other; so that we may expect a pretty -warm reception if we march back, and a pretty hot house if we stay -here." - -"By Heaven! you must tell all this to the king," said De Vitry, -greatly excited. "Lorenzo, can you--but no! I will do it myself. Why -should I put upon another what it is my own duty to do? Hark ye, -Antonio! be with me this night at seven. I must have audience just -before his _coucher_, otherwise we shall have a pack of those lazy -bishops and cardinals with us. On my life, I do think the Cardinal of -Rouen must have two or three pretty mistresses in Naples, he is so -unwilling to leave it. Can you come, man? speak! for it is true that -every loyal subject should do his best to rouse Charles from his -apathy. Something must be determined speedily." - -"I can, of course, my lord," replied Antonio, more gravely than usual, -"if it is Signor Visconti's pleasure to spare me. I shall only have to -tell Jacques Gregoire to wake me up with one bucket of water, and -bring back my scattered senses with another, for, to say sooth, I am -mighty tired and somewhat stupid with riding so many hundred miles in -such a hurry." - -"Here, drain off the rest of the flask," said De Vitry; "there is -enough there to besot a Fleming. It may bring you to life. Let us see -you take a deep draught." - -Antonio did not disappoint him, but saw the bottom of the vessel -before he took it from his lips. As soon as he had done, however, he -said, "Well, my lords, I will humbly take my leave, and wait in his -antechamber, like other poor fools, till my patron comes back. I have -certain little particulars for his own private ear, which----" - -"About what?" asked De Vitry, gaily, resolved to pay Lorenzo back a -smile he had seen upon his lips while he was reading Blanche Marie's -message--"about what, Antonio. Speak out, or we shall think it -treason." - -"My lord, 'tis but about how much bacon the horses ate upon the road, -and how much hay I consumed; how much wine they drank, and how much -water I tippled; how I fell under the wrath of a magistrate for eating -raw cabbages in a man's garden when I was tied by the bridle to one of -the posts thereof, and how my horse had to do penance in a white sheet -for certain vices of his which shall be nameless." - -The whole party laughed, and De Vitry sent the man away, commending -him for a merry soul, and telling him to bid the man at the door bring -up more wine. Lorenzo, however, would drink no more. There was nectar -enough in Leonora's letter without wine, and he was anxious to hear -all those details--those never-sufficient details--on every word of -which a lover pleases to dwell. - -Antonio had not been gone five minutes ere Lorenzo rose and followed. -A smile came upon the faces of both his friends, but De Vitry -exclaimed, "Well, let those laugh who win, De Terrail: now I would -give a thousand golden ducats to be just in his case." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - - -The most successful men in life are usually those who, by experience -or by instinct, have learned to calculate other people's actions. It -is not invariably so, although, at first sight, such ought naturally -to be the result. If a man knows and sees all the paths around him -clearly, surely he ought to be able to choose that which will lead him -to the end he has in view. - -But we always forget one element in our calculation of others, namely, -self. We omit it altogether, or we do not give it its just value. Yet -what an important element it is! We may know--we may calculate, in -general or in detail, what will be the course in which each man's mind -will lead him; but if we know not ourselves, we can never direct the -results; for, take away the main-spring from the watch, and the cogs -and wheels are idle. - -However that may be, Antonio was one of the keenest and most -clear-sighted men at that time in Italy, although his fortunes were -still humble, and his prospects not very brilliant. It required no -very deep consideration to show a man of his character that Lorenzo -would be at his quarters almost as soon as himself. He therefore -walked quickly, and had not waited five minutes before his young lord -was in the room. - -"I wish to Heaven I could help bantering," thought Antonio, as he sat -expecting every minute to hear Lorenzo's foot on the stairs; "it is as -well to be serious sometimes; but, on my life, the more one lives in -this world the less one thinks there is anything serious in it. It is -all one great farce from beginning to end, and the only people who -cannot look upon it as a joke are infants who have skewers stuck into -them by their nurses, men who are going to be broken on the wheel, and -young lovers. These are the folks, especially the last, who cannot -understand a joke. But here he comes; I must try to be grave." - -"Now, Antonio," said Lorenzo, eagerly, "let me hear all about your -journey;" and then he added with that sort of dalliance with the -desired subject which youth and love are wont to show, "How long were -you in getting to Florence?" - -"Upon my soul, my lord, I cannot tell," replied Antonio, "unless I -were to stay to calculate how many inns I stopped at, how many times -my horse cast a shoe, and how often I had to go round to get out of -the way of some wild beast or another. But I got there as fast as I -could, be sure of that; and even then I was disappointed, for when I -got to Madonna Francesca's house I found everything shut up, and -nothing but an old custode so deaf that he could not distinguish -between Francesca and Ghibellina, for he told me that was the street -when I asked for his mistress. I made him comprehend at last by signs, -and I then found out that the whole family, servants, pages, etc., had -all gone to the villa on the Bolognese road to spend the summer. -There, of course, I had to go; but I put it off from the grey of the -night, as it then was, till the grey of the next morning; and a fine -old place it is. Don't you recollect it, signor, when we were in -Florence long ago? just up in the chestnut woods on the second slope -of the mountains." - -Lorenzo shook his head. "Well," continued Antonio, "it is somewhat -like that villa you admired close by Urbino, half castle, half palace. -On one side it looks as gloomy as a prison, and on the other as gay -and light as a fire-fly; and it has such a beautiful view all over the -Val d'Arno, running up to San Miniato, and taking in Heaven knows how -much of the country over the hills!" - -"Well, well," said Lorenzo, impatiently, "I trust I shall see it ere -long." - -"Well, my lord, I put up my horse," continued Antonio, "and asked -among the servants for the signora. All the people recollected me, and -I found she had a habit of sitting out in the garden in the early -morning, just as she used to do at the Villa Rovera, which shows how -people can be mistaken, for I thought she would have given up that -custom when there was no person to sit with her; but they said she -would sit there and think for hours." - -Lorenzo smiled, for he thought that he knew of whom she was thinking, -and he remembered that, even in the bustle of the march, he had passed -many an hour sitting listlessly on his horse, thinking of her. - -"Well, I did not find her very easily, my lord," continued Antonio, -"for it is a curious labyrinth of a place--villa, and gardens, and -all--but a last I caught sight of something like a white robe just in -the shade of a tall old cypress tree. The beautiful lady was very -flattering to me; and I am a personable sort of a man, I believe, not -easily to be forgotten when once seen. But she remembered me in a -minute, and started up and ran forward to meet me, crying out, 'What -news--what news, Antonio? Is he safe--is he well?' Then she gave me -her hand to kiss, and I kissed it, and put your letter into it, and -then she kissed the letter; but it was a hypocritical kiss, that, for -she tore it the next minute in a very barbarous manner, in order to -get at the inside. Then she kissed it again and read it. Then she read -it again, and she did not speak a word for nearly half an hour, but -went back and picked out little bits of the letter, just as a child -picks the nice bits out of a pie." - -"Out upon you, Antonio!" cried Lorenzo; "here the dear girl has been -showing all the warm feelings of her heart only for you to laugh at." - -"Indeed, I was more like to cry, for she herself cried in the end, and -the tears flowed over the long black lashes and fell upon the letter, -and had I been a crying person, I must fain have wept to keep her -company. It is very funny, my lord, that people cry when they are -extremely happy, for I am quite certain that Donna Leonora was not -crying for sorrow then, and yet she cried as if her eyes were -fountains of diamonds; and then she wiped them with her kerchief, and -turned away her head and laughed, and said, 'This is very foolish, -Antonio, but I have been dreaming of this letter's coming so long, and -now it is so much sweeter than I thought it would be, that--' and then -she forgot what she was going to say, or perhaps she never intended to -say anything more; but I understand very well what she meant, for all -that." - -Antonio paused, but Lorenzo was not yet half satisfied. He taxed the -man's memory to the utmost. I am not sure he did not tax his -imagination also to tell him every word, and to describe every look of -Leonora. Then he made him speak of the villa; and there Antonio was -quite at home, for, during the three days he had stayed, nothing had -escaped his attention. He knew every corner in the house, and every -walk or terrace in the gardens; and a strange, wild, rambling place it -must have been, the manifold intricacies of which spoke but too -plainly the terrible and lawless times which existed at the time of -its construction, and which, alas! existed still. - -The ruins may still be seen upon the slope of the Apennines, and many -a passage and chamber may be found lighted only by the rays which can -find their way through a thin plate of marble undistinguishable on the -outside from the wall or rock. The light thus afforded, be it -remarked, though dim, and at first hardly sufficient to guide the -footsteps, is mild and pleasant, and the eye soon becomes accustomed -to it. - -Mona Francesca and sweet Leonora d'Orco have passed away; the walls -have crumbled, and in many parts fallen; on base, and capital, and -fluted column wild weeds and tangling briers have rooted themselves, -but a short, smooth turf, dotted with the deep-blue gentia, leads from -the high road to the villa; and where several terraces once cut upon -the side of the hill, may still be traced, and over which the feet of -Leonora once daily walked, a thick covering of short myrtle, with its -snowy stars, has sprung up, as if fragrance and beauty rose from her -very tread. - -Antonio described the place as it then was, and the young lover -fancied he could see the first, dearest object of his ardent nature -wandering amid the cypresses which led in along avenue from the villa -to the convent higher up the hill, or seated upon the terrace looking -toward Naples and counting, with the painful longing which he felt in -his own heart, the long hours which had to elapse ere they could meet -again. - -It seemed as if Antonio's eyes could look into his heart, for just at -the moment when that longing had reached its highest point, he said -quietly, "I wonder, my lord, that you do not quit this French service -and court, and here, in our own beautiful Italy, spend the rest of -your days, when you have here large estates, and the loveliest and -sweetest lady in all the world ready to give you her hand for the -asking. On my life, I would take the cup of happiness when it is full. -Heaven knows, if you let it pass, how empty it may be when it comes -round again, if ever." - -Wise, wise Antonio! you have learned early the truth of the words of -your old patron, - - - "Chi voul esser lieto sia. - Di doman non c'e certezza." - - -Lorenzo remained silent and thoughtful, and it must be owned the -temptation was very strong; but he remained silent, as I have said, -and the man went on. "What advantage can you, sir, gain from France? -What tie binds you to follow a monarch engaged in the wildest -enterprises that ever entered a vainglorious head!" - -"Hush! hush! Antonio," said Visconti; "speak no ill of King Charles. -Much leads me to follow him; many advantages can be reaped from -France, and advantages which, for my Leonora's sake, I must not -neglect. Have I not received from Charles's hands the order of -chivalry? Have I not been led by him into the way of glory and renown? -Has he not protected my youth, treated me with every kindness, -advanced me even above those who are superior to me in all respects? - -"And would you have me share in all the glorious and successful past -of his career, and leave him at a moment when clouds are gathering in -the sky, and danger and difficulty menace his future course? But even -were I base enough to do so, where is security, peace, justice, -tranquillity to be found in this unhappy land? Were I alone in life, -without bond of love, or the happiness of any other depending upon me, -I might, indeed, cast myself into the struggling elements now at work -in Italy--I might venture all to serve or save my country. But -Leonora, what would become of her? France may meet with a reverse or a -misfortune, but it can only be for a time. There is peace and security -for her I love. Even here, under the banner of the king, is the only -safety, the only hope of justice and security. I must not abandon one -who can and will give aid and protection to all who serve him -faithfully." - -"But suppose this king were to die," said Antonio, "where would be -your security then?" - -"Founded more strongly than ever," answered Lorenzo; "the Duke of -Orleans is more nearly related to me than King Charles, and I have -always stood high in his favour. But there is no chance of King -Charles dying. He is young, healthy, and destined, I trust, to a long -life and a long reign. The thought would be far more pleasant to me to -take my Leonora into France, where, safe from all the dangers of this -beautiful and beloved but distracted land, she might spend her days in -security and peace, than to remain with her here, were all the highest -prizes of ambition ready to fall into my hand. No, no, Antonio, I must -not dream of such things. My lot is cast with that of the King of -France, at least for the present. Perchance, ere long, the opportunity -may occur of bearing my Leonora away to other lands. I cannot form -plans, I cannot even judge of probabilities, where all is uncertainty -and confusion; but through the mists of the present and the darkness -of the future twinkles still a star of hope, which will guide us home -at last, I trust. Now go and get rest and food, Antonio. I have taxed -your patience; but you would forgive me if you knew what had been the -anxieties of the last few weeks and the relief of this day." - -Antonio left him, and Lorenzo turned to Leonora's letter again. As he -read he kissed the lines her hand had traced again and again; but they -must have a place alone, as showing the character of her who wrote -better than any words of mine could do. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - - -LETTER OF LEONORA D'ORCO TO LORENZO VISCONTI. - -"It has come--it has come! Oh, yes, it has come at length. Dear -Lorenzo, my own Lorenzo, forgive me if I am wild with joy. How I have -longed, how I have looked for this letter! longed and looked, till -hope itself grew very like despair! and yet what a fool I was to -expect it sooner. You would not write till you reached Naples. I knew -it well; you told me so. But what a time has it seemed! Oh, those -three months between the day of your departure and the day when you -wrote--three _short_ months, people would say; three long ages to -me--how slowly, how heavily have they passed away! - -"I believe the sun has shone and the sky been clear, and winter has -gone and spring has come again, and the earth, grown weary of having -no flowers, is putting out blossoms on every spray, and sprinkling the -ground with gems; but every day has been a day of mist and darkness to -me, a night of fear and dread. - -"Consider that I knew nought of your fate--that in every siege or -battle that took place my whole hopes, my whole happiness was perilled -upon each stroke that fell. I could bear it, dear Lorenzo, if I were -near. I could ride with you through the thickest of the fight; no weak -terror, no idle cautions should keep you back, or distract your mind, -or bate your daring, or paralyse your arm, were I but near to bathe -your brow, or pillow your head, or soothe your pain, if you came back -sick and wounded. But you were alone, with none but menials near you. -In the hour of anguish or of death there was no Leonora to console, to -comfort, to tend you, and, at the last, to go hand in hand with you on -high, and be your sister in a better world. This is what gave -poignancy to all the sorrows of absence. - -"But why should I plead my cause with you as if you would blame my -terror; or think hardly of the anxieties I have felt? I know you can -understand them--I know you can sympathise with them. Yes, yes, you -have been apprehensive and anxious for me--I see it in every line of -your letter--for me, whose days have passed without event or incident, -without danger and without fear. - -"Oh, my beloved, what can be more wearisome, what can be more full of -dark, dull dread than those still, eventless days, when, like a -prisoner in his solitary cell, our soul sits expecting the blow of -fate. - -"But it has come--the dear assuaging letter has come to tell me that -you are safe, that you are well, that you love me still, that your -heart yearns for our meeting. It was long upon its way; but I, do -believe poor Antonio brought it as fast as he could. I think he knew -how I longed for its coming--how I longed for yours. - -"Oh, how I long for it still, my Lorenzo; and yet there is a pleasure -in having to write. I can tell you on this page--I can dare to own to -you more than I could by spoken words. This paper cannot see my cheek -glow, nor, though cold and unsympathetic as the world, can it smile -coldly at feelings it cannot comprehend. Oh yes, there are many -hundred miles between us, and I dare pour out my whole heart to you. I -dare tell you how much I love you; how you have become part of my -happiness--of my being; how my existence is wrapped up in yours. - -"When I think of that long journey together--of that journey which -your noble nature made safe for me, and oh! how happy too, I thank -Heaven, which has made me know a man whom I can reverence as well as -love. - -"Even as I write, the memory of those sweet days comes back, every -act, every word, every look is remembered. The tones that were music -to me, the look that was light, are present to my eye and ear; my head -upon your bosom; your eyes look into mine, and the burning kisses go -thrilling through my veins into my heart. - -"Oh come soon, Lorenzo, come and realize all our dreams; blot out this -long period of anxious absence from my memory, or only leave it as a -dark contrast to our bright joy. I can part with you no more, my -beloved; I must go with you where you go. Nothing now opposes our -union; you say my father's consent is given. Let me have the right to -be with you everywhere, whether in the city or the camp. Let me be -your companion, your friend, your consolation, and you shall be my -guide, my protector, my husband. - -"How wildly, how madly I write! some would say how unwomanly. Let them -say what they please. They who blame have never loved as we have -loved--have never trusted as we trust; or else they have never known -you, and cannot comprehend how worthy you are of seeing a clear -picture of Leonora's heart, how little capable of misinterpreting one -word she writes, or abusing one feeling which you yourself have -inspired. - -"Perhaps, were you here, I could not tell you all this; my tongue -might hesitate, my voice might fail me, but the same sensations would -be within, and the words, unspoken, would be written in my heart. - -"It is hard to come forth from our own separate world, and speak of -the things of the common, every-day life. Indeed, I have nothing to -tell, for I have lived in my own dear world ever since you left me; -but one thing I must mention. Tell the Marquis de Vitry that I have -heard from my dear cousin Blanche Marie, and she wishes to know if he -wears her glove still, and what fortune it has found. She says, if he -has not forgotten her, and any couriers pass by Pavia, she would fain -hear of his health. - -"This is the way in which I ought to write to you, I suppose, Lorenzo; -but I cannot do so; and yet, Heaven bless the dear girl, and grant -that her union with De Vitry may be as happy as ours. She well -deserves as much happiness as can be found on earth, for she has ever -preferred others to herself. I almost feel selfish when I compare -myself with her, and consider how completely your love has absorbed -every thought and feeling of your LEONORA." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - - -"From this, sire, I am of opinion," continued the Cardinal Bishop of -St. Malo, after having given a long exposition of his views in regard -to the state of Italy, "that it would be wise for your Majesty to send -some high dignitary of the Church to confer with the pope, and -endeavour to detach him from the League, of which people speak so -much, and of which Monsieur de Commines is so much afraid. His -Holiness can hardly be supposed to be sincerely attached to it, and -will doubtless yield to some slight inducements. At the same time, I -will send messengers to Monsieur de Commines, instructing him to -negotiate with the Venetians concerning a commercial treaty and a -guarantee of the coasts of Italy against the invasion of the Turks. -There is nothing, to my eye, very formidable in the treaty between the -Italian powers, which was fairly and openly published at the Vatican, -and in which his Majesty was invited to take part. It is not usual for -monarchs to be asked to fight against themselves, and I cannot but -believe that the objects of the confederation have been plainly and -candidly stated, notwithstanding the terrors of Monsieur de Commines, -who has now somewhat of the timidity of age about him." - -The prelate looked round the council-board, at which were seated some -of the most distinguished soldiers of France, and it was evident, from -the self-satisfied features of his countenance, that he thought he had -made a very effectual and convincing speech. He was destined to be -much disappointed, however; for, though Montpensier and several others -held their tongues, a somewhat sarcastic smile curled the lips of the -old soldiers, and La Tremouille probably spoke the universal -sentiment, though in rather an abrupt and discourteous way. - -"There spoke a priest," he said, "my lord the king; this is a council -of war, I think, and though I could not probably celebrate mass as -well as monseigneur here can cook a ragout, yet I think I know -somewhat more of war than he does, and perhaps as much of policy. -Commines is not alarmed without cause. - -"Put by paltering with naked facts, and you will find the case to -stand thus: The most formidable league, probably, that ever was formed -against a King of France, has been entered into by the Venetians, the -Duke of Lombardy, all the petty princes of the North of Italy, the -King of Spain, the Emperor of Germany, and the King of the Romans. All -these are jealous of your Majesty's conquest of Naples, and the pope, -knowing that he has given you good cause of offence, hates you because -he has done you wrong, has broken his treaty with you, and fulfilled -not one single promise that he made, except giving cardinals' hats to -the Bishop of St. Malo and the Archbishop of Rouen. He also has joined -the league against you. There is one plain fact. - -"Now for another, sire. Your enemies are in an active state of -preparation. The Venetians have levied large forces, both of -men-at-arms, of infantry, and of light Albanian cavalry. These -Stradiotes are scouring all Lombardy. The Duke of Milan alone has a -force in the field superior in numbers to any your Majesty can bring -against him. The houses of Este and Gonzaga are both in arms; the -fleets of Genoa and Venice are both upon the sea to cut off your -reinforcements, and the King of Spain is hurrying his preparations, -not alone to bar your passage into France, but to attack your French -dominions. - -"Now, sire, it does not behove the high officers of your Majesty's -crown and army to risk the perdition of their monarch for an old -woman's tale or a churchman's delays. What is the advice we are bound -to give you? To remain here shut up in this remote corner of Italy -till your enemies gather strength every day, attack you on all sides, -and sweep us up, as one of these Neapolitan fishermen sweeps up the -fish in his net? Certainly not. The only course, then, is for you to -return to France. Can you return by sea? It is impossible; we have no -ships at hand to carry us, and if we had, there are superior fleets -upon the water. By land, then, is the only way--I was going to -say--still open, but I can hardly say that, for De Vitry here tells me -that troops are gathering fast upon the Taro. But they are not yet in -sufficient numbers to be of much account." - -"But, Monsieur de la Tremouille," said the king, interrupting him, -"would you have me abandon Naples, after all it has cost us to acquire -it?" - -"That does not follow, sire," replied La Tremouille; "You can garrison -the principal strong places of this kingdom, and then, with the rest -of the army, march, lance in hand, to the frontier of France. I will -undertake, upon my head, that we cut our way through if we set out at -once; if we delay, God only knows what will be the result. Our -junction once effected with the Duke of Orleans, we have nothing more -to fear, and may then either turn upon this Ludovic the Moor and -chastise his many crimes, or gathering fresh forces in France, return -to Naples, and set all our enemies at defiance. This is my advice. I -know not what is the opinion of the other lords here present." - -"I go with my good cousin, sire," said Montpensier: "and if it be -needful, and your Majesty so commands, I am ready to remain here in -Naples, and do my best to keep the kingdom for you till you can return -yourself or send me reinforcements." - -Every member of the council, with the exception of the -bitterly-mortified Cardinal of St. Malo, concurred in the views of La -Tremouille. - -Charles still hesitated, and ended by endeavouring to combine the -advice of his minister with that of his generals. He gave orders to -prepare for immediate departure, and sent prelates to the pope, and -letters to his ambassador at Venice. The appearance of the first in -Rome served to warn Alexander to fly from the approach of the French -army; the receipt of the latter in Venice only served to hasten the -preparations of the Venetians to oppose the king's passage. But still -with some vacillation of purpose, before the council rose he -questioned De Vitry as to the nature and source of the intelligence he -had received regarding the concentration of troops upon the Taro. - -"I have got the man here without, sire," replied De Vitry; "shall I -call him in, that your Majesty may examine him yourself?" - -The king bowed his head, and a moment after Antonio was in his -presence. The scene was somewhat imposing, for all the greatest men of -France--those who had served their country--those who had made -themselves a name in history, were present round that council-board; -but I fear, Antonio's was not a very reverent nature. It was not alone -that he had but small respect for dignities, but that he had as little -for what are generally considered great actions. Doughty deeds were to -him but splendid follies; and he felt more reverence in the presence -of a woman suckling her babe than he would have felt for Cæsar in his -hour of triumph. If he was a philosopher, it was certainly of the -school of the cynics. - -On the present occasion he appeared before the King of France with -perfect unconcern; perhaps there was a little vanity in it, for he -argued, "They may know more about some things, but my mother-wit is as -good as theirs, and may be better. Why should I stand in awe of men, -many of whom are inferior to myself, and few superior?" - -"Well, sir, tell what you know of this matter," said the king, taking -it for granted that De Vitry had told him why he was brought within. - -"Of what matter, sire?" asked Antonio; "I know a good deal of several -matters." - -"I mean of what is taking place beyond the mountains," said the king. -"I thought Monsieur De Vitry had explained." - -"He merely told me to come to your Majesty's presence," replied -Antonio. "As to what is taking place beyond the mountains, sire, there -are many things I wish were not. It is now the month of May, and the -prospects of the harvest are but poor. There is plenty of it, but the -crop is likely to be bad--spears and bucklers instead of wheat and -furrows, sire, and blood and tears instead of gentle rain and light -airs." - -"Be more precise, sirrah," said the Cardinal of St. Malo, sharply; "we -want facts, and not any more moralizing." - -"Heaven forbid that I should moralize in your Eminence's presence," -replied Antonio, with great gravity; "but if his Majesty wishes to -know what I saw on my journey from this place to Florence and back -again, I will deliver it at large." - -"Pray spare yourself that trouble," said De Vitry, interposing; -"merely tell, and that as briefly as possible, my good friend, what -you told me just now about the state of the country, especially on the -other side of the Apennines." - -"Why, my lord, the people are arming all through Romagna and the Papal -States," replied Antonio. "I have never seen such an arming in Italy -before. There is not a small baron or a vicar of the Church who is not -getting men together; and had it been know I was in the French -service, I could not have passed; from which I argue that all this -preparation bodes no good to France. Then, as to the other side of the -mountains, I saw nothing with my own eyes. But I heard from a -muleteer, who had been plundered of his packs by the Albanians, that -about Fornovo and Badia there is a Venetian force of several thousand -men--a thousand lances, he said, at the least, besides foot-soldiers, -and that the Stradiotes were scouring the country right and left, and -bringing in food and fodder to a camp they are forming near Badia on -the Taro. Another told me that on the road near Placenza he had passed -a force of some five thousand men marching towards the mountains; and -the report ran that his Highness of Orleans had been stopped near -Novara by a superior army and forced to throw himself into that -place." - -"That accounts for there being no letter, sire," said La Tremouille. - -"He surely could have found means of sending us intelligence," said -Charles; "it is always customary, I believe, my lords, to send more -couriers than one, and by different routes." - -"No French courier could pass, sire," said Antonio; "there are -barriers across the whole of Italy, whose sole business is to cut off -all communication between your Majesty and your French dominions." - -"Then how did you pass?" exclaimed the king, somewhat irritated by the -man's boldness. - -"Because I can be a Frenchman when I like and an Italian when I like, -may it please your Majesty," replied Antonio; "this time I thought fit -to be an Italian, and that saved me." - -"I would fain have the man asked," said La Tremouille, "if he knows by -whom those bands are commanded, led, or instigated." - -"I know nothing but by common report," replied Antonio, "and she is a -stumbling jade upon whom it is not well to rest weighty matters. -However, she sometimes stumbles right, and the general rumour -throughout the whole country was that his Eminence the Cardinal Cæsar -Borgia was at the bottom of the whole. Certain it is that the men who -stopped and robbed the muleteer professed themselves to be his -soldiers." - -"I cannot believe it," said the king; "he was wrong in leaving our -camp it is true, when he had voluntarily surrendered himself as a -hostage, but in all our communications he showed reverence for the -crown of France, and professed respect and affection for our person." - -A slight smile came upon the lips of several of the counsellors, who -had learned by experience the difference between professions and -realities, but no one ventured to assail the king's opinion, and -shortly after Antonio was dismissed; but it was only to give place to -the king's provost, who came to report very unmistakable signs of -mutiny and sedition in the city of Naples itself. From his account it -appeared that even those who had been most discontented with the -Arragonese princes, and had greeted most warmly the entrance of -Charles into Naples, longed for the restoration of the old dynasty, -and were, step by step, advancing towards revolt. - -"They are an ungrateful people," said Charles; "have I not freed them -from taxes and burdens insupportable?" - -"Yes, sire," replied bluff La Tremouille; "but I must say in their -favour that if _you_ have freed them, some of our good friends have -burdened them sufficiently. In fact, your Majesty, it has been but a -change in the nature, not in the weight of the load, and the old story -goes, if I recollect right, that the ass who carried the gold, found -his pack quite as heavy as the ass who carried the hay." - -"You are somewhat bold," replied the king, with a frowning brow. - -"I am, sire," replied the undaunted soldier; "perhaps too bold, and I -can crave your pardon on the plea that I am rendered bold by my zeal -for your Majesty's service. The people of the whole kingdom we know to -be discontented at the end of three short months. Now, as your Majesty -has shown yourself full of the kindest and most liberal feelings -towards them, this discontent can only be produced by the exactions -and peculations of inferior persons. I mention it now, whatever it may -produce, because I sincerely hope and trust that Naples may ever -remain a dependency of the French crown; and it will be necessary that -these things be examined into very closely, in order that the country -may be rendered a willing and attached dependency, rather than a -hot-bed of mutiny and discontent--a sore in the side of France." - -"You mean well, I know," said the king, rising; "let all preparations -be made with speed to commence our march at the earliest possible day. -Montpensier, we will confer with you privately on the defence and -maintenance of the kingdom at the hour of noon--that is to say," he -continued, with a faint smile, "if you can contrive to rise so early -in the morning." - -Thus saying, Charles quitted the council chamber with a sad feeling of -the weight and difficulty, the care and anxiety, the duty and -responsibility of a crown. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - - -I am about to quote from another who knew well the facts he recorded. -His name matters not, but the whole is a translation, upon my word. -"The king had remaining nine hundred men-at-arms, comprising his -household troops, two thousand five hundred Swiss, two thousand of the -French infantry, and about fifteen hundred men fit to bear arms that -followed the army. These troops formed a body of nine thousand -combatants at the utmost, with whom he had to cross all Italy. - -"This small army was not yet out of Naples when Ferdinand had effected -his landing on the coast of Calabria, at the head of some Spanish -troops. Charles began his march on the 20th day of May, not long after -his coronation. He met with no impediment on his march to Rome, from -which city the pope had fled. He passed through it, strengthened -himself by the reinforcements collected from various garrisons which -he had left in the strong places of the ecclesiastical states, and -sacked the small town of Toscanella, which refused to receive his -troops." - -So far my author; but after quitting Rome, whither did Charles direct -his march? First to Viterbo, thence to Sienna, and from Sienna to -Pisa. Was he bending his steps to Florence? Was the long-looked-for -hour coming quick to Lorenzo Visconti? Poor youth! he could not tell. -His heart beat when he thought of it. He formed eager and passionate -plans--he dreamed dreams of joy. He would press Leonora to an -immediate union; he would carry her with him to France; he would take -her to the sweet banks of the Loire, and in that old chateau he so -much loved he would see melt away at least some few of those bright -days of youth which God made for happiness. Oh! the cup and the -lip--the cup and the lip! How short the span that will contain many -and momentous events! - -The army arrived at Pisa, and every one asked his neighbour what was -the direction of the next day's march. No one could tell. The morning -broke, and no orders were given. The citizens of Pisa rejoiced, -provided for the French soldiers as if they had been brothers, -rivalled each other in showing kindness and courtesy, and lost no -means in testifying that gratitude which they might well feel, or of -conciliating that friendship which had already proved so valuable. - -The King of France busied himself with their affairs, endeavoured to -moderate between them and the Florentines, and enjoyed all the -pleasures of that city in the fairest period of the year; but though -every day increased his peril, he spoke not of the forward march, and -never hinted an intention of visiting Florence ere his departure from -Italy. - -At length Lorenzo could endure suspense no longer, and craved -permission to absent himself for a few days. - -"They must be few indeed," said the king gravely. "If you can ride -thither in one day and back in another, you can spend one day with -your sweet lady, my good cousin. On the fourth we march forward for -Pontremoli." - -The time was very short, but still a day--an hour with Leonora was a -boon not to be neglected. It was night when Lorenzo received the -permission, and ere an hour was over he was on the way to Florence -with a small train. The air was clear and calm, the moon was shining -brightly, near the full, and the ghost-like, dreamy beauty of the -white marble buildings harmonized with the lights that fell upon them. -Oh fair Pisa! city of beauty, of sorrow, and of crime! Standing in thy -streets and remembering thy past history, one knows not whether to -admire, to grieve, or to abhor! - -The word was given, the gates were opened, and the train passed out, -not numerous enough for any military expedition, yet comprising too -many men, and those too well armed, for any party of mere pleasure, -except in days of war and peril. Then the country between Pisa and -Florence was regarded as peaceful, as those days were; but peace was a -mere name in the time I speak of, and it was well known that armed -parties had ravaged the adjacent districts ever since the arrival of -the King of France at Pisa. - -Yet how calm and tranquil was the sky, how soft and soothing the early -summer air, how melodiously peaceful the song of the choristers of the -night, and even the voice of the cricket on the tree or the insects in -the grass! The eternal warfare of earth and all earth's denizens -seemed stilled as if the universal knell awaited the coming day. - -Through scenes, oh, how fair! passed on Lorenzo and his train, twelve -mounted men, fully equipped and armed, and half a dozen pages and -servants, and as they rode, the same feelings--varied, but yet the -same--were in the bosom of both leader and followers; a weariness of -the turmoil and ever-irritating watchfulness of war, a sense of -relief, a blessed sensation of repose in the quiet night's ride, and -the peaceful moon, and sweet bird's song--a consciousness of calm, -such as comes upon the seaman when the storm has blown out its fury, -and the sky is clear, and the ocean smooth again. - -The rudest man in all the train felt it, and all were silent as they -rode, for few of them knew the sources of the emotions they -experienced, fewer sought to analyse them, and only one was moved by -passions which rendered the scenes and circumstances through which he -passed accessories to the drama playing in his own heart. Lorenzo felt -them all, it is true, but it was feeling without perception. The -moonlight, and the trees, and the birds' song, and the glistening -murmur of the river, all sank into his mind and became part of the -dream in which he was living, and yet he remarked none of all these -things distinctly, and gave every thought to Leonora. - -"She will come with me," he thought, "she will surely come with me. -What matters it that the time is short? It is not as if we were the -mere acquaintances of a day. We have wandered half through Italy -together; she has rested in my arms, and pillowed her head upon my -bosom. She will never refuse to come, though there be but one day for -decision and action. But then Mona Francesca, will she not oppose? She -is one of those soft, considerate women of the world, who dress -themselves at the world's eye, and regulate every look by rule. She -cannot feel as we feel, and will think it easy for me to return a few -months hence and claim my bride with all due ceremony--a few months, -and a few months! Why life might slip away, and Leonora never be mine. -The present only is ours in this fleeting world of change, and we must -not let it fly from us unimproved. Yet Mona Francesca will certainly -oppose. At all events, she will wish to consult some one, to shield -herself under the opinions of others from the world's comments. On -Leonora only can I rely, and on her must I rely alone. Here, Antonio, -ride up beside me here: I wish to speak with you." - -The man rode up, and Lorenzo questioned him much and often. He asked -if there were not a church near the villa, and what he knew, if he -knew anything, of the priest. - -"There is a church some two miles off in the valley," said Antonio, -"but I never saw the priest. The servants told me, however, he was a -severe man, who exacted every due to the uttermost." - -That was not the man for Lorenzo's purpose; and he paused and waited, -and then propounded other questions, to which he received answers not -much more satisfactory. At length Antonio exclaimed, with a laugh, -"Tell me, my lord, what is it you want with a priest, and it shall go -hard but your poor Antonio will find means to gratify you. You cannot -want to confess, methinks, since you confessed last, or you must have -sinned somewhat cunningly for me not to find you out." - -"See here, Antonio," replied Lorenzo; "I must be back on the day after -to-morrow at Pisa. Now, in a word, the Signora d'Orco must be mine ere -I depart." - -"Oh, then, my lord, take her home with you," said Antonio, with some -feeling. "If your absence now has caused her such pain when you are -but lovers, think how she would pine, poor lady, if you were so long -absent from your wife." - -"Such is my intention, Antonio," answered Lorenzo. "When I meet her -again, I can part with her no more; but here is the difficulty: Mona -Francesca will oppose our hasty union. It must, therefore, be private. -Once mine by the bonds of the Church, and with her father's full -consent, which I have in writing, no opposition can avail. She is mine -beyond all power to separate us--she is mine, and for ever. Mona -Francesca must perforce consent to her going with me to France, and, -indeed, if she did not, her opposition would be vain." - -"I wish you had brought more men with you, my lord," replied Antonio, -"but that is neither here nor there. As we have begun, so we must go -on. Then, next, as to a priest, which is now, I suppose, the -all-important question. First, we must find one who is willing; next, -we must find one who is sure; and, thirdly, we must find one who is -dexterous. Give me but two hours, and I think I can make sure of the -man. When I was telling you all about the Villa Morelli, I mentioned -that there was a monastery just above, not a quarter of a mile up the -mountain. You did not take much notice of what I said, for you did not -know how serviceable it might be. Oh, my lord, you cannot imagine how -useful convents and monasteries are on various occasions, nor what -various sorts of men can be found within them. Now there are always -many who have taken priest's orders, and in this monastery there is -one, at least, qualified in every way to celebrate matrimony, or -anything else you like. He is Madonna Francesca's director, and -therefore must be a holy and devout man." - -There was a slight touch of sarcasm in Antonio's tone, but that did -not prevent Lorenzo from presenting the very reasonable objection that -he was the last man who ought to be asked to perform the marriage -ceremony of Mona Francesca's temporary ward without her knowledge and -consent. - -"My good lord is not much acquainted with priests and friars," said -Antonio; "but just as certain as Monseigneur Breconnel steals the -king's money just when his Majesty has most need of it himself, so -will Fra Benevole marry you to the signora, and help to keep Madonna -Francesca quiet and ignorant till all is over. Why, I have drunk more -than one bottle with him; and for a sufficient sum--for the benefit of -the monastery--always for the benefit of the monastery, you know--he -will either give Mona Francesca such a penance for all the sins she -has even wished to commit as will keep her in her own chamber all day, -or he will drug her little cup of vino di Monte Capello, which she -takes every morning, so as to make her sleep for four-and-twenty -hours, or he will poison her outright and save you all further trouble -about her, just as your lordship likes," and Antonio touched his cap -with solemn irony. - -"The two latter alternatives are rather too strong for my taste, -Antonio," replied Lorenzo, "but the first will do well enough, if you -can depend upon your boon companion." - -"We can make him reliable, sir," said Antonio; "that depends entirely -upon the ducats. Faith is a very good thing when it is of the right -sort; but the only faith that is good is faith in God and the blessed -Virgin. Faith in man must be tied with gold, and then it may hold -fast. What am I to promise him if he perform the marriage ceremony, in -the chapel of the villa, between you and the signorina some time -to-morrow, and contrive the means?" - -"Why, Cynic, he will demand the money in hand," said his young master. -"Why should he trust to your faith if you will not trust to his?" - -"We will both trust half way, my lord," replied Antonio, "and then it -will be the interest of neither to deceive the other. If you please, -we will give him half the money for his promise, and the other half -after his performance. He shall have one moiety when he says he will -do it; and the other when he gives you, under his own hand, the -certificate of the marriage. What do you think he ought to have?" - -"Whatever he asks," replied Lorenzo; "a couple of hundred ducats." - -"Oh! the extravagance of youth!" exclaimed Antonio; "he would poniard -his own father for a quarter of that sum. If I understand you right, I -am to offer him anything he seeks under two hundred ducats." - -"Nay, I placed not that limit absolutely, my good friend," answered -the youth; "the truth is, Antonio, this marriage must take place at -once. I will not leave my Leonora again, and now she can only go with -me as my wife. Whatever he asks he must have. I have about five -hundred ducats with me, and he can surely trust my word for more, -should it be necessary." - -"Heaven forgive us!" exclaimed Antonio; "you are almost blasphemous, -sir, to suppose that a priest of the Catholic Church would set such a -price upon matrimony when he charges so little for any other sin you -please to mention. I will arrange the matter for you easily, now I -know how far you will go. You have no mind, perhaps, to have any -cardinal assassinated, or any rich lord put out of the way, for I dare -say I could get it done gratis, as a sort of make-weight, when your -lordship is so liberal about matrimony! But look upon that matter as -all arranged. You have nothing to do but prepare the lady and obtain -her consent, and I will let you know, within four hours after we -arrive, the when, and the where, and the how." - -"You have but a sad opinion of the clergy of your own country, my good -Antonio," said Lorenzo, with a mind greatly relieved by his -companion's promises. - -"On my life, it is not of the clergy alone I have such a favourable -opinion," replied Antonio, laughing; "from prince to peasant it is all -the same thing, only the clergy have the best opportunities. Look at -our friend Ludovic of Milan; look at your friend Cardinal Cæsar; pope, -prince, lawyer, doctor, friar, it is all the same thing. We have got -into a few trifling bad habits here in Italy, what between Guelphs and -Ghibelines, popes and emperors. Those who dare not draw a sword, -unsheath a dagger; and those who wish not to spill blood, because -people say it leaves a mark behind it, use poison, which leaves none. -Buondoni, who came near killing you, was, I do believe, one of the -best of all the rascals in Italy. He was always ready to peril his own -life, and rather preferred it. Why, he could have had you put out of -the way by something dropped into a cup of wine or scattered on a -bunch of grapes for half a sequin." - -"What! in the Villa Rovera?" asked Lorenzo, in a tone of doubt. - -"It might have been difficult there, it is true," replied Antonio, -"and perhaps Ludovic was in a hurry; otherwise he would have had it -performed, as they call it, anywhere on your journey, for less than it -cost Buondoni to feed his horses on the road to Milan. Death is cheap -here, my lord. But let us talk of business again. I had better lighten -your purse at once of a hundred ducats, that I may be prepared when we -arrive to go to early mass, which I can do safely, as I have nothing -on my conscience but a small trifle of matrimony, which we are told is -a holy state." - -Lorenzo not only gave him readily the money he required, but would -fain have pressed more upon him, for he was fearful even of the least -impediment occurring to frustrate or delay the execution of his plan. - -Throughout the livelong night he and Antonio continued to discuss -every part and particular of the scheme they had devised; not, indeed, -that there was anything more of importance to be said, but Lorenzo -loved to dwell upon details which gave rise to happy thoughts, and -Antonio had an amiable toleration for his master's passion. - -Day dawned at length, and found the party of horsemen some five miles -from the city of Florence; but their course was no longer to be -pursued in that direction. Under the guidance of Antonio, they left -the broad highway between Pisa and Florence, and began to ascend by a -narrower and steeper path toward the villa they were seeking. It -was a wild and somewhat savage region through which they now -passed--beautiful, indeed, but stern in its beauty. - -The sides of the Apennines in those days were covered with dense -forests, which, long after, were cut down to take away their shelter -from the robbers which infested them; and the oaks and chestnuts had -even in some places encroached upon the road. In other spots, however, -large masses of rock appeared; and in others, again, the path, having -been cut along the side of the hill, displayed a grand view over the -wide and beautiful valley of the Arno and the surrounding country. At -the first of these gaps, where the open landscape presented itself, -neither Lorenzo nor Antonio looked toward it, for both had matter of -thought within which made them somewhat indifferent to external -objects. They might have even passed the second and third without -notice, but one of the soldiers who followed exclaimed, "That is a -good large body of men, my lord." - -"Ha!" cried Lorenzo, immediately turning his eyes to the open country. -"Indeed it is, Parisot. There must be full five hundred spears." - -"More than that, sir," replied the man; "but they are not coming our -way." - -"Nor going to Florence, either," remarked Antonio. "They are no -Florentine troops, Monsieur Parisot." - -"I do not know what they are," said the soldier, "but I know what they -are not. They are not French troops, or you would see them in better -order. Why, they are riding along like a flock of Sarcelles." - -"Ay, I see," said Antonio; "not half the regularity of a flock of wild -geese." - -"Don't you think, my lord," continued Parisot, without remarking -Antonio's quiet sneer at his boast of his countrymen's military array, -"don't you think they look like one of those irregular bands which we -sometimes saw in the Roman States? people said they were kept up by -Cardinal Borgia. They go flying about just in the same way, shifting -from flank to rear--now in line, now in hedge, and now in no order at -all." - -"They do look like them," said Lorenzo; "but I should hardly think the -cardinal would venture his men so far as this." - -"Oh, my lord, you cannot tell how far he will venture," said Antonio, -"especially when he is only taking the dues of the Church. He and his -holy father have a right to tithes, and those bands are merely sent -out to collect a tenth of all the property in Italy. But what are they -doing now? Some twenty of them have gone to that pretty little villa -to get a draught of water, I warrant." - -"Well, let us pass on," said Lorenzo; "they do not see us up here, or -they might prove troublesome fellow-travellers." - -But before he could move on beyond the break in the trees from which -he had been observing the cavalry in the valley below, a thin white -smoke rose up from the villa, and the detachment which had ridden up -to it was seen retreating towards the main body of their comrades, who -had paused upon the high road. The next moment a flash of flame -mingled with the smoke, and then, from two of the windows, lines of -fire were seen to extend along a verandah, probably of wood, which ran -round three sides of the house. Another moment, and all was in flames, -while indistinctly were seen several persons, apparently women, in the -hands of the brutal soldiery. - -Lorenzo shut his teeth close and rode on. He uttered not a word aloud, -but he thought, "Oh that I had supreme power over this beautiful land, -if but for a brief space of time, I would be a tyrant for the people's -good--remorseless, cruel to all such fiends as these. But I would stop -the crimes that make a hell of a paradise, or die." - -The ascent seemed very long. Oh, how long the last portion of any -journey seems when we are hastening to those we love! "Is it much -farther, Antonio? is it much farther?" asked Lorenzo, repeatedly. - -"Only a mile, my lord--only half a mile," replied the man. But the -mile seemed a day's journey, the half mile a league. - -At length the joyful words were heard, "We turn off here, signor." But -still the chestnut woods hid the villa from sight; and though Lorenzo -now pushed on his jaded horse fast along the more level ground they -had reached, some more slow moments passed ere he came upon the -smooth, free turf-ground, bedizened with flowers, which Antonio had -described at the approach to the villa. It opened out at a turn of the -road very suddenly, and the young knight was upon it ere he was aware. -But in an instant he reined in his horse, and was still gazing forward -with a look of dismay and anguish when his men came up. - -There indeed stood the Villa Morelli--at least what was left of it. -There were the old towers firm and perfect externally, though the -windows were cracked and broken; but the more modern edifice which was -turned towards the west for the purpose of catching the full influence -of the most beautiful hour of Italy, with its light graceful -architecture, its richly-ornamented windows, and fairy colonnade, -where was it? - -Parts still stood shattered and toppling over, as if about to fall the -next moment; part lay in fragments upon the terrace, and part had -fallen inward, crushing the luxurious halls and splendidly-furnished -chambers, while here and there a wandering wreath of smoke, and even a -creeping line of fire among scorched and broken beams, told by what -agency the ruin had been produced. - -Old men hardened in the petrifying experience of the world, and men of -iron souls created and fashioned for the sterner things of life, may -be brought suddenly into the presence of such scenes, may even have -personal interest in them, without feeling more than a vague general -sense of disgust and horror at those who have produced them, and the -sorrow which is natural to the human mind in seeing fair things -blighted, either by gradual decay or sudden accident. But Lorenzo -Visconti was not one of those. There was a certain degree of -firmness--even perhaps sternness in his character, it is true; but he -was full of emotions, and sensitive, and very young. - -There had dwelt his young bride when last he heard of her; there he -had every reason to believe she had been dwelling peacefully within a -few short hours. Is it wonderful that, besides all the terrible fears -which rushed in an indistinct crowd through his head, a thousand wild -thoughts should crowd upon his brain and seem to paralyse its -functions. - -Where was she now? What had become of her? Had she been carried off by -the baud of ruthless marauders he had seen below? Was she buried in -those dreadful ruins? These and a thousand other fearful questions -were flooding his mind like the waves of a sea stirred by a hurricane. - -All paused in awe-struck silence for a moment, and then Lorenzo struck -his horse with the spur, and dashed on up the terrace even among the -still hot fragments. "Ho! is there any one here?" he cried--"is there -any one here? For the love of God, answer if there be! Ride round to -the back, Antonio. Parisot, take that other way to the left. See if -you can find any to answer. But be quick--be quick! there is no time -to spare." - -"But what would you do, my lord?" asked Antonio, in a sad tone. - -"Pursue the villains to the gates of hell!" cried Lorenzo. "I will, I -tell you! quick!" - -More than once Lorenzo repeated the shout, "Ho! is there any one -there?" while the men were absent, and sometimes he would think of -sending some of the men down to a small peasant-house he saw about -half a mile below, and then he would remember that he might need them -all at a moment's notice; and often would he mutter words to himself, -such as "They dare not resist a French pennon. What if they do? Then -die. Better to die a thousand times than live to think of her in their -hands." - -The few minutes the men were absent passed thus as if in a dream; but -at length Antonio re-appeared, bringing a man with him pressed tightly -by the arm. It was a peasant of the middle age, who seemed somewhat -unwilling to come where he was led, and was evidently afraid; but, if -one might judge from the expression of his face, the dull, heavy look -of despair, there was sorrow mingled with his fear. - -"You need not hold me so hard, signor," he said, in the rich but -somewhat rough Tuscan tongue; "I will come. I only ran from you -because I thought you were a party of the band." - -"Here!" cried Lorenzo, springing up to meet them; "tell me who has -done this. What of the ladies who were here? Where are they? What has -become of them? Speak, man, quick! I am half mad." - -"Oh, signor, if you had seen your daughter carried away by ruffians -you might be whole mad," answered the peasant, and his eyes gushed -forth with tears. - -"I am sorry for you from my heart," replied Lorenzo, in an altered -tone; "yet, my good friend, give me any information in your power. My -bride may be where your daughter is, and if so I will pursue them." - -The man gave a hopeless, nay, almost a contemptuous look at the -handful of men which followed the young lord. - -"Never mind," said Lorenzo, well understanding what he meant; "only -tell me what you know, and leave the rest to me." - -"All I know is very little, signor," replied the man. "A little before -daybreak, when it was just grey, I heard a great many horses go by my -house yonder, coming this way, and, thinking it strange, I got up and -looked after them. I then saw it was a great band of armed men. My -heart misgave me, for my poor Judita was up here helping the people at -the villa. As fast as I could I crept through the vines; but of course -they were a long way before me, and I found that the way to the villa -was guarded. I know not how long I stayed, for if it had been but a -minute it would have seemed an hour, but I saw after awhile a bright -light in the windows of that big old tower, and then the windows of -the great new hall were all in a blaze. Everything had been silent -till then--at least I could not hear anything where I lay hid by that -big stone, covered with the old uva Sant Angelica--but just when -the glare came in the windows, there were sounds made themselves -heard--cries, and shrieks, and such noises as make men's hair stand on -end. Then a whole party came hurrying out, with a fine, handsome man -at their head--and he was laughing, too--who said to the first of -those that followed, 'Put them on the horses and away. You are sure -that fire has taken everywhere.' What the other answered I do not -know, for just then I caught sight of the women they were dragging -out." - -"Who were they?" said Lorenzo, eagerly. "It must have been day by that -time. You must have seen their faces." - -"I saw no one but my daughter, signor," said the poor man, simply; and -after a pause, he added, "and she was soon out of sight for ever. Her -body will be in the Arno or the Mugnione to-morrow, and we shall be -childless." - -Lorenzo's head drooped, and for some moments he kept silence. There -was an intensity of grief in the poor parent's tone which awed even -his grief. - -"Could you distinguish any of these men," he asked at length, "so as -to know them again?" - -"I saw nothing very clearly," replied the other--"nothing but Judita; -only I know that one of the men called the other 'Monsignore.' He -looked to me more like a devil than a cardinal, and yet he was a -handsome man too." - -"My lord, you can see the band from here," said one of Lorenzo's -troop; they are taking the Pisa road. "They will fall in with our -outposts, if they do not mind." - -"Well, they must be followed, and, if possible, cut off," replied his -lord, who had now recovered some presence of mind. "If they take their -way toward Pisa we shall have them." - -"Your pardon, my lord," said Antonio, "but will it not be better to go -up to the monastery, and make inquiries there? Depend upon it, the -good fathers did not stand looking on at the burning of the villa -without marking all, if they did not do all they could. They had no -daughters in the villa, and saw more than this poor man, depend upon -it. Five minutes will take you thither. You can see one of the towers -up yonder, just above the tree-tops." - -"Well bethought," replied his lord; "we may, indeed, hear tidings -there. But we must not lose sight of the enemy. Parisot, ride on to -the verge of the rocks there. You can see them thence for ten miles, -at least, I should think. Keep good watch upon them. All the rest stay -here. I will be back speedily;" and, so saying, with Antonio for a -guide, he rode on. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - - -How much accident sometimes serves us--nay, how often our own follies -and indiscretions lead us to better results than our wisdom and -prudence could have attained! - -"Conduct is fate," "Knowledge is power," are the favourite doctrines -of those who believe they have conduct, or presume they have -knowledge. Carried to the infinite, both axioms are true, but in every -degree below the infinite they are false; and oh, how false with man! -Every abstract, indeed, is often found to be a practical falsehood. -The wisest and the best of men, from Socrates to Galileo, have, by the -purest conduct, won the worst of fates; and power, either to do good -or evil, slipped from the hands of Bacon just when he reached the acme -of his knowledge. It seems as if God himself were pleased to rebuke -continually the axioms of human vanity, and to show man that no -conduct can overrule his will--no knowledge approach even to the steps -of power. - -It was unfortunate for Lorenzo that he had imprudently left all his -men but Antonio below. There were two old monks sitting on the rocks -just before the great gates of the monastery, and talking with each -other earnestly. Both started and rose when they heard the sound of -horses' feet; but as the place where they stood commanded a full view -down the road, they could see at once that the party which approached -was not formidable in point of numbers. - -In troublous times men built their houses for defence as well as -shelter, and the monks had found it necessary to use even as much -precaution as their more mundane brethren. The monastery was well -walled, and the rocks on which it stood were fortifications in -themselves; but all the skill of the builder had been expended upon -the great gates, which were assailable from the road leading directly -to them. Two massy towers, however, one on either side, a portcullis -with its herse ready to fall on the heads of any enemies who -approached too near, a deep arch behind that, with loop-holes in the -dark, shadowy sides, and machicolations above, and then two heavy -iron-plated doors, gave sufficient defence against anything but -cannon, which were not likely to be dragged up those heights. - -One of the monks, as soon as he had satisfied himself of the number of -the approaching party, seated himself again on the rock; the other -retreated a few steps as if to re-enter the building, but stopped just -under the portcullis. - -"What seek you, my son?" said the first, as Lorenzo rode up and drew -in his rein by his side. "We are in great trouble this morning, and -the prior, though unwilling to stint our vowed hospitality, has -commanded that no one be admitted." - -"I came to seek intelligence regarding those most dear to me, father," -replied Lorenzo; "there has been a terrible act committed at the Villa -Morelli down below." - -"Alas! alas!" said the old man, "a terrible act indeed." - -The monk at the gate had by this time drawn nearer, and was looking -steadfastly at Antonio. "Why, surely," he said, "I saw you at the -villa some weeks ago with the ladies Francesca and Leonora." - -"Assuredly," replied Antonio; "you came down seeking Brother Benevole, -and stayed for an hour to hear of what was doing at Naples. It is -those two ladies we are seeking. My young lord set out last night from -Pisa, and we have travelled all night, for the purpose of visiting the -Signora Leonora and Madonna Francesca, and when we arrive we find -nothing but ruin and destruction." - -"Alas! alas!" said the old monk who was seated on the rock, fixing a -very keen, and Lorenzo thought a very meaning, look upon the other -friar; "alas! alas! it is very terrible." - -"But can you give me any information respecting these ladies, good -fathers?" asked the young lord, somewhat impetuously. "If you knew how -closely I am connected with them, you would comprehend what I would -give for even the slightest information regarding them." - -"Alas! we can give you none, my son," answered the old man; "can we, -Brother Thomas? In the grey of the morning we were disturbed by the -coming of that fiend in the shape of a man, and some of us ran out -when they heard the cries and saw the flames, but the prior recalled -us all by the bell, and made us shut the gates and keep quite close -within till the man and his company was gone." - -"Of whom are you speaking, father?" asked Lorenzo, abruptly. "Whom do -you call 'the man' and 'that fiend'?" - -"Do you not know?" exclaimed the monk. "I mean that demon, enemy of -God and man, calling himself Cæsar, Cardinal of Borgia." - -"He shall answer me for this, if it be in the Vatican!" said Lorenzo, -setting his teeth hard. "Come, Antonio, I must follow these men, and -may chance to bring those upon them who will take a bloody vengeance." - -"Stay a moment, my lord," whispered Antonio; "there is more to be got -here--there is some news, and it may be good news, lying hid -somewhere. If they saw nothing but what the good monk says, how does -he know it was Don Cæsar? Let me deal with him. Good Father -Sylvester," he continued aloud---- - -"That is not my name, my son," said the monk upon the rock. "I am -called Fra Nicolo, though sometimes men call me Fra Discreto." - -"Well, good Father Nicolo, then," said Antonio, "my young lord here, -Signor Lorenzo Visconti, Knight, proposes to pursue yonder company of -wicked men and bring upon them the whole power of the King of France, -whose cousin he is." - -"He will do a good deed," said the old monk, drily. - -"But, good father, he cannot do so," said Antonio, "without food for -his horses and men, and drink also. Now I will crave Fra Tomaso here -to go into the prior, and tell him of our case. Ask him to speak with -my young lord in person, for he has a dozen or two of men below, and -as many horses, but he did not choose to approach your peaceful gates -with such a force." - -"Brother Thomas can do as he pleases," said the old monk, "but I don't -think the prior can feed so many, especially the horses; so there is -not much use of his going." - -Fra Tomaso, however, thought differently, for he immediately turned to -go into the convent; and Antonio, who had dismounted a moment or two -before, went with him as far as the inner gate, whispering eagerly in -his ear all the time. Lorenzo did not perceive that the friar answered -anything, but Antonio's face was much more cheerful when he returned -than it had been after witnessing the ruin of the Villa Morelli. - -The old monk who remained did not appear to have any great benevolence -in his nature, or it was not excited by Lorenzo and his servant. "It -is useless," he said--"all useless. There is the prior's mule: that is -all we have." - -"Oh, we and our horses are soon satisfied," said Antonio, in his usual -tone. "We only want a little hay and water for ourselves and a little -white bread and wine for our horses." - -"I think you are mocking me, my son," said the monk, with a very -cloudy brow. "I do not bear mocking well." - -"And yet your Heavenly Master was both mocked and scourged," said -Antonio, "and he uttered not a word." - -How far the dispute might have gone between Antonio and Fra -Discreto or Nicolo, had it remained uninterrupted much longer, it is -difficult to say, for the worthy monk was evidently waxing irate; but -at that moment came, almost running forth from the gates, a portly, -jovial-looking friar of some fifty-five or sixty years of age, who -took Antonio in his arms, and gave him a mighty hug. "Welcome! -welcome, my son!" cried Fra Benevole, for he it was; "thrice welcome -at this moment, when we need better comfort than wine can give -us--though, Heaven bless the Pulciano, it was the only thing that did -me good at first. Now this is your young lord, I warrant, of whom you -told me so much, and whom the signorina loves so well." - -The very reference to Leonora's name brought down upon the jovial monk -a whole host of questions, but he gave a suspicious look to the old -man, who still continued to oppress the rock, and he likewise -professed inability to answer. But there was something in his manner -which renewed hope in the bosom of Lorenzo, though it did not remove -apprehension. He had spoken of Leonora in the present tense too, not -in the past, and that was something. - -"But come to my cell," he cried; "come and rest, and have some light -refreshment; for though I must touch nothing myself, for these three -hours, I can always cater for my friends." - -His face was turned toward Lorenzo as he spoke, as if the invitation -was principally directed toward him, and the young nobleman answered, -"I am afraid, good father, I must await the return of Fra Tomaso, who -has gone to bear a message to the prior." - -"Oh, Brother Thomas will know where to find you," replied Benevole. -"It was he who told me of your arrival and sent me to you. He will be -sure to seek you first in my cell." - -But the monk's hospitable intentions were frustrated by the appearance -of Tomaso himself, followed by no less dignified a person than the -prior himself, a nobleman by birth and a churchman of fair reputation. -Lorenzo dismounted to meet him, and their greetings were courteous, if -not warm. - -"I will beg you, my lord," the prior said, "to repose in my apartments -for a time, while your horses and men are cared for by the monastery. -All attention shall be paid to their wants and comfort, and if you -will explain to Brother Benevole where they are exactly, he will have -them brought up to the strangers' lodging." - -"They are down by the ruins of the villa," said Lorenzo, "and one man -must remain there to watch that brutal band, for, God willing, they -shall not escape punishment. But I beseech you, reverend father, give -my mind some ease as to the fate----" - -The prior bowed his head with graceful dignity, saying, "Of that -presently, my son; let us always trust in God. As to your sentinel, -neither he nor any need remain. We have a watchman in the campanile of -the church. He can see farther than any one below, and will mark -everything at least as well. I lead the way." - -Lorenzo followed, leaving Antonio with his friend Benevole and the -horses, and the prior conducted him through a wide court, past the -church, and through the cloister-court to a suite of apartments which -spoke more the habits of a somewhat luxurious literary man than a -severe ecclesiastic. - -"These are, by right," said the prior, "the apartments of the abbot; -but an election, as it is called, has not been held for some years, -and may not, perhaps, till a new pope blesses the Church. Pray be -seated, my lord. I see you are impatient," he added, closing the door, -and looking round to assure himself that what he said could not be -overheard. "Set your mind at rest. She for whom I know you feel the -deepest interest has not been injured." - -"But is she free? Have not those men carried her off, as they did -others?" exclaimed Lorenzo, in as much impatience as ever. - -"She is safe--she is in no danger," replied the prior; "let that -suffice you for the present. If you proposed to follow those daring, -wicked men to rescue her from their hands, the attempt would have been -madness and without object, for she is not with them." - -"Let me be sure that we speak of the same person," said Lorenzo, still -unsatisfied. - -"Of the Signorina Leonora d'Orco," replied the monk. - -"Thank God! oh, thank God!" exclaimed Lorenzo, with a deep sigh. "And -Mona Francesca?" he asked, after a pause; "you have said nothing of -her fate, reverend father." - -"Alas! my son," replied the prior, "her fate has been perhaps less -happy, perhaps more so than that of her younger and fairer companion. -It will be as God's grace is granted to her. Let us speak no more of -this. Have you anything else to ask?" - -"Simply this," replied Lorenzo; "you are doubtless aware, father, as -you seem to have full knowledge of my relations with the Signora -d'Orco, that she is my promised wife, with the full consent of her -father and the blessing of the good Cardinal Julian de Rovera. It is -absolutely necessary that I should see her, and see her speedily, as I -am obliged to rejoin his Majesty of France at an early hour -to-morrow." - -"I fear, my son, that is not possible," said the prior; but the door -opened to admit some of the _servitory_ of the monastery bearing more -than one kind of food and wine, and the good monk stopped suddenly in -his reply. As soon as the refreshments had been spread on a small -stone table, and the room was again clear, he pressed Lorenzo to take -some meat and wine, saying, "I can speak to you while you eat, my -son." - -Lorenzo seated himself at the table, and, before he ate anything, -filled the large silver goblet with wine, and drank it off. The mind -was more depressed by anxiety than the body by fatigue. The monk -watched him; for, removed as he was from much active participation in -the world's affairs, he had long been a spectator of the great tragedy -of human life, and comprehended at once, by slight indications, what -was passing in the shadow of the bosoms around him. - -"I fear it is impossible, my son," he said, "that you should see the -lady so speedily as you wish. I can communicate with her, it is true, -and can procure for you, under her own hand, assurance which you -cannot doubt, that she is, as I have told you, safe and well; but more -I cannot promise." - -"Father, I do not doubt you," said Lorenzo, ceasing from his meal -before more than one mouthful had been tasted. "You would not deceive -me, I am sure; but you cannot tell what I feel--you cannot comprehend -what I endure, and shall endure till I see her again--till I can clasp -her to my heart, and, after she has escaped such a peril, thank God, -with her, for her preservation. In your blessed exemption from the -passions as well as the cares of secular life, you cannot even imagine -the eager, the burning desire I feel to see her, to touch her hand, to -assure myself by every sense that she is safe--that she is mine. Could -you conceive it, you would find or force a way to bring me to her -presence ere I depart for France." - -"My son, you are mistaken," said the prior, in a tone of solemn, even -melancholy earnestness. "I can conceive the whole. God help us, poor -sinful mortals that we are. When we renounce the world we renounce its -indulgences; but can we, do we, renounce its passions? How many a -heart beneath the cowl--ay, beneath the mitre--thrills with all the -warmest impulses of man's nature! How many--how terrible are the -struggles, not to subdue the unsubduable passions, but to curb and -regulate them; to bring them into subjection to an ever-present sense -of duty; to chasten, not to kill the most fiery portion of our -immortal essence! My son, you are mistaken; I can conceive your -feelings--nay, I can feel with you and for you. God forbid that, as -some do, I should say these impulses, these sentiments, these -sensations are unconquerable, and therefore must be indulged. On -such principles let the Borgias act. But I say that we--even we -churchmen--must tolerate their existence in our hearts while we -refrain from their indulgence, and that thereby we retain that -sympathy with our fellow-mortals which best enables us to counsel them -aright under all temptations. I will do my best for you, and, if it be -possible, you shall see your Leonora for a time. When must you go -hence?" - -"I should set out by sun-down, father," replied Lorenzo; "the King of -France must make a hasty march. Would to Heaven indeed it had been -hastier, for the news we have is bad." - -"Can you not remain behind?" said the monk; "you are an Italian, and -not his subject, and it might serve many an excellent purpose if you -could tarry here even for a few days." - -"It cannot be, father," answered the young man; "were I to follow my -own will, I would remain for ever by Leonora's side, but I am bound to -King Charles by every tie of gratitude and honour. Those, indeed, I -fear me, I might break in any common circumstance, and trust the king -would pardon me upon the excuse of love; but, father, this is a moment -when I dare not, for my honour, be absent from his force. There are -dangers before and all around him. A battle must be fought ere we can -cut our way to France. His army is small enough, and even one weak -hand may turn the chance for or against him. I had hoped indeed, and I -will own it frankly, that my beloved girl, with her father's full -sanction to our union, which she has, would have consented to be mine -by a hasty marriage, and go with me to France; but, alas! I fear----" - -"My son, my son," exclaimed the monk, in a reproachful tone, "you -would not surely dream of taking her into such scenes of danger as you -speak of: nay, that is selfish." - -"Is she not in greater danger here in Tuscany?" asked Lorenzo. - -"She is in none, I trust," replied the prior. "It was imprudent, -beyond doubt, to come in such times as these to a defenceless villa; -but in Florence she will be safe as any one can be where wrong and -rapine rage as here in Italy. But what you wish is quite impossible. -If you have duties that must take you hence, she has duties also that -must bind her here. I will keep my promise with you; but you must give -up vain wishes and purposes that cannot be executed. She herself will -tell you that it is impossible. Stay a moment; I must ask some -questions." - -The prior rose and left the room. He did not close the door behind -him, and Lorenzo heard him give orders to some one without to go up to -the belfry and ascertain if anything could still be seen of the party -who had burned the villa. That done, he rejoined his young guest, but -did not renew the conversation, merely pressing him to eat. In a few -moments, a good fat monk rolled into the room, and announced that the -party of the Borgias were still in sight. - -"They have halted, and seem regaling themselves in the gardens of the -Villa Morone," he said; "but I see--at least I think I see, and so -does Brother Luigi--that there are movements taking place about the -gates of the city, and if they stay much longer the Signoria will most -likely send out troops to drive them hence." - -"Let them be watched well, good father, I beseech you," exclaimed -Lorenzo; "for if the Florentine troops come forth to attack them, I -will go down to help." - -"What an appetite have some men for fighting!" said the prior, making -the monk a sign to depart; "but, my son, you will be better here. -Though our gates and walls may set them at defiance, I do believe, yet -to know that we have some men whose trade is war within might save us -from attack. Now, my son, will you sit here and read, or go with me to -our church and hear high mass? The latter I would counsel, if your -mind be in a fitting state; if not, I never wish any one to attend the -offices of religion with wandering thoughts and inattentive ears." - -"I will go with you, father," said the young knight. "I have much to -be thankful for although some hopes may be disappointed; and my -thoughts, I trust, will not wander from my God when I have most cause -to praise Him for sparing to me still the most valuable of all the -blessings he has given me. But is it really the hour for high mass? -How the time flies from us!" - -"It wants but a few minutes," said the prior. "Time does fly quickly -to all and every one; but it is only towards the close of life we -really feel how quickly it has flown. Then--then, my son, we know the -value of the treasures we have cast away neglected. Come, I will show -you the way. At the church door I must leave you, and perhaps may not -see you again for several hours; but you can find your way back here -and read or think, if the curiosity of our good brethren be too great -for your patience." - -"But you promised," said Lorenzo, eagerly, "that I should see the -Signora Leonora for a time." - -"If it be possible," replied the monk; "such was the tenor of my -promise, and it shall not be forgotten. I think it will be possible," -he added, seeing a shade of disappointment, or, rather, of anxiety, -upon Lorenzo's brow; "but the continued presence of those bad men in -the valley scares away from us those we most need at the present -moment." - -He explained himself no further, but led the way onward to the church. - -It cannot perhaps be said that the attention of the young nobleman was -not sometimes diverted from the office in which he came to take part; -but there was a soothing influence in the music, and a still more -comforting balm in the very act of prayer. They who reject religion -little know the strength and the consolation, the vigour and the -assurance which is derived even from the acknowledgment of our -dependence upon a Being whom we know to be all-powerful and -all-good--how we can dare all, and endure all, and feel comfort in all -when we raise our hearts in faith to him who can do all for us. How -often in the course of each man's life has he to say--and oh! with -what different feelings and in what different circumstances is it -said--"Help, Lord, I sink!" Nor is it ever said without some -consolation; nor is it ever asked but it is granted--ay, some help is -granted, either in strength, or in resolution, or in patience, or in -deliverance. The fearful exclamation might show some want of faith in -him who had been eye-witness to a thousand miracles, but with us it -shows some faith also. We call upon whom we know to be able to help, -and in the hour of adversity or the moment of peril we remember the -Lord our God, and put our last, best trust in Him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - - -Lorenzo had mounted the many steps leading to the top of the belfry of -the church, and there, with the old monk who was keeping watch, he -gazed over the beautiful valley of the Arno. High--high up in the air -he stood, far above the rocks and treetops, with the whole country -round, as it were, mapped out before him. The sun was rapidly nearing -the horizon, and there was that undefinable transparent purple in the -atmosphere which in Italy precedes, for nearly an hour, the shades of -night; but yet all was still clear and bright, and the various objects -in the landscape could be distinguished perhaps more sharply than in -the full light of day. - -"There they go," said the old monk who was on watch, pointing with his -hand in the direction of the mountains. "They have a good guess that -the people of Florence would not have them here much longer, and so -they are taking themselves away." - -Lorenzo turned his eye in the direction to which the monk pointed, and -saw, winding along the mountain road to San Miniato, a long troop of -horse, evidently the same which had been ranging the Valley of the -Arno. He watched them over the several undulations of ground, now -disappearing, now rising again into sight, till at length the foremost -horseman reached the gap over the farthest hill in view, and one by -one they passed out of the range of vision, except a small party which -lingered for a moment or two on the side of the hill, as if taking a -survey of the country they were leaving, and then, following their -companions, disappeared. - -"I must go down and tell the prior," said the monk; "but I may as well -ring the bell as I go, to let the people of the country know they are -gone." - -Thus saying, he began to descend; but Lorenzo lingered still a few -minutes on the top of the tower, while the great bell below him tolled -out in quick, and, to his ear, joyful tones, the announcement to the -whole country round that the brutal marauders had departed. Hardly had -three or four strokes been given upon the bell when Lorenzo could -perceive a number of women issuing from the various peasants' houses -in sight, and taking their way by narrow mountain paths towards the -monastery or the villa. - -He followed the monk down, however, without much delay, and at the -base of the belfry found the old man talking with the prior between -the church and the tower. - -"Come with me, my son," said the prior; "I can now keep my promise -with you;" and he led him on through the close around the church, -through the cloisters, and through a long, dimly-lighted passage, -which opened by a key at the prior's girdle, and the next moment -Lorenzo found himself in a small octagonal room, the arched ceiling of -which was supported by a light column in the centre. It seemed well -and tastefully furnished, and on one of the sides was a little recess, -where hung a crucifix and a vessel of holy water. - -"Wait here, my son, a few minutes," said the monk; "as soon as the -women come up from below, the signora will join you. She can remain -with you till the hour you have named for your departure. Be wise, be -good, and may God bless you and reunite you soon." - -The light in the room was very dim, for the windows consisted only of -those light plates of marble which have been mentioned before; and the -prior, turning before he departed, added, "I will bid her bring a -lamp, otherwise you will soon be in darkness." - -He went not out by the same door through which he had entered, and -Lorenzo could hear for some moments the fall of his sandal upon the -pavement, as if he were walking through a long and vaulted passage. -The sound ceased, and the young man's heart beat high with hope and -expectation; but still many a minute elapsed--and to him they seemed -long minutes indeed--before any sound again met his ear. Then there -was a slight rustle, with a quick, light footstep, and through the -chink of the door, which the prior had left ajar, came a ray of light -as from a lamp. - -But poor Lorenzo was to be again disappointed. True, the door opened, -and a female form appeared bearing a light; but it was that of a -country girl, who, setting down the lamp on the table, looked up in -Lorenzo's face with a frank good-humoured smile, saying: - -"The signora will be here as soon as I get back to attend on Mona -Francesca." - -Thus saying, she tripped away, and in a few moments more, a sound not -to be mistaken met Lorenzo's ear, the well known fall of Leonora's -foot, which had so often made his heart thrill in the halls of the -Villa Rovera. - -He could not wait till she had reached the room, but ran along the -passage to meet her, and then she was in his arms, and then their lips -were pressed together in all the warmth of young and passionate love, -and then her face was hid upon his bosom, and the tears poured forth -abundantly; and then he kissed them away, and, with his arm cast round -her, and her hand in his, he led her into the room to which the prior -had conducted him. - -Let us pass over some five or ten minutes, for all was now a tumult -and confusion of sensations, and words, and caresses, which it would -be difficult to distinguish, and which had meaning only for those who -felt and heard them. - -At length, when some degree of calmness was restored, the quick and -eager explanations followed. Leonora told him how the news of the -king's arrival at Pisa had been brought two days before by the -peasantry, and how she had waited, and watched, and could not sleep, -and rose while day was yet infirm and pale, in order not to lose one -moment of his beloved company. Then she told him that on the morning -of that eventful day she had left her bed early, and was hardly -dressed when the sound of horses' feet on the road had made her start -to the window in the joyful hope that they had come at length. She saw -strange arms and strange faces by the pale light of morning, but still -she fancied they were French corps which she did not know; and, -imagining that he must have dismounted and entered before his -companions, she ran along the broad corridor to meet him. To her -surprise and terror, however, she saw a stranger gorgeously habited -and followed by two men in arms, and turning suddenly back, she fled -towards her own apartments. She heard her own name called aloud, she -said, and a sweet and musical voice bidding her stop; but, as if it -were by instinct, she continued her flight. Then came a fierce oath, -and an angry command to follow and bring her back. - -"In Heaven's name, how did you escape, my beloved?" exclaimed Lorenzo, -pressing her closely to him. - -"Most happily," replied Leonora; "Mona Francesca--it was but -yesterday--had made a great exertion for her, and shown me all the -apartments of the villa, the passages, the corridors, and even the -private way, which her husband constructed before his death, from the -old part of the villa to the monastery above. He was a very pious man, -she said, and often ascended by that passage to pray alone in the -church. I know not why, but I had remarked the passage particularly -and the secret door that led to it; and, without any reason that I -know of, I had opened and shut the door several times, as if to make -myself completely mistress of the means. It would almost seem that I -had a presentiment that my safety might depend upon it; and yet I do -not remember any such feeling at the time. Now, however, when I heard -the footsteps of the three men following me fast, I darted past my own -room, and, winged with fear, fled through the corridors toward the -apartments of Mona Francesca; but I heard voices and loud words in -that direction, and, turning sharply to the right through the old -stone hall, I came suddenly on the secret door, and had opened, passed -in, and closed it before I well knew what I was doing. I stopped as -soon as I had entered the passage, and leaned against the wall for -support, for I was terrified and out of breath with the rapidity of my -flight. Every moment I expected to hear them at the door, and, though -it was well concealed in the masonry, feared they might discover it -and break in. I suppose that my quickness in threading passages which -they did not know had puzzled them, for I heard no steps approach the -door while I stood there. But other and terrible sounds met my ear. I -heard the shrieks of women. Oh! dear Lorenzo, I heard the voice of my -own poor girl Judita crying for mercy; and I fled onward to the -monastery; hoping that the good monks might be able to give that help -which I could not give. I know not well how I came hither, but it was -through long passages, and up many flights of steps, and at last I -found myself in the church. Nor can I well describe to you all that -followed, for my brain seemed confused and stupified with terror. The -prior, and, indeed, all the monks, were very kind to me; but when I -besought them to go down and help the poor people in the villa, they -shook their heads sadly, and pointed to the red light that was rising -up over the tree-tops. The prior, however, brought me along these -passages to a room beyond--it is in one of the towers upon the walls, -I believe--and, leaving me there told me I should be safe, and that he -would go to see what could be done for my poor kinswoman. Oh, Lorenzo, -what a terrible half hour I passed there; and, at length, sorrow was -added to fear, for they bore in upon a pallet poor Mona Francesca, -living, it is true, and, I trust, likely to live, but dreadfully -burned; her neck, her face, her hands, all scorched and swollen, to -that you would not know her. She is suffering agony, and the livelong -day I have sat bathing her with water from the cool well. I have had -none to help me till a few minutes ago, for the peasant girls, it -seems, have been afraid to come up as long as these terrible men were -in sight. At length, however, the girl you saw just now arrived, and -then the prior told me you were here, but must depart tonight. Oh, -Lorenzo, is it so? and will you leave me again so soon?" - -Lorenzo's tale had now to be related, and he told her all--the bond of -honour which he felt himself under to accompany the King of France, -and the hopes--the wild, delusive hopes--with which he had come -thither. Leonora listened sadly, and for a few moments after he had -done speaking she sat silent, with the tears glittering in her eyes, -but not overrunning the long black lashes. - -"You must go, Lorenzo," she said at length--"you must go. God forbid -that I should keep you when honour and duty call you hence, though my -selfish heart would say, 'Stay.' Oh that you had been a day earlier! -Then all this day's terrible agonies might have been spared us, and -even the pain of parting which is before us. Willingly--willingly, my -Lorenzo, would I have been your bride at an hour's notice, and I do -believe that poor Francesca would have gone with us. But now, oh -Lorenzo! you cannot ask me to leave her. I know you will not. If you -could see the agony she is suffering, you would not have the heart to -do it." - -Lorenzo was silent, for the struggle in his bosom was terrible. She -spoke in such a tone that he thought he might still prevail if he had -but the hardness to press her urgently, and yet he felt that he should -esteem, if not love, her less if she yielded. He remained silent, for -he could not speak; but at length her sweet voice decided him. -"Lorenzo, strengthen me," she said; "I am very weak. Tell me--tell me -that it is my duty to remain--that not even love can justify such a -cruel, such an ungrateful act; and, as I tell you to go because honour -calls you away, oh bid me to stay because it is right to do so." - -He pressed her to his heart more fondly than ever; he covered her -brow, her cheeks, her lips, with kisses; he held her hand in his as if -he never could part with it, and but few more words were spoken till -the prior came to tell him his horses were prepared and his men -mounted. Then came the terrible parting. - -"Father," he said, "I leave her to your care. Oh! you can not tell -what a precious charge it is! In a few weeks I will return to claim -her as my own. Oh! watch over her till then. My brain seems disordered -with the very thought of the dangers that surround her in these days -of violence and wrong." - -"Be calm, my son--be calm," said the prior. "Trust in a holier and -more powerful protector. He has saved her this day; He can save her -still. As for me, I will do all that weak man can do. But the first -thing is to remove her, as soon as may be, to the city. Even such holy -walls as these are no safeguard from the violence of man in these -days; but in the city she will be secure. And now, my son, come. Do -you not see how terribly a lingering parting agitates her? Do not -protract it, but come away at once, and then rejoin her again, as soon -as it is possible, to part no more." - -Both felt that what he said was just, and yet one long, last, -lingering embrace, and then it was over. All seemed darkness to the -eyes of Leonora d'Orco as she sat there alone. All seemed darkness to -Lorenzo Visconti as he rode away. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - - -This is a cold age of a cold world. Not more than one man or woman, in -many, many thousands can sympathise with--nay, can conceive the warm, -the ardent love which existed between the two young hearts new -separated. But it must be remembered that theirs was an age and a land -of passion; and where that passion did not lead to vice and crime, it -obtained sublimity by its very intensity. - -It may be asked if such feelings were not likely to be evanescent--if -time, and absence, and new objects, and a change of age would not -diminish, if not extinguish the love of youth. Oh, no! Both were of -firm and determined natures; both clung long and steadily to -impressions once received; and yet, when they next met, how changed -were both! - -They were destined to be separated far longer than they anticipated, -and to show what was the reason and nature of the change they -underwent, it would be necessary to follow briefly the course of each -till the youth had become a man and the young girl a blossoming woman. - -When Lorenzo reached Pisa with his little band, he found the army of -the King of France about to march; indeed, the vanguard had already -gone forward. In the retreat, however, the corps of men-at-arms to -which he was attached brought up the rear, and thus he was spared the -horror of seeing the butchery committed by the Swiss infantry at -Pontremoli. - -Riding slowly on by the side of his commander and friend, De Vitry, he -conversed with him from time to time, but with thoughts far away and -an insurmountable sadness of spirits. Indeed, the elder was full of -light and buoyant gaiety; the younger was cold and stern. The cause -was very plain; the one was leaving her whom he loved, the other -approaching nearer every day to the dwelling of Blanche Marie. Many a -danger and difficulty, however, hung upon the path before them. Hourly -news arrived of gathering troops and marching forces, of passages -occupied, and ambuscades; and at length, in descending from the -Apennines towards the banks of the Taro, near its head, the scouts -brought in intelligence that the allied forces were encamped at Badia, -determined to oppose the passage of the river. It soon became evident -that a battle must be fought somewhere between the small town of -Fornovo and Badia, and the great numerical superiority of the -confederate army rendered the chances rather desperate for France. -With the light-hearted courage of the French soldier, however, both -men and officers prepared for the coming event as gaily as for a -pageant, but the lay and clerical counsellors of the king saw all the -dangers, and lost heart. Again they had recourse to negotiation, and -the confederate princes, with cunning policy, seemed willing for a -time to sell, for certain considerations, a passage towards Lombardy -to the King of France. They knew that Fornovo, where he was encamped, -could only afford a few days' supply of provisions, and there is every -reason to believe that they hoped, by delaying decision from day to -day, to starve the royal army into a surrender. The king's counsellors -might perhaps have been deceived; but his generals saw through the -artifice, and it was determined at length to force the passage of the -Taro. - -I need not enter into all the details of the battle of Fornovo, the -only one at which the young King of France was ever present, but it is -well known that if in the engagement he did not show all the qualities -of a great commander, he displayed all the gallantry of his nature and -his race. By sheer force of daring courage and indomitable resolution -the passage was forced, and not by skill or stratagem. More than once -the king's life or liberty was in imminent danger; and once he was -saved by the boldness of a common foot-soldier, once rescued out of -the very hands of the enemy, by Lorenzo Visconti. It may easily be -believed that the affection which existed between the young king and -his gallant cousin was increased by the service rendered, and to the -hour of Charles's death Lorenzo received continued marks of his -regard, though some of them, indeed, proved baleful to the young man's -peace. - -The victory at Fornovo proved only so far beneficial to the King of -France as to enable him to negotiate with his adversaries from a -higher ground. Slowly he advanced toward Milan, in order to deliver -the Duke of Orleans, who, in bringing reinforcements to the monarch's -aid, had been drawn into Novara and besieged by the superior forces of -Ludovic the Moor. The position of both armies was dangerous. That of -the king was lamentably reduced in numbers, and little was to be hoped -from the French garrison in Novara, which was enfeebled by famine and -sickness. - -The army of the Duke of Milan, on the other hand, had much diminished -since he commenced the siege, and his ancient enemies, the Venetians, -were daily gaining a preponderance in Italy, which he saw would be -perilous to his authority. The usual resource of negotiation followed. -Peace was re-established between Charles and Ludovic Sforza. Novara -was surrendered to the latter, but the Duke of Orleans was suffered to -march out with all the honours of war, yielding up the city in -conformity with the terms of a treaty of peace, and not of a -capitulation wrung from him by force of arms. - -The king paused for a short time in Lombardy; festivities and -rejoicings succeeded to the din of war; large reinforcements from -France swelled his army to more than its original numbers, and for -some time the idea was entertained at the court that Naples would be -again immediately invaded, and its conquest rendered more complete. -But hour by hour, and day by day, came intelligence from that kingdom -more and more disastrous for the cause of France. A fleet of French -galleys suffered a disastrous defeat; the people of Naples rose -against the small French force remaining in the city, and drove them -into the two citadels; town after town returned to the allegiance of -the House of Arragon; and the very day after the Battle of Fornovo the -young King Ferdinand re-entered in triumph his ancient capital. - -These events might well cause a change of purpose at the court of -France; the work of reducing the kingdom of Naples was all to be done -over again; and it was impossible for even the most oily flatterers of -the king to conceal the fact that the attempt would be attended by -difficulties which had not been experienced in the previous -expedition. In fact, the people of Naples had learned what it was to -submit to the yoke of France; all their vain expectations had been -disappointed; they had found the burden intolerable; they had cast it -off, and were resolved to die rather than receive it again. - -In the meantime, however, from the aspect of the court and camp of -France, no one could have supposed that it was a time of disaster and -distress; all was gaiety, merriment, and lighthearted irregularity; -and friendships and loves, which had been formed the preceding year, -were now renewed as if neither coldness nor hostilities had -intervened. - -In the midst of all these events a small party left the camp of the -King of France and took its way toward the city of Pavia. They went -lightly armed, as if upon some expedition of pleasure, and, indeed, -the country for fifty miles on the other side of the Po was quite safe -and free from all adverse forces; but beneath the Apennines on either -side lay the armies of the confederates, blockading every pass, and -cutting off communication between Northern and Southern Italy, except -by sea. Thus, with no offensive and but little defensive armour, the -party rode securely on till they reached the gates of the Villa -Rovera, where the two first horsemen dismounted and entered the -gardens. - -The aspect of all things about the villa was greatly changed since -Lorenzo and De Vitry had been there before. There was a stillness, a -gloomy quietness about the place which somewhat alarmed them both. In -the great hall was seated but one servant, and when they inquired of -him for the old count and the young lady, he answered, - -"Alas! my lords, you do not know that his excellency is at the point -of death." - -Such was the state of affairs when Lorenzo and his friend reached the -dwelling of Blanche Marie, and what resulted from it must be told -hereafter. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - - -In change lies all our joy; in change lies all our pain. Change is the -true Janus whose two faces are always looking different ways. I know -not whether it may please the reader, but I must change the place and -the time, and change it so suddenly and so far as to pass over for a -time, events not only interesting in themselves, but affecting deeply -the fate of those who have formed the principal objects of my history. -Yet it must be so, for there are inexorable laws established by judges -against whom is no appealing, which limit the teller of a tale to a -certain space; and were I to relate in detail all the events which -occupied the two years succeeding the events last mentioned in this -book, I should far transgress the regulations of the craft, and -perhaps exhaust the patience of my readers. Those events, therefore, -must be gathered from others which followed, and, indeed, perhaps this -is the best, as it certainly is the shortest way of giving them to the -public. - -There is a fine old chateau in the south of France, two towers of -which are still standing, and hardly injured by the tooth of time. I -have a picture of it before me by the hand of one who, born in lofty -station and of surpassing excellence, was, as a beacon at a port of -refuge, raised high to direct aright all who approached her, who lived -not only honoured, but beloved, and has not left a nobler or a better -behind. Her eye can never see these lines; her ear can never hear -these words; but I would that this work were worthy to be a monument -more lasting than brass, to write on it an epitaph truer than any that -ever consoled the living or eulogised the dead. - -I have the picture before me, with two great towers standing on the -wooded hill, with vineyards at the foot, and many a ruined fragment -scattered round, showing where the happy and the gay once trod, and -commenting silently upon the universal doom. Oh! a ruin is the best -_memento mori_, for it tells not the fate of one, but of many -generations, and gives to death that universality which most impresses -the mind and most prepares the heart. - -Those buildings were all fresh, and many of them new at the time of -which I write. Not a century had passed since the first stone of the -whole edifice was laid; and sumptuously furnished, after the fashion -of those times, was the great suite of rooms occupying one floor of -both those great towers and of the connecting building, now fallen. - -In one of these rooms was a fine hall, lighted by windows of -many-coloured glass, with two oriels or bays penetrating the thick -walls and projecting into air, supported by light brackets and corbels -of stonework without. The floor of those bays was raised two or three -steps above the ordinary level of the hall, and each formed, as it -were, a separate room within the room. - -In one of those bays, just two years after the event which closed the -last chapter, sat a tall, powerful man of perhaps thirty-six years of -age, dressed in those gorgeous garments of peace which were common to -the higher classes in that day. His face was somewhat weather-beaten; -there was a scar upon his cheek and on his hand, and the short, -curling hair over the forehead had been somewhat worn away by the -pressure of the helmet. On the back of the head and on the temples it -flowed in unrestrained luxuriance, somewhat grey, indeed, but with the -deep brown predominating. - -At his knee, on a stool of Genoa velvet--it was her favourite -seat--was a beautiful girl, seemingly sixteen or seventeen years of -age, fair as a snow-drop, with light, flowing hair, and eyes of -violet-blue, deep fringed and tender. Her head rested against his -side, her arm lay negligently upon his knee, and those blue eyes were -turned towards his face with a look of love--nay, almost of adoration. - -They were De Vitry and Blanche Marie, some two months after their -marriage. Her good old grandsire, on his bed of death, had committed -her to the guardianship of the King of France, with the request that -in two years he would bestow her hand upon the gallant soldier, if she -loved him still. Nor had that love for a moment faltered, while, under -the care of fair Anne of Brittany, she had passed the allotted time at -the court of France; and now she was happy--oh! how supremely blessed -with him whose character, without shade or concealment, with all its -faults and all its perfections, had stood plain and straightforward -from the first. - -But why does De Vitry turn his eyes so often towards the window and -gaze forth upon the road, which, winding down from the castle, ploughs -its way through the thick vineyard, and, crossing the Isere by its -bridge of stone, ascends the opposite slopes? - -"Is he coming, love?" said Blanche Marie. "Do you see him, De Vitry? -yes, you do; there is the falcon look in your eyes. They are upon -something now." - -"How can I tell what it is at this distance, lady mine?" answered her -husband; "falcon, indeed, if I could see so far. There is a dark -something moving yonder on the far verge of the hills. It may be a -train of horsemen; it may be some country carts, for aught I know. -But, Madame Blanche," he added, casting his right arm round her, "by -my fay, I shall be jealous of this Lorenzo, if you are so eager for -his coming." - -"Out, false knight," she answered; "I defy you to be jealous of any -man on earth. To make you jealous, is alas! beyond my power, for like -a foolish girl, I have let you know too well how much I love you." - -She spoke gaily, but the moment after she said, in a saddened tone: - -"But poor Lorenzo! he is so unfortunate--so unhappy, De Vitry. I may -well wish for my cousin's coming when I know that only with you and me -he finds any consolation. And yet every time I see him I feel almost -self-reproach, as if I had a share in making him so miserable. I loved -her so; I believed her so good, so noble, so kind, that I foolishly -planned their marriage long before they ever met, and did all I could -to promote their love when they did meet; and now to think that she -should be so faithless, so cold, so cruel, when she knows he loves her -more than life." - -"It is indeed strange," said De Vitry with a clouded brow; "she seemed -to me as she seemed to you, one of the noblest girls I ever saw. She -is not married yet, however. That story is false. I saw a messenger -from Rome three days ago. He says she is living with her father, who -is now one of the vicars in the Church in Romagna, and she is -certainly unmarried." - -"That is but poor consolation for Lorenzo," replied Blanche Marie; "he -has too much pride, too much nobility of heart, to take her hand now, -were it offered him after such conduct." - -"I trust he has," said De Vitry; "and were I he, I would cast her from -my thoughts for ever. Beauty is something, my love, but there must be -goodness, too; otherwise one might as well fall in love with a -picture, my dear girl. But tell me, Blanche, when last she wrote to -you did she show any such signs of strange caprice?" - -"It is near eighteen months since she wrote at all," replied the young -wife, "and then her billet, it is true, was somewhat strange and -constrained, but it gave no indication of such a change. Oh, how happy -is it, De Vitry, to have a constant heart? How dreadful it must be to -see one we love change toward us without cause. It is that which makes -me pity Lorenzo so much, for it is plain he loves her still. - -"We must have that away," said her husband; "he must be reasoned with, -amused, engaged in some new pursuit, my Blanche. I will do my best, -and you must help me. Look there! upon my life 'tis he. Those are -mounted men coming down the hill; but they are bringing thunder with -them, and if they do not ride faster the storm will catch them ere -they reach us. Do you not see those clouds rising above the trees, -looking as hard as iron and as grey as lead. By my faith! dear lass, -you have never seen a storm in the valley of the Isere, and it is -something to see. I have been in many lands, my Blanche, but I never -beheld any like it, when the clouds rolled down from the mountains -like black smoke, pouring forth a deluge such as no other part of the -world has ever been soaked with since the days of Noah. In less than -half an hour you will see the valley a lake, and the bridge quite -covered. Your little heart will rejoice to think that the castle is -built upon a hill, for I never saw the water come higher than the edge -of the vineyard there." - -"Does it come as high as that?" exclaimed Blanche, with a look of -alarm; "why, how will Lorenzo cross!" - -"He will not be able to cross at all unless he make more haste," -answered her husband. "Pardieu, I cannot guess what has come to him; -he who, for the last eighteen months, has never ridden up hill or down -dale at less than a gallop, as if some devil were tempting him to -break his own neck or his horse's, is now creeping down the hill as if -he were at a funeral or a procession." - -By this time De Vitry had risen and gone near the open window. The sun -had near an hour to run before its course for the day would be ended. -The clouds, as he said, were rapidly and heavily descending the -mountains, and the rain could be seen at the distance of three or four -miles sweeping the valley like a black pall. The sun was still shining -bright and clear upon the chateau, and the bridge, and the vineyard. -But a moment after De Vitry had taken his place, a redder and a -fiercer light blazed fitfully across the scene, followed a few moments -after by a peal of thunder which seemed to shake the castle to its -foundations. - -"Oh, come away, De Vitry, come away," cried Blanche Marie; "the -lightning might strike you at that open window." - -De Vitry turned round his head with a laugh, calling her a little -coward, and then resumed his watch again upon the party of horsemen -coming down the opposite hill. - -"Ay, ride fast," cried the marquis, "or you will not be in time; but -what are all the people thinking of? they have lost their way." - -As he spoke the party on whom his eyes were fixed turned from the -direct road toward the chateau, and took a smaller path, which, -slanting along the hill side, led down the stream. - -"Lorenzo is not among them," said De Vitry, abruptly; "he knows the -way here as well as I do, my love; but that party of fools will get -into a scrape if they do not mind; there is no shelter for ten miles -down the river, and the road on the bank will be under water in ten -minutes. Ha! they have seen their mistake, and are turning back. Now -ride hard, my gallants, and you may reach the bridge yet." - -The lightning now flashed nearer, the thunder followed close upon its -flaming messenger, the heavy drops of rain began to fall, and poor -Blanche Marie, who had much more taste for the beauties than the -sublimities of nature, covered her face with her hands, while her -heart beat quick. The next moment she felt a warm and kindly kiss upon -her brow, and the voice of De Vitry said-- - -"Take courage, love, take courage; God is everywhere. In His hand we -stand, as much in that fierce blaze and amid that thunder roar, as in -the gay saloon with nothing but music near. Do not fear, my Blanche, -but remember you will soon have guests to entertain. These gentlemen -are coming hither. They have passed the bridge just in time, and five -minutes will see them in this hall. I would not have them say that De -Vitry's wife is afraid of a little thunder." - -Blanche took her fingers from her eyes, and, looking up with a smile, -put De Vitry's great strong hand on her beating heart, and pressed her -own delicate hand upon it. - -"See, De Vitry," she said, "just as your hand is stronger than my -hand, so is your heart firmer than my heart. Mine is a very weak one, -husband, but I will show no fear before your guests. I will be very -brave." - -The words were hardly uttered when there came another flash, and -Blanche's promised bravery did not prevent her from starting and -covering her eyes again; and De Vitry, with a laugh, turned to the -window and gazed forth once more. - -"By Heaven!" he exclaimed, "it is his highness the Duke of Orleans. I -heard he was coming down to Valence, but never dreamed of his coming -here. It is lucky the castle lies so near the road. But I must down -and meet him;" and he hastily quitted the room. - -Blanche was left for some time alone to give way to all her terrors at -the storm, without any one to laugh at them, for De Vitry took every -hospitable care of his royal guest, and spared his young wife the -trouble of giving those orders for the entertainment of the duke and -his train which Blanche might have found it difficult to think of in -the perturbation of her mind at the time. - -As every one knows, the storms on the Isere are frequently as brief as -they are fierce; and the one in question was passing away when De -Vitry led into the hall the Duke of Orleans, now clothed in fresh and -dry garments. - -Always courteous and gentle in demeanour, the Duke of Orleans, -afterwards Louis XII. of France, applied himself to put his -entertainers at their ease. He took Blanche's hand and kissed it, -saying, "Your noble husband, dear lady, tells me you expect here -to-night your cousin and mine, Lorenzo Visconti. If he come, I shall -call it a lucky storm that drove me for shelter to your house, as I -have much to say to him; but I fear he cannot reach Vitry to-day. The -sun is well-nigh down, and the waters of the river seem as high as -ever." - -"The storm, too, seems going directly along his road," said De Vitry, -"and if it reached him where I think he must have first felt it, he -will know that he cannot cross the bridge tonight, and find shelter -amongst the peasants' cottages out beyond the hills there. But I trust -your highness will stay over to-morrow, as you wish to see him. He is -certain to be here, I think, early in the morning." - -"I must be away before noon," said the duke, "and in case he should -not arrive before I go, you must tell him from me, De Vitry, that I -have the king's permission to call any noble gentleman to my aid who -is willing to draw the sword for the recovery of my heritage of Milan. -Now I think a Visconti would rather see a child of a Visconti in the -ducal chair of Milan than any other. Thus I fully count upon his aid -toward the end of autumn, with all the men that we can raise. So tell -him from me, De Vitry." - -"You may count surely, my lord the duke, upon Lorenzo's going to any -place where there is a chance of his losing his life," said De Vitry. -"He is in a curious mood just now." - -"I have remarked it," replied the duke. "He used to be gentle, -courteous, gay, bright, and brave as his sword, but when last I saw -him he had grown stern and somewhat haughty, careless of courtesies, -and curt and sharp of speech. They said that some disappointment -weighed upon his mind." - -"The most bitter, your highness, that can press down the heart of man -or woman," answered Blanche Marie; "no less than the faithlessness of -one he loved. She is my cousin, yet I cannot but blame her for -breaking so noble a heart. They parted with the fondest hopes. She -promised to wait his coming in Florence, where they were to be united -immediately. When he arrived there she was gone, without leaving -letter or message, or announcement of any kind. He could not follow -her to Rome, from the state of the country; and though he wrote, and -took every means to make her know where he was, his letters remained -unanswered, or were sent back. He might have doubted some foul play; -but a few words in her own hand, written carelessly on a scrap of -paper, in a packet returned to him, showed too well that she was -cognizant of all that had been done; and the last news was that she -was married, or to be married to another." - -"Then let him marry another too," said the Duke of Orleans; but the -conversation was here cut short by the announcement that supper was -spread in the hall below, and the duke's noble followers assembled -there. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - - -Lorenzo Visconti rode along but slenderly accompanied. A few -attendants and one or two pack-horses formed all the train which -followed him. A carelessness had come over him, not only of all -display, but of life and all things that life could give. He rode, as -De Vitry had described, at headlong speed. It seemed as if he were -flying from something--perhaps from bitterly contrasted memories; but, -as ever, black care sat behind the horseman, and no furious riding -could shake him off. His eyes were fixed upon the ground, but he saw -not loose stone or slippery rock, and never marked the heavy clouds -which, having ravaged the valley of the Isere, were now rising over -the hills upon his left, and threatening to pour down their fury upon -him. - -Grave and, for him, strangely sad, Antonio was following close behind -him, watching with eager anxiety the obstructions in his master's way, -and marking also the coming tempest. "My lord," he said, at length, -with a somewhat hesitating voice, "were it not better to seek some -shelter and to ride more slowly?" - -"Why?" asked Lorenzo; "the road is good." - -"Because, my lord," replied the man, "if we do not seek some shelter -we shall be half drowned in ten minutes, and if we ride so hard, -though you may go safe, we worse mounted men will break both our necks -and our horses' knees, as soon as the sun sets, which will be in a -quarter of an hour." - -Lorenzo drew in his rein; but the only word he spoke was "Well?" - -"We just passed a handsome chateau, my lord," urged Antonio, "and I am -sure they will give you ready welcome there, if you like to rest there -for the night." - -"Whose chateau is it?" inquired his lord, with no great signs of -interest. - -"Is it that of Madame de Chaumont?" replied Antonio. "Do you not -remember her and her beautiful daughter at the court last year? They -were very fond of your society, and will gladly receive you, I will -warrant." - -"Yes, she is very beautiful," said Lorenzo, carelessly, "but light as -vanity: what woman is not? But I cannot stay tonight, my good Antonio. -My cousin and her husband expect me, and I must on." - -"But you will never be able to pass the Isere, my lord," said Antonio; -"that cloud has left half its burden there, depend upon it. Do you not -remember how the river rises in an hour? I will wager a crown to a -coronet there is ten feet of water on the bridge by this time. But -here come the drops, and we shall have water and fire too enough -before we have done. I have a hideous cold, my lord, and cold bathing -is not good for me." - -Lorenzo turned towards him with a cynical smile; but, before he could -reply, there was a gay, ringing laugh came up from the gorge into -which they were just descending, and two ladies, followed by several -servants, some with falcons on their hands, some carrying dead game -across their saddles, came cantering up. They glanced towards Lorenzo -as they approached, and, at first did not seem to recognize him; but -the next moment the younger exclaimed, "Dear mother, it is the young -Seigneur Visconti. Give you good day, my lord--give you good day. We -cannot stay to greet you; but turn your horse and ride back with us, -for the roof of our chateau is a better covering for your head than -yonder black cloud. Mother, make him come." - -Lorenzo carelessly turned his horse as the gay and beautiful girl -spoke, and a few words of common courtesy passed between him and the -Marquis de Chaumont. But Eloise de Chaumont would have her part in the -conversation, and she exclaimed, "Come, Seigneur Visconti, put spurs -to your steed and show your horsemanship. I am going home at full -gallop, otherwise the plumes in my beaver will be as draggled as those -of the poor heron that my bird struck in the river. The haggard kite -would not wait for him to tower. On! on! I will bet you my last -embroidered hawking-glove against an old gauntlet that my jennet -reaches the castle first." Thus saying, she applied the whip somewhat -unmercifully to her horse, and Lorenzo put spurs to his. The race was -not very equal, for Lorenzo's hackney was tired with a long journey -and hard riding; but still the young knight kept up side by side with -his fair companion till they came to a narrow pass between a high -cliff and a deep dell, where Lorenzo somewhat drew in the rein to -leave the lady better room. - -"Ay," she exclaimed, "I shall beat you. See, your horse is out of -breath. Spur up, spur up, or the day is mine." - -Whether Lorenzo did imprudently use the spur, or that the horse shied -at something on the way, I do not know, but in trying to regain his -place by the lady's side the hackney (as lighter horses were then -called) swerved from the centre of the road and trod upon the loose -stones at the side. They gave way beneath his feet and went rattling -down into the glen, while the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled -around. The gallant beast made a strong effort to recover his footing, -but it was in vain; the ground yielded beneath his hoofs, and he fell -down the slope, rolling over his master as he went. - -"Jesu Maria!" cried Eloise de Chaumont, with a scream, "I have killed -him." - -That he was killed seemed for several minutes true, for he lay without -sense or motion. Antonio and several of the servants scrambled down -and raised the young lord's head, but he lay senseless still. Eloise -had bounded from her jennet and stood wringing her hands upon the -brink, and even Madame de Chaumont stayed for several minutes gazing -down; but at length the rain became too heavy for her patience, and -she said, "We can do no good here, Eloise. Let them carry him up to -the chateau. We shall only get cold and spoil all our housings. Mark, -look to that bird: its hood is all awry. Come, my child, come;" and, -without waiting for reply, she rode on. - -Eloise remained, however, not doing much good, it is true, but at -least showing sympathy; and at length Lorenzo was raised, and with -difficulty brought up to the road again. A deep groan as they carried -him told that life was not yet extinct, and the rain falling in his -face revived him as three of the servants carried him in their arms -towards the chateau. When he opened his eyes Eloise de Chaumont was -walking by his side, weeping, and, as soon as memory of all that had -occurred came back, he said, with a great effort, "I am not much hurt, -I believe. Do not grieve, dear lady." - -"O you are--you are, Lorenzo," she cried, "and I did it, foolish, -wicked girl that I am. But do not speak. We shall soon be at the -chateau. Ride, Guillaume, ride to the priest of St. Servan--he knows -all about chirurgy--bid him come up at all speed. Give the jennet to -Jean Graille. Ride on, I say, and be quick. Oh, Seigneur Visconti, I -am so sorry for my folly." - -In a few minutes Lorenzo was borne into the chateau, and carried to a -chamber, where, stretched upon a bed, he waited the arrival of the -priest. But Eloise de Chaumont would not leave him, notwithstanding -several messages from her mother. With her own hands she wiped the -earth from his brow; with her own hands she gave him water to drink, -and more than ever she called him Lorenzo, bringing back to the young -lord's mind a suspicion which he had once entertained, but speedily -dismissed as a vain fancy, that Eloise de Chaumont viewed him with -more favour than most others at a court where she was universally -sought and admired. - -It skills not to dwell upon the tedious process of a long sickness and -a slow recovery. Madame de Chaumont, a lady of a light and selfish -character, though not fond of witnessing suffering, visited Lorenzo -religiously once every day. Eloise de Chaumont, never accustomed to -restraint in anything, was in his chamber morning, noon, and night. In -his sickness she regarded him as a pet bird, or a favourite horse; -and, to say sooth, it would seem there were other feelings too, for -one time when he was sleeping he was wakened by the touch of her lips -upon his brow. Guests came and went at the chateau, but their presence -made no change in her conduct. When Mademoiselle de Chaumont was asked -for, the reply was, usually, "She is in the Seigneur de Visconti's -chamber;" and people began to wonder and to talk. - -The circles made on the clear bosom of the waters by a pebble cast -into them differ in this from those produced by the spread of rumour; -in the one case they become more and more faint in proportion to their -distance from the centre; in the other, they are not only extended, -but deepened. The gossip of the neighbouring chateaux spread to the -neighbouring towns, thence to wider circles still. They reached the -chateau of De Vitry, and they reached the court, and many a -circumstance was added which had never existed. Blanche Marie and De -Vitry rejoiced, for they hoped that the tendance of Eloise de Chaumont -might not only aid to cure Lorenzo from mere physical evils, but to -apply still more efficacious remedies to his mind. She was young, she -was beautiful, she was wealthy, the only child left by one of the -first nobles in the land; and there seemed all the frankness and -freedom of innocence about her, with a kindly heart, and a mind which -was brilliant, if not strong. They rode over together to see their -young cousin, and Blanche Marie was charmed with all she saw. She knew -not how dangerous it is to give way to impulses where feelings are not -backed by principles. She thought Eloise one provided by Heaven to -wean Lorenzo from the memory of another more dear, whom she believed -to be unworthy of him. - -At the court of the King of France--the lawful guardian of the young -heiress--the rumours of what was taking place at Chaumont produced -some agitation. Eloise was a special favourite of sweet Anne of -Brittany, and the queen was vexed and alarmed. Men are not so easily -affected by scandal as women, and the king laughed at what had grieved -his wife. "My life for it," he said, "this matter will be easily -explained. My young cousin Lorenzo is not one to peril a lady's -reputation, and if he has done so he must make reparation. We will -send for him, however, my dear lady." - -When the king's letter arrived, requiring in kindly terms Lorenzo's -presence at Amboise, that young nobleman, though able to rise from his -bed, was by no means sufficiently recovered to take a long journey, or -even to mount his horse. He assured the king in his reply, however, -that the moment he could ride he would get out on the journey; and, to -tell the truth, he longed not a little to leave the castle at -Chaumont. He himself felt that his residence there was becoming -somewhat dangerous to him. The memory of Leonora could not be banished -from his mind. Disappointment, indignation, and even a certain feeling -of contempt, which the indifference he believed her to have shown had -generated, could not extinguish entirely that first-born, fairy love, -which, once it has possession of the heart, rarely goes out entirely. -But yet Eloise de Chaumont was, as the poet says, "beautiful -exceedingly"--of a very different character from Leonora, more fair, -more laughing, with less soul in the look, less depth and intensity of -mind in the eyes, but still very beautiful. A sort of intimacy too, of -a nature difficult to describe, had sprung up during her long -attendance upon him; they called each other by their Christian names, -and, although no word of love had ever passed between them, it was -evident to everyone around that Eloise, knowing that her loveliness -and wealth gave her the choice of almost any man in France, looked -upon Lorenzo as her own, and would have been as much surprised as -grieved to think there was a doubt of her becoming his wife. - -Lorenzo, for his part, could not but be grateful, could not but -admire. One thing, however, proved that he did not love--he saw in her -many faults. He wished she was not so light, so frivolous. He wished -he could see some indications of firm character and steadfast -principles. "And yet," he thought, "Where I believed they most existed -they were the most wanting. What matters it to me whom I wed now? If -Eloise can love me, that amounts to the utmost sum of happiness I can -now hope for." - -Nevertheless, when, at the end of another fortnight, he mounted his -horse to proceed to Amboise, not a word had passed to bind him to her -who had nursed him so kindly. - -"When will you be back, Lorenzo?" asked Eloise, as she gave him her -cheek to kiss at parting. - -"I know not what the king wishes," replied Lorenzo, "or how long he -may detain me--not long, I hope." - -Those words bound him to nothing in the common eye of the world; but, -as he pondered them while riding on his way, he felt that they implied -a promise to return as soon as the king left him free to do so. And -yet he hesitated, and yet he doubted, and yet he asked himself, "Can -she make my happiness, or can I make hers?" - - - "It is well to be off with the old love - Before we are on with the new," - - -says an old song, and Lorenzo had reason to regret that he did not -apply the maxim it contains to his own heart. - -After traversing one half of France, and at Blois increasing his -retinue by a number of his servants from Paris, he rode on to fair -Amboise, where the king was then engaged in erecting those splendid -buildings which since his day have been the scene of so many tragical -events. He arrived at the castle early in the morning, and was -immediately admitted to Charles's presence. The monarch received him -kindly, saying, - -"So, my good cousin, you have come at length; your illness must have -been severe and tedious. What was its nature?" - -"Some broken bones, may it please your Majesty, and a body all bruised -and shaken by my horse falling down a hill and rolling over me," -replied Lorenzo. - -"By my faith! it does not please my Majesty at all," said the king, -laughing. "Odds life! dear Lorenzo, if your horse had served you so at -Fornovo, I should have been at the tender mercies of the Venetians, -most likely. But they tell me you found consolation in a fair lady's -society, and had plenty of it." - -"Mademoiselle de Chaumont attended me most kindly, and gave me as much -of her time as she could spare," replied Lorenzo, gravely. - -"She gave you a little of her reputation too, I am told," answered the -king, "and this is a subject on which I must speak to you seriously, -my cousin. You are perhaps not aware that idle and malicious tongues -have been busy with your name and that of Eloise de Chaumont. They say -that she would pass more than one half the night in your chamber." - -The angry blood rushed up into Lorenzo's face, but he answered at -first scoffingly. "If she did, sire, it must have been when I was -insensible to the honour," said Lorenzo; but he added, in a sterner -tone, "in short, my lord the king, he who said so is a liar, and I -will prove it on his body with my lance." - -"There is an easier manner to clear the young lady's reputation," -replied Charles, "for cleared, of course, it must be. She is a ward of -the crown. Her father was one of our best subjects and most faithful -friends, and your own station and fortune, as well as our affection -for you, render you, of all others, the man on whom we should wish to -bestow her hand. But, my dear cousin," he continued, in a lighter -tone, "there was, if I remember right, a fair lady in Italy whose -knight you were when we were there?" - -Lorenzo winced as if a serpent had stung him. - -"She is nothing to me, my lord, nor I to her," he said; "her own will -has severed every bond between us." - -"Then there is no impediment," said the king, "to your marriage to -Mademoiselle de Chaumont?" - -"None whatever that I know of, sire," replied Lorenzo. - -"And you promise me, whatever may happen to myself," said Charles, -"that you will heal this little scandal, produced by her great -kindness to yourself, by making her your wife as speedily as may be?" - -"If she will accept my hand," replied Lorenzo, "of which as yet I know -nothing; for no one word of love has ever passed between us; but God -forbid that any evil chance should befall your Majesty, as your words -seem to anticipate." - -"Who can tell?" said the king in a gloomy tone. "Of four children my -dear Anne has given me, not one remains alive; they have perished in -their beauty and their bloom. Why should I not perish with them? This -world is full of accidents and dangers, and we walk continually within -the shadow of death. My thoughts have been very gloomy lately, my good -cousin," and he laid his hand affectionately on Lorenzo's shoulder; -"and yet what matters it," he continued, "whether it be to-day, -to-morrow, or the next day? Stretch life out as long as we can, it is -but a span at last. However, it is well, in this uncertainty of being, -to delay not one hour anything that may be ruined by delay. I will -have the royal consent to your marriage with the ward of the crown -drawn out this morning. Come to me towards the hour of three, and it -shall be ready for you. The queen will then receive you more -graciously, when I have told her all, than she might do now." - -When Lorenzo returned at the hour appointed, he was conducted into -that beautiful hall still to be seen at Amboise, where he found the -king, the queen, and several attendants, apparently ready to go forth. -Anne of Brittany did receive him most graciously; and Charles handed -him the paper authorizing his immediate marriage with Eloise de -Chaumont. - -"We shall but give you time to bait your horses, Seigneur Visconti," -said the Queen of France, "and then send you back to your fair bride. -No stain must rest upon a lady's reputation long; and though this be -but the work of evil tongues, without a shadow of foundation for the -scandal, the sooner they are silenced the better. We are now going out -by the old postern into the fosse to see a game of tennis played, in -which, perchance, my lord may take part. We invite you to go with us, -that all the world may see we give no credit to these wild rumours." - -One of the chamberlains hastened to open the door of the hall, and the -royal party passed out, followed by Lorenzo and the attendants. They -took their way through the great marble hall below, and through a -long, narrow corridor or passage in the thick wall of the castle. It -was terminated by a low-browed, stone archway, with an oaken door, in -passing through which Charles, miscalculating its height, struck his -head violently against the arch, and would have fallen had he not been -caught by Lorenzo, who came close behind. - -For a moment or two the king seemed confused and almost stunned; but -the accident he had met with was so commonplace and apparently -insignificant that nobody took much notice of it. The ladies who -followed the queen were inclined to smile, and Charles himself treated -it more lightly than any one. He pressed his hand, it is true, once or -twice upon the top of his head, and took off his bonnet for the cool -air, but he declared it was "nothing--a mere nothing." - -A paleness had spread over the young monarch's face, however, which -Lorenzo Visconti did not like; but the royal party were soon in the -dry deep fosse, and the memorable _jeu de paume_ began. - -Charles prided himself upon his skill in all manly exercises, and -after looking on for a time, he took a racket, and joined in the game. -He was, or he was suffered to appear, the best player present; but -after he had played one score he gave up the racket, and withdrew from -the game, remaining for a short while as a spectator; and Lorenzo -remarked that, as the king stood looking on, he twice pressed his hand -upon his heart. At length he turned to the queen, and the rest of the -party who had accompanied him thither, and proposed to return into the -castle, adding a few words to Lorenzo on his approaching marriage. The -young nobleman walked nearly by his side, but a little behind, and all -passed the postern, and entered the narrow gallery or corridor, still -talking. When they had nearly reached a flight of steps which led to -the halls above, the king turned suddenly towards Lorenzo, saying, -"Remember," and then fell at once upon the pavement. - -A scene of indescribable confusion followed. Some of the attendants -raised the monarch to carry him up the stairs, but the chief -chamberlain forbade them to move him till a physician should be -called. Some cushions were brought to support his head, and speedily a -number of fresh faces crowded the passage; but the king remained -without consciousness. Some broken words fell from his lips, but no -one could discover what they meant, and, after a short struggle with -death, Charles VIII. passed away, beloved and mourned rather than -respected. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - - -Again let us change the scene. There is another whose course we must -trace, from the fatal, the terrible moment when she parted from -Lorenzo Visconti in Tuscany, to the death of Charles VIII. Ere we do -so, however, it may be needful to notice a small incident which -affected greatly her fate, without appearing to be in a direct manner -connected with it. - -In a magnificent room in one of those grand buildings, half palace, -half fortress, with which Rome in those days abounded, sat Cæsar -Borgia and Ramiro d'Orco, on the very day on which Charles VIII. began -his march from Lombardy to France. The cheek of Ramiro was less pale -than usual, and there was a slight gathering together of the eyebrows, -not to say a frown, which in an ordinary man might have signified very -little, but in one who had so strong an habitual command over his -features and over his emotions would indicate to those who knew him -well, an unusual degree of excitement. His voice was calm, however, -his tone courteous, and from time to time a quiet smile belied the -aspect of his brow. - -"My lord," he said, "I must have some security. Not that I doubt your -Eminence in the least. Heaven forbid! But all wise men like to have -some guarantee for anything that is promised to them, and are always -willing to give guarantees for that which they really intend to -perform." - -"I swear by my soul and my salvation," answered Borgia, "that if you -will aid me in this matter--aid me in its consummation--I will molest -her in no shape. She shall be to me as sacred as a nun." - -"I am sure your lordship is sincere," replied Ramiro, "but if oaths -were to be accepted at all, I would prefer that you swore in something -you believe in, rather than by your soul and your salvation. Then as -to your looking upon her as sacred as a nun, I have never heard that -you regarded nuns as sacred at all. It is better we should understand -each other clearly. I find, during your pleasure tour in Tuscany, you -entered the Villa Morelli, had very nearly caught and carried her -off, had she not been somewhat too light of foot for your -gentlemen-in-armour, and that you then set fire to the villa in order -to 'smoke her out,' as you expressed yourself. I have all the -information, my lord, and although you are pleased to pass the matter -off as a wild caprice to gratify your soldiery with a few fair -captives, without any cognizance of her being in the villa, yet the -answers to the inquiries you caused to be made at Florence should have -satisfied you that she could be nowhere else. Now I believe I can aid -you to the very man you want; and, as you are somewhat impatient, can -do it without delay; but I must, in the first place, have some strong -place put in my possession, where my daughter can be more safe than -she was in the Villa Morella, until such time as her lover becomes her -husband, and she leaves Italy for a somewhat quieter land." - -Cæsar Borgia laughed low and quietly. - -"Now what a strange thing is this that men call morality and virtue!" -he exclaimed, with a bitter sneer. "Not the chameleon changes colour -more frequently, and more completely according to the things around. -But we have no time for philosophical reflections, my dear Ramiro. -Tell me, are these men near at hand?" - -"They are here in Rome," replied Ramiro d'Orco. "In fact, my lord, -being a man of no great wealth and no power, I judged it expedient in -coming here in order to seek for both, to gather round me at times -serviceable men from various states of Italy, who might supply men -with a kind of authority tantamount to that which I did not possess. -Your Eminence's people, it seems, fail you at this step, although, God -wot, I should have thought they had few scruples left by this time. I -am willing to aid you with mine, provided you insure me against some -little frailties of your Eminence, which might lead to things -displeasing to me." - -"Well, well, send the men to me," said Cæsar Borgia; "it shall be -done." - -"It must be done before they come here, my lord," replied Ramiro -d'Orco. - -A flush passed over the young cardinal's countenance; but he said, -starting up suddenly-- - -"Well, wait here till I return. I must get the donation from his -Holiness." - -"Remember, I must have all rights and privileges--of high and low -justice--of war and of defence, with only reservation of homage of the -Holy See. I know not what it is exactly that your Eminence requires -these men to do; but they have strong stomachs, and are not likely to -be nauseated by trifles." - -"I doubt not they are by no means dainty," replied Borgia, and he left -the room. - -Ramiro d'Orco remained alone for more than an hour, during which he -hardly moved his position. One sentence did escape his lips just after -Cæsar Borgia left him. "This man is angry," he said, "and his anger is -dangerous." What he thought afterward I know not; probably it was of -self-preservation, for he drew his dagger, and looked all along the -blade, examining most carefully a small groove which extended from the -hilt to the point, then sheathed it again, and seemed to fall into -quiet meditation. - -At length, when it was well-nigh dark, the door opened again, and the -cardinal re-entered with a parchment in his hand. His face was now all -placid and benign, and advancing toward Ramiro, he said, "I have been -long, my friend; but if you knew how much I have had to do in one -short hour, you would say I had been expeditious. There--that paper -gives you Imola and its dependencies, with all the rights and -privileges you require. It took me one half the time to persuade his -Holiness to grant it. Had he known to what it tended, he would have -cut off his right hand ere he signed it." - -"I thank your Eminence sincerely," replied Ramiro, taking the -parchment; "mutual benefits bind men together. They must never be all -on one side. Either I miscalculate my own powers, or you shall have -the worth of this gift in a few hours in services of the most -acceptable kind. Now let us know what you want done." - -"I want a man removed from my path," said Borgia, abruptly; "one whose -shadow is too tall for me--who stands between me and the sun." - -"That is easily done, my lord," replied Ramiro d'Orco, "there is such -a river as the Tiber, and men will fall in at times, especially when -they are either drunk or badly wounded." - -"You catch my meaning readily," replied Borgia. "It were done easily, -as you say, Ramiro, were this a common case, but there are men upon -whom vulgar assassins would fear to try their steel." - -"They must have faint hearts or poor brains," replied Ramiro. "A man -is but a man, and a fisherman's life is as good to him as a -cardinal's. It is as valuable, too, in the eye of the law; and he who -can conceal one deed can conceal another. May I know at what quarry -you wish me to let loose the hounds?" - -Cæsar Borgia rose, and walked slowly up and down the room. There was -something that moved him--that troubled him. What could it be? -Remorse? No, he knew no remorse nor pity. The human heart will -sometimes, in its dark recesses, conceive things so horrible, that, -though it will retain and nourish them as its most cherished -offspring, it will dread that any other eye should see them, and long -to build around them, like the Cretan queen, a dark and intricate -edifice, to hide them for ever from man's sight. It might be this that -moved him. He had need of aid; he had need of instruments; he was -obliged to speak that which he fain would have had done but never -uttered. His beautiful countenance was overshadowed by the expression -of a demon--not a triumphant, but a suffering demon; his eyes were -fixed upon vacancy, and his broad, tall forehead was covered with a -cold dew. At length he seated himself again close to Ramiro d'Orco, -and in a voice low but distinct, said-- - -"My friend, whoever will attain great power must not suffer -impediments to be in his way. He must remove them, Ramiro. Nor must -one prejudice of man, one canting maxim of priests--not even of those -habitual weaknesses which are implanted in us during childhood, and -reared and nourished by women and servants, remain to stumble at. Who, -think you, has most kept me from the light since I was born? Who, -without striving, has won all the prizes in the games of life, and -left me nothing but the fragrance of his banquet?" - -It was nearly dark, and they could hardly see each other's faces, so -that the paleness which spread over Ramiro d'Orco's face escaped the -eyes of his companion. Ramiro answered nothing, and Borgia went on. - -"When this mighty city was founded, two brothers, equal in power, laid -it out and planned it. One was feeble as compared with the other, and -the stronger mind soon saw that there was not room for two. Had Remus -lived, what had Rome been now? A village in a marsh. But his great and -glorious brother knew well what course to take in founding a new -dominion, and he took it. Nor is such conduct uncommon nowadays with -those who have strong hearts and seek great objects. Look at that -mighty people whom we poor fools fear and call infidels. Have we ever -seen, since the days of Rome's greatest glory, a more powerful, -energetic, conquering race than the Saracens? Does the sultan, or -caliph, or whatever he may be, suffer his power to be shaken or his -course to be impeded by a weak horde of brothers? No, no. He sends out -of the troubles of life those who are not gifted for life's mighty -contests. Why, this man Bajazet has paid three hundred thousand ducats -for the dead body of his brother Zizim, lest perchance he should some -day trouble his repose. Shall I be more scrupulous when the Duke of -Gandia builds up a wall between me and my right course? No, Ramiro, -no! I am about to cast off these priestly robes, that only trammel me, -to pursue the path which nature by a mistake opened him; to strive in -arms and policy for the great designs of ambition; and I would have -the course cleared before me. Do you understand me now, Ramiro?" - -"I think I do, my lord," replied Ramiro d'Orco; but Borgia went on -without attending to him. - -"A mistake of nature, did I say? a blunder--a gross blunder. Had I had -Gandia's opportunities, should I have neglected them as he has done? -What should I have been now? What would my friends have been? This -miserable cardinalate, what does it give me? Not enough to reward a -horse-boy. Give me but room, and I will make sure to carve me a -principality out of this land which will enable me to raise my name on -high, and recompense all who serve me. I will so work the dissensions -of these States, that if I bring them all not under my heel, I will -bind a sufficient number in a fasces to render my power unassailable. -But I must have room, Ramiro, I must have room; and I must have it -quickly. Between this hour and my father's death, who can say what -time will be allowed me? Yet all must be done within that space; and -if I pause and hesitate at the first step, the precious moment will -have slipped by. Gandia must die, my friend. He bars my way, he -extinguished my light. An accident made him my elder brother; we must -have some accident which shall leave me without one. Now, then, you -know all. Can you help me? How can you help me?" - -"I am too old to help you with my own hand, my lord," replied Ramiro -d'Orco, "but I have those who can and will. You need not explain aught -to them. You need never name the man, but merely designate him by -outward signs. You know his haunts--his habits. Let them watch for him -in some convenient place, and treat him as they would some gay gallant -who has raised the jealousy of some noble husband." - -"But it must be done quickly, Ramiro," replied the other. "In a few -days I must quit Rome for Naples, and I would have it finished before -I go." - -"That is easy too," replied Ramiro d'Orco. "You must learn where he -may be found. Give them but the hour and place, and they will spare -you all future trouble." - -Cæsar Borgia did not seem altogether satisfied. He sat silent, with -his eyes fixed upon the ground, gnawing his lower lip; and, after a -moment's pause, passed apparently in intense thought, Ramiro added, - -"There is but one way, my lord, in which this thing can be done -properly and well. You shall see the men yourself; you can be either -incognito or not, as you please: but deal with them separately. Four -will be enough, for I know that each man I send you is equal to a -dozen common cut-throats. You have but to tell me where and when they -shall come to you, and I will have them there, one by one, with a -quarter of an hour between their visits." - -"You are, indeed, a good deviser, my friend Ramiro," replied Borgia, -with a well-pleased look. "No witness to my conversation with either. -They can meet and arrange their plans afterward, but that commits not -me. As to incognito it is hardly possible and hardly needful. My face -is too well known in Rome, and my word better than any single -bravo's." - -"When shall I send them, my lord?" asked Ramiro d'Orco. - -"This night--this very night," answered Borgia, eagerly; "no time is -to be lost. Such things should be hardly thought of ere they be -executed. The deed should tread upon the heels of the determination." - -"And here?" asked Ramiro. - -"Ay, even here," replied Borgia. "Strange people come here sometimes -my Ramiro." - -"Then I hasten to fulfil your lordship's will," replied his companion. -"Lay not your finger on my household gods, and you will find no one to -serve you better. I have already given you some proof of it by -throwing such nets around my good cousin, the Cardinal Julian, that -all his enmity toward your father has proved impotent as yet. In this -matter you shall find that I can be serviceable too." - -"As to your household gods or goddesses, dear Ramiro," replied Borgia, -with a light laugh, "be under no fear. I was a fool about that -business of the villa. I knew not that you would take the thing so -much to heart, for I am too wise to risk the loss of a strong friend -for a light love. You told me just now to swear by something I -believed in. I swear by my ambition, Ramiro, that I will never seek -your daughter, or trouble her again. May fortune never favour me if I -do! You will believe that oath, Ramiro?" - -"It is the most binding your Eminence could take," replied d'Orco, -drily; "and now I take my leave, for I believe with you, that if this -is to be done at all, it should be done at once. Yet one word more; as -you seek no incognito, I will send you a man who knows you already, -and whom you know. He is better and more trusty than one of those I -thought of. He has been bred in a rare school for such operations. -Buondoni of Milan was his tutor, and Ludovic the Moor the regent of -the university where he studied." - -"Ah! who is he?" asked Borgia, with a smile. "He should be a great -professor if he have any genius." - -"Oh, he is a ripe scholar, and a man of much ability," answered -Ramiro. "He knows the course of the jugular vein, and the exact -position of the heart, as if he were an anatomist. This is no other -than our good friend, Friar Peter. He may come to you to-night without -his robes on, but you will find Pierre Mardocchi as good a devil as -any friar of them all. But we waste time, and again I take my leave." - -What were the feelings of Ramiro d'Orco as he left the Borgia palace -would be difficult to say. He was a man of few scruples, and hardened -in that worst of all philosophies, which some even in our own day are -so eager to teach, the main axiom of which is, that all men are -equally bad, and bold crime is superior to timid vice by the great -element of courage. It is hardly possible for a misanthropist to be -anything but a villain. And yet, although he would not have shrunk -from any ordinary crime, there was something in the calm determination -of Borgia to murder his own brother--ay, and even in the arguments he -had used to palliate, if not justify the act, which had sent the blood -back from his cheek and from his lips, and it seemed to stagnate for a -moment. - -But short consideration was needed to show him that there was but one -course left for him to pursue with any chance of safety. The dangerous -confidence which Cæsar Borgia had placed in him did not admit of any -choice but between death and crime. He must be an accomplice or he -must be an enemy; and to be Cæsar Borgia's enemy, for any man -unarmoured in mighty power, was to stand upon the brink of the grave. -All remorse, all hesitation, therefore, were quickly done away. "I -must serve him well," he thought--"must help him to accomplish the -deed--must teach him he cannot do without me. Then his own interest -will make him my friend in acts, if not in heart." - -Not three quarters of an hour had passed ere a friar presented himself -at the Borgia palace. He stayed some twenty minutes, and ere he left -another man was admitted to the cardinal--a man of swaggering military -air, who had lost one eye, apparently in fight. These two came forth -together, crossed over to the other side of the street, and stood -there conversing for some time under an archway. During the next half -hour, two others, each of whom had previously visited the Borgia -palace, were added to the group, and it must be admitted that four -more consummate scoundrels have seldom been gathered together. - -On the following night there was a great entertainment at the house of -Rosa Vanozza, the mother of the Borgias, the concubine of the pope. -Guest after guest departed, some with lights to guide their steps, -some apparently not so willing that the course they took should be -marked. There was a servant, richly dressed, who stood in the square -opposite the house, who scanned every group as it came out, and at the -farther corner of the square were three or four men, discussing, it -would seem, some knotty point with Italian vehemence of gesture. - -Though apparently indifferent to everything but their own -conversation, the eyes of these men also ran over each group that came -from the Casa Vanozza. All passed by, however, without their moving; -the lights wound away through the narrow streets, and all became -darkness in the square. The men then moved on towards the servant, who -still remained where he had been stationed before, as if intending to -pass him; but just at the moment they were doing so, he staggered some -paces with a groan, and fell upon the pavement. The men returned to -the spot where they had been previously standing. - -A few minutes after, two gay-looking young cavaliers came forth from -Vanozza's house, and walked partly across the square together at some -distance from where the dead man lay. One of them looked round, -saying, "Where can my valet be? The dog has grown weary of waiting, I -suppose. Have you no servants with you, Cæsar?" - -"No," replied the other, "I have no fear of walking the streets of -Rome alone--I am so beloved, you know, Gandia," and he added a short -bitter sort of a laugh. - -"Well, I take this street to the right," said the Duke of Gandia. "I -have some business down near San Jacomo." - -"Good night," said the other. "I know where you are going, Gandia. You -can't cheat me." - -"Good-night, cardinal," replied the duke, laughing, and they parted. - -The same night, a few hours afterward, a boatman upon the Tiber, -watching a load of wood which he had landed near the church of St. -Jerome, and lying apparently asleep in his boat, saw two men come -forth from the narrow alley which ran by the side of the church, and -look cautiously all round, up one street and down another, as if to -insure that all were free from passengers. Everything was still about -the city--no step was heard, no moving object seen--and the two men -returned to the alley whence they had issued forth. - -Shortly after, four men appeared at the mouth of the alley, one of -whom was on horseback, and all approached at a quick pace toward a -spot on the banks of the Tiber not more than ten yards from the boat -in which the man was watching. When they came near he perceived that -the horseman had the corpse of a dead man behind him, flung carelessly -over the crupper, with the head and arms hanging over on one side, and -the feet and legs on the other. When near the river, the horseman -wheeled his horse and backed it to the brink. His companions then took -the body from behind him, swung it to and fro several times to give it -greater impetus, and then cast it as far as they could into the Tiber. -The horseman then turned and gazed upon the shining surface of the -river, upon which the moon was now pouring a flood of light. - -"What is that black thing floating there?" he asked. - -"It is his cloak," replied one of the others. - -"Cast some stones upon it quick," said the horseman. His orders were -obeyed, and the cloak disappeared. - -When the boatman, many days afterward, told his story, upon being -questioned as to whether he had seen anything particular on the fatal -Wednesday night, he was asked with some surprise why he had not given -information at once. He answered that within the last few years he had -seen more than a hundred dead thrown into the Tiber, and had never -considered it any business of his. - -On the following day Rome was startled with the intelligence that the -Duke of Gandia, the pope's eldest son--the only one, indeed, who -possessed in any degree the love or respect of the people--was -missing; and sinister rumours spread around. - -But there was one man within the gates of Rome who knew the whole on -the Wednesday night. Cæsar Borgia went not to bed when he returned -from his mother's entertainment; but, dismissing all his train to -rest, he waited for news of the events which he was well aware were to -happen. I might give a fanciful picture of the agitation of his -mind--of the listening ear and the straining eye, and the pallid -cheek, and the quivering lip--and it might have every appearance of -verisimilitude; for at that moment a brother was being murdered by his -order. But it was not so. He sat upon velvet cushions, playing with a -small, silky-haired monkey. He seemed as thoughtless, careless, and -sportive as the poor beast itself. For half an hour he amused himself -thus. He teased it, he irritated it, and then he soothed it. Again he -teased it, and at length the monkey bit him, when, seizing it by the -legs, he dashed its head against the floor, and the poor beast lay -dead at his feet. He washed the blood from his hand with a -handkerchief, and stood gazing at the dead brute with a face that -betokened no grief or regret. At length he kicked the body into a -corner, murmuring, "People must not bite me." - -People! Did he think that monkey was his brother? - -The only time when he showed some degree of agitation was when more -than an hour and a half had elapsed since his return, and yet no -tidings arrived. "Can they have failed?" he said, in a low voice; "can -they have failed? Oh no, impossible!" and, sitting down again--for he -had risen while the momentary fear crossed his mind--he took up a book -and read some love songs of that day. Nearly another hour passed, and -then a step was heard upon the staircase. The next instant a friar -entered the room, and silently closed the door behind him. - -"It is done your Eminence," said the man, approaching Borgia, and -speaking low and quietly. - -"What have you done with the body?" asked the cardinal. - -"It is at the bottom of the Tiber," replied Mardocchi, "I am somewhat -late, for we had to drag him into Michelotto's house, near St. -Jerome's, and we did not like to carry him to the river bank as long -as a single soul could be seen moving in the streets." - -"Right--right," said Cæsar Borgia! "that might have been ruinous." - -"Not an eye saw," said Mardocchi, "though he fought for a minute or -two; for Michelotto missed his first blow, and it took nine wounds to -dispatch him. Some one must have given him three. I only gave him -two, but they were good ones. One was between the throat and the -breast-bone; the other, which was the best, was in the middle of the -left side; that brought him down, and he never moved or spoke after -that." - -"You are a good and faithful fellow," replied Borgia, "and have bound -you to me for ever. You shall take away with you to-night the ducats I -promised yourself and your companions; but that ring is for yourself, -and engages you in my particular service." - -Mardocchi took the ring and held it in his hand, apparently -hesitating. - -"I beg your Eminence to pardon me," he said, at length, "but I cannot -quit the Lord Ramiro." - -"Ha! do you love the good lord so much?" asked Borgia. - -"No, your Eminence, I do not love him at all," replied the friar; -"but--but--I have an object in staying with him." - -"Speak out--speak out, Mardocchi," said Cæsar Borgia; "you have -nothing to fear from me, and if I can help you, I will." - -"It is a long story, my lord," replied the friar; "but to tell you as -shortly as may be. The signor's daughter, it seems, is to be married -shortly to young Lorenzo Visconti. Now I have an old grudge against -that young man. I have promised not to practise against his life, and -I will keep my promise, for I always do; but I have not promised not -to do him all the harm I can, for revenge I will have, and I can only -have it by staying with Ramiro d'Orco." - -"That suits me well," replied Cæsar Borgia. "You shall be my servant, -Mardocchi, but not quit the good lord. You may remain with him, go -with him where he goes, serve him against all men except me; but you -will remember you are mine, and be ready to serve me at a moment's -notice. I need such men as you. You will receive a hundred ducats in -the year from my treasurer, and I count upon you for any service, even -should it be against Ramiro himself." - -"I trust I may count upon your Eminence's countenance too," said -Mardocchi, "in case I should get into any trouble on this Signor -Visconti's matters, for my revenge upon him I will have." - -"You shall have my protection, and those whom I protect are tolerably -safe," said Borgia, rising and going to a small beautiful cabinet that -stood in the room. "Here, take this bag of ducats; it is what I -promised. Divide them equally with your companions, and say nothing -about the ring I have given you. Come to me to-morrow, and we will -speak further. I will now retire, and shall sleep better than I have -done for weeks." - -Mardocchi took the heavy bag, and as he did so, Cæsar Borgia saw that -there was blood on the man's hand. It was his brother's blood; and the -sight did for an instant touch his obdurate heart, which nothing else -had reached. He did not sleep so well that night as he expected. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - - -Ramiro d'Orco sat in his own splendid room while rumours of the death -of the unfortunate Duke of Gandia spread consternation through the -city; but he had before him a parchment with a large pendant seal, -which gave him the important ecclesiastical fief of Imola, and he -thought of little else. The first great step he had ever been able to -take in that high road of ambition which he had so long been eager to -follow was now taken. He saw before him along career of greatness, and -he calculated that, step by step, as Cæsar Borgia rose, he must rise -with him. He did not over-estimate at all the abilities of that very -remarkable man; and it was no wild calculation to presume that, with -such abilities, with such courage, with such ambition, and without a -scruple, Cæsar Borgia, in that unscrupulous age, must rise to the -highest point of power and dignity. - -True, the town of Imola had its own lords; true, it was strongly -garrisoned; but the barony had been declared forfeited to the Holy -See, and the fortifications were too much decayed to withstand a -siege. Linked as he was now with Cæsar Borgia, and knowing that his -services, especially with the hostile Cardinal of St. Peter's, were -necessary to the Holy See, he doubted not that the forces of the pope, -which were soon to be employed against Forli, in the immediate -neighbourhood of Imola, would be permitted to place him in possession -of the vicariate. He was resolved, however, to make sure of that point -as early as possible, and if not successful in his application, to -raise troops himself and endeavour to surprise the place. - -The second day after the assassination of the Duke of Gandia, Ramiro -d'Orco, with more splendour than he had yet displayed in Rome, -presented himself first at the Vatican, and then at the palace of the -cardinal. At the Vatican he was refused admittance, and the attendants -told him the dreadful sufferings of the father for the loss of his -eldest and best-beloved son. They assured him, and assured him truly, -that the pope, shut up in his cabinet, had neither seen any one, nor -tasted food of any kind since the death of the duke had been -ascertained. At the Borgia palace he was admitted, and he found in the -gorgeous saloons a number of the high nobility of Rome, brought -thither by the same motive which he himself professed, namely, to -condole with the young cardinal upon his brother's death. With a grave -air and a sad look, he advanced slowly toward Borgia, and expressed in -graceful and well-chosen terms his regret and horror at the event -which had occurred. - -The drama was well played on both parts, although, to tell the truth, -Cæsar was so much amused at the farce, that, had he not been the most -complete master of dissimulation in the world, he must have laughed -aloud. He looked grave and sad, however; and when Ramiro, after having -stayed for some time in the hope that the other visitors would depart, -rose to do so himself, Cæsar said to him, in that bland and caressing -tone which he knew so well how to use-- - -"Stay with me, my Ramiro. Your company will give me consolation. You -must partake my poor dinner, though, to say truth, I have no stomach -for aught." - -One by one the barons departed, and if any one suspected that the -cardinal was not so much grieved as he appeared to be, they took care -not to express their doubts to any one--no, not to their dearest -friends or most trusted confidant. When they were gone, a quiet smile -passed over Cæsar Borgia's lips, but neither he nor Ramiro made the -slightest allusion to the events of the past. - -The cardinal, however, was in the most benign and generous humour. His -appetite at dinner showed no signs of decay, nor did he altogether -avoid the wine-cup. Ramiro knew that he was necessary to him, and -therefore ate and drank with him without fear, although it was not -always a very safe proceeding. In the course of the dinner Ramiro -alluded to the difficulties he might have in obtaining possession of -Imola; but Cæsar cut him short with a kindly smile, saying-- - -"I have thought of all that, and that will be easily arranged, I -trust. My journey to Naples once over--and it will only take ten -days--I march against these traitor vicars of the Holy See, and will -expel them from the possessions they unjustly retain. The pope, my -friend, does not bestow a fief without putting the recipient in -possession of it. The first occupation of his forces under my command -will be to establish you safely in your city, trusting that I shall -have your aid and good counsel in dealing with the others which I have -to reduce. Ramiro," he continued, changing his tone and speaking -abruptly, "you have done me vast service, and those who serve me well -are sure of my gratitude. You have rendered great services, too, to -the Holy See, and can render greater still, for there is only one -enemy we have to fear, that fierce Julian. Continue to keep him in -check for my sake, and as long as my father lives you may count upon -me as your friend." - -"I hope, indeed, to be able to do still more," and Ramiro; "for when -my daughter is united to a cousin of the King of France, his companion -and his friend, I shall have a mouthpiece at that court which can -whisper a word in the king's closet more potent than all that Julian -de Rovera can say at the council table." - -"Good--good," said Cæsar Borgia; and then they proceeded to discuss -many points in regard to their future proceedings, which would not -interest the reader. Suffice it to say, a few weeks after this -conversation, a strong body of the papal troops appeared before the -gates of Imola, and summoned the garrison to surrender. Merely a show -of resistance was made: but at the first mention of terms the garrison -agreed to capitulate, and before night marched out. On the following -morning Cæsar Borgia pursued his way toward Forli, and Ramiro d'Orco, -with a splendid train and a considerable band of armed men, whom he -had engaged in Rome, made his public entry into the city. The people, -who had suffered some oppression from their late lords, shouted and -rejoiced, and all his first acts gave promise of a gentle and paternal -rule. - -Only two days had passed after he became Lord of Imola, when Father -Peter, as he was now called, was summoned to the presence of Ramiro -d'Orco, and told to prepare for an immediate journey to Florence. - -"I send a noble lady of this place," said the baron, "with twenty -men-at-arms and some women servants, to bring my daughter hither; but -you, my good Mardocchi, have an especial part to play in this -business. You will hand her my letter; tell her, her presence is -needful to me, and that the dangers she feared in Rome do not exist at -Imola. You have told me, I think, that you have seen and known the -young Lord Lorenzo Visconti. He is expected in Florence soon to wed my -daughter, and will go at once to the Casa Morelli. You must remain -behind after the Signora Leonora has set out, and wait for his coming. -When he arrives you must immediately see him, and induce him to come -hither. Tell him that I found it expedient for many reasons that -Leonora should be with me until he came to claim her hand, but for -none more than this: I have certain information that my good cousin, -Mona Francesca Morelli, having lost her beauty from the effects of -injuries she received some months since, is about immediately to enter -the convent of San Miniato. Leonora will then be without protection in -Florence, unless she goes with Mona Francesca to the convent, which -would not please me, as I fear the influence of the sisters upon her -mind. You will tell Signor Visconti, however, that I am forgetful of -no promises, and that I am ready to bestow upon him my child's hand as -soon as he arrives at Imola." - -"But how long am I to wait for him, noble lord?" asked Mardocchi: -"young gentlemen are sometimes fickle, and perchance he may not come -as soon as you expect." - -A sudden flush passed over Ramiro's face, and his brows contracted; -but after a short pause he answered, in his usual tone: - -"He is not fickle, my good friend. He will be there within a month -after you reach Florence; the ways are all open now, and there is -nothing to impede him; but even if, from some accident which we cannot -foresee, he should be delayed a fortnight or three weeks longer, I -would have you stay for him. Few men, my good Mardocchi, are likely to -be fickle with _my_ daughter." - -He laid an emphasis on the word "my", but yet there was something of -paternal pride and tenderness in his tone. - -"I should think it would be somewhat dangerous," said the friar with a -laugh; "however, I will be ready, my lord, at your command, and will -obey you to the tittle." - -"Dangerous!" said Ramiro, after the man left him. "But this is -nonsense; he dare not slight her." - -In some eighteen days' time Leonora appeared in Imola, more beautiful, -perhaps, than ever, and many of the young nobles of the neighbouring -country would willingly have disputed her hand with any one; but -Ramiro d'Orco took care to make it known that her heart, with his -approbation, had been won by another, whose bride she was soon to be. -Toward her he was, perhaps, in some degree, more tender than he had -shown himself before, yet there was but little difference in his -manner or his conduct; there was the same indulgence of her slightest -wishes; the same grave, almost studied reserve. He told her more as a -command than a permission, that she would be united to Lorenzo as soon -as he arrived; and Leonora's heart beat high with hope and -expectation. - -Week passed by after week, and still Lorenzo did not come. One letter -arrived from Florence informing Ramiro and his daughter that Mona -Francesca, deprived of Leonora's society, which had of late been her -only solace, had retired from the world even earlier than she had -intended; but nothing was heard of Mardocchi, though he was known to -be a good scribe. - -Six weeks--two months passed, and fears of various kinds took -possession of Leonora's heart. Ramiro d'Orco said nothing, but he -appeared more grave and stern than ever. - -At length a carrier passing by Imola brought a letter from Mardocchi. -It was merely to ask if he should return. He made no mention of -Lorenzo, but he merely laconically remarked that he thought he had -stayed long enough. Ramiro d'Orco laid the letter before his daughter -without remark, but he took advantage of a messenger going to France -from Cæsar Borgia to order Mardocchi to return. - -And what did Leonora do? A tear or two dropped on the villain's -letter. She had no doubt of Lorenzo's constancy. His heart was imaged -in her own, and she saw nothing fickle, nothing doubtful there. She -thought he must be ill--wounded, perhaps, in some encounter--unable to -come or write, But she had heard of the courier's passing too, and she -longed to write. There had been something in her father's manner, -however, that made her hesitate, and, after long thought she went -boldly up to his private cabinet. He was seated, signing some official -papers, but he looked up the moment she entered, saying-- - -"What is it, Leonora?" - -A new spirit had entered into her with her love for Lorenzo Visconti, -and she answered no longer with the timidity, nay, with that fear -which at one time she felt in speaking to her father. - -"Lorenzo must be ill, my father," she said. "I am told that there is a -courier going to France, and I long to write by him. I feel it would -be better, wiser, to have no secrets from my father--to let him know -my whole heart and all my acts. I, therefore, will not write without -your permission." - -"Write--write, my child," said Ramiro d'Orco, with a more beaming look -than usually came upon his countenance. "God grant that this young -man's disease may be more of the body than the mind. His conduct is -strange, but yet I will lose no chance. I cannot write to him, but you -may. Woman's love may pardon what man's harder nature must revenge. -Perhaps this letter may e explained. God grant it!" - -Leonora retired to her chamber and wrote: - -"My spirit is very much troubled, dear Lorenzo"--such were the -words--"You promised to return in two months after we parted. Five -have passed; and you have neither come nor written. I know you are -ill. I entertain no other fear; but my father, I can see, has doubts -that have never entered into my mind. I beseech you remove them. A -messenger has been waiting for you at Florence to explain to you that -my father has become Lord of Imola, and that I have joined him here. -It is probable that this good man, Father Peter, may not be able to -remain waiting for you any longer, and I therefore write to let you -know where you will find me. That you will seek me as soon as it is -possible, or write to me if it is impossible for you to seek me soon, -no doubt exists in the mind of your - LEONORA." - -She folded and sealed the letter, and took it at once to her father; -but Ramiro remarked on the green floss silk with which it was tied. - -"Take some other colour, my child," he said; and, stretching across -the table, he threw before her a small bundle of those silks with -which it was customary to attach a seal to letters in that day. -"There is crimson," he said; "that will suit better for the occasion." - -There seemed a meaning lurking in his speech which Leonora did not -like; but she obeyed quietly, and was about to leave the letter -re-sealed with him, when he suddenly said-- - -"Stay! better put in the corner, 'To be shown to the Reverend Father -Peter, at the Casa Morelli, Florence, in case the Signor Lorenzo -Visconti should have arrived.' If he be there, it would be useless to -send the letter on to France; if not there, Father Peter will forward -it." - -Leonora obeyed willingly, for during the short time she had been in -her father's house she had found that the friar was high in Ramiro's -good opinion, and that all the attendants, taking the colour of their -thoughts from those of their lord, spoke well of Father Peter. Nor had -the little which she had seen of him in Florence at all enlightened -her as to the real character of the man. To the eyes of children -fragments of coloured glass look like gems, and Leonora was too young -to distinguish in a moment, as one old and experienced can sometimes -do, the false from the true stone. - -The direction was written in the corner with her own hand, which -prevented the letter from ever reaching her lover. - -No sooner was it shown to Mardocchi than he told the messenger he -would keep it, as he had certain intelligence that the young cavalier -would be in Florence in three days. Lorenzo Visconti had been in -Florence long before, and from the old porter at the Casa Morelli had -heard the story which Mardocchi had put in the man's mouth; that -Leonora had gone to join her father at Imola, thence to proceed -immediately to some distant part of Italy, no one knew where. The deaf -old man's kindly feeling prevented him from telling all that Mardocchi -suggested, namely, that it was Ramiro d'Orco's intention to wed his -daughter to some of his new friends in the south, and that Leonora -made no opposition. That was the tale which reached Lorenzo -afterwards, for it was diligently spread; and as more than half of the -intelligence of Europe was in those days conveyed by rumour, it passed -current with most men, though it came in no very tangible form. - -No sooner had Cæsar Borgia's courier departed from Florence than -Mardocchi set out for Imola. He was engaged in a somewhat hazardous -game, and it was necessary for him to be on the spot where it could -most conveniently be played. The one predominant passion, however, was -as strong in his heart as ever, and, had it cost him his life, he -would have played out that game for revenge. The circumstances of the -time favoured all his machinations. There were no regular posts in -those days. Communication was slow and scanty. An armed horseman -carried the letter of this or that great lord or merchant from town to -town, and sometimes was permitted, if his journey was to be a long -one, to take up small packages from private citizens in the places -through which he passed. It may easily be conceived that, in such -circumstances as these, it was easy for a villain, shrewd and -determined in his purpose, to intercept what communication he pleased. -A flagon of fine wine, a golden ducat, readily brought all ordinary -couriers to reason; and the dangerous secrets he possessed gave -Mardocchi, even with his lord, an influence denied to any other man in -Imola. - -I may well, therefore, pass over all the details of those means by -which he worked the misery of Lorenzo Visconti and Leonora d'Orco. -Only two facts require to be mentioned. He soon found, or rather -divined, that it would be needful to stop Leonora's correspondence -with her cousin Blanche; and after the first two or three, no letters, -addressed to the latter, left the castle of Imola. They were, in -general, burned immediately; but, in carelessly looking through one of -them, the traitor found a few words which he thought might answer his -purpose at some future time. - -Leonora's pride, in writing to her cousin, had somewhat given way on -hearing of the approaching marriage of Blanche and De Vitry, and she -alluded sadly to her own disappointment. "For once," she wrote, "an -early engagement has been crowned with happiness. Oh! what a fool I -was to cast away the first feelings of my heart, without knowing -better the man to whom I gave them." - -These words were carefully out out, and when at length a letter from -Lorenzo came, sent from Rome by Villanova (the new ambassador of the -French king to the Papal court), it did not share the fate of the -rest. It was a last effort to draw at least some answer from Leonora; -and it had very nearly reached her for whom it was intended, the -courier having arrived at a very unusual hour. But Mardocchi was all -ears and all eyes, and he stopped the packages at the very door of -Ramiro d'Orco's cabinet. - -"The good lord slept," he said; "he had been exhausted by long labours -in the service of his people. The letters should be delivered as soon -as he woke." - -In the meantime he held them in charge; and when they were delivered, -one was missing. That one was sent back again to France some few -months before the death of Charles VIII., and into the cover was -slipped the scrap of paper containing those words in Leonora's own -hand, "Oh! what a fool I was to cast away the first feelings of my -heart without knowing better the man to whom I gave them!" - -Mardocchi laughed as he placed the writing close under the seal. -Whether he saw the extent of the evil he was working, who can tell? -Vague notions might flit before his imagination of dark ulterior -consequences--of Ramiro d'Orco's seeking vengeance for the slight -shown to his daughter--of Lorenzo's fiery spirit urging on a -quarrel--of his own power to direct the dagger or the poison, though -he had vowed to use neither with his own hand; but certain it is that -no result could be too terrible for his desires. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - - -Two years had passed, and Leonora d'Orco had changed with everything -around her. Alliances had been formed and broken; great commanders had -won victories, and yielded to the stronger hand of Fate. Kings had -descended from the proud pitch of power and betaken themselves to the -humblest of beds; new combinations had been formed over the whole -earth; enemies had become friends, friends enemies; love was burning -soon to become cold; and there was coldness where the most ardent -passion had once been felt. - -I must be pardoned if I pause in my simple tale to show how the -strange transforming-rod of time had affected Leonora d'Orco. Anguish, -disappointment, anger--yes, I may say anger--had produced for a time -those results which mental excitement almost of any kind fails not to -work on the human frame. - -When a whole year had elapsed without tidings or explanation from -Lorenzo Visconti, her cheek might be seen to become paler and paler -every day. Her limbs and form could not lose their grace, but they -lost their beautiful contour. She became thin as well as pale; her -bright eyes, too, lost somewhat of their lustre. She was still a young -girl, and it was painful to see how her loveliness faded as her best -hopes faded. She sought solitude; she avoided all society; she shunned -especially that of men. Her father's was an exception. Parent and -child seemed drawn closer together by the events which had inflicted a -different kind of pain upon the heart of each. Often, after gazing at -her for a while, cold, stern, remorseless Ramiro d'Orco would suddenly -seek his cabinet, and, pressing his hands together till the fingers -grew white, would utter but one word--"revenge!" - -This state of things lasted but a few months, however, when suddenly a -new change came over the beautiful girl. She had been studying hard -and diligently, and strange books fell into her hands. It seemed as if -from intellectual culture, new sources of happiness became opened to -her. It might, indeed, be that pride came to her aid--that she -resolved to cast away all thoughts of a man she deemed unworthy of -her. It might be that she sought to cheer and solace her father. And -yet there must have been something more, some stronger power at work -within, for she showed that she was not one of those "to love again -and be again deceived." Oh, no, she would not hear the very name of -love. - -The gayest, the brightest, the noblest, the most handsome strove for -one smile, one token of her favour, but in vain. Yet she came forth -from her solitude--she became the star of her father's little court. -Amid admiring eyes and looks that seemed almost to worship her, she -moved in beauty, but as cold as ice. Colour came back to her cheek, -light to her eye, roundness and symmetry to every limb. The sweet, -arching lips regained all their redness, but the heart seemed to have -lost its warmth for ever. - -The tenderness of the young girl, too, had apparently gone--the -timidity, the shyness of youth. Not that she was hard, unkind, or -harsh--oh, far from it. She was an angel of mercy in that city of -Imola. She pleaded for the prisoner, turned often aside the blow from -those appointed to die, solaced the sick and the needy. Her own great -wealth, left solely to her disposal, raised up many a drooping head, -cheered many a despairing heart. But now she dared to do what she -would have shrunk from in the years passed by. She would approach her -father, fearless, in his sternest moods, entreat, argue, remonstrate, -and often, by the power of her will, bend him from his most settled -purposes. Her beauty had acquired something of the character which her -mind now assumed, and it must have been now that those pictures we -have of her were taken. Though it was of the finest, the most -delicate, the most exquisitely engaging style both in line and -colouring, there was a dignity in the expression and in the whole air -which the canvas can but faintly convey; and yet who could gaze upon -her eyes, those wells of light, without seeing that there was some -marvellous self-sustaining power within. - -Leonora became fond, too, of the decoration of her person. Jewels, and -cloth of gold, and rich embroidery decked those lovely hands and arms, -or were wreathed in the clustering masses of her jetty hair, or -arrayed those graceful limbs; and her tire-women had no longer reason -to complain that she forgot her station or neglected her apparel as -they had once done. To them she was gentleness itself; but the suitors -who still would ask her hand could not but feel that their dismissal -had something of the sting of scorn in it. She strove to soften it, -but she could not; and the beautiful lip would curl, however mild the -words might be, as if she thought it strange that any man could think -she would condescend to bestow herself on him. - -It must be said, however, that no one had any right to complain of -having been led on to love merely to be refused. No approving smile -ever encouraged the first advance; and if the attentions were too -marked to be misunderstood, a sudden coldness gave the answer without -a word. Once only she showed her contempt plainly. It was when a -nobleman of pride and power declared he would appeal from her decision -to her father. She told him her father had no power to wed her to a -man whom she despised, and, if he ever had possessed it, he had given -her fate into her own hands long before. - -"I have his promise," she said--"a promise that, for good or bad, has -not yet been broken to human being--that he will never, even by word, -urge me to wed mortal man. So now go, my lord, and appeal to whom you -will, but let me not see you any more. I am no man's slave, not even a -father's." - -There were violent things done in Italy in those days; and I know not -whether it was some idle but threatening words, muttered by this bold -lover as he left her, or the rumour that Imola was soon to be visited -by Cæsar Borgia--the only being on earth she seemed to fear--that had -led her to a step which must be told. - -There was a monastery of Cistercian monks upon a hill some five miles -distant from Imola, and, in the early morning of a summer's day, a -gallant cavalcade of some eight horsemen and three women, with Leonora -at their head, stopped at the gates. She dismounted, and, bidding the -attendants wait, went in alone. She asked the porter to call Father -Angelo to her; but the old man, when he came, evidently knew her not. -He was a servile-looking, shrewd-eyed man, and her air, as well as her -attire, impressed him. "What is it, daughter?" he said. "Can I give -you any spiritual aid?" - -Leonora fixed her lustrous eyes upon him, and seemed to look into his -very heart. "No, father," she answered; "I have my own confessor, and -a holy and good man he is. It is aid of another kind I seek from you. -I have heard that you have cultivated much the natural sciences, know -all the secret virtues of herbs and minerals, and have prepared drugs -which will remove from earth a dangerous friend or a potent enemy." - -"But, daughter," said the monk, interrupting her, "these drugs are not -to be intrusted to girls and children, and----" - -"Hear me out," she said; "I seek none of these. What I demand, and -what I must have, is for my own defence. One I loved very well was -once injured by a poisoned weapon, and it took much skill and deep -knowledge to save his life. It struck me then, and it has often -occurred to my mind since, that a weapon so anointed were no poor -defence, even in a woman's feeble hand. Nay, more, that if placed -beyond all hope of safety, she might preserve herself from wrong by a -slight scratch, when her coward hand might fail to plunge the weapon -in her own heart. Once such a means might have been needful to me, -but, thank Heaven, another mode of escape was found. See here. I have -bought this dagger against time of need. The groove, you see, is -perfect, but I want that which makes it efficacious. That you must -give--sell me, I should have said, for you shall have gold enough; and -if any scruple linger in your mind, I promise you, by all I hold most -sacred, never to use it but in my own defence." - -"Well, there may be truth in what you say," replied the monk. "Rome is -not far off, and there are strange things, they tell me, taking place -in Rome. But you are a strange lady, and approach boldly matters that -even men treat with some circumlocution." - -"I do so because my purposes are holy," replied Leonora. "I have -nothing to conceal, because I have nothing to fear, good father. But -let us not waste time. Will a hundred ducats satisfy you?" - -"It should be a hundred and fifty," said the monk. "Such things are -dangerous, and our good father the pope has strictly forbidden the -sale of these drugs to anybody out of his own family." - -"Well, take the hundred and fifty," said Leonora. "Bring the poison -quickly, for my attendants will grow impatient." - -"But I must mark the phial 'Poison,'" he replied; "then, if you misuse -it, the fault is yours." - -"Mark it what you please," she answered. "Here is the money in this -purse when you bring the drug; but be speedy." - -The old man gazed into her eyes for a moment as if to read her real -purposes; then bidding her remain beneath the arch, he hurried away. -In a few minutes he returned with a small vial containing a white -powder, and not only gave it to her, but showed her how to apply it to -the blade of the dagger so that the slightest scratch would prove -fatal. "Mix it with water," he said, "and then a drop not bigger than -a drop of dew will do; and remember, daughter, this is no common drug, -such as vulgar, unlearned assassins use. Its effects are instant, -either taken by the lips or infused into the veins. Be cautious, -therefore; and mind, when you apply it, use a thick gauntlet." - -"There--there--there is the money," said Leonora, taking the vial -eagerly; and then she added, speaking to herself, "Now, man, I defy -you. I have my safety in my own hands," and, paying the monk the -money, she remounted her horse and rode down the hill. - -The old monk, while he counted the money carefully, gazed after her, -muttering to himself, "Now that is for some fair rival, belike, or -else for some faithless lover. Mayhap her husband has played her -false. Ay, Heaven help us! we have always some good excuse for -covering over our real intentions from the eyes of others. To save her -honour at the expense of her life! That is a likely tale indeed! We -have no Lucretias now-a-days except the pope's daughter, and she is a -Lucretia of another sort." - -Whatever the old man in his hardened nature might think, Leonora -d'Orco had no purpose but the one she stated. She had long felt the -necessity of the means of self-defence. She had long known that the -only dread she ever experienced now, would vanish if she possessed the -immediate power of life or death over an assailant or over herself. -The dagger she had bought in Florence some weeks after the burning of -the Villa Morelli, but she doubted her strength--not her courage--to -use it with effect. But when the least wound would prove fatal, the -weapon had a higher value. "One scratch upon my arm or upon his hand," -she said to herself, "and I am safe from worse than death." - -It must have been a terrible state of society which led a young girl -to contemplate such a resource as a blessing. I cannot venture to give -anything like a picture of that state. Suffice it that the fears of -Leonora d'Orco were not superfluous, nor her precautions without -cause. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - - -I have heard it said that the world is weary of the picturesque in -writing, tired of landscape painters, eager only for the tale or for -the characters--the pepper and salt of fiction. So be it. But yet -there is something in a scene--in the place, in the very spot where -any great events are enacted, which gives not only an identity, but a -harmony to the narrative of these events. Imola, with its old castle -and its sombre walls, now repaired and strengthened by the care of -Ramiro d'Orco, lay, like the hard and rugged stone of the peach, in -the centre of more sweet and beautiful things. - -That was the age of villa building in Italy, and, as I have shown in a -previous part of this work, some of the noblest architects that the -world ever produced had already appeared, and produced specimens of a -new and characteristic style, unsurpassed by any other efforts. Imola -was surrounded by villas, but there was one more costly and extensive -than any of the rest, which hung upon the hill-side, with gardens, and -terraces, and fountains round about. The villa now belonged to Ramiro -d'Orco, and thither he would often retire, after the labours of the -day were over, to walk, solitary and thoughtful, as was his wont, -under the great stone-pines which lined the avenue. - -It was the favourite home of Leonora; for, though she was so much -changed in every habit, if not in every thought, there was one -exception--she still loved to sit beneath the trees or upon a terrace, -whence she could see over a wide landscape. She no longer sought -absolute solitude, it is true; she suffered herself not to be plunged -into those deep fits of thought, which had been her only comfort -during Lorenzo's long absence at Naples. Usually she had one of her -maids with her, well-educated girls, who could converse, though not -very profoundly; and their light talk, though it did not always wean -her mind from the subjects on which it was bent, just sufficed to -ripple the too still waters of meditation. - -She was thus seated one afternoon, just in the beginning of the -autumn, in an angle of the gardens, whence she could see on all sides -around but one, with a girl named Carlotta at her feet. If there be -aught on earth which deserves the name of divine, it is the weather in -some parts of Italy when the summer has lost its full heat, and the -autumn knows nothing yet of wintry chill, when the grape is just -beginning to grow purple, and the cheek of the fig looks warm. Such -was that day, and it would seem that the balmy influence of the air -and the brightness of the scene had their influence upon poor Leonora, -bringing back some of the gaiety and sportiveness of other years. - -"So, foolish Carlotta," said her mistress, "you must needs go down to -the dusty town this morning--to see your lover, I warrant, and arrange -for this wedding I have heard of." - -Carlotta blushed and smiled, and said "Ay;" and her mistress gave her -a tap upon the cheek, exclaiming-- - -"Out upon you, silly girl! can you not be content without making -yourself a slave?" - -"It is woman's nature, lady," replied the girl; "we all like to be -slaves to those we love. I do believe that there is no woman who does -not wish to marry; and do you know, lady, that people wonder that you -have never given your hand to any one." - -"I!" exclaimed Leonora, with a start, and an expression almost of pain -upon her face; "I marry any one! I wish to marry any one! to be the -passive plaything of a rude boor--to be sported with at his will and -pleasure--to have the sanctity of my chamber invaded by a coarse man! -When I think of it, I cannot but marvel that any woman, with the -feelings of a woman, can so degrade herself." - -"The feelings of the woman prompt her, lady," said Carlotta; "but, do -you know, I saw a man at Mother Agostina's--that is, my Bernardino's -aunt--a courier just returned from France, and he told me that all the -people there say that you are married." - -"More likely to be buried, my Carlotta," replied Leonora; "but what -have the people of France to do with me?" - -"Why, they seem to have a great deal to do with Italy now," rejoined -the girl. "Since the pope's son has been to the place they call -Chinon, and has been made Duke of Valentinois by the new King of -France, that monarch seems to be as much pope in Rome as the Holy -Father himself. Have you not heard, lady, that a whole crowd of -Frenchmen--lords and knights, and such like--are coming over with some -chosen troops to help Alexander and the new duke to make up a great -duchy here in Italy for him who used to be a cardinal, and who is now -a soldier?" - -"No, I have heard nothing of it," replied Leonora; "doubtless my -father has, if the gossip be true." - -"Oh! it is quite true, lady," replied the girl; "all was in -preparation when Giacomo came away, and, besides, at the King of -France's desire, the pope has made one of these young lords Prefect of -Romagna. But he is Italian by birth, they say, and a cousin of the -King of France, and brings his beautiful young wife with him." - -Leonora rose from her seat and gazed into the girl's eyes for a moment -in silence, with a look that almost frightened poor Carlotta. "Did you -hear his name?" she asked, at length. - -"It was Lorenzo something," replied the girl; "Visconti, I think." - -Leonora turned away abruptly, and with a quick step climbed the hill, -entered the villa, and sought her own apartments. She passed through -the ante-room, and through that where her maids sat embroidering, -without speaking a word, and entering her own chamber, cast herself -down upon her bed and wept. - -"Fool! fool! fool that I am!" she cried, at length, starting up. "I -thought I had torn it out by the roots; but it is there still." - -She drew the dagger, in its sheath of velvet and gold, from her bosom, -gazed at it for a moment and murmured, - -"Only this, or what this gives, can root it out; but no, no, I am not -mad. This will all pass away. I will conquer it now--even now. I may -have to see him again! Then I will look upon him now, as he was when I -believed him faithful and true, as he was when he seemed all that was -noble and just," and, opening a drawer in the table, she took forth a -small, beautiful gilded frame, in the centre of which appeared the -sketch of Lorenzo which had been drawn by Leonardo da Vinci. "Ah! -picture," she said, gazing at it, "how often hast thou been my comfort -and solace in other hours--ay, even to the last; for who could gaze -upon that noble face and think the soul so base! Lorenzo! Lorenzo! you -have made my misery! Pray God that you have not made your own too. -What has become of good Leonardo's auguries? what of his dream, that -by the features you could read the spirit? But it matters not. I will -steel myself to meet you, should you come--to gaze upon this fair wife -you have preferred to Leonora, and who, men say, is so light, and so -unworthy of the man I thought you. Perhaps she may suit you better -than I should have done; for God knows she cannot be more fickle than -you are. Yes, the momentary madness is passing away. I shall soon be -myself again, and will play my part to the end, let it be what it -may." - -"Madam, a cavalier below desires to see you," said a servant, opening -the door abruptly. Leonora started with a look almost of terror, for -her mind was so full of one object that she thought the stranger could -be no other than Lorenzo; but the servant went on: "He says his name -is Leonardo da Vinci, and that you know him." - -"This is strange," said Leonora to herself; and then turning to the -man she added, "take him to my own saloon, and see that he and his -servants be well cared for. I will be down in a few moments." - -She washed away the marks of tears from her eyes, brushed smooth her -hair, and then descended the short flight of steps which led as a -private way from her chamber to the gorgeous room below, which was -known and held sacred as her own saloon. She found the great painter -standing in the midst, and gazing at some fine pictures which -ornamented the walls. - -"Welcome, signor," she said--"most welcome to Imola. No other house -must be your home while you are here than this, or my father's palace -in the citadel." - -"Your pardon, bright lady," said Leonardo, gazing at her, "my home is -ever an inn, and I cannot sacrifice my liberty even to you." - -"You are wise, maestro," answered Leonora, somewhat gravely. "No man -should sacrifice his liberty to a woman, nor any woman to a man. It is -a new creed I have got, but I think it is a good one." - -"Old creeds are best," replied Leonardo, seriously. "We can advance -from one to another, as we can mount the steps of a temple to the holy -of holies, but each step must be founded upon that which went before, -and each must rest upon truth." - -"Alas! where shall we find truth?" asked Leonora; and then she added, -in a melancholy but sweet tone, "Let us not approach painful subjects, -my good friend. We cannot meet without thinking of them. If we speak -of them we shall think of them still more. I know that truth is in my -own heart--where else I know not." - -"Perhaps where you least think," replied the painter; "but you are -right, lady. Could it do any good, I might speak even of the most -painful things; but where the irrevocable seal is fixed it is vain to -explain--vain to regret. You are as beautiful as ever, I see, but with -that change which change of thought and feeling brings. I have come to -paint your picture; and I can paint it now better than I could when we -last met." - -"Indeed! How so?" asked Leonora. - -"Because it is easier to paint matter than spirit--angel or demon, as -the case may be--which, transfusing itself through the whole frame, -breathes from the face and animates every movement. Again, at other -times, it leaves the human tenement vacant, or sits retired in a -corner of the heart, pondering the bitterness of life. Mere animal -life then acts and carries us through the business of existence; but -the sentient, feeling soul is dead or entranced, and pervades not the -face or limbs with that varying beauty which is so difficult for the -painter to seize and to transfer. I can paint you better now than -formerly; and the painting to the common eye will be more beautiful, -but to mine and to the poet's there may be a lack of something--of -that expression of soul which the features require for harmony--and -yet it is not entirely wanting. When you first came in, there was a -rigidity about your look, as if you mastered some emotion. Now there -is more light, as if there were emotion still. You must have suffered -agitation lately. Forgive me. I am a rough, plain-spoken man, too apt -to give counsel where it is not sought, and to note feelings people -would wish concealed." - -"You see too deeply and too well," replied Leonora; "but still I say, -maestro, let us not converse on such things. The past is dead. The -present, alas! has no life in it for me. Emotion is the most transient -of all things with me. Like a stone dropped by a boy into a still -lake, it may go deep but ripples the surface only for a moment, and -all is still again. If you wish my portrait, take it; but let not our -thoughts be saddened while the work is beneath your hand by memories -of other days, when happiness gave that spirit to my face which, as -you judge rightly, has departed for ever. Let us talk of art, of -science--what you will, in short; for I have studied much since last -we met, and can encounter you with more knowledge, but not less -humility; but let us speak no more of buried feelings, the very ghosts -of which bring fear and anguish with them." - -"Alas! that it should be so, sweet lady," replied Leonardo; "but, sad -as may be your fate, there may be others, seemingly more happy, who -are more miserable still. - -"Nay, I am not miserable," she answered; but then, recollecting the -keen insight of the man she spoke to, she paused and added, "If I am, -'tis but in fits. As an old wound, I am told, long healed, will smart -with a change of weather, so at times my heart will ache when -something comes to weaken it. But enough of this, maestro. Look at -those pictures on the wall. Those three are by one hand, and that the -hand of a youth. Are they not beautiful?" - -"Nay, they are sublime," replied Leonardo. "Who is the painter? He -will one day be one of the mighty men of his day." - -"His name is Buonaroti Simoni," replied Leonora, "I brought them with -me from Florence. My father has two more, which he will show you." - -She thus changed the subject to one of colder interest; but when -Leonardo left her, some of his words lingered in her mind, and brought -back to her thoughts things which had better been forgotten. - -"'Perhaps I might find truth where I least thought,'" said Leonora to -herself. "Those were his words. What can he mean? 'There may be those, -seemingly more happy, who are more miserable still.' There is -something beneath all this; but it is vain--vain--all vain. I will -think of it no more;" and yet she thought. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - - -"Prefect of Romagna!" said Ramiro d'Orco to himself, walking up and -down his private cabinet in the castle of Imola; "that may create a -conflict of jurisdictions with the vicars of the Church. It is an -awkward office to give or to hold." - -He spoke in a low voice to himself, and though his words were serious, -and implied a difficulty of some magnitude, there was an unwonted -smile upon his lip, as if there was something that satisfied him well. - -He rang a little silver bell which stood upon the table, and when a -servant appeared, ordered him to seek for Father Peter and bring him -thither. The man was a long time absent, but Ramiro d'Orco sat -quietly, with that well-pleased smile on his lip, gazing at some -papers before him, but quite unconscious of the characters with which -they were covered. What were his meditations, who can say? for some -smiles are not altogether pleasant; and his was far from being benign. - -At length the friar appeared--now in reality a friar, for there were -strange transformations in those days; assassins sometimes became -friars, and friars were not unfrequently assassins. - -"Sit, good father, sit," said Ramiro d'Orco, "I have news for you." - -"Good news, I hope, my lord," replied Mardocchi. "I have some news for -you, too; but mine is not the best; however, it matters but little." - -"Mine matters much," said Ramiro d'Orco. "What think you, Mardocchi? -Our friend, Lorenzo Visconti, has been appointed by the pope, at the -instigation of Louis XII., King of France, Prefect of Romagna, and is -about, in this fine weather, to make a tour through the exarchate and -the legations. He must come to Imola of course; and I have letters -here from that high and mighty prince Cæsar, Duke of Valentinois, -requiring me, by the favour in which I stand with him, to receive the -prefect with all due honour, and to make his time pass pleasantly. We -will do it, Mardocchi--we will do it; for, although there is a very -palpable hint in Borgia's missive that no harm is to be done to the -cousin of King Louis, yet, perhaps, we can so manage that he shall -find means to harm himself. He has an army at his back to help Cæsar -Borgia in carving out a principality from the heart of Italy; but the -vicars of the Holy See, and I as the humblest of them, must reverently -crave his Holiness to spare us the burden of the prefect's troops. We -will receive him gladly with a noble train, but methinks we cannot -admit an armed French force within our walls." - -"Of course," replied Mardocchi, "that would be selling yourself to the -devil without pay. But I should think he would not come to Imola. He -cannot like to show himself before your eyes--and, if he did come, it -would be somewhat painful to the signora your daughter." - -"He will come--he will come," replied Ramiro; "and he shall be -gallantly received. Fêtes and festivals shall greet him; he shall have -every reverence and every joy. He shall be taught to think that we can -forget as easily as he can; but he shall find that to slight the -daughter of Ramiro d'Orco is to tread upon an asp. As for my Leonora, -she has a proud and a noble heart. I have seen all the struggles--I -have marked the terrible conflict in her breast, and she has come out -victorious. My word for it, she will meet the young prefect and his -fair wife with all calm courtesy, greet him as an old friend, and seem -never to remember that he betrayed her unsuspecting heart, slighted -her love, and left her to disappointment and regret." - -"That is all very good for the beginning," said Mardocchi, who was -quite a practical man; "but how does your lordship intend to proceed -in the more weighty part of the business? This Lorenzo Visconti is not -so easily reached as people might suppose. I told you how he killed my -friend and lord, Buondoni, under the very nose of the Duke of Milan--a -better man than Signor Buondoni never lived--and, if my advice had -been taken, and a dagger used instead of a sword, the youth would not -have troubled us any more; but Buondoni was always fond of the sword, -and of doing things openly, and so----" - -"I know the whole history better than even you do, my friend," replied -Ramiro d'Orco; "Buondoni did like the sword, but he liked it well -anointed, and this Lorenzo would have died had I not cured him. His -life is mine, for I saved it for him; but as to how I shall proceed I -cannot yet determine. That must depend upon the time and circumstances -of his coming; but I have thought it needful to have you warned and -prepared in the matter; for on your skill and assistance I rely, and -you know I never forget services rendered any more than offences -given." - -Mardocchi made no answer for a few minutes, but remained gazing in -silent thought upon the ornamented floor, until, at length, Ramiro -exclaimed: - -"You make no answer, friar; what are you thinking of?" - -"I was thinking," said Mardocchi slowly, "of what a glorious thing it -would be if we could so entangle him that we could make him not only -forfeit his own life, but also that honour and renown of which he is -so proud. Such things have been done, my lord, and may be done again. -I have heard that when Galeazzo was Duke of Milan, he got a cavalier -to poison his own sister to save her honour, as he thought, then -proved the crime upon him, and put him to the rack. Now, this Lorenzo, -if I have heard rightly, cares little for mere life--nay, would almost -thank the man who took it from him." - -"Why so?" asked Ramiro, sharply, a sudden doubt flashing across his -mind, like a light in a dark night lost again as soon as seen; "why -so, friar?" - -"If there be any truth," said Mardocchi, fully on his guard, "in the -reports brought by the followers of the great duke from France, this -wife whom he has wedded is as light a piece of vanity as ever made a -husband miserable. Nothing has been proved against her, but there are -many suspicions of her faithlessness. She is ever followed by a train -of lovers, giving her smiles now to the one, now to the other. -Visconti feels the wound with all the bitterness of a proud heart, but -cannot find the cure. In the meanwhile he bears himself carelessly, as -if he thought not of it; but Antonio Pistrucci, Duke Cæsar's under -purse-bearer, assured me that the young man was weary of his life, and -that, at the storming of a castle in Navarre, he so clearly sought to -lose it that the whole army saw his purpose. What I would infer, my -lord, is this: if you give him merely death, you give him what he -wants, and he remains unpunished but if you give him dishonour too, -you inflict all that other men feel in death, and something more -besides." - -"That were hard to accomplish," said Ramiro d'Orco, rising, and pacing -backward and forward in the room; "I see not how it can be done." - -"We have time to think, my lord," replied the friar; "leave me to -devise a scheme. If my brain be better than a mouldy biscuit, I will -find some means. If I fail, we can always recur to the ordinary plan." - -"Well, ingenuity does much," said Ramiro d'Orco; "and, as you say, -Mardocchi, there is time to consider our plans well. But you mentioned -news you had to bring me: what may be their purport?" - -"'Tis no great matter," answered Mardocchi; "but it bears upon the -very subject we have spoken of. As I came hither at your lordship's -order, I saw, riding in by the Forli gate, no other than an old friend -of mine, one Antonio, whom you know well, for he procured me the -honour of your service. I know not whether he is a follower of this -Lorenzo still, but I should think he is; and if I can find him in the -city, where he must stop at least to bait his horse, I can perhaps -procure information which may be serviceable." - -"Serviceable indeed," replied Ramiro d'Orco, with more eagerness than -he was accustomed to show; "hasten down, good friar. See where he -lodges; obtain all the news you can from him. What we most want is -information of this young man's plans and purposes. That once -obtained, we can shape our own course to meet them. But remember, my -good Mardocchi, this man, this Antonio, is a personage to be treated -warily. He is shrewd and far-seeing. You must guard well every word -you say." - -"I know him well, my lord," replied Mardocchi. "We were at school -together when we were boys, and he is not much changed since. But I -will not waste time in talking. He was riding fast when I saw him, and -perhaps he may only stop to bait his horse and get some food for -himself." - -Thus saying, Mardocchi left the room, and proceeded straight from the -castle through the sort of esplanade that lay before the gates, and -into the town. He walked fast, but with a meditative air; and it must -be remembered that he had many things to consider. - -When there is in the human heart a consciousness of evil done, there -is always more or less fear; and his first thoughts were directed to -calculate what where the chances of explanations taking place between -Lorenzo Visconti and Ramiro d'Orco if they ever met again on familiar -terms. - -He soon saw, however, that those chances were small; that Lorenzo, by -his marriage, had placed a barrier between the present and the past, -that was not likely to be overleaped; and that while he was certain -never to seek explanations himself, there was as little probability of -Ramiro or Leonora either giving or receiving them. - -"Besides," he argued, "if all the explanations in the world took -place, they can prove nothing in the world against me." - -The next consideration that presented itself was the promise he made -Antonio to practise nothing against his lord's life; and though it may -seem strange that a man so utterly unscrupulous should attach such -importance to an adherence to his word, yet we see such anomalies -every day in human character, and in his case it might easily be -explained, if we had time or space to bestow upon it. - -Suffice it, however, to say, in a few words, that this adherence to -his word, once pledged, was the only virtue he had retained through -life. A stubborn adhesion to his resolutions of any kind had -characterized him even as a boy, and it had become a matter of pride -with him to abide by what he had said. The difficulty with him now was -that Ramiro d'Orco would indubitably require assistance from his own -hand in taking vengeance upon Lorenzo Visconti, if some means could -not be found to betray the young nobleman into some dangerous act -which would fall back upon his own head. - -This scheme had flashed suddenly through his mind while conversing -with Ramiro; and he saw in it the only means of escaping from the -breach of his word, or the acknowledgment of scruples which he knew -would be treated with contempt. The plan when he first suggested it, -was without form or feature; but now his busy and crafty brain eagerly -pursued the train, and a thousand schemes suggested themselves, some -of which were feasible, some wild and hopeless. - -During all this time, however, he forgot not his immediate errand. He -watched everything passing in the street around him, and looked in at -the two small taverns in the street of the citadel. There was a better -inn, however, on the small square by the bishop's palace, where were -also most of the best houses of the city, and thither Mardocchi bent -his way. On reaching it, he entered the great court-yard, and inquired -if any strangers had arrived that day. - -"Yes, father," replied the ostler to whom he spoke, "some seven or -eight; one gentleman, with four or five servants and three sumpter -mules, and two or three other persons." - -"I will go into the stable and see the horses, my son," said -Mardocchi. "You know I am fond of a fine beast, and my own mule has -not its match in Imola." - -The two strolled onward to the stable door, conversing familiarly, as -was the custom with friar and citizen in those days; and Mardocchi -passed down the line of stalls, discussing the merits of the horses, -till at length he laid his hand upon the haunch of a fine grey barb, -saying, "I want to see the man who rode this horse." - -"He is within, at dinner in the hall," answered the ostler. "He came -himself to see his horse fed while they got ready for him. He is a -careful signor, and marks everything he sees. He told me in a minute -that those other horses belong to the great maestro Leonardo da Vinci -though he did not know him, for they passed each other close without -speaking." - -"I will go in and see him," said the friar; and entering the inn by -the back way, he strolled into the dining-hall with an indifferent and -purposeless look, as if there was no object in his coming. - -Antonio was sitting alone at a table, with his back towards the door -by which Mardocchi entered; but the tread of the latter upon the -rushes which strewed the floor made the other turn sharply round as he -came near. - -"Ah! Signor Antonio, is that you?" exclaimed Mardocchi; "why what, in -Fortune's name, brings you to Imola?" - -"Well met, father---father what is your name? for, by my faith, I have -forgotten," cried Antonio, keeping his eye fixed upon him more firmly -than Mardocchi altogether liked; "and what brings you to the Keys of -St. Peter? I thought that taverns and public-houses were forbidden to -your sacred calling except in time of travel." - -"Many things are forbidden that men do," replied Mardocchi, with a -laugh; "and my sacred calling does not prevent my throat from getting -dry. I came seeking a small flagon of the wine they have here, which -is the best in Italy. Have you tasted it?" - -"Good faith! no," answered Antonio; "I thought not to find anything -worth drinking in this small, dull place." - -"Then I will have a big flagon instead of a small one," rejoined -Mardocchi, "and you shall share it with me. Here, drawer! drawer! -bring me a big flagon of that same old Orvietto wine which I had when -last I was here. You mistake much, Signor Antonio, both as to the wine -and as to the place. It is no dull town, I can tell you, but as gay a -city as any in Italy." - -"It will be gayer before we have done with it," replied Antonio, "for -there are high doings where my lady is, and she will be here ere many -days are over." - -"Indeed!" said Mardocchi; "but taste that wine, my son--taste that -wine, and tell me if ever you drank better. Sour stuff we used to have -where I passed my novitiate. They were strict in nothing but that, -Antonio; but it was the rule of the order that the body must be -mortified in some way, and they judged that the wine way was the -safest; for, there being taverns not far off, a man might mend his -drink when he went out to buy for the convent." - -"By my faith! it is good, indeed," said Antonio, after a deep draught; -"if the meat be as good as the drink, we shall fare well." - -"Nowhere better," replied the friar; "woodcocks with bills that long, -and breasts that thick" (and he demonstrated the measures on his arm -and hand); "beef as fat and as juicy as if it had been cut out of an -abbot's sirloin; fish from the Adriatic and the brook for Fridays; and -now and then a wild-boar steak, which would make a hermit break Lent." - -"Well then, my lady will fare sumptuously, and I shall be spared -scolding the purveyors, as I was obliged to do at Forli," was -Antonio's reply. - -"But you speak only of your lady," remarked Mardocchi; "does not your -lord come likewise?" - -"That I cannot tell," answered Antonio; "I only know that she comes -first, and waits for him here, while he makes a tour through the -legations. He thinks the air of Rome too cool for her health, and, as -he is very careful of her, she comes hither." - -There was a sly humour in his speech which Mardocchi well understood; -and he asked, "But why did he choose Imola for her residence; because -he thought it was so dull, as you said just now?" - -"He did not choose it," replied Antonio; "no, no, 'twas she. He gave -her the choice of several cities around, and she chose Imola. She -knew, perhaps, it was the place he would least like; for some of the -good-natured babblers of the court had taken care to tell her of -certain passages in days past, and also that the lady of his early -love lived here. Madonna Eloise might think it would give him pain to -meet a dame who had treated him so unkindly, and so she chose Imola." - -"Theirs must be a sweet life, by all accounts," said the friar; "I -have heard a good deal of this matter before from men in the -cardinal's train when he went to France. They say she is unfaithful to -him." - -"Nay, nay, not unfaithful," replied Antonio, quickly, "but light -enough to make men think her so. But now, my good friend Mardocchi, -what makes you interest yourself so much in all this matter? You have -got over all old grudges by this time, I hope." - -"No," answered Mardocchi bluntly, "I never forget grudges or promises -either, Antonio. You tied my hands, or I would have sent your lord to -a better world long ago. I could have taken his life in the French -camp, just when he parted from the old Cardinal Julian; for I was -close behind them both, and nobody would have known it." - -"I should," replied Antonio, "for I know your handiwork, Mardocchi, -just as a connoisseur knows the touch of a great master's pencil. But -why should you bear him ill-will? His sword got you a much better -master than Buondoni." - -"That I deny," said Mardocchi; "besides, I am little with this Signor -Ramiro now; I am but a poor friar, and he is great lord." - -"Yes, but you are much with greater lords than he," said Antonio. "I -have heard of you in Rome, Mardocchi; and I could tell where you were -on certain nights which you wot of; but I am as secret as the grave, -my good friend. Now tell me how it fares with the Lady Leonora?" - -"Oh, she is well, and gay as a sunbeam," replied Mardocchi; "the life -and the delight of the city." - -"Methinks if I had treated a lover so, first broke his heart and then -driven him to wed without love, I should not be quite so happy," was -Antonio's answer. - -"It is strange," said the friar, in a natural tone; "but women are -full of wild caprices." - -"That is true, indeed," replied Antonio; "but she might at least -have written to say she had changed her mind--that her mood was -altered--that she had seen some one else she loved better." - -"Did she never write?" asked the friar. - -"He never received her letter, if she did," answered Antonio, in a -tone so peculiar that Mardocchi's cheek changed colour, not -unperceived by his companion. But Antonio instantly sought another -subject, and the conversation was prolonged for more than an hour. The -wine was very good, and both drank deep; but neither could persuade -the other to pass the bound where the brain becomes unsteady and the -tongue treacherous. When they rose to separate, the balance of -knowledge gained, however, was certainly on Antonio's side. He had -told nothing but what was known, or soon would be known to every one. -Neither had the monk in words; but Antonio gathered not his -intelligence from words. It was one of his quaint sayings that no two -things were so opposite as words and facts. But every look, every turn -of expression, every doubtful phrase, or endeavour to evade the point -or double round the question, gave him light; and by the time -Mardocchi left him, if he had not reached the truth, he had come -somewhat near it. - -True, he fancied that the friar had been but Ramiro's instrument in -breaking through the engagement between Leonora and her lover; but -that her letters had been stopped, and probably Lorenzo's intercepted, -he did not doubt. To a mind so keen as his this was a sufficient clue -to after discoveries; and while Mardocchi hurried back to the citadel -to tell Ramiro that Antonio would stay out the day, and was about to -hire the great Casa Orsina, next to the bishop's palace, for the -prefect's wife--that she would be in Imola in a few days, and that -Lorenzo's coming was uncertain, Antonio remained for half an hour in -thought. - -"No, no," he said to himself, "hers was true love, if ever I beheld -it; and he says she is gay, the life and soul of the place. That is -unnatural--she loves him still! And he, poor youth, loves her; and is -ever contrasting her in his mind with this light, half-harlot wife, -with whom it has pleased Heaven to curse him. I can see it in his eyes -when he looks at her--I can see it when she scatters round her smiles -on the gilded coxcombs of the court. Yet there must be something more -to discover, and, please God, I will discover it." - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - - -Days flew; the wife of the prefect arrived at Imola; Ramiro d'Orco -went out to meet her at a league's distance from the city; no honour, -no attention did he neglect; the guards at the gates received her -drawn up in martial array; and in the palace which had been engaged -for her, at the foot of the great staircase, Leonora waited with her -maids to welcome the young wife of him whom she had so tenderly loved. - -It was a strange meeting between these two girls--for both were yet -girls--neither twenty years of age. They both gazed upon each other -with curious, scrutinizing eyes; but their feelings were very -different. Eloise de Chaumont marvelled at Leonora's wonderful -beauty--at the profusion of her jetty hair--at the softened lustre of -her large, full, shaded eyes--at the delicate carving of the ever -varying features--at the undulating grace, flowing, with every -movement of her rounded, symmetrical limbs, into some new form of -loveliness. She thought, "Well, she is beautiful, indeed! No wonder -Lorenzo loved her. But, on my faith, she does not appear one to treat -any man cruelly. I should rather think she would yield at love's first -summons." - -Leonora, on the other hand, though she was calm and perfectly -composed, felt matter for pain in the gaze which Eloise fixed upon -her. She could plainly see that Lorenzo's wife knew of the love which -had once existed between him and herself. "Perhaps he himself had told -her of it--and how had he told it? Had he boasted that he had won her -heart and then cast her off? She would not believe it. Notwithstanding -all, she believed him to be noble still. He might be fickle; but -Lorenzo could not be base. Oh yes, fickle he was even to Eloise," she -thought. "From every report which had reached her, he had soon wearied -of her who had supplanted the first love of his heart." - -A certain wavering look of grief, which came from time to time into -the countenance of Eloise, showed that she too was somehow -disappointed, and a strange, unnatural bond of sympathy seemed to -establish itself between two hearts the most opposite in feelings and -in principles, the least likely, from circumstances, to be linked -together. - -They passed nearly an hour together; and Eloise promised on the -following day to come and partake of a banquet at the villa on the -hill. She had a sort of caressing way with her which was very winning; -and when Leonora told her she must go, for that Leonardo, the great -painter, waited her at home, she took the once promised bride of her -husband in her arms, and held her there for a moment, kissing her -cheek tenderly. "You are very beautiful," she whispered; "well may the -painter take you for his model!" - -Leonora blushed and disengaged herself; and, though she was still calm -as a statue externally, many an hour passed before her heart recovered -from the agitation of that interview. - -She was destined to feel more emotion, too, that day. Leonardo de -Vinci waited her as she expected, and at once proceeded to his work. -While Ramiro d'Orco remained, the painter was nearly silent; but as -soon as the baron was gone, he began to speak; and his speech was -cruel upon poor Leonora. He asked her many questions regarding her -late meeting with Lorenzo's wife, made her describe Eloise, and -commented as she spoke. - -Then he began to ask questions as to the past--not direct and -intrusive, but such as forced indirectly much of the truth from -Leonora regarding her own feelings and her view of Lorenzo's -conduct--and the painter meditated gloomily. He had not yet mentioned -Lorenzo's name, but at length it was spoken with a melancholy allusion -to the many chances, deceits, and accidents which might bring disunion -between two hearts both true. - -Leonora burst into tears, and, starting up, exclaimed, "I cannot--I -cannot, my friend. If you would have my picture, forbear! Come -to-morrow; to-day I can bear no more." - -So saying, she left the room, and Leonardo remained in thought, -sometimes gazing at the picture he had commenced, sometimes at the -pallet in his hand, figuring in fancy strange forms and glowing -landscapes out of the colours daubed upon it. But though the eye, and -the fancy, and the imagination had occupation, the reasoning mind, -which has a strange faculty of separating itself from things which -seem its attributes, nay, even parts of its essence, to the -superficial eye, was busy with matters altogether different. It was -engaged with Leonora and her fate. - -"This is strange--this is unaccountable," he thought; "she loves him -still; she always has loved him. She casts the blame of their -separation on him; and he--miserable young man!--thinks her to blame, -and has put a seal upon his own wretchedness by marrying yon light -piece of vanity whom I saw in Rome. Pride, pride! How much -wretchedness would be spared if people would condescend to explain; -and yet perhaps there has been some dark work under this; it must be -so, or some explanation would have taken place. I will search it to -the bottom. I will know the whole ere I am done. They cannot, they -shall not baffle me." - -He started up, laid down his pallet and his brushes, and then, after -gazing at the picture for a moment, took his way down the few steps -which led from Leonora's saloon down to a little flower-garden, shaded -by some pine-trees, in a quiet nook at the end of the terrace. Two -marble steps brought him to the terrace itself, and, hurrying along -its broad expanse, not without feeling and noticing the beauty of the -view, Leonardo reached the wide avenue, lined with stone-pines, which -led to the gates of the gardens. - -About half way down he met a man coming leisurely up; and, as his -all-noting eye fell upon him, the painter suddenly stopped, saying: - -"Who are you, my friend? I know your face right well, and yet I cannot -attach a name to it." - -"I know yours too, signor," replied the other; "but there is a -difference between Leonardo da Vinci, the great master, and poor -Antonio, the humble friend and servant of Lorenzo Visconti; the one -name will live for ever, the other will never be known. I met you and -spoke to you once or twice at Belgiojoso in happier days." - -"Ay, I recollect you now," said Leonardo; "but how happens it, my -friend, that you are going up to the villa of the Signor d'Orco and -his daughter?" - -"I was going to see the young signora," replied Antonio. "I do not -perceive why I should not. I have ever loved her in my humble way, and -love her still; for, to tell the truth, signer maestro, I cannot -believe that she has ever wilfully ill-treated one whom I love better -still." - -"Nor I--nor I, Antonio," cried the painter, eagerly grasping his arm; -"she believes that he has ill-treated her." - -"Nay, God knows, not that," replied Antonio. "Oh, had you seen how he -pined, signor, for the least news of her, or how his heart was torn -and moved when his letters were returned with nothing but a scrap of -her handwriting, contemptuous in its tone and meaning, you would know -at once he is not to blame." - -"Nor she either, by my hopes of Heaven!" cried Leonardo. "But come -with me, good friend--come with me. You cannot see the lady--she is -ill; and I have matter for your own private ear. There is some dark -mystery here, which I fain would unravel with your aid. I am resolute -to sound it to the very depth." - -"But how can we do that?" said Antonio; "those who have kept their -secrets so well and so long, are not likely to let it slip out of -their hands now. These are no babes we have deal with, signor, and if -Ramiro d'Orco is at the bottom of it, you might as well hope to see -through a block of stone as to discover anything that is in his mind." - -"He has no share in it, I think," answered Leonardo, after a moment's -thought. "He is a man moved solely by his ambition or his interests; -and all his interests would have led him to seek this marriage rather -than break it off. Not a man in Italy, who seeks to gain a seat upon -the hill of power, but looks to the King of France to lend a helping -hand, and this breach between his daughter and Lorenzo tends more to -Ramiro's destruction than his elevation. Do you not know some one who -has some ancient grudge or desperate enmity towards our young -prefect?" - -Antonio started as if some one had struck him a blow. The truth, the -whole truth, flashed upon his mind at once. - -"The villain!" he murmured; "but, to expose him altogether, and to -discover all, we must, we must be very careful. I do know such a man, -Signor Leonardo; but let us be very secret or we may frighten him. -Satan was never more cunning, Moloch more cruel. He was bred up in a -school of blood and craft, and we must speak of him in whispers till -we can grasp him by the neck. Let us be silent as we pass through the -town. There, at your lodgings in the inn, after seeing that all the -doors are closed, and no one eaves-dropping around, I will tell you -all I know, and leave you to judge if my suspicions are right." - -Not a word more was spoken; and as the results of the conversation -which took place between them after they reached the "Keys of St. -Peter" will be developed hereafter, it were mere waste of time to -relate it in this place. - -Some words, sad, but true, may, indeed, be noted. - -"For our own heart's ease," said Leonardo, "we had better solve all -doubts; but yet what skills it? They can never be happy. Lorenzo's -rash marriage puts an everlasting bar between them." - -"I will not only solve all doubts, but I will punish the traitor," -said Antonio; "for, if we let him escape he may do more mischief -still. He shall die for his pains, if my own hand does it. But I think -I have a better hold on him than that; I will make him over to a -stronger hand." - -That day came and went. There was a great banquet at the villa of -Ramiro d'Orco, which passed as such banquets usually do, and was only -marked by one expression of the Countess Visconti when she was led by -Leonora through her own private apartments. She was pleased -particularly with the beautiful saloon, and the sweet retired garden -on the terrace with the steps between. - -"Oh! what a charming spot to meet a lover!" she said, gazing -laughingly into Leonora's eyes. - -"I meet no lover here but my own thoughts," replied Leonora; and the -conversation dropped. - -The next day every one of distinction was invited to the house of the -young countess; and it seemed strange to Leonora to find there several -gentlemen, both French and Italian, arrived that day from Rome. They -were evidently very intimate with the fair Eloise, but she was -somewhat on her guard, and nothing appeared to shock or offend, -although Leonora thought: - -"If I had a husband, I would not waste so many smiles on other men." - -Balls, festas, parties of pleasure through the country round succeeded -during the ensuing week, chequered but not saddened by the news that -there had been hard fighting at Forli, where lay the army of the Duke -of Valentinois, assisted by the French under Lorenzo Visconti, and -that the town, besieged by them, still held out. Imola had never seen -such gay doings; and Leonora, at her father's desire, took part in all -the festivities of the time, admired, sought, courted, but apparently -indifferent to all. Strange to say she seemed at once to have won the -regard, if not the affections of Eloise Visconti. When there was no -gay flatterer near her, she must have the society of her beautiful -Leonora; and certainly there was something wonderfully engaging in -Eloise when she chose. There might be something in her manner, even -apart from her demeanour toward men, which created a doubt, a -suspicion in the bosom of a pure-minded woman; but yet it was soon -forgotten in her apparent child-like simplicity. - -Leonardo da Vinci did not seem to love her; her beauty was not of the -style that pleased him, and when asked to paint her portrait he -declined, alleging that he had undertaken more than he could -accomplish already. His portrait of Leonora made more progress in a -week than any work he had ever undertaken. The head was finished, the -limbs and the drapery sketched out; but when he had arrived at about -the tenth sitting, he requested to have easel and picture both brought -down to the citadel, where a large room was assigned to him. It -fatigued him, he said, to go to the villa every day; and, having -finished the face and head, the few more sittings which were required -could be given him there whenever he found it necessary to ask them. -Leonora willingly consented to come at his call; and for several days -he worked diligently for nearly twelve hours a day, shut up in the -hall where he painted, or in a small room adjoining, where he kept the -implements of his art. - -It was on Tuesday, the 19th of September, early in the morning, that -Leonora received a brief note from the great painter, loosely -translatable as follows: - - -"Most beautiful and excellent Lady,--Though to your perfections my -picture owes an excellence which the painter could never have given -from his mere mind, yet there are wants which time and observation -have enabled me to detect. Come to me, then, if it be possible, at -four this evening, and enable me to supply those graces which had -previously escaped me. Be as beautiful as possible, and, for that -object, as gay. Might I commend to you the depth of two fingers -breadths of that fine old Pulciano wine before you come? It heightened -your colour, I saw, when last you tasted it; and I want a little more -of the red in the cheek." - - -Leonora was punctual to the appointment, and Leonardo, meeting her at -the door of the hall, led her round by the back of the picture to the -small room I have mentioned, saying, "You must not see it now till it -is finished." Then, seating her in a large arm-chair, he stood and -gazed at her for a moment, saying, laughingly, "You must be content to -be stared at, for I wish to take down every shade of expression in the -note-book of my mind, and write it out upon the picture in the other -room." After a few minutes, changing her attitude once or twice, and -changing her hair to suit his fancy, he went out into the hall, and -engaged himself upon the picture. - -For some five minutes Leonora satin solitude, and all seemed silence -through the citadel. Then came some noise in the courtyard below--the -clatter of horses feet and voices speaking; and then some steps upon -the flight of stairs which led up to the grand apartments of the -castle. All these sounds were so usual, however, that in themselves -they could excite no emotion. But yet Leonora turned somewhat pale. -There was something in the sound of the step of one of those who -mounted the stairs which recalled other days to her mind. It might be -heavier, firmer, less elastic, but yet it was very like Lorenzo's -tread. Who ever forgets the footstep of one we have loved? - -Before she could consider long, Leonardo da Vinci came back to her, -and seeming to have noticed nothing that went on without, took his -place before her, and gazed at her again. He had nearly closed the -door behind him, but not quite, and the next moment a step was heard -in the adjoining hall, and some one speaking. - -"This is the saloon, my lord," said the voice of Antonio, opening the -door of the hall. "There it stands; and a masterpiece of art it is. I -will now tell the Signor Ramiro that you are here; but I will go -slowly, so you will have time." - -The well-know step sounded across the marble pavement of the hall, at -first firm and strong, then less regular, then weak and unsteady. - -Next came a silent pause, and Leonora could hear her heart beat in the -stillness; and then a voice was raised in lamentation. - -"Oh, Leonora! Leonora!" it cried, "had you been but as true as you are -beautiful, what misery would you have spared the heart that loved you -as never woman before was loved! Had you but told me to pour out the -last drop of life's blood in my veins at your feet, you had been kind, -not cruel; but you have condemned me to endless tortures for having -loved--nay, for loving you still too well!" - -Leonardo da Vinci took Leonora's hand as if he would have led her -towards the door, but she snatched it from him, and covered her eyes, -while her whole frame shook as if with an ague-fit. - -The speaker in the hall was silent; but then came once more the sound -of steps upon the stairs, and Lorenzo's voice exclaimed, "Oh, God! -have they given me but this short moment?" and his steps could be -heard retreating towards the door. Then the voice of Ramiro d'Orco was -heard saluting him in courteous terms, and the sound died away -altogether. - -Profound silence reigned in the hall and in the little room adjoining; -but at length Leonora took her hands from her eyes, and said, in a -mournful and reproachful tone, "If you have done this, you have been -very cruel." - -"I did it not," answered Leonardo; "but yet I am right glad it has -happened. You accuse him of having been faithless to you, he accuses -you of having been fickle to him. Both have been betrayed, my child. -Both have been true, though both may be wretched." - -"But what matters it to either of us?" said Leonora, almost sternly; -"the time has passed, the die is cast, and there is no retrieving the -fatal throw." - -"And yet," said Leonardo da Vinci, "to a fine mind, methinks it must -be a grand and noble satisfaction to discover that one we loved, but -doubted or condemned, had been accused unjustly--that we have not -loved unworthily--that the high qualities, the noble spirit, the -generous, sincere, and tender heart, were not vain dreams of fancy or -affection, but steadfast truths of God's own handiwork, which we had -reverenced and loved as the finest gifts of the Almighty Benefactor. -You may not feel this now, Leonora, in the bitterness of -disappointment, but the time will come when such thoughts will be -comfort and consolation to you--when you will glory and feel pride in -having loved and been loved by such a man." - -Leonora snatched his hand and kissed it warmly. "Thank you," she said, -"thank you. To-night or to-morrow I shall have to meet him in public, -and your words will give me strength. Now that I know him worthy as I -once thought him, I shall glory in his renown, as you have well said; -for my Lorenzo's spirit, I feel, is married to mine, though our hands -must be for ever disunited. Farewell, my friend, farewell. I will no -longer regret this accident; it has had its bitter, but it has its -sweet also;" and, clasping her hands together, she exclaimed almost -wildly, "Oh, yes, I am loved, I am loved--still loved!" - -She arose from her chair as if to go, but then, catching hold of the -tall back, she said, "Let me crave you, Signor Leonardo, bid some of -the attendants order my jennet round to the back of the palace. I am -wonderfully weak, and I fear my feet would hardly carry me in search -of them myself." - -"I will go with you to the villa," said Leonardo. "My horse is here -below. Sit you still in that chair till I return, and meditate strong -thoughts, not weak ones. Pause not on tender recollections, but -revolve high designs, and your mind will recover strength, and your -body through your mind." - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - - -On what a miserable thing it must be to return to a home, and to find -that the heart has none, the fond, true welcome wanting--the welcome -of the soul, not the lips. Oh, where is the glad smile! where the -cordial greeting! where the abandonment of everything else in the joy -of seeing the loved one return! Where, Lorenzo?--where? - -'Tis bad enough when we find petty cares and small annoyances thrust -upon us the moment our foot passes the threshold--to know that we have -been waited for to set right some trivial wrong, to mend some minute -evil, to hear some small complaint--when we have been flying from -anxieties and labours, and thirsting for repose and love, to find that -the black care, which ever rides behind the horseman, has seated -himself at our fireside before we could pull off our boots. 'Tis bad -enough--that is bad enough. - -But to return to that which ought to be our home, and find every -express wish neglected, every warning slighted, every care frustrated, -and all we have condemned or forbidden, done--that must be painful -indeed! - -The arrival of Lorenzo Visconti in Imola was unexpected; and his short -stay with Ramiro d'Orco but served to carry the news to the gay -palazzo inhabited by his wife, and create some confusion there. True, -when he entered the wide saloons, where she was surrounded by her own -admiring crowd, Eloise rose and advanced to meet him, with alight, -careless air of independence, saying, "Why, my good lord, you have -taken us by surprise. We thought you still at the siege of Forli." - -"Forli has capitulated, madame," replied Lorenzo, gazing round, and -seeing all those whom he wished not to see. "It was too wise to be -taken by surprise. But I am dusty with riding--tired too. I will -retire, take some repose, and change my apparel." - -Thus saying, he left the room. Eloise made no pretence of following -him; and, as he closed the door, he could hear her light laugh at a -jest--perhaps at himself--from some of her gay attendants. - -Oh, how his heart sickened as, led by Antonio, he trod the way to the -apartments of his wife! - -"Leave me, Antonio," he said, "and return in an hour. There, busy not -yourself with the apparel. Heaven knows whether I shall want it. Leave -me, I say!" - -"When you have leisure, my lord, I would fain speak a word or two in -your private ear," said Antonio; "you rode so fast upon the road I -could not give you some information I have obtained." - -"Regarding whom?" asked Lorenzo, with a frowning brow; "your lady?" - -"No, my lord, regarding the Signora d'Orco," replied the man. - -But Lorenzo merely waved his hand for him to depart; and when he was -gone, pressed his hands upon his burning temples, and sat gazing on -the ground. His head swam; his heart ached; his mind was irresolute. -In his own soul he compared Leonora d'Orco with Eloise de Chaumont. He -asked himself if, fickle as she had shown herself to be, Leonora, once -his wife, would have received him so on his return from labour and -dangers. - -He remembered the days of old, and answered the question readily. But -then he turned to bitterer and more terrible inquiries. Was his wife -faithful to him? or was he but the butt and ridicule of those whom, -contrary to his plainest injunctions, she had brought from Rome? - -He was of no jealous disposition. By nature he was frank and -confiding; but her conduct had been such--was such, that those -comments, so hard to bear--those suspicions, that sting more terribly -than scorpions, had been busy round his ears even at the court of -France. - -In vain he had remonstrated, in vain had he used authority. He found -her now, as he had left her in Rome, lighter than vanity itself. That -accident, propinquity, and some interest in the accident she had -brought upon him, with the vanity of winning one who had been -considered cold and immovable, had induced her to give him what little -love she could bestow on any one, and confirm it with her hand, he had -long known. Long, too, had he repented of his rash marriage; but that -carelessness of all things, that weariness of the world, that longing -for repose, even were it the repose of the grave, which Leonora's -fancied fickleness had brought upon him, had not been removed by his -union with Eloise de Chaumont. A thousand evils had been added--evils -the more terrible to a proud, high mind. He had never expected much; -but he had believed Eloise innocent, though thoughtless; tender and -affectionate, though light. But he had not found the tenderness after -the ring was on her finger; and the very semblance of affection had -soon died away. - -"What was there on earth worth living for?" he asked himself; "what -was there to compensate the pangs he endured--the burthen he bore. -Nothing--nothing. Life was only not a blank because it was full of -miseries." - -Thus he sat, with a wrung heart and whirling brain, for nearly half an -hour. At length he took a picture from his bosom--one of those small -gems of art which the great painters of that and the preceding age -sometimes took a pride in producing--and gazed upon it earnestly. It -was the portrait of a very beautiful woman (his own mother), which the -reader has seen him receive from Milan. He thought it like Leonora -d'Orco; but oh! that mother was faithful and true unto the death. She -had defended her own honour, she had protected herself from shame, she -had escaped the power of a tyrant, by preferring the grave to -pollution. - -He turned to the back of the picture, now repaired, and read the -inscription on it, "A cure for the ills of life." - -"And why not my cure?" asked Lorenzo of his own heart; "why should I -not pass from misery and shame even as my mother did?" - -He pressed the spring, and the lid flew open. There were the fatal -powders beneath, all ready to his hand. - -He was seated in his wife's room, and among many an article of costly -luxury on the table were a small silver cup and water-pitcher. Lorenzo -stretched out his hand to take the cup, laying the portrait with the -powders down while he half filled the cup with water. But, ere he -could take a powder from the case, Antonio re-entered. - -"The hour has passed, my lord, and I do hope you will now hear me," he -said. "I have to tell you that which, perhaps, may be of little -comfort, but is yet important for you to know." - -"Speak on, my good Antonio," said Lorenzo, in a gentler tone than he -had lately used; for the thoughts of death were still upon him, and to -the wretched there is gentleness in the thoughts of death. "What is it -you would say? I am in no haste;" and he set down the cup upon the -table by the picture. - -"My lord, we have been all terribly deceived," said Antonio; "you, I, -the Signora Leonora--all. While you have thought her false and fickle, -she has believed you the same." - -"Antonio!" exclaimed his lord, in a reproachful tone, "Antonio, -forbear. Try not to deceive me by fictions." - -"My lord, I stake my life upon the truth of what I say," replied -Antonio. "I have seen a maid whom she hired in Florence after the rest -had left her--those who were carried away from the Villa Morelli, and -never heard of more. I had my suspicions; and, after having won her -good graces, I questioned the girl closely. Signora d'Orco wrote to -you often--sent letters by any courier that was going to France--wept -at your silence--pined, and nearly died." - -"But I wrote often," said Lorenzo. - -"Your letters never reached her, nor hers you," replied the man; "by a -base trick----" - -"But her handwriting!" exclaimed Lorenzo, "her own handwriting! I saw -it--read it." - -"I know not what that handwriting implied, my lord," was the answer; -"but perhaps, if you were to examine it closely, you might find either -that it was not hers, or that, thinking you false and forsworn, she -wrote in anger, as you have spoken and thought of her." - -Lorenzo meditated deeply, and then murmured, "It may be so. O God! if -this be true!" - -"It is true, my lord, by my salvation," replied Antonio; "I have the -whole clue in my hands. The Signor Leonardo da Vinci, too, knows all, -and can satisfy you better than I can." - -"Is he here?" asked Lorenzo, in a tone of melancholy interest, -remembering the happy house at Belgiojosa. "If he be convinced, there -must be some truth in it. But tell me, Antonio, what fiend has done -this? It cannot surely be Ramiro d'Orco?" - -"Oh no," replied the man; "but ask me no more, my lord, at present. -See the Signor Leonardo. He and I have worked together to discover -all, and he will tell you all. Well may you call the man a friend; but -I am on his traces, like a staghound, and I will have my fangs in his -flanks ere long. Let the maestro tell you, however. I only wished to -let you know the truth, as the Signora Leonora is even now with her -father below, and you must meet her presently. You could not meet the -faithless as the faithful; and she is true to you, my lord--has been -ever true." - -Lorenzo started up. "Leonora here!" he exclaimed; "I must see her---I -will see her. Where leads that door, Antonio?" - -"To the room reserved for your lordship's toilet," replied the man. - -"Quick! send my varlets up," cried the master; "I will but shake off -this dust and go down." - -"Better appear as becomes you, my noble lord," replied Antonio; "there -is a splendid company below--indeed, there always is when the countess -receives her guests. Your apparel is all put forth and ready. To dress -will but take you a few minutes." - -"Well, be it so," said Lorenzo; "bring me those lights, my good -Antonio;" and he walked straight to the door of the dressing-room, -leaving his mother's portrait and the poison on the table. He -remembered it once while going down the stairs after dressing, -but there was too much eagerness in his heart for him to return -to take it then, and from that moment events and--more engrossing -still--feelings hurried on so rapidly, he forgot entirely his purpose -of going back for the portrait at an after period. - -The entrance of the young prefect into his wife's splendid saloons -caused no slight movement among the many guests there present. His -noble and dignified carriage, the strange air of command in one so -young--an air of command obtained as much by sorrows endured, -and a manly struggle against despair, as by the habit of -authority--impressed all the strangers in the room with a feeling -going somewhat beyond mere respect. But there was one there present -whose feelings cannot be described. He was to her, as it were, a -double being--the Lorenzo of the past, the Lorenzo of the present. The -change in personal appearance was very slight, though the youth had -become the man. The dark, brown curling beard, the greater breadth of -the shoulders, the powerful development of every limb, and perhaps -some increase of height, formed the only material change, while -the grace as well as the dignity was still there. In the ideal -Lorenzo--the Lorenzo of her imagination--the change was, of course, -greater to the eyes of Leonora. He was no longer her own--he was no -longer her lover--he was the husband of another--there was an -impassable barrier between them; but that day had diminished the -difference. She now knew that he was as noble as ever, that he had not -been untrue to her without cause, that he had loved her faithfully, -painfully, sorrowfully (she dared not let her mind dwell on the -thought that he loved her still); and there was a sort of a tie -between her heart and his, between the present and the past, produced -by undeserved grief mutually endured. - -Oh! how she longed to tell him that she had never been faithless to -him--that she had loved him ever! Again, she did not dare to admit -that she loved him still. - -Yet she commanded herself wonderfully. She had come prepared; and she -had long obtained the power of concealing her emotions. That she felt -and suffered was only known to one in the whole room. She clung more -tightly to her father's arm, her fingers pressed more firmly on it; -and Ramiro d'Orco felt all she endured, and imagined more. He said not -a word indeed to comfort or console her, but there were words spoken -in his own heart which would have had a very different effect if they -had found breath. - -"The day of vengeance is coming," he thought--"is coming fast;" but -his aspect betrayed no emotion. - -Lorenzo took his way straight to where the Lord of Imola and his -daughter stood, close by the side of his own wife; and Eloise laughed -with a gay, careless laugh, as she saw the sparkle in her husband's -eyes. - -"This is my friend, the Signora d'Orco," she said; but Lorenzo took -Leonora's hand at once, saying, "I have long had the happiness of -knowing her;" and he added (aloud, though in a somewhat sad and -softened tone) words which had only significance for her; they were: -"I have known her long, though not as well as I should have known -her." - -He stood and spoke with Leonora herself for some moments. He referred -no farther to the past, for the icy touch of her hand on that warm -night told him plainly enough that she was agitated as far as she -could endure, and he strove to diminish that agitation rather than -increase it. - -He then turned to Ramiro d'Orco, saying, "My Lord of Imola, I will -beseech you to go with me through the rooms, and introduce me to the -noble gentlemen and ladies of your city." - -Ramiro d'Orco was all graciousness, and led him from one to another, -while Eloise with some malice, whispered in Leonora's ear: - -"He is marvellously handsome, is he not? When you were standing -together the Count do Rouvri whispered me that you were the two most -beautiful personages in Italy." - -"He is a poor judge and a poor courtier," replied Leonora; and the -conversation dropped. - -She had now fully recovered her composure, and she thanked God that -the trying moment was over. Numbers flocked round her, gay words and -pleasant devices passed, and all that fine wit for which the Italians -were famous, displayed itself. Nor did Leonora do her part amiss, -although it must be owned her thoughts sometimes wandered, and her -words were once or twice somewhat wide of the mark. - -At length the prefect and Ramiro d'Orco returned, and then began -arrangements for the following day. It seemed understood that on -alternate nights the Lord of Imola and the lady of the prefect should -entertain the nobility of the city and the district round, and their -meeting for the following evening had been fixed for rather an early -hour at the villa on the hill, before Lorenzo's unexpected arrival at -Imola. Eloise, however, who was not without her caprices, thought fit -to change the arrangement, declared that she was weary of so much -gaiety, felt herself somewhat indisposed, and would prefer a day of -rest, if it were not inconvenient to the Signor d'Orco to postpone his -festa till the following day. - -Ramiro d'Orco declared that, on the contrary, the change would be -convenient to him, for that he was bound to go, either on the morrow -or the day after, to hold a court of high justiciary at a small town -just within his vicariate, and that he could not return the same -night. - -"I will set out to-morrow, my lord," he said, "and shall be back early -on the following day. In the mean time, I must leave my daughter here -to do the honours of the city to you and your fair lady; and if she -fails in any point, she shall be well rated at my return." - -Thus saying, he and Leonora took their leave; but the festivities in -Lorenzo's house continued long. He himself was present to the last, -although his presence certainly did not throw much gaiety upon the -scene. To the citizens of Imola he was attentive and courteous, but to -the crowd of butterflies who had followed Eloise from Rome, without -being repulsive, he was cold and distant. When the last guest was -gone, he and his wife took their several ways, she to her chamber, he -to his dressing-room; and, long after she had retired to rest, she -heard her husband's voice conversing eagerly with Antonio. - -"Talking over my foibles, I suppose," said Eloise to herself; "I wish -I could hear what they say;" and she raised herself up in bed to go -towards the door, but she felt weary, and her natural indifference got -the better of her curiosity. She sank back upon her pillow, and soon -was buried in sleep. - -The conversation of which she had heard the murmur had no reference to -herself. Lorenzo questioned his humble friend in regard to the facts -he had mentioned in the earlier part of the evening, and many -and varied were the feelings which the intelligence he received -produced--deep and bitter regret, some self-reproval, and a sensation -which would have resembled despair had not a sort of dreamy, moonlight -joy, to know that he had been still beloved, pervaded all his thoughts -with a cold but soothing light. He sought to know on whom the -suspicions of Antonio and Leonardo fixed as the agent of all his -misery, but the good man refused to satisfy him. - -"Leave him to me, my lord," he said; "I have means of dealing with him -which you have not. I will only beseech you tell me how long the great -Duke of Valentinois remains at Forli, and to give me leave to absent -myself for a day or two at any time I may think fit." - -"Oh, that you have, of course," replied Lorenzo. "Did I ever restrain -you, Antonio? As to Borgia, he will most probably remain a month at -Forli. I left him as soon as the place capitulated; for I love him -not, although my good cousin, King Louis, is so fond of him. Well, -policy, like necessity, too often brings the base and the noble -together. But, as the capitulation imported that the town would -surrender, if not relieved, in three days, and I know that De Vitry is -on his march with three thousand men, which will render relief -impossible, I thought I might very well leave this good lord duke to -watch the city by himself. He is an extraordinary, a great, and a -mighty man, but as bad a man as ever the world produced--unless it be -his father." - -"That will do right well," replied Antonio; "I neither love him nor -hate him, for my part, but I must use him for my purposes." - -"He generally uses other men for his," answered his lord, with a -doubtful look. - -"Great stones are moved by great levers," said Antonio; "and I have -got the lever in my hands, my lord, with which I can move this mighty -man to do well-nigh what I wish. I will set out to-morrow evening, I -think, and ride by night---no, it must be on the following day. There -is a game playing even now upon which I must have my eye. In the mean -time, your lordship had better see the Signor Leonardo; he will tell -you much; and if there be a lingering doubt, as there well may be, -that your poor servant has ascertained the facts he states beyond a -doubt, the maestro will confirm all I have said." - -"Antonio," said Lorenzo, giving him his hand, "if ever there was a man -who faithfully loved and served another, so you have loved and served -me. But love and service are sometimes blind and dull. Not such have -been yours. Where I have wanted wisdom, perception, or discretion, you -have furnished them to me; and of all the many benefits conferred on -me by Lorenzo de Medici, his placing you near me was the greatest. -Power, and wealth, and authority are often irritable, and sometimes -unjust. If I have ever shown myself so to you, Antonio, forgive me for -it; but never believe that, knowing you as I know you, I ever doubt -your truth." - -Antonio made no reply, but kissed his lord's hand, as was the custom -in those reverent ages, and left him with a swimming eye. - -Lorenzo cast from him the gorgeous dress at that time common in Italy, -the gorgeous chain of gold, the knightly order of St. Michael, the -surcoat of brown and gold, the vest and haut-de-chaussée of white -satin and silver, and, after plunging his burning head several times -in water, cast on a loose dressing-gown, and seating himself in a wide -easy-chair, endeavoured to sleep. The day had been one of fatigue and -excitement. Neither mind nor body had enjoyed any repose, but sleep -was long a stranger to his eyelids. At length she came, fanning his -senses with her downy wings, but only as a vampire, to wound his -heart while she seemed to soothe. He dreamed of Eloise. He saw her -dying by the dagger-blow of a hand issuing from a cloud. All was -forgotten--indignation, anger, shame, I may say contempt. She was his -wife, the wife of his bosom, the wife plighted to him by the solemn -vow of the altar. He seized the visionary hand, uplifted for a second -blow, and pushed it back, exclaiming, "No, no, strike me! If any one -must die, strike me!" and then he woke. - -The lights which he had left burning were nearly in the sockets. The -first blue gleam of morning was seen through the windows; and Lorenzo, -dressing himself quietly in his ordinary garments, descended to the -court-yard, endeavouring to forget the troublous visions of the night. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. - - -Under a wide-spreading and drooping fig-tree in the lower part of the -gardens of the villa on the hill was seated a man who kept his eyes -steadily fixed upon a certain spot at the end of the terrace far -above. The distance in a direct line to the object toward which his -eyes were turned was some two hundred and fifty yards; it might be a -little more, but at all events, he could see distinctly all that -passed above. - -At first it seemed as if there was but little to be seen. A -lady was seated, reading, in a small plot or garden, close by a -highly-ornamented doorway which led into the interior of the villa. It -was in an angle of the building, where a large mass of architecture -protruded beyond the general façade. Thus, when the sun was in the -west, a deeper shade was cast there than upon any other point of the -terrace. It was, perhaps, that the sun had nearly reached the horizon, -and that the shades of night were coming fast, which caused the lady -to lay the manuscript book upon her knee, and, looking up to the sky, -seem to contemplate a flight of tinted clouds, which looked like the -leaves of a shedding rose blown over a garden by the rifling wind. - -But hark! what is that sound that strikes his ear? the fast footfalls -of horses coming along the road beneath the stone walls of the garden. -They pause close by him. - -"Here! hold the horse, and wait till I return," said a voice, and the -next moment a cavalier vaulted over the wall, and stood within twenty -yards of where the watcher sat. - -For a moment the stranger seemed uncertain which way to turn, but then -he forced his way through the vines to a path which led up to the main -entrance of the villa on the terrace. He looked up and around from -time to time as he ascended; but suddenly an object seemed to meet his -eyes to the right, and, striking away from the path, he took a course -direct toward it, regardless of any obstacle. The watcher kept his eye -upon him while he climbed the hill, mounted the steps of the terrace, -and stood by the lady's side. - -Who can tell what words were spoken? Who can tell what feelings were -expressed! Who can tell what memories were re-awakened? Who can tell -what passions had power in that hour? - -The watcher saw him stand beside her talking for several minutes, then -cast himself down on the ground by her side. A moment after, his arm -glided round her; and one could almost fancy that wafted on the air -came the words, "One--one kiss before we part." - -Their lips evidently met, and God forgive them if it was a sin! The -next instant Leonora rose from her seat, and, hand in hand, they -entered the building by the door which led to her own saloon. - -"Ha! ha!" said the watcher, with a bitter laugh. But two minutes had -not elapsed before lights flashed from the windows of that very room, -and the shadows of three figures passed across. - -"What means this?" said the man who sat beneath the fig-tree; and, -creeping forth from his concealment, he stole up the hill. He reached -the terrace at some distance from the little garden, and then walked -along in the direction of the spot where he had seen Lorenzo and -Leonora. His sandalled foot made very little noise; and he kept so -close to the building that his gown brushed against the stone-work. -When he reached the first window of Leonora's saloon, he paused for an -instant, and by an effort--for he was short of stature--raised himself -sufficiently to look in. It was enough. Seated side by side were those -whom the Count de Rouvri had well termed the two most beautiful -persons in Italy. But at the farther side of the saloon was one of -Leonora's maids busily plying the needle. - -Had Eve refused to taste the forbidden fruit in Eden, Satan could -hardly have felt more rancorous disappointment than that friar -experienced at what he saw. - -That night passed, and the following day; but when evening came, the -villa on the hill blazed with lights; the gardens were illuminated, -and gay groups were seen in the long saloons and on the terrace, and -in many a part of the gardens. Many a tale of love was told that -night, and many a whispered word was spoken that decided fates for -ever. There was much pleasure, much joy, some happiness; but there -were pains and heartburning also. - -It was toward the end of the entertainment that Eloise, passing along -with the young Marquis de Vibraye at her side, came suddenly upon her -husband leaning against one of the pillars of the door which led out -upon the terrace. De Vibraye was one of those peculiarly obnoxious to -Lorenzo, for there was a braggart spirit in him which sported with -woman's fame in the society of men with little heed of truth or -probability. There was a look of triumph on his face as he passed -Lorenzo with hardly an inclination of the head. But he went not far; -for his foot was not on the terrace ere Lorenzo's hand was on his -shoulder. - -"A word with you, seigneur," said the young prefect, and drew him to -some distance. - -"Well, my lord," said De Vibraye, with a cheek somewhat pale, "what do -you want with me?" - -"But little," replied Lorenzo. "I gave you a sufficient hint in Rome -that your society was not desired within my doors. I find you here. If -you are in Imola to-morrow at noon, I will out off your ears, and turn -you out of the gates as a worthless cur. You had better go while you -are safe." - -He waited no answer, but returned to the side of his wife, who greeted -him in a fretful tone, saying-- - -"Well, this is courteous in you two gentlemen to leave me standing -here alone like a chambermaid!" - -"Madame, you shall be alone no longer," answered Lorenzo, drawing her -arm through his, and leading her back into the great saloon. - -She did not venture to resist, for he spoke in a tone she had heard -once before, and she knew that when he used it he would bear no -opposition. But a few minutes after, a cry ran through the rooms that -the Countess Visconti had fainted. - -"Bear her to my daughter's saloon!" cried Ramiro d'Orco, as Lorenzo -caught up Eloise in his arms; "bear her to my daughter's saloon! She -will soon recover. Here, follow me--make way, gentlemen! All the lady -requires is cooler air; the rooms are too crowded." - -"This way, Signor Visconti," said Leonora; and in a few moments Eloise -was laid upon a couch, and the door closed to prevent the intrusion of -the crowd. - -It was very like death; and Lorenzo and Leonora looked upon her with -strange and mingled sensations. There lay the only obstacle to their -happiness, pale and ashy as a faded flower. Seldom has the slumber of -the grave been better mocked; and yet the sight had a saddening and -heart-purifying effect on both. So young--so beautiful--so sweet and -innocent-looking in that still sleep! They could not, they did not -wish that so bright a link in the chain which bound both to the pillar -of an evil destiny should be rudely severed. The maids who had been -called tried in vain to bring her back to consciousness; and Ramiro -d'Orco, who had been gazing too with sensations differing from any in -the breasts of those around him, called the girls aside, and bade them -seek the friar. - -"He is skilled in medicinal arts," he said; "fetch him instantly." - -Leonora pointed to the inanimate form of her lover's wife, and said in -a low tone-- - -"Look there, Lorenzo! Is it not sad? There is but one thing to be -done. I will take refuge in a convent, lest evil dreams should come -into our hearts." - -"O forbear! forbear yet awhile!" said Lorenzo; but, ere he could add -more, Ramiro d'Orco had returned to their side; and a few minutes -after, Friar Peter was in the room. He approached the couch with a -quiet, stealthy step, gazed on the face of Eloise, laid his hand upon -the pulse, and, taking a cup of water from one of the maids, dropped -some pale fluid into it from a phial, and, raising the head of his -patient, poured it into her mouth. - -"She will revive in a moment," he said; "that is a sovereign cure for -such affections of this bodily frame. Oppression of the spirit may be -harder to reach, and, I should think, in this case there is something -weighing heavy on the heart or mind." - -Lorenzo kept silence, though he thought that the friar had perhaps -divined aright. - -At all events, his remedy, whatever it was, proved effectual. After -about a minute, Eloise opened her eyes, and looked around her faintly. -"Where am I?" she said. "Oh, is that you, Leonora?" - -"How are you, madame," said Ramiro d'Orco; "you have swooned from the -crowded rooms and overheated air. I trust you will be quite well -shortly." - -"I am better," she said, "much better, but very weak; I would fain go -home. Let some one bring my litter." - -"I will go with you," said Lorenzo. "I beseech you, signor, have my -horses ordered. But, ere we go, I must thank this good friar for his -most serviceable aid. That for your convent, father," he said, drawing -him aside and giving him money. "I thank you for your skilful tendance -on my wife; but I think that perhaps your counsels might, as you -hinted even now, be as good for her mental condition as your drugs -have been for her bodily health. I will pray you, therefore, good -father, visit her tomorrow towards noon. You can explain your coming -as a visit to a patient rather than a penitent; but if you can inspire -her with somewhat more careful thought regarding her demeanour in the -world, you will do well." - -"But the lady knows not yet that I tended on her," said Mardocchi; -"let me speak with her again before she goes." - -He then approached the side of Eloise, and once more laid his fingers -on her pulse. - -"Not quite recovered yet," he said, with a grave air; "give me some -water. A few more drops will, I trust, complete the cure, daughter;" -and he took the phial from his gown. - -"Not here, friar--not here!" whispered Ramiro d'Orco. - -But Mardocchi put him back with his hand, dropped out some more of the -liquid, and gave it to Eloise, saying: - -"This will restore you perfectly for to-night. To-morrow I will see -you again, to know how you are then." - -It was on the following day toward noon that Friar Peter entered the -Episcopal Square, and approached the palace which had been hired for -Lorenzo Visconti. He walked with downcast eyes and a thoughtful look, -but none of the townspeople who passed him attributed any very high or -holy meditations to the friar; for the Italians, especially of the -lower class, are the most clear-sighted persons in the world into the -depths of human character. "What is he calculating?" they thought; -"what is he scheming now?" - -With a quiet, almost noiseless step, he approached the wide gates of -the palazzo, and asked for the signora. - -"She is in the hall above with some French cavaliers, father," replied -the janitore; "you can go up." - -"I would rather see her alone," answered the friar; "I attended upon -her last night when she fainted at the Villa Ramiro, and wish to speak -to her about her health. Can you not call her out of the hall for a -moment?" - -The porter led him to the door of the hall, and, leaving him there, -entered alone. He was gone but a moment, and then returning, led the -friar up another flight of stairs to Eloise's chamber, where he left -him, saying that his lady would be up in a few minutes. - -He closed the door when he departed, and Mardocchi gazed around him -with no small curiosity and interest. There were many ornaments -scattered round the room--little works of art, beautiful trifles and -invaluable gems. Mardocchi remarked all, examined all, and handled not -a few. Among the rest he took up the small picture of Lorenzo's -mother, which the young prefect had left there on the night of his -arrival. He gazed at the face for a moment or two, seeming to have -some faint remembrance of the features, and then examined the case -with some curiosity. He was not long in discovering the spring by -which the back opened, and the powders and inscription were exposed to -view. - -"A cure for the ills of life!" he said: and then, as if something -which required thought suddenly struck him, he seated himself, and -with his eyes fixed upon the case, fell into profound meditation. - -The reader will remember that there was a smaller chamber next to that -of Eloise; and a door of communication between the two. As the friar -sat there thinking, that door moved slightly on its hinges, and a -chink appeared through which one might have passed a Spanish crown -piece,--no larger. - -A few minutes after, the countess entered. Mardocchi had the picture -with the case still open in his hand; but he laid it not down as might -have been expected. On the contrary, he rose from his seat, and, -bowing his head, said, with a humble air: - -"I have committed a great indiscretion, Madonna, I took up this -beautiful portrait to look at it, when suddenly, I know not how, it -came open as you see." - -"Oh! that is the picture of my husband's mother," said Eloise -carelessly; "I found it here two or three days ago. I cannot tell how -it came here, for he carries it usually in his bosom. But what is that -little box behind? I was puzzling over these powders and the -inscription only yesterday, but could make nothing of them." - -"Let me see," said Mardocchi, carrying the case to the window, as if -for a better light. - -He remained for a moment or two with his back to the lady, apparently -examining the powders, and then brought the case back, saying: - -"They are apparently love powders." - -"Then I will take one of them," said Eloise, laughing; "I am sure I -need them." - -"For Heaven's sake, forbear, Madonna," said Mardocchi; "I don't, know -what they are--I only guess. God help us! they may contain poison, in -this wicked age." - -"Well, well, I will put the case back in his dressing-room," said -Eloise; but the friar stayed her, saying, "Better leave them where he -left them, my daughter. I have but a few moments to stay, and I wish -to inquire after your health. - -"Oh! my health in excellent, good father," replied the lady, lightly, -"thanks to your skill; I believe it never was better." - -"Permit me to feel your pulse, Madonna," said Mardocchi. "Let me see. -This is the ninth day of the moon; and, from the eighth to the -fourteenth, some mild and calming remedies are useful. Your pulse is -somewhat agitated." - -"Well it may be," said Eloise; "my husband is in a mighty sweet -humour, father. He takes offence at the slightest trifles; and, on my -life, if I did not know him noble at heart, I should think, as you -said, that these papers contained poisons, and that he had left them -here that I might try their virtues myself." - -"That were easily tested," said Mardocchi, with an eager look. "Give -one of them to some of your maids; bid them put it in a piece of meat, -and throw it to a dog. If they be venomous, the venom will soon do its -work. Here, give her this one at the top;" and, taking one of the -powders out of the case, he laid it down on the table. - -"And, now again, Madonna, as to your health," continued Mardocchi; -"you are not so well as you think yourself. A malady affects you -proceeding from some shock to the spirits, which will return at -intervals of sixteen hours, unless you do something to arrest its -course. It may be very violent indeed, and attended with sore pains -and terrible suffering; but I can prevent its having any fatal effect. -Let me calculate. Last night you had the first slight attack at about -ten o'clock; a stronger one will seize you at two to-day. It is now -too late to avert it entirely; but if in an hour's time, you will take -this powder which I now give you--mind! do not confound it with the -other, which is to be tried upon the dog--you will find the paroxysms -much mitigated. Do not be alarmed, though you may suffer much, for at -the moment when the convulsion seems most strong, it will suddenly -cease, and you will sleep quietly." - -Eloise gazed at him with surprise and even alarm. - -"I feel quite well," she thought; "what can this mean? And yet I felt -quite well five minutes before I fainted last night. Well, the monk -soon cured me then, and I will follow his counsel now. In an hour, -father, did you say?" she asked aloud. - -"Ay, in an hour," replied the friar; "that will just give me time to -try one of those other powders on a dog. I shall like to hear the -result, and will see you again to-morrow, when I trust I shall find -this malady is quite vanquished. You then can tell whether those in -the case are safe. They are probably very idle drugs." - -"I will have them tried, good father," replied Eloise; "and now -farewell." - -"Shall I send one of your women to you, Madonna?" asked the friar; and -then he added with apparently a sudden change of thought, "It may be -as well not to say how you came by the powders, or why you wish this -trial made. It might lead to injurious suspicious." - -"True--true," said Eloise, in an absent tone. "I will say nothing. -Send one of them here. You will find them in the end room of the -suite. Farewell." - -Mardocchi left her, and speedily found the chamber where her women -were at work. His quick eye glanced over them, and fixed upon one he -thought suited to his purpose. - -"I wish to speak to you, signora," he said, beckoning her into the -corridor; and when she laid down her work and followed him, he added -in a low tone, "The countess wants you in her chamber. She may say -little to you in her present mood, and therefore I wish to warn you to -be careful what you do. Her husband has left her some powders to take. -She is doubtful of what they are, and wishes to have one of them tried -upon a dog before she swallows them. Give it in some meat, and don't -lose sight of the animal till you see the effect. Then return to your -lady, and tell her what you have seen. But talk with her as little as -possible, for she is unwell." - -In the meanwhile, Eloise sat alone in somewhat sad and solemn -meditations. If there be sympathies between the beings of this mortal -world and those unclogged with clay--if there be warnings conveyed -without voice, or impulses given from a higher sphere, it is natural -to suppose that they are more clearly heard, more keenly felt, when we -are approaching near the world from which they come. Eloise was very -sad--the lightness of her character was gone. She was serious now for -once, and thoughts unwonted, undesired, had full possession of her. - -Who is there that can review even a few years of his past life without -finding many things to regret? And oh! what a sad retrospect did the -last two years afford to Eloise Visconti! How many an act worthy of -penitence, if not remorse--how many a blessing cast away--how many an -opportunity neglected! - -She tried to shake off that painful, self-reproachful mood; but it -clung to her; and when the woman entered, she hardly saw her. - -"What are your commands, Madonna?" asked the girl. - -Eloise started, and then, taking one of two small packets which -lay at some distance from each other on the table, she held it out, -saying-- - -"Put that in a piece of meat, and give it to one of the dogs. Come -back and tell me if it lives or dies." - -The girl took the paper and departed, but not without remarking that -there was another packet of much the same shape and size upon the -table. - -Eloise fell into thought again, and was soon as completely absorbed in -meditation as ever. She knew not how long the girl was absent; but at -length she returned, saying, with a look of some consternation-- - -"Madam, the poor dog fell into great agonies and died in about three -minutes." - -"Ha!" said the young countess; "thank God! I now know what they are." - -"I thank God too, Madonna," answered the girl; "how can any one be so -cruel?" - -"Cruel or kind, as the case may be, Giovanetta," replied her mistress, -"when life is a burden, he is kind who takes it off our shoulders." - -"But oh! Madonna, for a husband to----!" said the girl. - -But Eloise waved her away, saying, "Go, girl, go; you know not what -you talk of. Leave me!" - -The girl went unwillingly, for she liked not the change from -light-hearted mirth to stern sadness in her gay mistress; and she -would fain have taken the other powder with her, but she dared not -disobey. - -"What means this deep gloom that is upon me?" said Eloise to herself, -as soon as the girl was gone. "It must be the approach of the attack -the friar mentioned. It is time to take the medicine--nay, more than -time, I fear. I will swallow it at once, though I love not drugs. This -at least has life in it--not death;" and, with that conviction, she -mixed the powder Mardocchi had left with some water, and drank it. - -"It is very sweet," she said, "but it burns my throat;" and, seating -herself, she took up a book of prayers and began to read. - -Ten minutes after the silver bell rang violently once and again, for -the maids heard not the first summons. At the second, Giovenetta -started up and ran to the chamber of her mistress; but, as she -approached, she heard the sound of a heavy fall, and when the door was -opened, she and another who followed found Eloise upon the floor in -strong convulsions. - -"Oh, she is poisoned!" cried Giovanetta, wringing her hands. - -"My husband! my husband!" murmured Eloise, with a terrible effort: "my -husband; tell him I never sinned against him as he thought--tell him I -have been faithful to him--oh, girls, raise me up! I am choked--I -cannot breathe." - -They raised her and laid her on her bed, and for a moment or two she -seemed relieved; but then a still more terrible paroxysm succeeded, -and, ere any assistance could be sought, the light, thoughtless spirit -passed away to seek mercy at the throne of God. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. - - -In the court-yard of the castle of Imola were many horses and -attendants, and in the great hall various personages of high and low -degree. A scene very frequent in ancient and modern time, and which -never loses its terrors, was there going on. It was the trial of a man -accused of a capital offence. The Lord of Imola, possessing, as he had -stipulated, what was then called high and low justice, sat upon the -raised seat at the end of the hall, and by his side appeared the young -Prefect of Romagna, whom he had asked to assist him by his advice in a -case which seemed to present some difficulties. The hour was about -twenty minutes after noon, and the testimony had all been taken. - -Before the tribunal stood a man, between two guards, of some forty -years of age, and of a ferocious aspect. But his cheek was pale, and -his eye dim with fear; for he had heard it distinctly proved that he -had been taken in the act of a coldblooded brutal assassination of a -young girl. - -"I refuse this tribunal," he cried, hoarsely. "I do not acknowledge -the power of this court. I am of noble blood, as every one here knows; -and you have no authority to sentence me, Ramiro d'Orco." - -"What say you, my lord prefect?" asked Ramiro, in his cold, quiet -tones. "I leave you to pass sentence." - -"I can but give an opinion, my lord," replied Lorenzo; "I presume to -pass no sentence within your vicariate. You have, I know, power of -high justice; therefore his claim of nobility in your court can avail -him nothing, except in giving him the right to the axe rather than the -cord. His guilt is clear. His sentence must, I presume, be death." - -"I will order him at once to the block," said Ramiro, sternly. - -But Lorenzo interposed. - -"Nay, give him time," he said; "I beseech you give him time. Death is -a terrible thing to all men, even to those who have lived the purest -lives; but, from what we have heard, this unhappy man's soul is loaded -with many a crime. Give him time for thought, for counsel, for -repentance. Abridge not the period of religious comfort. Send him not -hot from the bloody deed before the throne of the Almighty Judge." - -"How long?" asked Ramiro, somewhat impatiently. - -"Allow him four-and-twenty hours for preparation," said Lorenzo. "It -is short enough." - -"So be it," said Ramiro d'Orco; "take him hence. Let him have a priest -to admonish him; and at this hour to-morrow, do him to death in the -court-yard by the axe. My lord prefect, will you ride with me? Our -horses are all ready, and I have again to leave the city for a few -hours. There are some curious things of the olden time by the road -side." - -"Willingly," answered Lorenzo, "if we can be back before night, for I -expect, from day to day, intelligence from the Duke of Valentinois, -now lying before Forli." - -Ramiro d'Orco assured him that their return would be before sunset; -and, descending to the court-yard, they mounted and rode out of the -Ravenna gate. Each was followed by numerous well-armed servants, and, -whether by accident or design, their trains were very equal in -numbers. - -In the meantime, the unhappy criminal cast himself down upon a bench, -and fell into a fit of despairing thought. Even among the hardest and -harshest of the human race, there lingers long a certain feeling of -compassion for intense misery; but yet it is not probable that the -guards and attendants of Ramiro d'Orco would have suffered the -murderer to sit quietly there, had they not been moved by an -inclination to talk over the various events of the day, and hear the -scandal of the town and neighbourhood. - -The Italian is very fond of scandal; but he loves it not for the sake -of the coarse enjoyment which many others feel in feeding on the -follies of their kind, but rather for the exercise of the fine-edged -wit, the keen but delicate sarcasm of his nation, to which it gives an -ample field. Even the hard men there present had each his slight -smile, and his light and playful jest at the subject of their -discourse. Alas! that subject was the fair wife of Lorenzo Visconti -and her train of French and Roman cavaliers. - -They had not been thus engaged five minutes, when suddenly a door just -behind the seat of judgment opened, and the friar, Father Peter, -entered, looking eagerly round. The wit and the jest ceased instantly, -and the men looked at him in silence, with no very loving aspect. None -had any tangible cause of dislike; but men have antipathies -instinctive, deeply seated, not to be resisted. - -With his still noiseless step Mardocchi advanced, stepped down, and -asked where Ramiro d'Orco was. They told him that their lord had gone -forth by the Ravenna gate, and his countenance fell. He said little, -however, for he was very careful of his words; and, after having gazed -at the murderer--the only one who seemed to take no notice of him--he -withdrew by the great door. At the head of the staircase he paused and -meditated for several minutes, then descended into the court and -sought the great gates. He there halted again, and muttered to -himself-- - -"Well, no matter? It may be as well that at first there should seem no -suspicion. It will look more natural. Slight causes at first, and then -graver doubts, and then formal inquiries, and then damning proofs. -That were the best course. But this Signor d'Orco of mine is so -thirsty for his blood, it has been difficult to restrain him hitherto, -and he may hurry on too fiercely. As well he should not know the thing -till night. She will be dead by two; by five or six they will be home, -and in the interval between I shall have time to prepare the public -mind for the tale of poison--without hinting at her husband, however. -Let that come afterwards." - -But Mardocchi's plans were destined to be disappointed, in part at -least. He was not allowed time to prepare the public mind, as he -proposed; for though, from a vulgar assassin, he had risen by skill -and assiduous study to be something like a politician, and his schemes -were often deep and well laid, yet the finest politicians must often -be the slaves of circumstances, and sometimes their own cupidity -frustrates their best devised projects. - -Friar Peter reached what was called the little piazza, and stopped for -a moment to speak with one of the Roman gentlemen who had followed -Eloise Visconti to Imola. The nobleman asked the monk several -questions in a low voice. "I really know not what is the lady's -malady," said Mardocchi at length, following out his purpose; "I -should say it is the effect of a slow poison, but that I know no one -has any cause to put her out of the way." - -"Be not too sure of that," replied the other; "she left us in a very -sudden way to-day, and the servants told us, retired to her room ill. -But as to causes, I could tell you what I overheard, just before she -fainted last night. Hark, you, friar!" - -But before he could add more, a man in a dusty dress came up and took -Mardocchi by the arm, saying, "I wish to speak with you in private, -father." - -Mardocchi stepped aside with him, and the other continued, in a low -voice, "Mount your mule instantly and speed to Forli. The duke sends -you word he has need of you." - -"What duke?" asked Mardocchi; "and what token does he send?" - -"The Duke Valentinois, to be sure," replied the man; "do you not -remember me? I have seen you at the Borgia Palace a dozen times three -years ago. As for the token, he says, By the horse, and the month, and -the Church of San Bartholomew, come to him!" - -"Will not to-morrow do?" asked Mardocchi. "I have matters of -importance to see to to-day." - -"No," replied the other; "Don Cæsar says what has to be done must be -done to-night. You have four-and-twenty miles to ride, and it is now -near one hour past noon." - -"Well, I will speed," said the friar; "I promised always to be ready -at his bidding, and I never fail to keep my word. But I have a letter -to write--nay, it is but short--ten words are enough. I will but step -into this scrivener's and borrow pen and paper. Then I will go for my -mule. It is a quick beast and enduring, and I shall reach Forli ere -night." - -Thus saying, he sped away, and, procuring the means of writing, -considered for one moment, and then decided on the words he was to use -for the purpose of conveying his meaning without betraying his secret. - - -"Illustrious Lord," he wrote at length, "my part of the business is -over. I have confessed my penitent and given her the viaticum. It is -for you to discover whether she came to her present state fairly; and, -I doubt not, if her chamber is closely searched, and her women -examined, enough will be made manifest to fix the guilt upon the right -person. Go slowly and go surely. I am called suddenly to Forli by -commands I dare not disobey; but, if possible, I will be in Imola -again ere to-morrow night." - - -He read the words over more than once, and then saying, "That -discloses nothing," folded the paper and sealed it. His next -consideration was by whose hands he should convey it to Ramiro d'Orco. -The scrivener himself was an old acquaintance; and, after some -thought, he decided to entrust the letter to him. Many were the -injunctions he laid upon him to deliver it immediately on the Lord of -Imola's return: and then he sought his mule and set out for Forli. - -But the scrivener was fond of knowing every one's secrets--it was part -of his profession in those days. Thus the seal of the letter was not -very long intact. The contents puzzled the old man. He saw there was a -double meaning; but he could not divise the enigma. "I will find out -by-and-bye," he said; and, sitting down, he deliberately took a copy -of the letter. Then, by a process still well known in Italy, he sealed -it up again, so that no eye could detect that the cover had been -opened. - -About half an hour after all this had been done, people were seen -hurrying through the streets, and symptoms of agitation and terror -were apparent in the town. - -"What is the matter? what is the matter, Signor Medico?" asked the -scrivener, running out from his booth, and catching the sleeve of a -physician who was walking more slowly than the rest. - -"The Countess Visconti, the lady of the prefect, has been poisoned, -they say," replied the physician. "I know no more about it, for they -did not send for me, or perhaps I might have saved her." - -"Then she is dead?" asked the scrivener. - -"Ay, dead enough," answered the other, and walked on. - -The scrivener had his own thoughts; but the name of Ramiro d'Orco had -become somewhat terrible in Imola, and Mardocchi's letter was safely -delivered as soon as that nobleman returned. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - - -The air was balmy, the breeze was fresh and strong, the large masses -of clouds, like spirit thrones, floated buoyant over the sky, followed -by the dancing sunshine. The manes of the horses waved wildly in the -wind, and their wide nostrils expanded to take in the delicious air. -The influence of the hour and scene spread to the heart of Lorenzo -Visconti, and seemed, for the time at least, to banish the thought of -sorrow and of ill. Out of the city, with the wide country between -Imola and Ravenna stretching in deep blue waving lines before his -eyes, the wind refreshing his brow and fanning his cheek, and his -noble horse bounding proudly under him, a sense of freedom from -earthly shackles and the hard bond of fate came over him. It sparkled -in his eye, it beamed upon his lip. - -Ramiro d'Orco gazed upon him, and his aspect, more like what it had -been in early youth, brought back the thought of other days. Did they -soften that hard, obdurate heart? Did they mollify the stern, dark -purposes within his breast? Oh, no! He only thought, "Soon--very -soon!" And if there was any change in his feelings, it was but -inasmuch that the momentary relief--the temporary joy in Lorenzo's -aspect promised to give zest to his revenge, and add pangs to the -sufferings he hoped to inflict. - -Yet he was courteous, gentle--oh, marvellously courteous. To have seen -him, one would have thought he was riding by the side of his dearest -friend; no one could have dreamed that there was one rankling passion -in his breast. Grave he was truly, but he was always grave. The -expression of his countenance, shaded by the long, iron-grey hair, was -even somewhat stern; but his words were smooth, and even kind; and -there was a sort of rigid grace about him, like that of some statues, -which gave force to all he said. They rode on (their two trains -mingling together) for about ten miles from Imola, and then Ramiro, -pointing with his hand to a low hill on the right, told Lorenzo that -just beyond that rise there had been lately found a curious ancient -tomb, apparently of an earlier date than any known Roman monument. - -"We will go and see it," he said; "we shall have plenty of time. 'Tis -but a quarter of a mile from the road." - -Lorenzo willingly consented: but when they had passed the rise, and -were turning from the road to the right, some white objects rose over -the slope, and a few steps more showed several lines of tents, with -sentries on guard, and horses picketed near. - -"Ha! what is this?" exclaimed Ramiro d'Orco, with a look of -displeasure manifest on his countenance. - -"Troops of France, my good lord," replied Lorenzo. "Do you not see the -banners? Probably your relation, the Lord de Vitry, with the auxiliary -force promised to his Highness the Duke of Valentinois." - -"It is strange, my lord prefect, that they should be camped on this -side of Imola," said Ramiro; "they were more needed at Forli, -methinks." - -He had drawn in his bridle while speaking, as if hesitating whether he -should go on or turn back; but Lorenzo spurred forward at once, and -was already speaking to the sentries, when the other came up. - -They were led almost immediately into the camp, and welcomed by De -Vitry at the door of his tent. - -"Come in, nobles," he said, "come in; you are just in time to crush a -cup of right French wine with me. Good faith, I and the great maestro -were about to drain the goblet. He has promised to paint me a -portrait, Signor Ramiro, of your fair relation, my sweet Blanche; and -I tell him if he wants the picture of an angel for any of his great -pictures, he shall have the portrait to copy at his wish." - -Something common-place was said by Ramiro d'Orco in reply, and all -three entered the tent, where they found Leonardo da Vinci seated with -a cup of wine before him, but in dusty apparel, and with a very grave -expression of countenance. The ceremonious salutations of the day took -place, and some fine wine of the Rhone was handed round; but De Vitry -was more abrupt and thoughtful than ordinary. At length he rose, and -beckoned Lorenzo aside, saying: - -"I want to speak to you, Visconti. How long are you from Forli?" - -"But a few days," replied Lorenzo, following him; "I suppose you have -stopped the intended succour?" - -De Vitry made no answer to this half question, but whispered -hastily---- - -"I understand it all; everything shall be done as he says. Devil take -that Antonio! what has he gone away for, just at such an emergency?" - -"My noble friend, I know not what you mean," replied Lorenzo; "where -has he gone? what emergency?" - -Ere De Vitry could answer, Ramiro d'Orco had risen, and, with a bland -smile upon his lip, was approaching them. - -"I crave pardon, noble lords," he said, "but if we pursue not our -journey soon, signor, we shall not reach Imola ere dark." - -"Do not let me detain you," said De Vitry, with his usual frank, -soldier-like manner. "Tell the duke, Visconti, that I think all danger -past, but that I will hold my ground till the last-named day has seen -the sun set, and then retire to Ravenna. My lord of Imola, I ought to -have paid my respects to you yesterday, but we were all tired with a -long march. Tomorrow, when the sun is declining, I will be with you; -but, I beg, no ceremony. I come but scantily attended, and form and -display are needless. Will you not taste more wine?" - -Both Ramiro and Lorenzo declined; and the former felt well satisfied -when he saw the readiness with which the young prefect accompanied -him, for evil purposes are always suspicious, and he had thought the -few words spoken in private between Lorenzo and De Vitry must have -some reference to himself. - -"He suspects nothing," he thought, as they remounted and rode on; "but -how could he? I am too eager. Like a boy chasing a butterfly, or a -youth a woman, I fear the prize will escape me, even when it is within -my grasp." - -The rest of the journey was uninteresting. The two cavaliers soon -reached the object to which their steps tended--a small town, or -rather village, which Ramiro was fortifying, to command a pass through -a morass. The Etruscan tomb was forgotten, and their return to Imola -was made by a narrower and steeper, but much shorter path, which -brought them to the gates just as the sun had set. - -A single lantern, which hung from the vault of the arched gateway, -gave them barely light to guide their horses, and as it fell upon the -dark countenances of the guard, Lorenzo thought, "It feels like -entering a prison." - -At this moment a man stepped out of the shadow and handed Ramiro -d'Orco a paper, with the one word "important." - -"A light! bring me a light!" exclaimed the Lord of Imola; and, with -some difficulty, a torch was lighted at the lantern, and held up so -that he could read. The contents of the letter seemed to puzzle him -for a moment, but gradually his pale cheek flushed, and his eye -flashed with a triumphant light. - -"Here we must fain part for the night, my lord prefect," he said. "You -take to the bishop's square, and I, I am sorry to say, back to the -castle, for business of importance will keep me there to-night. We -shall meet again to-morrow. Good night." - -"Good night," replied Lorenzo; and he turned his horse into the street -just within the walls. - -"Oh, my lord, my lord," cried a voice, ere he had ridden a hundred -yards, "what news I have to tell you! Alas! alas! my lady is dead." - -"Dead!" exclaimed Lorenzo, throwing his horse almost on his haunches -by the suddenness with which he reined him up; "dead! The man is mad! -Why, Bazil, what do you mean?" - -"Too true, too true, my noble lord," replied the Frenchman; "she died -at two o'clock--quite suddenly. But come up, my lord. 'Tis ill talking -of such things here in the street." - -Lorenzo spurred on his horse; and oh! what a tumult of wild -feelings were in his heart; But there was one predominant. It was -regret--almost remorse. He had spoken harshly, he thought--had acted -harshly. She had felt it more than he believed she could or would, as -her fainting on the previous night had shown. True, she had given -abundant cause for harsh words, and even harsher acts than he had -used. But the cause was forgotten in the thought of one so young, so -beautiful, so full of happy life, being laid suddenly in the cold -grave. A thousand times had he wished that he had never seen her; but, -now that she was gone, he would have given his right hand to recall -her to life. He reached the palace; he sprang from his horse and -rushed in. He heard the confused tale of the servants, and he sprang -up the stairs; but, as he went, his pace slackened. An awe came over -him; and he trod the corridor as if his step could have awakened the -dead. With a trembling hand he opened the door, and entered the -chamber of death. There were lights at the head and at the feet of the -corpse, with two of Eloise's maids--Giovanetta and another--seated one -on either side. Late autumn flowers were strewed on the fair form of -the poor girl, cut off in her young spring, and the painful odour of -the death incense spread a sickly perfume through the room. - -Lorenzo approached with slow and silent tread, uncovered the face, and -gazed at it for a moment. Then kneeling by the bedside, he took one of -her marble-cold hands in his and pressed his lips upon it. A few tears -fell upon the alabaster skin, and rising, he beckoned Giovanetta -toward the adjoining room. - -At the door he paused, and said in a low voice-- - -"You may both retire; but be near at hand; I will watch beside her." - -"You, my lord!" exclaimed the girl. - -"I," answered Lorenzo: "Why not I? But mark me, lock the door. I will -watch here, and when the priests return, say I will have nothing -farther done till to-morrow. She must lie as she is now. There is -something strange here, girl, on which I must be satisfied." - -"Ay, strange indeed," said Giovanetta. - -"Well, it must be unravelled before a grain of earth falls upon her," -replied Lorenzo. "Now leave me; I cannot talk more to-night." - -"I must tell you my lady's last words," said the girl: "it was her -command. In the agony of death, she cried, 'My husband! my husband! -tell him I never sinned against him as he thought--tell him I have -been faithful to him.' That is what she said." - -"Oh, God! Do not torture me!" cried Lorenzo, waving her away. The girl -returned into the chamber of the dead, and whispered a few words to -her companion. Then both rose and retired, locking the door behind -them. - -Lorenzo seated himself in the large chair, so that he could see -through the open door the bed and its inanimate burden. I will not -attempt to trace his feelings. Twice he rose, went to the bedside, -gazed upon the pale face, and returned to his watching-place; and -often he covered his eyes with his hands. There were various sounds -without--the return of priests--the movements of the servants; but he -gave them no heed; and shortly all was silent again. - -At length there came a nearer sound. It seemed in the room beside -him--near, very near; and Lorenzo, starting, turned his head. Suddenly -his arms were seized by two strong men, and a third put his hand upon -the hilt of Lorenzo's sword to prevent him from drawing it. "You are -our prisoner, my lord prefect," said one of the men, "charged with the -murder of your wife. Come with us without resistance, for resistance -is vain. The palace is in our hands." - -Lorenzo gazed round from one to another, and perceived that there were -several more figures at the door. He had no thought of resistance, -however. Taken by surprise at a moment when his mind was overpowered -with grief and horror, the fire of his character was quite subdued. - -"The murder of my wife!" he said, "the murder of my wife! Who dares to -charge me? Who is mad enough to accuse me?" - -"Of that we know nothing, my lord," replied the man who had before -spoken; "but you must come with us." - -Silently, and without even caring to take his bonnet from the table, -he accompanied his captors, looking round the vacant corridors and -halls with a feeling of desolation words cannot convey. Not one of all -his servants was to be seen; no familiar face presented itself; he was -all alone in the hands of an enemy. The truth had flashed upon his -mind at length, but how he knew not. Was it an instinct? was it the -accumulated memories of many little incidents in the past, each next -to nothing by itself, but swelling to a mountain by the piling of one -small grain upon another, which showed him now, that Ramiro d'Orco was -his foe, and had been compassing his destruction? Or was it that a -dark and terrible--almost prophetic warning, which that same man had -given him in the palace of Cæsar Borgia, came back to his recollection -then? - -That same man had said that he never forgave--that he never -forgot--that years might pass, circumstances change, the chain between -the present and the past seem severed altogether, and yet the memory -of an injury remain the only adamantine link unbroken. Lorenzo -remembered the words even then, as they marched him through the cold, -dark streets towards the citadel. He remembered, too, that by a fatal -error Ramiro had been led to think he had slighted his alliance, -destroyed his daughter's happiness, and treated her with scorn and -neglect. And now every courtesy he had received since he came to Imola -recurred to his memory as a menace which he should have heeded, every -smile as a lure which should have been avoided. How could he suppose, -he asked himself, that such a man as that would forget so great an -injury? how could he believe that he would so hospitably receive the -injurer without some dark and deadly purpose beneath the smooth -exterior? - -Thought after thought, all painful, flashed through his brain. They -were many--innumerable, and, ere he could give them any clear and -definite order, the gates of the citadel were opened for his entrance, -and a few minutes after, the low, damp dungeon of a murderer received -him. They left him in solitude and in darkness to all the bitterness -of thought; and then all that was to follow presented itself to his -mind in full and terrible array--the trial; the death; the disgrace; -the blighted name; the everlasting infamy. Oh! for the battle-field, -the cannon's roar, the splintering lance, the grinding wound, the -death of triumph and of glory! - -Vain wishes: the heavy iron door was there, barring from every active -scene of life; but that was not all he had to suffer that night. To -the felon's dungeon was to be added the felon's chains. The door -opened, the torchlight flashed in; fetters were placed upon his hands -and ankles, and the ring of the chain was fastened to a ring in the -wall. The guard withdrew, but left the door ajar, and a narrow line of -light marked the entrance. It grew fainter and fainter as the torches -receded, and then a human figure, like a dark shadow, crossed the -light as it became broader while some one entered. - -Could it be any one to bring him comfort? Oh no. The well-known voice -of Ramiro d'Orco spoke in its cold, calm accents. - -"Young man," it said, "you should beware when you are well warned. My -lord prefect, you have to die to-morrow. Make your peace with God, for -there is no help for you on earth. You shall have a fair trial in our -court, that all the world may know the proud Lorenzo Visconti has not -been condemned unjustly, but is truly guilty of the murder of a poor -defenceless woman--his own wife--and that history may record the fact -among the famous deeds of the great house of Milan. The proofs admit -of no doubt; so be prepared; and when the axe is about to fall, -remember me and Leonora d'Orco. - -"Man, you are deceived!" exclaimed Lorenzo. But Ramiro waited no -reply, and the heavy key turned in the open door. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV. - - -It was a bright and sunshiny morning--considering the season of the -year, more summer-like and warm than usual--and Leonora d'Orco sat in -her beautiful little garden without covering for her head, and with -her rich black hair in less trim array than usual, falling over her -lovely neck and shoulders. Her eyes were fixed upon the fountain in -its marble basin just before her, and there was something calm but -melancholy in their gaze. She watched the water as it sprung bounding -up, and then fell again in glittering drops, and presently the long, -jetty eyelashes overflowed with tears. - -"Poor unhappy girl!" she murmured: "the fountain of bright life is -dried up for her--the gay and sparkling drops all spent. Oh -Eloise--poor Eloise!" - -One of her maids came out and stood by her side; but Leonora did not -notice her, although the girl seemed anxious to tell her something. -Her lady turned away her eyes. Below, at the distance of about half a -mile, lay the city, with its dark walls and citadel strongly marked -out in the clear light, and she saw a horseman riding up at headlong -speed. - -"Who is that coming, Carlotta?" asked Leonora. "It is not my father -surely." - -"Oh, no, signora," replied the girl. "It looks like the maestro. He -will speak to you of what I was going to tell you." - -"What were you going to tell?" asked Leonora with sudden eagerness. - -"Oh! bad news, signora--nothing but bad news now," replied the girl: -"they say--I don't know how true it is, but Marco told me--they say -that the lord prefect was arrested last night by the Signor Ramiro's -order, for poisoning his lady." - -Leonora started up with a face as pale as death; but, after gazing on -the girl for a moment with a wild look, she seated herself again and -put her hand to her head. - -Two minutes had hardly passed ere Leonardo was seen hurrying along the -terrace, and the next moment he took her hand and kissed it. - -"Pardon, dear lady, pardon my abruptness; but I have no time to lose." - -"Speak! speak!" cried Leonardo, in a low but firm tone. "Let me hear -all and quickly." - -"The trial is over," said Leonora. "Your father would not preside; but -his creatures have condemned him. No time was allowed to summon other -witnesses. Some poison, concealed in the case of a portrait known to -be Lorenzo's, was found in the unhappy lady's chamber; a girl called -Giovanetta testified that her mistress and Friar Peter both told -her that two papers--one of which she tried upon a dog who died -instantly, and the other which her mistress took--were given to the -countess by her husband. Some other small circumstances of suspicion -appeared, and on this he was condemned, although there were numerous -inconsistencies. He is innocent, believe me; but in two hours he will -be done to death before the south gate, unless your father can be -persuaded to respite him. There are many in the town that are sure of -his innocence, but too few I fear-- - -"He is innocent! he is innocent!" cried Leonora, with her brow -burning, and her cheek pale. "He is innocent as a babe. I will go -down--I will return with you--I will see my father--I will save him or -die with him." - -"But, lady, they will let no one enter the town," said Leonardo; "they -have trebled the sentries at the gates. All may come forth who will, -but no one can return. So they told me as I passed; and, unless you -have the key of the postern, as you once had, I fear--" - -"I have--I have," said Leonora; "stay but one moment." - -She flew into the house and was but an instant gone. Leonardo saw her -hide something like a small vial in her bosom, but the large key was -in her hand; and merely beckoning him to follow, she ran down the -steps of the terrace, and through the garden toward the gate. Leonardo -followed rapidly, merely saying to the girl---- - -"Send down my horse to the gate." - -Leonora was at the postern first, however, but her hands so trembled -she could not put the key in the lock. The painter took it from her, -opened the little gate, and, passing in, she sped on towards the -citadel. She did not observe that Leonardo was no longer with her; -but, with frantic speed, and hair escaped from all its bindings, she -sped on through the almost deserted streets till she reached the gates -of the citadel. - -"Where is my father?" she cried; "where is the Lord of Imola?" - -"Why, lady," replied a man standing beside the sentinel, "he is not -here; he is in the bishop's piazza, waiting till the execution is -over. This is a terrible day, and will bring ruin on the city, I can -see." - -But ere his last words were uttered, Leonora was gone. - -Ramiro d'Orco truly stood in the square before the bishop's palace, -which was not two hundred yards from the south gate. His arms were -crossed upon his chest; his head was held high, his brow contracted; -his jaws so firmly set, that when he spoke, in answer to any of the -lords and officers who surrounded him, the sounds issued from between -his teeth, and his lips were hardly seen to move. - -"Do you not think, my lord, this is very dangerous," said one; "do you -remember he is the prefect?" - -"He himself decided yesterday at this very hour, that no rank can -shield a murderer from death," replied Ramiro d'Orco. - -"He made no defence," said another, "but denied the competence of your -court, declared the charge a lie, and appealed to the Pope and the -King of France." - -"He himself pronounced my court competent to all high justice, -yesterday," said Ramiro, drily. "Let him appeal. When his head is off, -they cannot put it on again. No more of this. He dies, if I live." - -A short pause ensued, and then a man was seen running rapidly up the -street which led toward the south gate. - -"Who is this?" asked Ramiro d'Orco. "They have not called noon from -the belfry yet, have they?" - -"No, my lord," answered a young priest; "it wants half an hour of -noon. But they have taken the prisoner down to the gate," he added, -well comprehending what was going on in the heart of his lord. "I saw -them pass as I came up a minute ago. But what has this fellow got in -his arms?" - -"He is one of the guards from the gates," said another; "and, by my -life, I think they must have anticipated the hour, for that is a man's -head he is carrying." - -"No great evil," murmured Ramiro d'Orco; but a moment after a soldier -reached the spot where they stood, and laid a bloody head at Ramiro's -feet. All, however, remarked that the hair was somewhat grey, and the -crown shaved. - -"A pennon of horse from his Highness the Duke of Valentinois is at the -gate, my lord, seeking admission," said the messenger, almost -breathless. "We did not admit them, as your lordship had ordered the -gates not to be opened; but the leader threw this head in through the -wicket, saying that the duke had sent it to you for the love he bears -you. It is Friar Peter's head, my lord; do you not see? and the -officer says he confessed last night having poisoned the Countess -Visconti. What are we to do?" - -A murmur of horror ran through the little crowd around, and a look of -relief and satisfaction at the timely intervention spread over almost -every countenance except that of Ramiro d'Orco, whose brow had -gathered into a deeper frown than ever. - -"What are we to do with the lord prefect?" asked the man again. - -"Hence, meddling fool!" exclaimed Ramiro d'Orco, stamping his foot -upon the ground. "Strike off his head! The sentence of my court shall -not be reversed. Strike off his head, I say! Wait no longer--'twill be -noon ere you reach the gate again. Away! Then open the gates. But mark -me, no delay, as you value your own life! Go fast, sirrah! Have your -feet no strength?" - -The soldier ran down the street in haste, and Ramiro turned his eyes -from the pained and anxious countenances around him; but it was only -to meet a sight that affected him still more. - -"Oh! I would have been spared this!" he cried, as Leonora rushed -toward him and cast herself at his feet. - -"My lord--my father!" she exclaimed, stretching out her hands towards -him, "spare him! spare him! He is innocent--you know he is innocent! -Lose not a moment--send down the pardon--some gentleman run down. He -pardons him. Be quick! oh be quick!" - -"Hold, on your lives!" cried Ramiro d'Orco, in a voice of thunder. -"Hence, girl. Take her away--some one take her away. He dies, if I -live!" - -"Then hear, Ramiro d'Orco!" cried Leonora, "send me to the block -instead of him. I poisoned her more surely than he did. See, here is -the poison. I am ready; take me to the block! I confess the crime. -But hear me, lords and gentlemen all: Lorenzo Visconti is -innocent--innocent of the death of his poor wife--innocent of the -neglect and insult my father thinks he offered me, and for which, in -truth, he does him to death; innocent of all offence, as this hard -parent will find when we are both in our still graves." - -"Ha! what is that?" exclaimed her father, gazing at her; "she -raves--take her away!" - -"I rave not. It is all true," cried Leonora; "so help me God, as he -has explained all. Will you send the pardon now? Oh, speak! speak!" - -"It is too late," said Ramiro, in a low and gloomy tone, pointing with -his hand down the street. - -Leonora turned and gazed, with her eyes almost starting from her head. -Four men were carrying a bier with something stretched upon it, and a -cloak thrown over all. Leonora sprung upon her feet, uttered a shriek -that rung through the whole square, and then fell senseless on the -ground. - -A brief lapse of forgetfulness came to that wrung and agonized heart, -and then she opened her eyes, but she closed them quickly again. She -fancied she was in a dream. What was it she thought she saw? The face -of Lorenzo Visconti bending over her; French soldiers all armed; the -banners of the Church mingled with others she knew not. Oh, it was a -dream--a deceitful dream! - -"Let me take her, Lorenzo," said a voice she had not heard for years; -"joy kills as well as sorrow. Leonora--cousin Leonora, it is De Vitry: -wake up--wake up. Things are not so bad as they seemed. It was the -corpse of a murdering villain you saw, justly condemned to death -yesterday at this hour. Visconti is safe." - -Leonora opened her eyes again, and found herself in the arms of De -Vitry. She gazed anxiously round. There stood Lorenzo with his head -uncovered, and his upper garment off; and a smile, like that of an -angel, came upon her lips; but when he advanced a step towards her, -she shrunk back in De Vitry's arms, murmuring, "Take me to my father! -Oh! where is my father?" and, covering her eyes with her hands, she -wept profusely. - -"A litter is coming speedily from the inn there," said Leonardo da -Vinci; "let me escort her, my lord. You have other matters to attend -to just now, and she will be well in privacy for a time. Here comes -Antonio with a litter." - -De Vitry lifted her in his stalwart arms, and placed her, as tenderly -as if she had been an infant, in the sort of covered bier then -commonly used in Italy by ladies too feeble or too timid to travel on -horseback. Leonardo drew the curtains round; but, leaning his hand -upon the woodwork, he walked on by her side, while four stout bearers -carried her on toward the gate leading to the villa. Twice Leonora -drew back the curtain and looked out. Once she asked, "Where is my -father? Is this all true, signor maestro, or am I dreaming still?" - -"Your father is at the citadel waiting for the French and Roman -lords," replied Leonardo. "All is real, my child, and happy is it that -it is so; for both Antonio and I had nearly been too late. The number -of men we could introduce last night was too small; and, had you not -left the postern key in my hands, the Lord of Vitry and the French -forces could hardly have entered ere the axe had fallen." - -Leonora shuddered and let fall the curtain; but after a moment or two -she looked out again on the other side, saying-- - -"Oh! good Antonio, is that you? Surely I saw him--surely I saw your -lord." - -"Yes, dear lady, you saw him safe," replied Antonio; "we were -preparing to force the gate; but we should have been too late had not -the maestro brought round the French forces from the other side of the -town and let us in." - -"God be praised!" murmured Leonora; "but oh, Antonio, does any one -believe him guilty still? If they do, that will kill him by a sharper -death than that of the axe. - -"No one does--no one can," replied Antonio. "Mardocchi--that is, -Father Peter--made full confession last night of the darkest and most -damnable plot that ever was hatched. I could not tell the Duke of -Valentinois all, for there were many things I could not discover; but -when I showed him plainly that Mardocchi had betrayed some of his most -terrible secrets, he had him put to the torture; and then the -bloody-minded knave confessed the whole, filling up all the gaps that -my tale had left. The duke showed no reverence for his shaved head, -but struck it off, and sent it to Imola, with his whole evidence -written down by the Dominican who was there present. No, no, lady, no -one can entertain even a suspicion now." - -"Thank God for that also," said Leonora, in a low tone. "Oh, this has -been a terrible day." - -Again she let fall the curtain of the litter; and the bearers moved -slowly up the hill. They carried her along the terrace to her own -saloon; but when they stopped, and Leonardo would have aided her to -descend, they found her sound asleep. - -Tired nature, exhausted with the conflict of passions, had given way, -and slumber had sealed her eyes at the first touch of returning peace. -There was a sweet, well-contented smile upon her lips, but Leonardo -marked a bright red spot upon her cheek, and calling her maids to her, -he himself stayed at the villa till she awoke. The burning fever was -already upon her; her words were incoherent, her pulse beating -terribly. For fourteen days Leonora d'Orco hung between life and -death; and happy was it, perhaps, that anything occurred to place a -veil between her eyes and the last terrible act of the drama in which -she herself had borne so conspicuous a part. - -Every one at all acquainted with Italian history knows what followed; -how Cæsar Borgia, about four days after the events last recorded had -taken place, commanded the personal attendance of Ramiro d'Orco on his -terrible and treacherous march to Senegaglia; how Ramiro found himself -compelled to obey, both by the presence of the French and the papal -troops in his capital, and by fear lest his machinations against -Lorenzo Visconti should be too closely investigated; and how his dead -body was found one morning out in two pieces, in the marketplace of -Bologna. None knew how he died, or by whose command; and Leonora never -suspected that he had suffered a violent death. - -That he was dead they told her as soon as she could bear such tidings; -and under the escort of De Vitry and his forces she joined Bianca -Maria and returned, after some months, to the Milanese. At the end of -some fifteen or sixteen months, Lorenzo Visconti and Leonora d'Orco -cast off the garb of mourning, and united their fates for ever. It was -on the day when she reached her twenty-first birthday; and if the -reader will look back through this veracious history, he will see that -few so young have ever gone through such varied and terrible griefs -and trials; nor will he wonder that, while I say Leonora d'Orco was at -last happy, I add, that a shade of melancholy mingled with her joy, -and that the dark cloud of memory still hung over the past, forming a -sombre background to the sparkling sunshine of the present. - - - - -FOOTNOTES - - -[Footnote 1: Paul Jovius describes these guns--the embryo musket--amongst -the arms of the Swiss infantry, which did such good service in the -campaign against Naples. They were at first looked upon with great -contempt by the men-at-arms.] - -[Footnote 2: The facts alleged against Alexander by the cardinal were, -unfortunately, only too notorious, and the letters produced were the -authentic letters of Borgia and Bajazet. They are still extant and -authenticated by the Apostolic notary. In one from the pope to the -sultan he demands "_ut placeat sibi_ (Bajazet) _quam citius mittera. -nobis ducatos quadraginta millia in auro venetos, pro annata anni -praesentis, quae finiet ultimo die novembris_," and Bajazet sweetly -suggests to his Christian ally, "_dictum Gem_ (Zizim) _levare facere -ex augustiis istius mundi et transferri ejus animam in alterum -saeculum ubi meliorem habebit quietem_," promising him three hundred -thousand ducats as soon as the corpse is delivered to his (Bajazet's) -agents.] - -[Footnote 3: The Kings of France always claimed to be such, and the bishop -flattered the monarch's pride by the allusion.] - - - -THE END. - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Leonora D'Orco, by -G. P. R. 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A Historical Romance.</title> -<meta name="Author" content="G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James"> - -<meta name="Publisher" content="Alphons Dürr"> -<meta name="Date" content="1860"> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> -<style type="text/css"> -body {margin-left:10%; - margin-right:10%; background-color:#FFFFFF;} - - -p.normal {text-indent:.25in; text-align: justify;} -.center {margin: auto; text-align:center; margin-top:24pt; margin-bottom:24pt} - - - -p.right {text-align:right; margin-right:20%;} - -p.continue {text-indent: 0in; margin-top:9pt;} -.text10 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:10%; margin-right:0px; font-size:90%;} -.text20 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:20%; margin-right:0px; font-size:90%;} - - -.poem0 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 0%; - margin-right: 0%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - -.poem1 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 2em; - margin-right: 10%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - -.poem2 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 20%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - -.poem3 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 30%; - margin-right: 30%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - - -.t0 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:0em; margin-right:0em;} -.t1 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:1em; margin-right:0em;} -.t2 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em;} -.t3 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:3em; margin-right:0em;} -.t4 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:4em; margin-right:0em;} -.t5 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:5em; margin-right:0em;} - - -.quote {text-indent:.25in; text-align: justify; font-size:90%; margin-top:36pt; margin-bottom:36pt} -.ctrquote {text-align: center; font-size:90%; margin-top:36pt; margin-bottom:36pt} - -.dateline {text-align:right; font-size:90%; margin-right:10%; margin-top:24pt; margin-bottom:24pt} - -h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 {text-align: center;} - -span.sc {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:110%;} -span.sc2 {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:90%;} - -hr.W10 {width:10%; color:black; margin-top:0pt; margin-bottom:0pt} - -hr.W20 {width:20%; color:black; margin-top:12pt; margin-bottom:12pt} - -hr.W50 {width:50%; color:black;} -hr.W90 {width:90%; color:black;} - -p.hang1 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:-3em;} -p.hang2 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:0em;} - - -</style> - -</head> - -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Leonora D'Orco, by -G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Leonora D'Orco - A Historical Romance - -Author: G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James - -Release Date: January 18, 2016 [EBook #50964] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEONORA D'ORCO *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (the New York Public Library) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br> -1. Page scan source: Google Books -https://books.google.com/books?id=xUtMAAAAcAAJ<br> -(the New York Public Library)</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>DÜRR'S COLLECTION OF STANDARD</h4> -<h3>AMERICAN AND BRITISH<br> -AUTHORS.</h3> -<br> -<h5>EDITED<br> -<span style="font-size:smaller">BY</span><br> -WILLIAM E. DRUGULIN.<br> -<br> -<span style="font-size:smaller">VOL. 50</span>.</h5> -<hr class="W10"> - -<h3>LEONORA D'ORCO.</h3> -<h5>BY</h5> -<h4>G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>LEONORA D'ORCO.</h3> -<h4>A HISTORICAL ROMANCE.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<h5>BY</h5> -<br> -<h4>G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ.,</h4> -<h5>AUTHOR OF "LORD MONTAGU'S PAGE," "THE OLD DOMINION,"<br> -"TICONDEROGA," "AGNES SOREL," ETC.</h5> -<br> -<br> -<h4>COPYRIGHT EDITION.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<hr class="W90"> -<h4>LEIPZIG: ALPHONS DÜRR</h4> -<h4>1860.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>LEONORA D'ORCO.</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER I.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">There is a mountain pass, not far from the shores of the Lago -Maggiore, which has been famous of late years for anything but <i>fêtes</i> -and festivals. There, many an unfortunate traveller has been relieved -of the burden of worldly wealth, and sometimes of all earthly cares; -and there, many a postillion has quietly received, behind an oak-tree -or a chesnut, a due share of the day's earnings from a body of those -Italian gentlemen whose life is generally spent in working upon the -highways, either with a long gun in their hands or a chain round their -middles.</p> - -<p class="normal">But, dear reader, the times I speak of were centuries ago--those named -"the good old times," though Heaven only knows why they were called -"good."</p> - -<p class="normal">The world was in a very strange state just then. The resurrection of -art--the recovery of letters--the new birth of science, marked out the -age as one of extraordinary development; but the state of society -from which all these bright things sprang--flowers rising from a -dunghill--was one of foul and filthy fermentation, where every -wickedness that the corrupt heart of man can devise worked and -travailed for the birth of better things. That pass, in those "good -old times," saw every day as much high-handed wrong and ruthless -bloodshed as any pass in all Italy at the present time.</p> - -<p class="normal">But such was not destined to be the case upon the present occasion, -though the times of which I write were the end of the fifteenth and -the beginning of the sixteenth centuries. Guilt, and fraud, and even -murder, often in those days covered themselves with golden embroidery -and perfumed flowers; and, interposed between acts of violence, -rapine, and destruction, were brilliant festivals, the luxurious -banquet, and the merry dance.</p> - -<p class="normal">Wickedness, like virtue, proposes to itself enjoyment for its object; -and the Bible is right when, as it often does, it uses the word wisdom -as synonymous with virtue, for in the wisdom of the means is the -certainty of the attainment. But the men of those days, as if they -felt--how could they avoid feeling?--the insecurity of the ground on -which they based their endeavours for the acquisition of happiness, -were content to take the distant and doubtful payment by instalments -of fruition, and let the revel, the pageant, the debauch go to the -great reckoning as so much gained, without thinking of the terrible -<i>per contra</i>.</p> - -<p class="normal">That pass was well fitted to afford a scene for many of the dealings -of those or these days. There the robber might lurk perfectly -concealed in the dark nooks and crannies of the rocks, to spring forth -upon the unwary traveller when least prepared--there a handful of men -might defend the passage against an army--there, the gay, happy party -might raise the wild echo of the mountains to their joyous songs--and -there the artist might linger for long hours, studying the fantastic -shapes into which the ground has been thrown, and filling up the -shadowy recesses with forms such as Rosa loved to draw.</p> - -<p class="normal">For somewhat less than two miles, the road, which, even in those days, -was a good and well-constructed highway, passed between two ranges of -rocks. On one side--the left hand, going north--a stream ran by the -side of the path, some twenty feet below its level; but the bank -itself could be easily descended to the river, and the stream, though -deep in some places, was easily to be crossed at others, where it -spread out over fallen rocks and stones. But what was the use of -crossing it? On the other side was no path, and nothing but tall, -ragged cliffs, in some places upright and flat, as if they had been -cut with a knife, in others assuming the most wild and fantastic -forms. Here was a strange grinning face, of gigantic size, starting -forth in stone from the surface of the cliff; there a whole statue -standing out from the rocky mass, as if a sentinel guarding the pass; -then would come a castle with towers and keep, ballium and barbican -and all, and yet nought but mere rock, wrought by no hands but those -of time, earthquake, and tempest. But every here and there, from -pinnacle and point, or out of dell and cavern, would spring a dark -pine or light green ash; and the sight of even vegetable life would -harmonize the scene with human thoughts.</p> - -<p class="normal">The average width of the bottom of the valley, including river and -road, might be a hundred yards; but there was one place, nearly at the -middle of the gorge--probably where, in ages far remote, before -history or even tradition began, the stream, rushing new-born from the -mountains, had paused in its course to gather strength ere it forced -its way through the rocky barrier opposed to it--in which a little -amphitheatre appeared, the mountains receding on either hand to let -the river make a circuit round a low knoll and its adjacent meadow, -some three hundred yards across. A clump of trees had gathered -together on the top of the little hillock, the turf was short and -smooth; the stream, though still rapid, and fretting at the fallen -stones in its way, had less of the torrent-like turbulence which it -displayed where the pass was narrower; now and then, too, it would -lapse into a quiet, deep, unruffled pool, where the many-coloured -rocks and pebbles at the bottom could be seen, glazed and brightened -by its crystal waters; and the white clouds, floating over the deep -blue Italian sky, would seem to pause, with curious pleasure, in their -flight, to look down for a moment on that fair spot, amid so much -stony ruggedness.</p> - -<p class="normal">Through this wild gorge, toward noon of a soft but breezy spring day -in the year of grace 1494, coming from the northwest, rode a gay, a -numerous, and a brilliant party; too few, indeed, to constitute an -army, but too many and too well armed to fear the attack of any party -of banditti less in number than those great mercenary bands whose -leisure in those days was seldom long enough to rob on their own -account, so great was the demand for their services, in the same way, -among the princes of the land. And yet the cavalcade of which I speak -did not altogether assume a military aspect. It is true that the rear -was brought up by a body of a couple of hundred lances, and that -between these and those who rode foremost were a number of gentlemen, -old and young, from beneath whose surcoats glanced corslet and -cuissard, and who, though they rode with velvet cap on head and -sometimes a hawk upon the wrist, had helmet, and lance, and shield -near at hand, borne by gay and splendidly-dressed pages. But the most -remarkable group had no warlike signs about it. All men but -ecclesiastics and serfs, in those days, bore some kind of arms during -their most peaceful avocations; and thus there were swords and daggers -enough among the little party; but there were men in the robes of the -Church--bishops, and archdeacons, and even a monk or two, while those -of secular habit looked more like the carpet-treading, soft-lying -children of a court than warriors born for strife and conquest.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thrown a little in advance of the mass rode two men-at-arms, heavily -harnessed, and behind them, at perhaps twenty paces distance, five or -six others, lance in hand. Then, however, came the principal group, at -the head of which, with a crimson velvet bonnet or round cap on his -head, ornamented with a single large ruby clasping a long, thin -feather, appeared, as it seemed, a mere youth. He was short in -stature, and somewhat, though not remarkably, deformed; at least, the -fall of his wide and fur-trimmed mantle concealed in a great degree -the defect of symmetry in his figure. All, indeed, had been done that -the tailor's courtly art could do to conceal it, and the eye was more -inclined to rest upon the countenance than upon the form. The face was -not very handsome, but there was a frank, bold expression about it -which won upon the regard at first sight; and yet a certain look of -suffering--the trace, as it seemed, of a struggle between a high -courage and bodily infirmity--saddened his aspect. A mere passing -stranger would have fixed the age of that young horseman probably at -eighteen or nineteen, but he had seen, in reality, between twenty-two -and twenty-three years; and although many vicissitudes had not -attended his course, enough experience of the world, and courts, and -men, had been his to have made him older in appearance and older in -mind than he was.</p> - -<p class="normal">Grouped half a step behind this figure, and stretching quite across -the road--for no one would yield a place which he could fairly claim -near the fountain of all honour and the source of advancement--were a -number of cavaliers, of all sorts of callings, distinguished in -general by some peculiarity of costume. At least, any eye accustomed -to the dress of that day could distinguish among them the hard old -warrior, the bishop, the high officer of the law, and gay and gallant -courtiers not a few, among whom, holding their rank immediately behind -the principal personage, were six pages, habited in what was called -purple cloth of gold, mounted on light but beautiful horses, bedizened -with silken housings, and knots of ribbons, and flaunting feathers.</p> - -<p class="normal">Among these last was no rivalry for place, for each had his particular -station assigned to him; but with the rest an occasional angry word, -and a more frequent angry look, would mark the indignation of some -aspiring courtier at what he thought an attempt upon the part of -another to get before him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My Lord of Tremouille," said one sharply, "I wish you would refrain -your horse; I have hardly space to ride."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He will not be refrained, my reverend lord," replied the other, "'tis -an ambitious beast, well nigh as aspiring as a churchman. He will -forward, whatever be in his way. Good sooth, he knows his place well -too, and thinks that, though he might make a poor show in a king's -closet, he may be found better near his sovereign in the march or the -battle than any of the mules of the Church."</p> - -<p class="normal">The words were spoken in no very low tone, and probably they reached -the ears of the young man at the head of the cavalcade; but he took no -notice, though the prelate turned somewhat red, and several who were -near laughed low; and a moment or two after, the whole party emerged -from the narrower part of the gorge into that little amphitheatre -which I have lately described.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, what is here?" cried the leader of the band, reining up his -horse. "This is a scene of fairy land? Who expected to meet with such -a spectacle in this desert?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, sire," replied the prelate, "you may remember his Excellency the -Regent of Milan promised to meet you somewhere near this spot--at -least before you reached the city."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, Louis the Moor knows where to lay chaff for young birds," -muttered La Tremouille; "commend me to these Italians for wheedling -and trickery."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush, hush!" said one of his companions; "you cannot deny, -Tremouille, that this Ludovic is a stout and skilful soldier, as well -as a shrewd politician. I know not how he gained the name of 'The -Moor,' but----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, they gave him the name because all his relations die black, or -turn black after they die," answered the gallant soldier, with a -bitter laugh; "but, on my life, the pageant is pretty. 'Tis a -gallantry not expected in this wild place. Only, my good friend, look -to what wine you drink at Ludovic's expense; it sometimes has a -strange taste, and stranger consequences, men say, especially upon his -enemies."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am no enemy," answered the other; "you, look to yourself, -Tremouille. You must either dare the boccone or die of thirst."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, he will find out that I am one of his best friends," answered La -Tremouille; "for I would fain have dissuaded the king from this wild -expedition; and Master Ludovic, who urged it so strongly, will find, -before he has done, that, ask a Frenchman to dinner, and he'll stay to -supper also."</p> - -<p class="normal">The scene which had excited so much surprise, and even admiration -among the French, derived its principal interest from the ruggedness -of the objects around. Some twenty or thirty small tents had been -pitched in the little meadow, round which the river circled, each with -its pennon fluttering from the top of the gilt pole which supported -it, while the group of trees upon the little monticule in the midst -was so interlaced, at some eight feet from the ground, with ribbons -and festoons of flowers, that it afforded as complete a shade from the -sun as any of the pavilions. The trunks of the trees, too, were bound -round with garlands, and although neither Tasso nor Guarini had yet -fully revived the taste for the pastoral amongst the Italian people, -the groups which were seen, both in the tents and under the branches, -were all habited as shepherds and shepherdesses, according to the most -approved notions of Golden Age costume in those days.</p> - -<p class="normal">In each of the pavilions, the canvas door of which was thrown wide -open, was spread a table apparently well supplied, and beneath the -trees appeared a kingly board covered with fine linen and rich plate, -while a buffet behind groaned beneath a mass of gold and silver. But -the sharp eye of La Tremouille soon espied that the two shepherds who -stood at either end of the buffet, as well as two more behind it, were -especially well armed for a pastoral race; and he did not fail to -comment with a laugh upon the anomaly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh! pooh!" cried the young King Charles VIII., turning his head -over his shoulder to the stout soldier, but smiling at his remarks, -"why should not shepherds have arms? They must defend their muttons, -especially when such wolves as you are about!"</p> - -<p class="normal">La Tremouille answered with a proverb of very ancient date, "Well, -sire, they cannot say I am a wolf in sheep's clothing. God send your -majesty may not find some in this country, where they are plenty, I am -told. Will you not dismount, sire, to do honour to this festa?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But where are our hosts?" asked Charles, looking round. "My Lord -Archbishop, can you distinguish among the shepherds, Prince Ludovic or -his fair lady? You have had advantage of us all in seeing their -Highnesses."</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my hopes, sire, I cannot tell which they are, if they be here," -replied the prelate. "Here, pretty maiden, will you let us know who is -the lord of this feast, and who are to be the guests?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The last words were spoken in Italian to a very handsome, dark-eyed -shepherdess, who, with a coquettish air, had passed somewhat near the -royal party. But the girl merely replied by the word "Hark!" bending -her head on one side and affecting to listen attentively. A moment -after, the flourish of some trumpets was heard from the continuation -of the pass on the other side of the meadow; and La Tremouille, -turning round, gave some orders in a low tone to one of his -attendants. By him they were carried to the rear, and immediately the -party of lances which formed the king's escort put itself in motion, -and spread out round one side of the meadow in the form of a crescent, -leaving the monarch and his immediate attendants grouped on horseback -in the midst.</p> - -<p class="normal">If this was a movement of precaution against any party approaching -from the other side, it was unnecessary. A moment after, on the -opposite side of the meadow, issuing from the gorge like a stream of -gold, appeared a cavalcade which the chroniclers of the day have -delighted to describe as the height of splendour and magnificence. At -its head appeared Ludovico Sforza, nicknamed "the Moor," accompanied -by the Princess of Ferrara his young wife, and followed by the whole -court of Milan, each vying with the other in luxury and display. "The -princess," says an Italian writer of the day, "was mounted on a superb -horse, covered with cloth of gold and crimson velvet. She wore a dress -of green cloth of gold, floating over which was a light gauze. Her -hair, only bound by a ribbon, fell gracefully upon her shoulders -and upon her bosom. On her head she bore a hat of crimson silk, -surmounted by five or six feathers of red and grey. Her suite -comprised twenty-two ladies of the first rank, all dressed like -herself, and six cars followed, covered with cloth of gold, and filled -with the rarest beauties of Italy."</p> - -<p class="normal">It would be tedious as well as difficult to give any description of -the scene that followed. The two parties soon mingled together. -Ceremony and parade were forgotten in gallantry and enjoyment. The -younger men at once gave themselves up to the pleasures of the hour, -and even the older and more sedate warriors and counsellors soon shook -off their frosty reserve under the warming influence of beauty and -wine; and thus began the expedition of Charles VIII. to Naples, more -like some festal pilgrimage than the hostile invasion of a neighbour's -dominions. Thus it began, and thus it proceeded till the end was -obtained, and then the scene changed to hard blows instead of feasts -and pageants, and care and anxiety instead of revelry and enjoyment.</p> - -<p class="normal">I have said it would be tedious to describe what followed; but there -were episodes in the little drama acted in that wild amphitheatre -which connect themselves with my story, and must be told.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER II.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">General conversation between the two courts of France and Milan was -somewhat difficult; for, to say sooth, there were many there who could -not speak the language of their neighbours, or spoke it very -imperfectly. But Frenchmen, and Italians likewise, are famous for -delivering themselves from such difficulties. They talk with a happy -carelessness of whether they are understood or not, and eke out the -defect of language with a sign or gesture. But there were some, there -present, to whom both tongues were familiar; and while the King of -France sat beneath the trees with Lodovico Sforza and his lovely wife, -one of the youths who had followed him might be seen at the other side -of the little grove, stretched easily on the ground between two young -girls who had accompanied the princess, and with one of whom, at -least, his acquaintance seemed of early date.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man was tall, well formed, and handsome; and he looked older -than he really was, for he had not yet seen more than eighteen -summers. The two girls were younger still, neither having reached the -age of fifteen years. Both gave promise of exceeding beauty--otherwise -perhaps they would have been excluded from the gay train of the -princess; but, though womanhood ripens earlier under Italian skies -than in colder climates, they were still evidently in girlhood, and, -what was more rare, they had apparently preserved all the freshness -and innocent frankness of their age.</p> - -<p class="normal">One called the young man "Cousin Lorenzo," and teased him gaily with -criticisms of his dress and appearance; vowed he had promised to bring -back a beard from France, and yet he had not even a moustache; -declared that she abominated the hair cut short before and hanging -down behind after the French mode, and assumed that the large sleeves -of his surcoat must be made to carry provisions in, not only for -himself, but for all his company. She was the younger of the two, and -probably not yet fourteen years of age; and though there was a world -of merriment in her sparkling blue eyes, and a gay, bright smile kept -playing lightly round her lips, yet it would have been a hard critic -who could, in her, have discovered any of that coquetry from which -even her age is not exempt. On the contrary, she seemed to strive to -direct her cousin's admiration to her fair companion, who, in her -eyes, was the most beautiful and perfect creature in the universe; -and, in truth, there was many a one in after days who thought so to -his cost.</p> - -<p class="normal">Very different in personal appearance was she from her younger -companion: tall for her age, and of that light, slender form which, in -early youth, often promises the rich, flowing contour at an after -period, which Guido loved, and even Raphael and Julio Romano did not -undervalue. She was dark in complexion, too--that is to say, her hair -was black as a raven's wing; and her full, almond-shaped eyes, with -the lashes that shaded them, and the arched eyebrows above were dark -as the hair. But yet there was something that softened all. Either it -was the flowing of the lines into each other, or the happy blending of -the tints, but nothing in the face or form was sharp or too defined. -The skin was clear, and soft, and bright--so far dark, indeed, as to -harmonize with the hair and eyes; but through the slight olive tint of -southern climes shone the clear, warm rose of health; and, over all, -youth and dawning womanhood shed their thousand inexpressible graces, -like the winged loves which, in one of Albano's pictures, flutter -round the Goddess of Beauty. She was gay, too--gay even as her -bright-eyed companion at times; but it was with sudden fits and -starts; and every now and then would intervene lapses of thought, as -if she were questioning with herself of things beyond her knowledge. -It is not rare to find that a thoughtful youth ripens into a -passionate maturity. Her dress was one common at that day, we find, in -the court of Ferrara; but it had not long been the mode in any part of -Italy; and to the eyes of the young Lorenzo, who had been nearly two -years absent from his native country, it seemed strange and hardly -decent. It consisted of a robe somewhat like that of the princess, -except that the ground of the cloth of gold, instead of green, was of -a pale delicate rose colour. The sleeves, in the young girl's case, -fitted tight to the rounded arms, but the front of each, from the -shoulder nearly to the wrist, was cut open, showing the chemise of -snowy lawn, except where, every two or three inches, a small jewel, in -the form of a button, gathered the edges of the cloth of gold -together. The robe in front also was thrown back from the neck and -bosom, which was only shaded by the profuse curls of jetty hair. -Instead of the small hat, with its plume of feathers, worn by the wife -of the regent, a veil of rich black lace, fastened at the back of the -head with a jewelled pin, thence to the shoulders; and round her waist -was a knotted cord of gold, the tassels of which, strangely twisted -and contorted, fell almost to her feet.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the appearance of Leonora d'Orco at the age of fourteen, or -very little more. Of that which is beyond appearance I may have -occasion to speak hereafter.</p> - -<p class="normal">Facts may seem trite, which nevertheless must be said in explanation -of the character he depicts by any one who writes the history of -another. We lose the key of a cabinet, nearly new, perhaps, and we -send to a vender of old iron to see if we cannot find one to fit it. -We select one and then another for trial, and find at length a key -which seems to conform to the shape of the keyhole. Would any one -object to its trial because it is old and rust-worn? Well, it is old; -it may have served in a hundred locks before, for aught we know; but -it fits, and opens, and shuts this lock, and that is all we have to do -with it.</p> - -<p class="normal">It has often been said, and was frequently insisted upon by Goethe, -that each human being is a different being at each period of his age -from that which he was at an anterior period. The very substance of -the body, say the physiologists, is entirely changed in every seven -years. What of the mind? Do cares, and sorrows, and experience, and -joys, and hopes, and fruitions, effect no change in it? God forbid! If -we believe the mind immortal, and not subject, like the body, to death -and resurrection, still greater must be the changes; for its state -must be progressive towards evil or towards good. Expansion certainly -comes with knowledge; every day has its lesson, its reproof, its -encouragement; and the very development or decay of the mortal frame -affects the tenant within--hardens, strengthens, elevates, instructs; -or, entenders, enfeebles, depresses, depraves. Suffice it here to say, -that perhaps no one ever in life experienced greater changes of -thought, feeling, character, than Leonora d'Orco, as the winged -moments flew over her head. And yet the indestructible essence was the -same; every essential element remained; it was but the combinations -that were modified. A few years later, had you asked her if she had -ever felt such sensations, or thought such thoughts as she felt and -thought now, she would instantly have said "No;" but one moment's -lifting of the veil which hides the pictures of the past would have -shown her that she had felt, had thought such things; one moment's -scrutiny of her own heart would have shown her that, in another form, -she felt them, thought them still.</p> - -<p class="normal">But let us regard her only in the present. See how her eye sparkles, -how her lip wreaths itself in smiles, and how the joyous laugh breaks -forth clear, and sweet, and musical, finding expression not only in -its own melodious tones, but in every feature--aye, and even in the -colour that rises in a gay bashfulness, and spreads suddenly over -cheek and brow, as if a ray of morning sunshine had found its way -through the green branches and lighted up her face. And then all is -still again--still, and quiet, and thoughtful--and her eyes bend down -and the long lashes kiss her cheek--and the rose has faded away--and -the clear skin is paler than before, till something from one or the -other of her gay companions awakens merriment again, and then she -changes once more with the sudden change of mountain skies.</p> - -<p class="normal">But see! they are talking of more serious matters now.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not enter Milan!" cries Leonora; "not enter beautiful Milan! Signor -Lorenzo, how is that? Have you lost all love and pride in your own -fair country?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must not enter Milan," he answered with a sigh; "but if I might, -Leonora, I could not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But why--why?" she asked eagerly; "are you one of the exiles? Oh, if -that is so, the princess loves me well, and besides, when you come -with the King of France, a guest of Count Ludovic, the past must be -forgotten in the present, and you be welcomed too. Oh, do not say you -will not come."</p> - -<p class="normal">She spoke eagerly, and then cast down her eyes, for his met hers with -a look too full of admiration to be mistaken.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not ask him--do not ask him," said sweet Bianca Maria di Rovera; -"he is going to my grandfather's villa till the king marches on. That -is already settled, Leonora."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And you never told me, when your grandfather engaged us to go there -too," said Leonora; "but how will the King of France be pleased?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has given permission," answered Lorenzo; "he understands well that -the son of Carlo Visconti could only enter Milan in one manner."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young girl bent her head, and only answered, in a low tone, "I -would fain hear more. It seems to me a strange arrangement."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall hear all, at some other time and place, Signora Leonora," -replied Lorenzo: "every minute I expect the trumpets to sound to -horse; and my tale, which is a sad one, should have some quiet spot -for the telling, and evening skies, and few listeners near."</p> - -<p class="normal">The listeners, indeed, were, or might be, too many in a place where -all was suspicion and much was danger. Every instant some one was -passing near them--either one of the pastoral gentry who had waited -for the meeting of the two courts, or some one from the suites of the -two princes.</p> - -<p class="normal">The latter part of the lad's reply seemed at once to awaken Leonora to -the necessity of caution. Her younger companion, indeed, who seemed -ignorant of her cousin's early history, pressed him with girlish -eagerness to tell all then and there; but the other, who even then -knew more of Italian life--not without an effort, yet with much -delicacy of judgment and feeling--directed their conversation into -other channels, and soon brought back the gaiety and the sparkle which -at that time was cultivated almost as an art by the higher classes of -Italy. Speedily thought, and sentiment, and mood followed the course -of even such light things as words: serious topics and dark -remembrances, and even present dangers and discomforts, were -forgotten;--and, as if in order to give relief to the lights in the -future of life some dark shades were needed--the young three there -gathered appeared to find in the faint allusion made to more painful -things an accession of gaiety and enjoyment. The strangeness of first -acquaintance was cast away between the two who had never met before. -Bianca Maria, or Blanche Marie, as the French would have termed her, -forgot how long a time had passed since she had seen her cousin, and -all for the time was once more joy and light-hearted merriment. The -same spirit <i>seemed</i> to pervade the whole party there assembled. It is -hard to say <i>seemed</i>, for any eye that gazed upon that scene would -have boldly concluded that all was peace and joy.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh, false word! Oh, false seeming! There was doubt, and fear, and -malevolence, and treachery there in many a heart; and of all the -groups into which those two gay courts had separated themselves, -perhaps reality, and enjoyment, and careless mirth were more truly to -be found among those three young people, who, forgetful of courtly -ceremony, had taken their seats beneath the trees on the west of the -knoll, with their backs turned toward the royal and princely -personages present. They, at least, knew how to enjoy the hour; and -there let us leave them, with the benediction and applause of Lorenzo -the Magnificent upon them:</p> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:10pt"> -<pre> - - "Quant' e bella giovinezza - Che si fugge tuttavia - Chi vuol esser lietto, sia - Di doman non c'e certezza." - -</pre> -</div> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER III.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">If the world be a stage, as the greatest of earth's poets has -said, -and all the men and women in it merely players, human life divides -itself not only into acts, but scenes. The drop curtain falls for a -longer or a shorter period; and, without whistle or call, the place is -shifted, and the interval is filled up with nought which affects the -actors before the public, or the general course of their own parts, or -the end of the great drama played. Let us pass over the mere shiftings -of the scene; the pompous reception of Charles VIII. in Milan; the -time he wasted there in youthful merriment and courtly gallantry; the -intrigues ending in nothing which went on during his stay in the -Lombard capital; all the French <i>gaietè de coeur</i> with which the -dashing and daring warriors of the most charming land in the world cut -a throat, or make love, or stake a fortune on a card--let us pass them -all by, with the exception of one slight incident, which had some -influence upon the fate of one of our principal characters.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is very customary--indeed, it is always customary with men -of impulse, especially when the impulses are impetuous and -ill-regulated--for persons possessing great power to be awed, as it -were, for a short time by the terrible responsibilities of their -position--to seek uninterrupted thought, with an endeavour in their -own mind to find support under the weight from their own intellect, -or, frustrated in their dependence upon so frail a reed, to apply to a -higher guide, who can give not only direction but strength--not only -counsel but capability. There is many an occasion in which the most -self-relying and resolute feels the need of an intelligence higher -than his own, and a force beyond the force of his own character.</p> - -<p class="normal">In many respects the character of Charles VIII. was to be admired. His -expedition to Italy was rash, ill-conceived, and ill-executed; but the -conception was great, the objects when rightly viewed, noble, and the -result, though not fortunate, such as showed in the young king the -higher qualities of fortitude, resolution, and that courage which -crushes obstacles by boldly confronting them. But many a time Charles -doubted of his own course--only, indeed, in times of success and -seeming prosperity--and asking himself whether that course was right, -was prudent, was wise, sought guidance and instruction from on high.</p> - -<p class="normal">On these occasions he avoided all companionship, and asked direction -from the throne of wisdom in solitary prayer. It was thus he came -forth in the early morning to the Church of St. Stephen, attended only -by a single page, and habited plainly enough to attract no attention. -He had entered the chapel of St. Ambrose, the patron saint of the -city, and was in the very act of kneeling, when the voices of two -other men, speaking somewhat loud in the general stillness, attracted -his attention.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah!" said the one, "it was there he slew him, and had there been men -to second him, Lombardy would have now been free."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It goes about the city," said the other, "that young Lorenzo, his -son, is close at the gates of Milan, ready to avenge his father's -death upon the Sforzeschi."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He had better look to his own safety," replied the first speaker, -"for he has to do with powerful enemies, and what the strong hand and -the sword cannot accomplish, the dagger or the cup can perchance -perform."</p> - -<p class="normal">The king listened, but nothing more of interest met his ear, and when -his prayer was finished he returned to his private cabinet, and wrote -a few words in haste, without consulting even his most approved -counsellors. It was done; and then he rang a little hand-bell on the -table. It was not like a modern bell, being four-sided, but it had a -good, loud sound, and it immediately brought an attendant from the -ante-room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Call hither the Baron de Vitry," said the king. He spoke of that De -Vitry who was the ancestor of the well-known Marechal de Vitry, and -who, a few days after, became Marquis de Vitry on the death of his -father. "Tell him to be quick, for he sleeps late when there is no -fighting to be done."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man hastened away to execute his commands, but it was some twenty -minutes before the officer summoned appeared, and then, to say sooth, -he was but imperfectly apparelled. There was a point here and there -untrussed, and his collar was certainly not placed in its usual and -intended position--indeed, some severe critics of costume might have -supposed that it was turned wrong side before.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Always behind, De Vitry," said the monarch, who had grown impatient -in waiting.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was not behind at St. Aubin, sire," replied the young officer with -a gay confidence; "but, sire, we were bound to sit up so late last -night for the honour of France that our eyes had leaden weights upon -them this morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, a revel, of course," said the king; "too much revelling, De -Vitry. We must think of more serious things."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good faith! sire, we are all ready," replied the young officer; "we -only revel because we have nought else to do. While your majesty and -your wise counsellors are gravely deliberating in the cabinet, we have -nought else to do but dance, and drink, and sing in the hall; and I am -sure you, sire, would not have us behind the Italian in dancing and -drinking, when they go so far before us in singing; but only give us -something else to do, and we are ready to ride, or fight, or work in -any way tomorrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young king mused for a moment, and then murmured the words, "A -just reproof!" Then taking the paper he had written, he added, "Take a -hundred men of your company of ordnance, De Vitry, and set out at once -toward Vigevano. Five miles on this side of the town, on the bank of -the Ticino, you will find a villa belonging to the Count of Rovera. -There you will find young Lorenzo Visconti. Give him that paper, -appointing him to the command of the troop of poor young Moustier, who -was stabbed, no one knows why or how."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, sire, I know why, and how too," answered De Vitry, in his usual -gay, light-hearted tone; "he was stabbed because he chose to make -love to the daughter of the confectioner who lives just below the -castle--she is, indeed, a wonderful little beauty; but she is -betrothed to a young armourer, and Moustier was not right to seek her -for his leman, under her promised husband's very nose. There are -plenty of free-hearted dames in Milan, without his breaking up the -happiness of two young people who never sought him. Then, as to the -way, sire, that is very easily explained---a dark corner, a strong -hand, and a sharp dagger over the left shoulder, and the thing was -soon accomplished. Ludovic says he will have the young armourer broken -on the wheel, to satisfy your majesty; but I trust you will tell him -not; for, in the first place, nothing can be proved against him; and, -in the next, according to his own notions, he did nothing but what was -right; and, in the next, De Moustier was all in the wrong; and, in the -next, this youth, Tomaso Bondi, is the best armourer in Italy--no man -I ever saw can inlay a Milan corslet as he can."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All very cogent reasons," answered the king, "and the regent shall do -nought to him, to satisfy me. De Moustier forgot the warning I gave -him after I was ill at Lyons, when he insulted the young wife of the -dean of the weavers; and as he has sought his fate, so he must abide -it. But, as I have said, seek out my young Cousin Lorenzo, give him -the paper, and tell him to join you next day at Pavia or Vigevano; but -do not let your men dismount, and take care that they commit no -outrage on the lands of Signor Rovera. At Vigevano you may halt till -you hear that I am on my way to Pavia. You shall have timely notice."</p> - -<p class="normal">The officer took the open paper from the king's hand, and in a -nonchalant way gazed at the contents, exclaiming as he did so, "On my -faith, it is fairly written!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The cheek of Charles turned somewhat red, and, fixing his eye keenly -upon De Vitry, he said, "You mean no offence, young sir, I believe; -but, Baron de Vitry, I tell you, if two years ago your king could not -write his name, it was not his fault. Would that all my nobility would -try to retrieve their errors as I have striven to remedy the defects -of my education."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young monarch was evidently much pained at what he thought an -allusion to the ignorance in which he had been brought up; and De -Vitry, whose thoughts were perfectly innocent of such offence, bent -his knee and kissed his sovereign's hand, saying, in his frank way, -"On my life, sire, I only admired the writing, and wished I were as -good a clerk. Heaven knows that, though I can write fast enough, no -man can read as fast what I have written. It has cost me many a time -more James, than an hour to make out my own letters. This carrying a -confounded lance, ever since I was eighteen, makes my finger unfit for -handling a quill; and, unless I fall in love, and have to write sweet -letters to fair ladies--which God forfend--I dare say the time will -come when I shall be unable to write at all."</p> - -<p class="normal">The king smiled good-humouredly at his blunt officer, for Charles's -anger soon passed away, and, bidding him rise, he said, "There, go, De -Vitry; you are a rough specimen of our French soldiers, for these -silken ladies of the South. I fear you will not make much way with -them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, they love me all the better, sire," answered De Vitry; "I'm a new -dish at their table. But I go to perform your will, sire; and, good -faith! I am not sorry to be in the saddle again. But what am I to do -with that young fellow, Bayard, who struck the big Ferrara man for -calling us barbarians? We have kept a close eye upon him, for he seems -never to dream that, if the signor were to meet him alone, he would -put a dagger in him, or break his back as a storm breaks a hard young -sapling. Good faith, sire, the man would eat the boy up as the old -giants used to do with the princes and princesses of I don't know -where in days of yore."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is well bethought," replied the king. "I wish to have no -brawling, De Vitry. Take Bayard with you to Pavia. Stay! let me -consider what I can do to smooth his removal from the court, for he is -a brave lad, and will some time make a name in life. They are hardy -soldiers, these men of the Isere."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is of such stuff as kings of France have most need of," answered -De Vitry. "Give him ten years more, and I would match him against -Mohammed. But the cornet of my troop, you know, sire, died on Friday -last of wine poison at Beccafico's--we hold our life on slender tenure -in this land--and if your majesty would please to name Bayard to fill -his place, he would be very well content, for he loves Bellona's -harness more than Cupid's, as my old tutor, the Abbé de Mortemar, used -to say when he could not get me to construe Ovid. But I know not how -Bayard may take Signor Lorenzo's appointment to De Moustier's troop, -he being also one of your pages, and more than a year older."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lorenzo Visconti is our cousin, sir," replied Charles, somewhat -sternly; "and, were he not so, we suffer no one to comment on our will -in ordaining how we shall be served. If Pierre de Terrail hesitates at -the honour we confer on him so young, because we name our own kindred -to a higher command at a younger age, let him remain as he is. We will -not resent such conduct, but we will make him feel that we are King of -France."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was sufficient irritation in his tone to induce the young -officer to withdraw; and he left the king's presence, repeating to -himself, "Our cousin! I see not how that is; but we are all cousins in -Adam, God wot; and the affinity must be somewhere thereabout, I take -it. Well, God send me some royal cousins, or right noble ones, for -'tis the only road to promotion in this world."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It was early in the month of September. The grapes were -already purple -with the draughts of sunshine which they had drunk in through a long, -ardent summer, and the trees had already begun to display "the sear -and yellow leaf"--early, early, like those who exhaust in life's young -day all the allotted pleasures of man's little space. The autumn had -fallen upon them soon. Yet it was a lovely scene, as you gazed from -one of those little monticules which stud the Lombard plains. There is -something in the descent from the mountains into Italy which seems to -anticipate the land--not so much in its physical as in its moral -features; a softness, a gentleness, a gracefulness which is all its -own, while round about, unseen, but felt in every breeze, is the dark, -pestilential swamp, gloomy and despairing, or else a brighter but more -treacherous land, fair to the eye, but destructive to vitality, which -lures but to destroy. One easily conceives the character of a large -portion of the people of the middle ages in Italy from the aspect of -the land. But it is of the people of the middle ages only. One can -hardly derive any notion of the ancient Roman from the characteristics -of the country till one plunges into the Campagna, where the stern, -hard features of the scenery seem to represent that force which, alas! -has passed away.</p> - -<p class="normal">And yet it was a lovely scene, and a moment of sweet and calm -enjoyment, as three young people sat together on the lower step of a -terrace near Vigevano, with a fountain gushing and murmuring some -twenty feet above, and a beautiful garden filled with mulberry-trees -and vines, and some oranges, not very luxuriant, but diffusing a -pleasant but languid odour round. The eye wandered over the shrubs and -trees to the lands watered by the Ticino on its way to Pavia; and -beyond, in the evening light, long lines of undulating country were -marked out in the deep blue tints peculiar to the distant scenery of -Italy. The terrace, below which the three were seated, was long and -wide, and rising therefrom, near the centre, was one face of a villa, -built in a style of which few specimens remain. The taste and genius -of Palladio had not yet given to the villa-architecture of Lombardy -that lightness and grace which formed the characteristic of a -new style of art. There was something, at that time, in every -country-house of Italy of the heavy, massive repulsiveness of the old -castello. But yet the dawn of a better epoch was apparent, in the -works of Andrea Palladio's great master, Trissino; and in the very -villa of which I speak, though here and there a strong, tall tower was -apparent, and the basement story contained stone enough to have built -a score of modern houses, much ornament of a light and graceful -character had been lavished upon the whole building, as if to conceal -that it was constructed for defence as well as enjoyment. Indeed, as -is generally the case, there was a certain harmony between the times -and state of society and the constructions of the period. The Italian -smiled, and revelled, and feasted, and called in music, and song, and -poetry, to cover over the dangers, and the griefs, and the terrors of -every day; and the palace in the city, or the villa in the country, -was often as richly decorated as if its massy inner walls were never -intended to preserve the life and fortune of its owner from the hands -of rude assailants, nor its halls ever to witness deeds of horror and -cruelty within their dark recesses.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was, indeed, an evening and a scene such as Lorenzo Visconti had -described as fitted for the telling of his own history. All was still -and quiet around; the leaves of the vines hardly moved with the light -air, the glow of the western sky faded off into deep purple as the eye -was raised from the horizon to the zenith; no moving object--no, not a -floating cloud, could be seen on any side; and the murmur of the -fountain seemed to add to, rather than detract from, the stillness. -The three young people--I need not tell the reader who they were---had -ranged themselves as their nature or their temporary feelings -prompted. On the lowest step Bianca Maria had placed herself, looking -up with her sweet confiding eyes towards the young companion whom she -almost idolized. On the step above was her cousin Lorenzo; and on a -step above them both, but leaning with her elbow on her knee, and her -cheek resting on her hand, a little to the right of Lorenzo and the -left of Bianca, was Leonora d'Orco, with her dark eyes bent down, -drinking in the words of the young soldier.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a group such as Bronzino might have delighted to paint; for not -only were there those colours in it which all Italians love, and all -Italian artists take pleasure in blending and harmonizing--the deep -browns, which characterise the complexion of their country, with the -rarer and exceptional fairness sometimes found among them---the -flowing flaxen hair of the North, and its rich crimsons, but in the -dress of the three also there were those strong contrasts of -harmonious hues, if I may use what may seem at first sight (but only -at first sight) a contradiction in terms--the rich red, and the deep -green, and the yellow touching upon brown, and the pale blue. How -charming, how satisfactory was the art of those old painters in -reproducing on the canvas the combinations which nature produces every -day. And yet Art, following Nature in its infinite variety, has shown -us, in the works of Murillo and some other Spanish artists, that -perfect harmony of colouring can afford as much pleasure as harmonized -contrasts, and that in painting also there may be Mozarts as well as -Beethovens.</p> - -<p class="normal">The evening light fell beautifully upon that young group, as they sat -there on the steps of the terrace, and, just glancing round the angle -of an old ruined building of Roman date in the gardens below, touched -gently and sweetly upon the brow and eyes of Bianca Maria, lighted up -the face of Lorenzo, and shone full upon the whole figure of Leonora, -as she gazed down upon the speaker.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must go back far into the times past," he said; "I dare say you are -well aware that the Viscontis once reigned as lords and dukes of -Milan. Do not suppose, Leonora, that I am about to put forth any claim -to that rich inheritance; for, though nearly allied to the ruling -race, my branch of the family were already separated from the parent -stem when the imperial bull was issued which conferred sovereignty on -the branch that ended with Filippo Maria. That bull limited the -succession strictly, and we had and have no claim. At the death of -Filippo, the Milanese found still one spark of ancient spirit, and -they declared themselves a republic. But republics have in them, -unhappily, no seeds of durability. There is not strength and virtue -enough in man to give them permanence. Rude nations may be strong and -resolute enough to maintain such institutions in their youth; but art -and luxury soften, and in softening enfeeble, so that men learn to -love ease more than independence, pleasure better than freedom. A new -dynasty was destined soon to succeed the old. The Viscontis were -noble, of high race and long descent, connected with every sovereign -house of Europe. But the son of a peasant was to gather their -inheritance and wear their coronet.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There was a man born at Cotignola, in Romagna, named Sforza -Attendolo, of very humble birth, but prodigious strength of body and -extraordinary military genius. Famine drove him to seek food in the -trade of war. He joined one of the great companies, rose by the force -of genius and courage, and in the end became one of the two most -famous condottieri in Italy. After a career of almost unexampled glory -and success, he was drowned in swimming the Pescara, but his son -Francesco succeeded to his command, and to more than his inheritance -of military fame. He was, indeed, a great man; and so powerful did he -become, that Filippo Maria Visconti promised him---to the illegitimate -son of a Romagnese peasant--the hand of his only daughter to secure -his services in his many wars. He hesitated long, it is true, to -fulfil a promise which he felt to be degrading, but he was compelled -to submit at length. With the aid of Francesco Sforza he was a great -prince--without him he was nothing; and when he died, old and blind, -he left his people to struggle against the man whom he had aided to -raise, but upon whom his own fate had very often depended. Francesco -was noble at heart, though ambitious. His enemies he often treated -with unexampled generosity, forbearance, and even kindness. He showed -that he feared no man, by freeing the most powerful and most skilful -of his captive enemies; but he pursued his course steadily toward -dominion, not altogether unstained by deceit and falsehood, but -without cruelty or tyranny. Sore pressed by famine, and with his -armies beneath their walls, the Milanese, who recognised his high -qualities, though they feared his dominion, threw open their gates to -him, and renounced their liberty at the feet of a new duke in -February, 1450. The Viscontis had nothing to complain of. The reigning -branch was extinct; the rest were not named in the imperial bull, and -they, with their fellow-citizens, submitted calmly of the rule of the -greatest man then living in Italy. Nor had they cause to regret the -act during the life of Francesco Sforza. He ruled the land justly and -moderately, maintained his own renown to the last, and showed none of -the jealousy of a tyrant towards those whose birth, or fortune, or -talents might have made them formidable rivals. He was wise to -conciliate affection in support of power. His good reign of sixteen -years did more to enslave the Milanese people than the iron heel of -any despot could have done; but there were not wanting those among his -children to take cruel advantage of that which his virtues had -accomplished. He died about thirty years ago, and to him succeeded his -eldest son, the monster Galeazzo. From that hour the iron yoke pressed -upon the neck of the Milanese. The new duke had less ambition than his -father, and inherited none of his talents; but he had a genius for -cruelty, and an energy in crime unequalled even by Eccelino. Those -whom he seemed most to favour and who least feared the tyrant's blow, -were always those on whom it fell most heavily and most suddenly; and -they furnished, when they little expected it, fresh victims for the -torture, or for some new and unheard-of kind of death. His luxury and -his licentiousness passed all bounds; no family was safe; no lady's -honour was unassailed or uncalumniated; violence was resorted to when -corruption did not succeed; in each day he comprised the crimes of a -Tarquin and the ferocity of a Nero. There were, however, three noble -hearts in Milan, and they fancied there were many more. They dreamed -that some public spirit still lingered among their countrymen--at -least enough, when delivered from actual fear of the tyrant, to seize -the opportunity and regain their liberty. When there is no law, men -must execute justice as they can; and those three resolved to put -Galeazzo to death--a mild punishment for a life of crime. Their names -were Olgiati, Lampugnani, and Carlo Visconti. All had suffered from -the tyrant. Olgiati's sister had fallen a victim to his violence. -Lampugnani's wife was another. My mother only escaped by death. But it -was not vengeance that moved the patriots. They had only suffered what -others had suffered. The evils of the country had become intolerable; -they were all the work of one man; and the three determined to deprive -him of the power to inflict more. They looked upon their undertaking -not only as a great and glorious enterprise, but as a religious duty, -and they prepared themselves for its execution with prayer and -fasting, and the most solemn sacrament of the Church. Many -difficulties intervened. Either the consciousness that his tyranny and -crimes had become intolerable, or one of those strange presentiments -of coming fate which have affected many men as the hour of their -destiny drew nigh, rendered Galeazzo less accessible, more suspicious -and retired than before. He seldom came forth from his palace, was no -longer seen on occasions of public ceremony, or in fêtes and -festivals. There was, indeed, one day when he could hardly fail to -show himself, and that was on St. Stephen's day--a day when, by -immemorial custom, every one honours the first martyr by attending -mass at the great church. That day they fixed upon for the execution -of their design, and each was early in the church, with a dagger -hidden in the sleeve of his gown. The world has called it a sacrilege; -but they looked upon it as a holy and a righteous deed, sanctified by -the justice of the cause, that the most sacred place could not be -polluted by it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In the mean time Galeazzo seemed to feel that the day and hour of -retribution had arrived. He would fain have avoided it; he sought to -have mass performed in the palace; he applied to a chaplain--to the -Bishop of Como--but in all instances slight obstacles presented -themselves, and in the end he determined to go to the Cathedral. One -touch of human tenderness and feeling, the first for many a day, broke -from him. He sent for his two children, took leave of them tenderly, -and embraced them again and again. He then went forth; but the -conspirators awaited him in the church; and hardly had he entered when -three daggers were plunged into his breast and back. Each struck a -second blow; and the monster who had inflicted torture, and death, and -disgrace upon so many innocent fellow-creatures sank to the pavement, -exclaiming, 'Sancta Maria!'</p> - -<p class="normal">"The three then rushed towards the street to call the people to arms; -but Lampugnani stumbled, catching his feet in the long trains of the -women who were already kneeling in the nave. As he fell he was killed -by a Moor, one of Galeazzo's base retainers. My father was killed -where he stood, and Olgiato escaped into the street only to find the -people, on whom he trusted either dead to all sense of patriotism and -justice, or stupified and surprised. Not a sword was drawn--not a hand -was raised in answer to his cry, 'To arms!' and torture and the death -of a criminal once more closed the career of a patriot.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was an infant at that time, but in the days of Galeazzo Sforza -infants were not spared, and the nurse who had me in her arms hurried -forth, carrying me with her, ere the gates of the city could be -closed, or the followers of the duke came to search and pillage our -house. She took refuge in a neighbouring village, whence we were not -long after carried to Florence, where the noble Lorenzo de Medici, -after whom I had been baptized, received me as his child, and when he -felt death approaching, sent me to the court of France to finish my -education among my relatives there."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And was this Prince Ludovic the son of Galeazzo?" asked Leonora, as -soon as he had paused.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh no--his younger brother," replied Lorenzo. "He holds the son in -durance, and the son's wife, on the pretence of guardianship, though -both are of full age; but, if I be not mistaken, the day of their -deliverance is near at hand, for I have heard the king say he will -certainly see them, and learn whether they are not fitted to rule -their own duchy without the interference of so dangerous a relation."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God grant the king may be in time," said Bianca Maria; "for it is -said the young duke is very sick, and people say he has poison in all -he eats."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush! hush!" cried Leonora, anxiously. "Long confinement and wearing -care are enough to make him sick, Bianca, without a grain of poison. -No one can die now-a-days without people saying he is poisoned. 'Tis a -sad tale, indeed, you tell, Lorenzo, and I have often heard our sweet -Princess of Ferrara say that Galeazzo was a bad man; but Ludovic -surely is not cruel. He has pardoned many a man, I have heard, who had -been condemned by the tribunals."</p> - -<p class="normal">A somewhat bitter smile came upon the lips of Lorenzo Visconti, but he -merely replied, "The good and innocent always think others good and -innocent till bitter experience teaches them the contrary."</p> - -<p class="normal">Perhaps he might have added more, but the sound of footsteps on the -terrace above caught his ear, and he and Leonora at once turned to see -who approached. The steps were slow and deliberate, and were not -directed toward the spot where the young people sat; but they -instantly checked further conversation on the subjects previously -discussed, while from time to time each of the three gave a glance -toward two gentlemen who had just appeared upon the terrace. The one -was a man somewhat advanced in years, though not exactly what might be -called an old man. His hair and beard were very gray, it is true, but -his frame was not bent, and his step was still firm and stately. He -was richly dressed, and wore a large, heavy sword, of a somewhat -antique fashion. Lorenzo asked no questions concerning him, for he -knew him already as the grandfather of his young cousin, Bianca Maria. -The other was a younger man, dressed in black velvet, except where the -arms were seen from under the long hanging sleeves of his upper -garment, showing part of an under coat of cloth of silver. He was tall -and thin, and his face would have deserved the name of handsome had it -not been that the eyes, which were fine in themselves, and -overshadowed by strongly-marked eyebrows, were too close together, and -had a slight obliquity inward. It was not what could be absolutely -called a squint, but it gave a sinister expression to his countenance, -which was not relieved by a habit of keeping his teeth and lips -closely compressed, as if holding a rigid guard over what the tongue -might be inclined to utter.</p> - -<p class="normal">They took their way to the extreme end of the terrace, and then walked -back till they came on a line with the spot where the three young -people sat, still silent, for there is a freemasonry in youth that -loves not to have even its most trifling secrets laid bare to other -eyes, or its most innocent councils broken in upon.</p> - -<p class="normal">There the two gentlemen paused, and the younger seemed to end some -conversation which had been passing between them by saying, "I know -not much, Signor Rovera, of the history or views of other times, or -for what men lived and strove for in those days; but I do know, and -pretty well, the history of my own times, and the rules by which we -have to guide ourselves in them. If we have not ourselves power, we -must serve those who have power; and while we keep ourselves from what -you would call an evil will on our own part, we must not be over nice -in executing the will of those above us. Theirs is the deed, and -theirs the responsibility. The race of Sforza is not, methinks, a -higher or a better race than the race of Borgia. Both are peasants -compared to you or me, but the Borgias are rising, and destined to -rise high above us both; the Sforzas have risen, and are about to -fall, or I mistake the signs of the times. Men may play with a kitten -more safely than with a lion; and when Ludovico called this King of -France into Italy, he put his head in the wild beast's mouth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, that that were all!" exclaimed the old Count of Rovera. "I should -little care to see that wild beast close his heavy jaws upon the skull -of his inviter, if that would satisfy him; but Italy--what is to -become of Italy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"God knows," answered the other drily. "She has taken so little care -of her children, that, good faith! they must take care of themselves -and let her do the same, my noble cousin. We are both too old to lose -much by her fall, and neither of us young enough to hope to see her -rise. Phoenixes are rare in these days, Signor Count. There," he -continued, pointing to the little group upon the steps, "there are -the only things that are likely to spring up, except corn, and -mulberry-trees, and such vegetables. Why, how the girl has grown -already! She is well-nigh a woman. She will need a husband soon, and -then baby-clothes, and so forth. I must speak with her. Leonora! -Leonora!"</p> - -<p class="normal">At the sound of his voice, Leonora, who had been sitting with her head -bent down and her eyes fixed upon the marble at her feet, sprang up -like a startled deer, and ran up the steps toward him; but when within -a step, she paused, and bent before him without speaking.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER V.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Who is that man?" asked Lorenzo Visconti in a low tone, while -Leonora -stood before the stranger, silent and, as it were, subdued.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is her father, Ramiro d'Orco," answered Bianca Maria; "he has -just returned from Romagna, I suppose; he has not been here for a -year, and I heard he was there."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Her father!" exclaimed the youth; "and is it so a child meets a -father? Oh God! had I a parent living who came back from a long -absence, how I should spring to receive his first caress! how the -first tone of his voice--the first sound of his footstep, would move -the whole blood within me. I do believe the very proximity of his -spirit would make my whole frame thrill, and I should know that he was -present before one of my senses assured me of the fact. My father! oh, -my father! could you rejoin your son, should I meet you as a stranger, -or bow before you as a ruler?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is not her fault, Lorenzo," said her cousin, eagerly, zealous in -her friend's cause; "I do not know how to tell you what he is, -Lorenzo. He is hard, yet not tyrannical; cold, yet not without -affection. There is no tenderness in him, yet he loves her better than -aught else on earth, except, I have heard my grandfather say, except -ambition. He is liberal to her, allowing her all she wants or wishes, -except, indeed, his tenderness and care. You and I are both orphans, -Lorenzo, and perhaps we let our fancy lead us to picture exaggerated -joy in the love and affection of parents."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I love him not, Bianca," answered the young man, with a slight -shudder; "there is something in his look which seems to chill the -blood in one's heart. I can see in that gaze which he bends upon her, -why it is her arms are not thrown round his neck, why her lips are not -pressed to his, why words of love and affection are not poured forth -upon her father when she meets him after a long absence. She is his -child, but he is not a father to her--perhaps a tyrant."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" answered the young girl; "he loves her--indeed he does, -and he does not tyrannize over her. But whether it is that there is a -natural coldness in his manner, or that he affects a certain Roman -hardness, I cannot tell; he only shows his love in indulging her in -everything she desires, without a tender look or tender word, such as -most fond fathers bestow upon a well-loved child."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And such a child!" said Lorenzo, musing. "Well, it is strange, -Bianca; perhaps he may love her truly, and more than many fathers whom -I have seen in France fondle their children as if their whole soul was -wrapped up in them, and then sacrifice their happiness to the merest -caprice--perhaps it may be so, and yet I do not like his looks. I -cannot like him. See how he gazes at us now! It is the gaze of a -serpent, cold, and hard, and stony. Who was her mother? She can have -gained no part of her nature from him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no," cried the young girl, feeling all that he felt, though -unwilling to allow it; "she is like him in nothing, except, indeed, -the forehead and the shape of her face. Her mother was almost as -beautiful as she is. I remember well; it is not three years since she -died. She was a great heiress in the Ghiaradda. All she had was on her -marriage secured by the forms of law to herself and her children, and -they say he strove almost cruelly to make her give it up to him. After -her death he obtained possession of it, but not entirely for himself. -It was decided that he should possess it till Leonora married, making -suitable provision for her maintenance, but that, when she married, -the great estates at Castellano should go to her and her husband. My -grandfather, who was her mother's uncle, took much interest in the -matter, and for a time he and Signor d'Orco were at bitter enmity; but -when the case was decided, and it was found that Leonora's father -assigned her more for her portion than the law would have demanded, my -grandfather became convinced that he had striven only for what he -conceived a right, and became reconciled to him. Indeed, he is quite -liberal in all things concerning her; allows her the revenue of a -princess, and is himself a man of small expense; but it seems -his is an unbending nature. He lets her do what she wills in most -things--seldom thwarts her; but when he speaks his own will, there is -no appeal from it--neither to his heart nor his mind. I can often -persuade my grandfather, though he is quick and hasty, as you know, -and sometimes convince him, but it is of no use to try to do either -with Ramiro d'Orco."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo fancied he comprehended, at least in a degree, the character -which, in her youthful way, she strove to depict; but yet there was -something in the look of Leonora's father which left a dark, -unpleasant impression upon his mind. There are faces that we love not, -but which afford no apparent reason for the antipathy they produce. -There is often even beauty which we cannot admire--grace which affords -no pleasure. There is, perhaps, nothing more graceful upon earth than -the gliding of a snake, never for a moment quitting what the great -moral painter called "the line of beauty." There is nothing more rich -and resplendent than his jewelled skin, and yet how few men can gaze -upon the most gorgeous of that reptile race without a shuddering -sensation of its enmity to man? Can it be that in the breast of the -reasoning human creature, God, for a farther security than mere -intellect against a being that is likely to injure, implants an -instinct of approaching danger which no fairness of form, no -engagingness of manner can at first compensate? It may be so. At all -events, I have seen instances where something very like it was -apparent. And yet, with time, the impression wears away; the spirit -has spoken once its word of warning; if that word is not enough, it -never speaks again. The snake has the power of fascinating the bird -which, in the beginning, strove to escape from him; and we forget the -monitor which told us our danger.</p> - -<p class="normal">In an hour from that time Lorenzo was sitting at the same table with -Ramiro d'Orco, listening well pleased to searching and deep views of -the state of Italy, expressed, not indeed with eloquence, for he was -not an eloquent man, but with a force and point he had seldom heard -equalled.</p> - -<p class="normal">It would not be easy to give his words, for, even were they recorded, -they would lose their strength in the translation; but the substance -we know, and it would give a very different picture of Italy in that -day from any that can be drawn at present. We see it not alone dimmed -by the distance of time, but in a haze of our own prejudices. We may -gather, perhaps, the great results; but we can, I believe, in no -degree divine the motives, and most of the details are lost. Read the -history of any one single man in those days, as portrayed by modern -writers, and compare one author with another. Take for instance that -of Lorenzo de Medici, as carefully drawn by Roscoe, or brightly -sketched by Sismondi. What can be more different? The facts, indeed, -are the same, but how opposite are all the inferences. In both we have -the dry bones of the man, but the form of the muscle, and the hue of -the complexion are entirely at variance. Writers who undertake to -represent the things of a past age are like a painter required to -furnish portraits of persons long dead. Tradition may give them some -guidance as to the general outline, but the features and the colouring -will be their own.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is therefore with the great facts of the state of Italy at that -time that I will deal, as nearly in the view of Ramiro d'Orco as I -can; but it must be remembered that his view also was not without its -mistiness. If we cannot see early on account of the remoteness of the -objects which we contemplate, his vision also was indistinct, obscured -by the prejudices of class, interest, party, hope, apprehension, and -above all, ambition. He painted the condition of Italy only as Ramiro -d'Orco believed it to be. How much even of that belief was to be -ascribed to his own desires and objects, who can say?</p> - -<p class="normal">Lombardy, the great northern portion of Italy, indeed, had ever been -isolated from the rest in manners and habits of thought. Italians the -Lombards certainly were; but the characteristics of the northern -conquerors predominated in that portion of the peninsula. Except at -Genoa and in Venice, republicanism in no shape had taken any deep -root. From very early times, although the voice of the people had -occasionally proclaimed a republic here and there, the babe was -strangled ere it got strength, even by those that gave it birth. The -epoch of democratic independence in Lombardy lasted barely a century -and a half. No republic flourished long north of the River Po, except -those I have named, and even the two which took some glory from the -name little deserved it. Less real liberty was known in Venice than -perhaps existed under the most grinding tyranny of a single man; and -Genoa, in her most palmy days, was a prey to aristocratic factions, -which soon made the people but slaves to princes. But it must not be -supposed that nothing was obtained in return: a more chivalrous and -warlike spirit existed in that division of Italy than in the central -portion. It was not so early refined, but it was not so speedily -softened. Corrupt it might be, and indeed was, to even a fearful -degree; but it was the corruption of the hard and the daring, rather -than of the weak and effeminate. Men poisoned, and slew, and tortured -each other, and the minds of all became so familiar with blood and -horror, that much was endured before resistance to oppression was -excited; but conspiracies were generally successful in their primary -object, because the conspirators were bold and resolute. A tyrant -might fall only to give place to another tyrant, but still he fell; -and you rarely saw in Lombardy such weakness as was displayed in the -enterprise of the Pazzi.</p> - -<p class="normal">Men in the north fought openly in the field for counties, and -marquisates, and dukedoms; but there was little finesse or diplomatic -skill displayed except by Venice. There was cunning, indeed, but it -was always exercised to gain some military advantage. The ambition of -that part of the land was warlike, not peaceful. It was not luxury, -and ease, and graceful enjoyment that was desired in combination with -power, but it was splendour, and pomp, and domination. Weak tyrants -were sure to fall; merely cruel ones generally retained their power; -and cunning ones were frequently successful; but it was only by -wielding the sword, either by their own hands or those of others.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the time in which Ramiro d'Orco spoke, every vestige of liberty was -extinct in Lombardy. The Visconti, and after them the Sforzi, in -Milan; the house of Della Scala, and after them the Visconti, in -Verona; the Gonzagas in Mantua; the D'Estes in Ferrara; the Carraras -in Padua; the Bentivogli in Bologna, and a hundred other princely -houses, had attained power by both policy and the sword, and Genoa had -passed frequently from anarchy to subjection, and subjection to -anarchy. But the great military school of Alberic de Barbiano had -raised up a vigorous and healthy spirit in the people, which, had it -lasted, would have secured to both Romagna and Lombardy strength to -resist foreign enemies, even if it could not control intestine -divisions. But the great company of St. George, founded by Barbiano, -was succeeded by two others, who, though they possessed all the energy -of their predecessors, and were led by men of very superior abilities, -were merely the companies of adventurous soldiers known as the -Bracceschi and Sforzeschi. Their swords were at the command of those -who could pay them best, and their leaders were men who sought to -found dynasties upon military success. In this object Braccio de -Montana failed. He was mortally wounded at Aquila in 1424, and his -formidable band gradually dispersed, after having passed under the -command of several others. Though Sforza perished in passing the -Pescara ere he attained the power at which he aimed, the object was -accomplished by his son Francesco, who established himself in the -ducal throne of Milan.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus, at the time when Ramiro d'Orco spoke, in 1494, the whole of -Lombardy was under the domination of various princes, commonly and not -unjustly called tyrants; but the chivalrous spirit of the people was -by no means extinct; and even the course of the arts showed the -tendency of the popular mind. It is true, Milan itself was more famous -for the manufacture and even the invention of arms than for the fine -arts, but in the pictures of that country during this and the -preceding centuries saints and martyrs, angels and demons, are -frequently represented in knightly harness, and in some it would be -difficult to distinguish the messenger of peace from one of the -terrible legionaries of the great companies.</p> - -<p class="normal">It seemed, indeed, as if Lombardy had returned to its normal feudal -notions, in which chivalry was inseparably attached to monarchy and -aristocracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">The central states of Italy clung to republican forms of government -long after they had been extinguished in the north; but it was -republicanism founded upon wealth, not upon purity of character or -simplicity of manners--no, nor upon real patriotism. A celebrated -writer of late days has spoken of "the virtue of Florence" in this -very century. Let us see how that virtue was depicted by the best -judges of the times of which he, at this late day, speaks. "I never -imagined," said Piero de Medici, father of Lorenzo, on his death-bed, -addressing the chief citizens of Florence, "that times would come when -the conduct of my friends would force me to esteem and long for the -society of my enemies, and wish that I had been defeated instead of -victorious." He then went on to reproach them with their vices and -their crimes. "You rob your neighbours of their wealth," he said, "you -sell justice, you evade the law, you oppress the weak, and exalt the -insolent. There are not, throughout all Italy, so many and such -dreadful examples of violence and avarice as in this city."</p> - -<p class="normal">Again Machiavelli describes the youth of Florence as having become -"more dissolute than ever, more extravagant in dress, feasting and -other licentiousness," and says that, "being without employment they -wasted their time and means on gaming and women, their principal care -being how to appear splendid in apparel, and obtain a crafty -shrewdness in discourse." Nor can I look upon the persevering efforts -of that republic to subjugate all the neighbouring cities as a proof -of virtue or of love of liberty.</p> - -<p class="normal">Their military virtues seem to have been upon a par with their -domestic qualities. Their battles were fought by hired mercenaries, -and where the Florentine forces did appear in the field, they -apparently merited the reproach which Machiavelli casts upon the -military in general of the central and southern portions of Italy. In -describing the campaign of 1467, he says, "A few slight skirmishes -took place, but in accordance with the custom of the time, neither of -them acted on the offensive, besieged any town, or gave the other any -opportunity of coming to a general battle; but each kept within its -tents, and they conducted themselves with the most remarkable -pusillanimity." Indeed, his description of all the battles in which -none of the great condottieri were engaged, is merely ludicrous. -Moreover, the political virtues of the people seem, at this time at -least, not to have surpassed those of the heart and mind. Florence had -the name of a republic, but its government was in reality an -oligarchy. There is a consciousness in man that persons whose time is -devoted to daily labour have not those opportunities of mental -culture, and that leisure for deep thought, which alone can fit men -for the task of leading and governing. However strong may be -democratic sentiment, however jealously tenacious of the name of -equality citizens may be, there is, in the natural course of all -communities, a tendency to produce an aristocracy. In the warring -elements of a political chaos, the first efforts of order are to -resolve the people into classes--nay, into castes. The hatred of -hereditary authority generally directs these efforts to elevate riches -to the highest place. The wealthy, in whom one sort of pre-eminence is -already obvious, are not so obnoxious at first sight as those who have -no real source of influence but the intangible one of birth; and thus -from republics, founded frequently upon purely democratic principles, -generally rises the most hateful and debasing of all aristocracies, -the aristocracy of wealth. This had long been the case with Florence -at the time I speak of: wealth was nobility, and that nobility was -rapidly tending toward monarchy. Lorenzo de Medici had exercised until -his death, in April, 1492, an anomalous sovereignty, denied the -character of prince of a monarchical state, and yet divested of the -restraints of a magistrate of a free people. He was addressed by all -public bodies and all private persons as "Most Magnificent Lord," and -swayed the destinies of the country, influenced the character of the -people, and deeply affected the fate of all Italy, without any legal -right or actual station. His was solely a monarchy of influence, and, -though even Cromwell felt the necessity of giving to his power the -sanction of a name, Lorenzo ruled his countrymen till his death in the -character of a citizen.</p> - -<p class="normal">The south of Italy had in the mean time passed through several phases, -and the monarchical element had long predominated in its government. -The only question was to whom it should belong. Foreign families -struggled for the often contested throne; and Italians then only drew -their swords or raised their voices in favour of one or another -usurper. The destinies of the north and the south were sealed; and in -Tuscany no wide field was offered for ambition. A man might raise -himself to a certain degree by subservience to some powerful prince, -but he must continue to serve that prince, or he fell, and would never -aspire to independent domination where hereditary power was recognised -by the people, and lay at the foundation of all acknowledged -authority. It was alone in central Italy, and especially in Romagna -and in the States of the Church--where a principle antagonistic to all -hereditary claims existed in the very nature of the Papal power--that -any adventurer could hope, either by his individual genius or courage, -or by services rendered to those who already held authority, to raise -himself to independent rule, or to that station which was only -attached to a superior by the thin and nearly worn-out thread of -feudal tenure.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Those who would find fortune," said Ramiro d'Orco, "such fortune as -Francesco Sforza conquered and the Medici attained must seek it at -Rome. There is the field, the only field still open to the bold -spirit, the strong, unwavering heart, the keen and clear-seeing -mind--there is the table on which the boldest player is sure to win -the most. With every change of the papacy, new combinations, and, -consequently, new opportunities must arise, and, thanks to the wise -policy of the College of Cardinals, those changes must be frequent. A -man there may, as elsewhere, be required to serve in order at length -to command; but if he do not obtain power at length, it is his fault -or Fortune's, and in either case he must abide the consequences. Good -night, Signor Rovera."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"What is it, dear girl?--Let me think?" said Leonora to her -young -cousin. They sat in a small ante-room between their sleeping chambers, -which gave entrance from the corridor to each.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what would you think of, Leonora?" asked Bianca, laughing -wickedly.</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora gazed from the window, whence was seen the garden below bathed -in moonlight, with faint glimpses of the distant country, and the -sparkle of the rays upon the fountain whose voice came murmuring up. -She did not answer, but continued silent, with her cheek resting on -her hand, and her arm upon the sill of the window.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know right well whom you are thinking of," said Bianca, bending -down her head so as to gaze upon the beautiful face.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not you," said Leonora; "I am thinking of my father; and how strange -it is that he who loves me well, I know, should show his love so -little."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can you think of two things at once, Leonora?" asked her cousin, "for -I know one thing you are thinking of, and you tell me of another. You -are thinking of Lorenzo Visconti; and how strange it is that you, who -love him well, have not the heart to own it to yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go, go, you are a silly child," answered Leonora, "you cannot know -what love is, nor I either, except love for your parents or your -kinsfolk. I think not of Lorenzo Visconti; he is a comely youth, and -pleasant in his conversation; but he will go hence in a day, forget me -in another, and I him before the third evening comes. You want to make -me fall in love with him, but I tell you, Blanche, you will tire me of -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Faith, I do not want you to love him," replied Bianca, "for I am half -in love with him myself, and can't spare him--only, you know, there is -one obstacle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, go and sleep over it," replied Leonora, "then rise -to-morrow, and whisper gently in his ear that, if he will but wait a -year or two--this loving land and warm climate notwithstanding--he can -wed the beautiful heiress of the house of Rovera, and--but what -obstacle do you talk of, Blanche?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The Church! the Church!" replied the other girl; "we are full -cousins, you know, Leonora--within the forbidden degrees. My mother's -eldest sister was his mother."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But a poor obstacle," answered Leonora; "one of the two bags of the -Church is always open to take in gold, and the other to let out -dispensations."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes: but somehow I can never look on him as aught else but a cousin," -replied Bianca--"a sort of brother. As such I love him well; but as I -said, I am only half in love with him---a fraternal love, which is a -half love, I suppose. I do not know much about it; but I do not judge -I could let him kiss me so coolly if I loved him any better. Bless my -poor heart, Leonora, we were boy and girl together when we were in -Florence, and were we to marry, I should always think him playfellow -instead of husband. But I'll to bed and sleep; I have nothing to keep -me awake. You go to bed and sleep, if you can. I know you, Leonora."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, you do not," murmured her cousin; "but I shall sit up and look at -the moonlight for a time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And wish that the nightingale had not ceased to sing true-love -ditties," replied Bianca gaily. "Well, good night. Leave the doors -open, that I may hear if you sigh about Lorenzo in your sleep."</p> - -<p class="normal">Bianca, or, as the French called her, Blanche Marie, then left her -gaily, and with a light heart was soon asleep. Leonora d'Orco sat -quite still by the window, and gazed forth. All was still and -tranquil. The air was clear and soft, and yet there seemed a sort of -haze--a haze of brightness over the landscape. Have you never -remarked, reader, especially in southern climates, that the moon -sometimes pours forth her pale rays in such profusion that it seems as -if a mist of light spread over the scene? So was it at that moment; -and though the nightingale, as Blanche Marie had said, no longer -trilled his summer song, yet every now and then a note or two from his -sweet voice burst upon the ear--a song, begun as if in memory, and -broken off as if in despair. The time of love was past, and he could -sing no more; but the remembrance of happy days woke up under the warm -autumn splendour, and a few short plaintive notes came welling from -the fountains of regret.</p> - -<p class="normal">Of what was the young maiden thinking? What feelings woke up in her -bosom under that bright moon?</p> - -<p class="normal">What harmonious chord vibrated in her bosom to the broken tones of the -solitary songster of the night?</p> - -<p class="normal">Gaze down into a deep, deep well, reader, and if you gaze long enough, -you will catch an uncertain gleam of light, you know not whence, -glistening upon the surface of waters below you; but you cannot fathom -those waters with the eye, nor see aught that they cover; and so it is -with the heart of woman to those who would scan it from a distance. If -you would know what is beneath, plunge down into its depths, torch in -hand; you may perish, but you will know all that can be known of that -most deep, mysterious thing.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length there was the sound of a light footstep on the terrace -beneath, and Leonora started and listened. The foot that produced the -sound was still distant, and she quietly glided through the open door -into her cousin's chamber. Blanche Marie was already sleeping -peacefully, the light covering hardly veiling the contour of the young -beautiful limbs, the hair already escaped from the net intended to -restrain it, and the white uncovered arm cast negligently under the -warm, rosy cheek. Her breathing was soft, and low, and even, and the -half-open lips showed the pearly teeth between.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How beautiful she is!" murmured Leonora; "and how sweet and gentle -she looks! So looked Psyche;" and with a noiseless step she left the -room, and closed the door behind her.</p> - -<p class="normal">She took her seat near the window again, behind the rich deep -moulding, as if she would see without being seen; but the lighted -taper on the table cast her shadow across without her knowing it; and -there she sat, and once more listened. The step was very, very near -now, and the next instant it stopped beneath the window. Then came a -silent pause for a moment, and Leonora's heart beat.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bianca," said the voice of Lorenzo, "is that you, dear cousin?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora was strongly tempted to say yes, but yet she felt ashamed of -the positive falsehood, and, with a sort of compromise with -conscience, she answered, almost in a whisper:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush! speak low."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Which is Leonora's chamber?" asked the voice again.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why?" demanded the young girl, in the same low tone, but with strange -sensations in her bosom.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I wish to sing to her," answered the youth, "and to tell her all I -dared not tell this evening. I am ordered to Pavia early to-morrow, -dear cousin, and must leave you to plead my cause, but I would fain -say one word for myself first."</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh, how Leonora's heart beat.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then it is not Bianca," she murmured to herself; "it is not Bianca. -The next room on your right," she answered, still speaking low; but -suddenly there came upon her a feeling of shame for the deception, and -she added, "What is it you would say, Lorenzo? Leonora is here; Bianca -has been sleeping for an hour. But don't sing, and speak low. Signor -Rovera's apartments are close by."</p> - -<p class="normal">But Lorenzo would not heed the warning; and though he did not raise -his voice to its full power, he sang, in a sweet, low tone, a little -canzonetta, which had much currency some few years before in Florence:</p> -<pre> - - "What time the Greek, in days of yore, - Bent down his own, fair work before, - He woke the echoes of the grove - With words like these, 'Oh, could she love!' - - "Heaven heard the sculptor's wild desire; - Love warmed the statue with its fire; - But when he saw the marble move, - He asked, still fearful, 'Will she love?' - - "She loved--she loved; and wilt thou be - More cold, Madonna, unto me? - Then hear my song, and let me prove - If you can love--if you can love." - -</pre> -<p class="normal">"Songs are false--men are falser, Lorenzo," answered Leonora, bending -a little from the window: "you will sing that canzonetta to the next -pretty eye you see."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It will be Leonora's then," answered the youth. "Can you not come -down, dear Leonora, and let me hear my fate under the olive-trees? I -fear to tell you all I feel in this place, lest other ears should be -listening. Oh! come down, for I must go hence by daybreak to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! do not go so soon," murmured Leonora; "I will be down and on the -terrace by daybreak; but to-night--no, no, Lorenzo, I cannot, for very -maiden shame, come down to-night. There, take my glove, Lorenzo, and -if I find you still wear it for my sake when next we meet, I shall -know--and then, perhaps--perhaps I will tell you more. But there is -some one coming--fly! fly!--the other way. He is coming from the east -end of the terrace."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never turned my back on friend or foe," answered Lorenzo, turning -to confront the new comer.</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora drew back from the window and put out the light, but she -listened with eager ears. "It was very like my father's figure," she -thought; "his height, his walk, but yet, methinks, stouter. Hark! that -is not his voice--one of the servants, perhaps."</p> - -<p class="normal">The next instant there was a clash of steel, and she ran anxiously to -the window. At some twenty yards distance she saw Lorenzo, sword in -hand, defending himself against a man apparently much more powerful -than himself. For a moment or two she gazed, bewildered, and not -knowing what to do. Lorenzo at first seemed to stand entirely on the -defensive; but soon his blood grew hot, and, in answer to his -adversary's lunge, he lunged again; but the other held a dagger in his -left hand, and with it easily parried the blade. The next pass she saw -her lover stagger. She could bear no more, and, running down, she -screamed aloud to wake the servants, who slept near the hall. An old -man, a porter, was still dozing in a chair, and started up, -exclaiming:</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it; what is it, signorina?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Haste! haste! Bring your halbert!" cried Leonora, pulling back slowly -the great heavy door, and running down the steps; "there is murder -about."</p> - -<p class="normal">She fancied she should behold Lorenzo already fallen before his more -vigorous enemy; but, on the contrary, he was now pressing him hard -with an agility and vigour which outweighed the strength of maturity -on the part of the other. All was as clear in the bright moonlight as -if the sun had been shining; and, as Leonora sprung forward, she -beheld, or thought she beheld, her lover's assailant gain some -advantage. Lorenzo was pressed back along the terrace towards the spot -where she stood. He seemed to fly, though still with his face to his -adversary, but he had been well disciplined to arms in Italy as well -as France, and knew every art of defence or assault. The space between -him and his foe increased till he nearly reached the young girl's -side, and then, with a sudden bound, like that of a lion, he sprang -upon his enemy and passed his guard. What followed Leonora could not -see; it was all the work of a moment; but the next instant she beheld -the elder man raise his hand as if to strike with his dagger, drop it -again, and fall back heavily upon the terrace.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo leaned upon his sword, and seemed seeking to recover breath, -while Leonora ran up to him, asking, "Are you hurt; are you hurt, -Lorenzo?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere he could answer there were many people around them. No house in -Italy was unaccustomed to such scenes in those days. Indeed, scenes -much more terrible habituated everybody, servants, masters, retinue, -to wake at the first call, and to have everything ready for resistance -and defence. A number of the attendants poured forth from the door she -had left open, some with useless torches lighted, some with arms in -their hands. Then came her father, Ramiro d'Orco, and last, the old -Count Rovera himself, while Blanche Marie appeared at the window -above, eagerly asking what had befallen.</p> - -<p class="normal">No one answered her, but the Signor d'Orco advanced calmly to the side -of the fallen man, gazed at him for a moment, and then turned to -Lorenzo, asking, "Is he dead?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not," replied the young man, sheathing his sword.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who is he?" demanded Ramiro again.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Neither know I that," said the youth; "he attacked me unprovoked as I -walked here upon the terrace in the moonlight; but I never saw his -face before, that I know of."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Walked and sang," answered Ramiro, drily. "Perhaps he did not like -your music, Signor Visconti."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Probably," replied the youth, quite calmly. "It was but poor, and yet -not worth killing a man for. Besides, as it was not intended for him, -but for a lady, it could give him no offence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not quite clear logic that, good youth," answered Ramiro. "Do any of -you know this man?" he continued, turning to the servants.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not I;" "not I," answered several; but the old Count of Rovera bent -down his head toward the man's face, waving the rest away that the -moonlight might fall upon him. "Why, this is Pietro Buondoni, of -Ferrara;" he exclaimed; "an attendant on Count Ludovico, and a great -favorite. What could induce him to attack you, Lorenzo?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not, sir," replied Lorenzo; "I never set eyes on him before. -He called me a French hound, and, ere I could answer him, he had -nearly run me through the body. I had hardly time to draw."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, bear him in--bear him in," said the old lord; "though I judge -from his look he will not attack any one again. Did I not see Leonora -here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">But by this time she was gone, and Lorenzo took care not to answer. As -he followed the rest into the villa, however, he stooped to pick up -something from the ground. What if it were a lady's glove!</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The servants bore Buondoni into the great hall; but it was in -vain -they attempted for a moment or two to rouse him into consciousness -again. There was no waking from the sleep that was upon him. Lorenzo's -sword, thrust home, had passed through and through his body, piercing -his heart as it went. Very different were the sensations of the -different persons who gazed upon his great, powerful limbs and -handsome face, as he lay in death before them. Ramiro d'Orco could -hardly be said to feel anything. It was a sight which he had looked on -often. Death, in the abstract, touched him in no way. To see a man -take any one of his ordinary meals or die was the same to him. It was -an incident in the world's life--no more. He had no weak sympathies, -no thrilling sensibilities, no fanciful shudderings at the extinction -of human life. A man was dead--that was all. In that man he had no -personal interests. He knew him not. There had been no likelihood that -he ever would know him; if anything, less probability that that man -could ever have served him, and therefore there seemed nothing to -regret. Neither had there been any chance that Buondini could ever -have injured him, therefore there could be no matter for rejoicing; -but yet, if anything, there was a curious feeling of satisfaction, -rather than otherwise, in his breast. Death--the death of others--was -a thing not altogether displeasing to him. He knew not why it was so, -and perhaps it sometimes puzzled him, for he had been known to say, -when he heard a passing-bell. "Well, there is one man less in the -world! There are fools enough left."</p> - -<p class="normal">Old men grow hardened to such things, and in the ordinary course of -nature, as their own days become less and less, as life with them -becomes more and more a thing of the past, they estimate the death of -others, as they would estimate their own approaching fate, but -lightly. The old Count Rovera looked with but very little feeling upon -the dead man; but he thought of his young relation Lorenzo, and of -what might be the consequences to him. At first, when he remembered -that this man had been a great favourite with Ludovic the Moor, and -thus another offence had been offered by a Visconti to a Sforza, he -entertained some fears for the youth's safety. But then the -recollection of the King of France's powerful protection gave him more -confidence, and his sympathies went no farther.</p> - -<p class="normal">The feelings of Lorenzo himself were very different; but as they were -such as would be experienced by most young men unaccustomed to -bloodshed in looking for the first time upon an enemy slain by their -own hands, we need not dwell much upon them. There was the shuddering -impression which the aspect of death always makes upon young, -exuberant life. There was the natural feeling of regret at having -extinguished that which we can never reillume. There was that curious, -almost fearful inquiry which springs up in the thoughtful mind at the -sight of the dead, when our eyes are not much accustomed to it, "What -is life?"</p> - -<p class="normal">While he was still gazing, one of the servants touched the old count's -arm and whispered something to him, "Ha!" cried Rovera; "I am told, -Lorenzo, you received a letter to-night, which was sent up to your -room by one of your men, after we all parted. It was not a challenge, -perchance? If so, you should have chosen some other place for your -meeting than our terrace."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was not so, sir," replied Lorenzo, promptly. "I had no previous -quarrel with the man. The letter was from his Majesty King Charles. -Here it is; you can satisfy yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My eyes are dim," said the old man; "read it Ramiro."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Lord of Orco took the paper, and read while one of the servants -held a flambeau near.</p> -<br> - -<p style="text-indent:5%">"<span class="sc">Well-beloved Cousin</span>"--so ran the note--"It has pleased us to bestow -on you the troop of our ordnance, become vacant by the death of -Monsieur de Moustier. We march hence speedily, and the Seigneur de -Vitry proceeds to-night toward Pavia. As he will not be able to depart -till late in the day, we judge it best to advise you, in order to your -preparation, that he will halt near the Villa Rovera for an hour -to-morrow early, and that we expect you will accompany him on his -march without delay. Fail not as you would merit our favour.</p> - -<p style="text-indent:70%">"<span class="sc">Charles</span>."</p> - -<br> -<p class="normal">Ramiro read the letter aloud, and then, without any comment on the -contents, remarked:</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have left the impress of your thumb in blood upon the king's -missive, Signor Visconti; you are wounded, mayhap."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! a scratch--a mere scratch in my right shoulder," answered -Lorenzo; "I could not completely parry one of his first thrusts, and -he touched me, but it is nothing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, you are hurt, Lorenzo! you are hurt!" cried Bianca Maria, who had -come down from her chamber, and was standing behind the little circle -which had gathered round the dead man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Get you to bed, child!" said the old count sharply; "these are no -matters for you. Your cousin has but a scratch. Get you to bed, girl, -I say; this is a pretty pass, that two men cannot fight without having -all the women in the house for witnesses!"</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean time Ramiro d'Orco had raised the left hand of the dead -man, in which was still firmly clasped his poniard--his sword had -fallen out of the right when he fell--and, taking a torch from one of -the servants, he gazed along the blade.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This dagger is grooved for poison, Conte," he said, addressing his -host in the same quiet, indifferent tone he generally used; "better -look to the young gentleman's wound."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank you, sir," replied Lorenzo; "but it came from his sword, not -his poniard. I will retire and let my men stanch the bleeding."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Better, at all events, apply some antidote," said Ramiro; "a little -parsley boiled will extract most poisons, unless they remain too long. -It were well to attend to it speedily."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I will go," replied Lorenzo; "but, I call Heaven to witness, I -have no blame in this man's death. He attacked me unprovoked, and I -killed him in self-defence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We must take measures to discover how this came about," said the -count, thoughtfully. "Buondoni cannot have come here unattended."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Better perchance let it rest," said Ramiro d'Orco, "there may be -motives at the bottom of the whole affair that were not well brought -to the surface. I have gathered little from tonight's discourse of -this youth's history; but he is a Visconti, and that alone may make -him powerful enemies, who had better still be his enemies than yours, -father."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear them not," replied the old nobleman; "let diligent inquiry be -made around and on the road to Pavia for any stranger arrived this -night. Now, Ramiro, come with me for awhile, and we will talk farther. -Lights, boys, on there in my cabinet. You are in your night gear, -signor; but I will not keep you long ere I let you to your slumbers -again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They will be my first slumbers," answered Ramiro. "I had not closen -an eye when I heard talking, and singing, and then clashing of -swords--no unusual combinations in our fair land, Signor Rovera."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke he followed the old count into a small, beautiful room, -every panel of which held a picture, of great price then, and -invaluable now as specimens of the first revival of art. When they -were seated and the doors closed, the elder man fell into a fit of -thought, though he had invited the conference, and Ramiro d'Orco spoke -first.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who is this young Visconti?" he asked; "and how comes the King of -France to give him cousinship?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, he is the son of that Carlo Visconti who stabbed Galeazzo -Sforza," answered the count, "and was killed in the church. The boy -was carried by some of his relations to his godfather, Lorenzo de -Medici, and educated by him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then 'tis Ludovic's doing," said Ramiro; "he has sent this man to -make away with him, though that was a bad return for his father's kind -act in lifting him to power. By my faith he should have raised and -honoured the boy. That good stroke of a dagger was worth three -quarters of a dukedom to the good prince. But I suppose, from all I -learn, that the youth is now trying adventure as a soldier."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Soldier he is under the King of France," answered the old man; "but -an adventurer he hardly can be called, for he has large estates in -Tuscany. When Ludovic seized the regency, he was fain to court Lorenzo -de Medici for support, and right willingly he agreed to change the -estates of his brother's executioner for the lands which his father -Francesco had obtained in gratuity from Florence. No, he is wealthy -enough, and if he serves, it is but for honour or ambition."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how is he cousin to the King of France?" asked Ramiro; "it is a -cousinship of much value as events are passing nowadays."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, do you not recollect?" asked the old man, somewhat testily, -"that Valentina Visconti married Louis, brother of Charles the Sixth -of France, grandfather of the present Duke of Orleans, who will one -day be King of France too, if the marriage of this young king be -sterile. Three years have passed without any prospect of another heir, -and then the future of this youth, is bright indeed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is," answered Ramiro; and, after a moment's thought, he added, "I -suppose you intend to marry him to your granddaughter?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good sooth, they may do as they like, Ramiro," answered the old man. -"I have made marriages for my children, and seen none of them happy or -successful. Some remorse--at least regret--lies in the thought. I have -but this child left for all kindred, and she shall make her marriage -for herself. I may give advice, but will use no compulsion. In truth, -I one time sought her union with Lorenzo, for he is not only full of -promise, rich, noble, allied to royal houses both of France and -England, but, with high spirit, there is allied in him a tenderness -and love but rarely found. I marked it in him early, when he was page -to that magnificent prince his godfather. The other lads, who loved or -seemed to love him, were sure to prosper through his advocacy of -merits less than his own. In furtherance of my wish, I had Bianca -brought up with him in Florence; but, like an unskilful archer, I fear -I have overshot my mark. The one is as a brother to the other; and I -believe she would as soon marry her brother as Lorenzo. On his part I -know not what the feelings are. He seems to love her well, but still -with love merely fraternal, if one may judge by eyes and looks. I've -seen more fire in one glance at Leonora than in poor Lorenzo's life -was given to any other. But this unfortunate fight may breed mischief, -I fear. If Ludovic sent the man to kill him, he will not soon be off -the track of blood. Thank Heaven! he is soon going on."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think there is no fear," replied Ramiro, "unless Buondoni's blade -was well anointed. Ludovic is too wise to follow him up too fiercely. -We may run down our game eagerly enough upon our own lands, but do not -carry the chase into the lands of another, Signor Rovera."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As soon as Lorenzo can rejoin the King of France, he is safe," -rejoined the Count, "and methinks, till then, I can take care of him. -I know the look of a poisoner or assassin at a street's distance. Only -let us look to his wound; I have known one of the same scratches end a -good strong man's life in a few hours."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So say I," answered Ramiro, "but I will go out and walk upon the -terrace. I feel not disposed to sleep. If you should want me, call me -in. I know something of poisons and their antidotes; I studied them -when I was in Padua; for, in this life, no one knows how often one may -be called upon to practise such chirurgy on his own behalf."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left the Count de Rovera, and while the other, half -dressed as he was, hurried up to Lorenzo's chamber, Ramiro, with his -usual calm and almost noiseless step, went forth and walked the -terrace up and down. For more than an hour he paced it from end to -end, with all his thoughts turned inward. "A distant cousin of this -King of France," he thought, "and almost german to his apparent heir! -Wealthy himself and full of high courage! The lad must rise--ay, high, -high! He has it in his look. Such are the men upon whose rising -fortunes one should take hold, and be carried up with them. It was -surely Leonora's voice I heard talking with him from the windows. If -so, fortune has arranged all well; yet one must be careful--no too -rapid steps. We fly from that which seeks us--run after that which -flies. I will mark them both well, and shut my eyes, and let things -take their course, or else raise some small difficulties, soon -overleaped, to give the young lover fresh ardour in the chase. Pity he -is so young--and yet no pity either. It will afford us time to see how -far he reaches."</p> - -<p class="normal">With such thoughts as these he occupied himself so deeply that his -eyes were seldom raised from the ground on which he trod. At length, -however, he looked up toward the windows; and there was one in which -the lights still burned, while figures might be seen, from time to -time, passing across.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That must be his chamber," said Ramiro to himself. "I fear the blade -was poisoned, and that it has had some effect. I must go and see. -'Twere most unlucky such a chance should escape me. Let me see; where -is that snake-stone I had? It will extract the venom," and, entering -the house, he mounted the stairs rapidly to Lorenzo's chamber.</p> - -<p class="normal">He found him sick indeed. The whole arm and shoulder were greatly -swollen; and while the old count stood beside his bed with a look of -anxious fear, a servant held the young man up to ease his troubled -respiration. Lorenzo's face seemed that of a dying man--the features -pale and sharp, the eye dull and glassy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Send for a clerk," said the youth; "there is no time for notaries; -but I wish my last testament taken down and witnessed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Cheer up, cheer up, my good young friend," said Ramiro. "What! you -are very sick; the blade was poisoned, doubtless."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It must be so," said the young man, faintly; "I feel it in every -vein."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, fear not," answered Ramiro; "I have that at hand which -will soon draw out the poison. Here man," he continued, speaking to -one of the attendants, who half filled the room, "run to my chamber. -On the stool near the window you will find a leathern bag; bring it -to me with all speed. You, sir, young page, speed off to the buttery, -and bring some of the strongest of the water of life which the house -affords. It killed the King of Navarre, they say, but it will help to -give life to you, Lorenzo."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The bottigliere will not let me have it, sir," replied the boy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here, take my ring," said the old count; "make haste--make haste!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy had hardly left the room, when the servant first despatched -returned with the leathern bag for which he had been sent. It was soon -opened, and, after some search, Ramiro took forth a small packet, and -unfolded rapidly paper after paper, which covered apparently some very -precious thing within, speaking quietly as he did so:</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is one of those famous snake-stones," he said, "which, when a -man is bitten by any reptile, be it as poisonous as the Egyptian asp, -will draw forth the venom instantly from his veins. Heaven knows, but -I know not, whether it is a natural substance provided for the cure of -one of nature's greatest evils, or some cunningly invented mithridate -compounded by deep science. I bought it at a hundred times its weight -in gold from an old and renowned physician at Padua; and it is as -certain a cure for the case of a poisoned dagger-wound as for the bite -of a snake. Ah! here it is! have bare the place where the sword -entered."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pity it came not a little sooner," said Lorenzo's servant, taking off -some bandages from his master's shoulder; "physic is late for a dying -man."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ramiro d'Orco gave him a look that seemed to pierce him like a dagger, -for the man drew back as if he had been struck, and almost suffered -his master to fall back upon the bed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hold him up, fool!" said Ramiro, sternly; and, holding the wound, -which had been stanched, wide open with one hand till the blood began -to flow again, he placed what seemed a small brownish stone, hardly -bigger than a pea, in the aperture, and then bound the bandages -tightly round the spot.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That boy comes not," he said; "some of you run and hasten him."</p> - -<p class="normal">But ere his orders could be obeyed the page returned, with a large -silver flagon and a Venice glass on a salver.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, Signor Visconti, drink this," said Ramiro, filling a glass and -applying it to his lips.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo drank, murmuring,--"It is like fire."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So is life," answered Ramiro; "but you must drink three times, with a -short interval. How feel you now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sick, sick, and faint," replied Lorenzo. But some lustre had already -come back into his eye; and after a short pause, Ramiro refilled the -glass, saying,</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here, drink again."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man seemed to swallow more easily than before, and, in a -moment or two after he had drunk, he said in a low voice,</p> - -<p class="normal">"I feel better. That stone, or whatever it is, seems as it were -sucking out the burning heat from the wound. I breathe more freely, -too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All is going well," replied Ramiro. "One more draught, and, though -you be not cured, and must remain for days, perchance, in your -chamber, the enemy is vanquished. You shall have cheerful faces and -sweet voices round you to soothe your confinement; but you must be -very still and quiet, lest the poison, settling in the wound itself, -though we have drawn it from the heart, should beget gangrene. Bianca, -your dear cousin, and my child Leonora, shall attend you. Here, drink -again."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo felt that with such sweet nurses he would not mind his wound; -but the third draught revived him more than all. His voice regained -its firmness, his eye its light. The sobbing, hard-drawn respiration -gave way to easy, regular breathing; and, after a few minutes, he -said,</p> - -<p class="normal">"I feel almost well, and think I could sleep."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All goes aright," said Ramiro; "you may sleep now in safety. That -marvellous stone has already drawn into itself all the deadly venom -that had spread through your whole blood. Nothing is wanting but quiet -and support. Some one sit by him while he sleeps; and if perchance he -wakes, give him another draught out of this tankard. Let us all go -now, and leave him to repose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will sit by him, signor," said the man who had been supporting him; -"for there be some who would not leave a drop in the tankard big -enough to drown a flea, and I have sworn never to taste <i>aqua vitæ</i> -again, since it nearly burst my head open at Rheims, in France."</p> - -<p class="normal">Before he had done speaking Lorenzo was sound asleep; and while the -servant let his head drop softly on the pillow, the rest silently -quitted the room.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">A few hours earlier on the day of which we have just been -speaking, a -gallant band of men-at-arms rode forward on the highway between Milan -and Pavia. It consisted of nearly four hundred lances, that is to say, -of about eight hundred men. Had it been complete, the number would -have amounted to many more, for the usual proportion was at least -three inferior soldiers, esquires, or pages to each lance; but the -eagerness of the young King of France to achieve what he believed -would be an easy conquest had hurried his departure from France ere -his musters were one half filled.</p> - -<p class="normal">A short repose in Milan had sufficed to wipe away all stains of travel -from his host; and the band of the Lord of Vitry appeared in all their -accoutrements, what Rosalind calls "point device." It is true, the day -had been somewhat dry and sultry, and some dust had gathered upon -splendid surcoats, and scarfs, and sword-knots; and the horses, so gay -and full of spirit in the morning, now looked somewhat fatigued, but -by no means jaded.</p> - -<p class="normal">At their head rode their commander, a man of some thirty to two and -thirty years of age, of a fine, manly person and handsome countenance, -although the expression might be somewhat quick and hasty, and a deep -scar on the brow rather marred the symmetry of his face. By his side, -on a horse of much inferior power, but full of fire and activity, rode -a man, not exactly in the garb of a servant, but yet plainly habited -and nearly unarmed. Sword and dagger most men wore in those days, but -he wore neither lance nor shield, cuirass nor back-piece. He carried a -little black velvet cap upon his head, with a long feather; and he -rode in shoes of untanned leather, with long, sharp points, somewhat -like a pod of mustard-seed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are you sure you know the way, Master Tony?" asked De Vitry.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know the way right well, noble lord," replied the other; "but you -do me too much honour to call me master. In Italy none is master but a -man of great renown in the arts."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good faith, I know not what you are," answered the leader, "and I -never could make out what young Lorenzo kept you always trotting at -his heels for, like a hound after his master."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You do me too much honour again, my lord," replied the other, "in -comparing me to a hound."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What, then, in Fortune's name, are you?" asked De Vitry, laughing.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A mongrel," replied Antonio, "half French, half Italian; but pray, -your lordship, don't adjure me by Fortune; for the blind goddess with -the kerchief over her eyes has never been favourable to me all my -life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Time she should change then," answered De Vitry.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, sir, she is like a school-boy," answered Antonio; "she never -changes but from mischief to mischief; only constant in doing evil; -and whichever side of her wheel turns uppermost, my lot is sure to -slide down to the bottom. But here your lordship must turn off."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Vitry was following on the road to which the other pointed, when a -voice behind said:</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are leaving the high road, my lord. If you look forward, you will -see this is but a narrow lane."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my faith that is true," said the commander of the band; "you are -not tricking me, I trust, Master Antonio? Halt there--halt!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It might be fine fun to trick a French knight if I were my lord's -jester," said Antonio, "but I have not arrived at that dignity yet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where does that road lead to, then, sirrah?" demanded De Vitry, -pointing to the one they were just leaving.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To Pavia, my lord," replied the man; "but you will find this the -shortest, and, I judge, the best."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a lurking smile upon Antonio's face, which De Vitry did not -like; and, after but a moment's hesitation, he turned his horse back -into the other path, saying:</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will take the broad way; I never liked narrow or crooked paths in -my life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust you will then allow me to follow the other, sir," said -Antonio; "first, because there is no use in trying to guide people who -will not be guided, and, secondly, because I have something important -to say to my young lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, sir--no," answered De Vitry, sharply; "ride here by my side. -To-morrow, at farthest, I will take care to know whether you have -tried to deceive me: and if you have, beware your ears."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You will know to-night, my lord," said the man, "and my ears are in -no danger, if you are not given, like many another gentlemen, to -cuffing other people for your own faults."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are somewhat saucy, sir," replied the marquis; "your master -spoils you, methinks."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man saw that his companion was not to be provoked farther, and was -silent while they rode onward.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was now drawing towards evening, but the light had not yet faded; -and De Vitry gazed around with a soldier's eye, scanning the military -aspect of the country around.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is there not a river runs behind that ridge, Master Tony?" he asked -at the end of ten minutes, with easily recovered good-humour.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, sir," replied the man shortly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what castle is that on the left--there, far in the distance?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is the castle of Sant' Angelo," answered Antonio.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, here is the river right before us," said De Vitry, "but where is -the bridge?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Heaven knows," replied the man, with the same quiet smile he had -borne before; "part of it, you may see, is standing on the other side, -and there are a few stones on this, if they can be of any service to -your lordship. The rest took to travelling down toward the Po some -month or two ago, and how far they have marched I cannot tell."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Doubtless we can ford it," said De Vitry, in an indifferent tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"First send your enemy, my lord," replied Antonio, "then your friend, -and then try it yourself--if you like."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my life, I have a mind to send you first, head foremost," replied -the commander, sharply, but the next moment he burst into a -good-humoured laugh, saying, "Well, what is to be done? The stream -seems deep and strong. We did you wrong, Antonio. Now lead us right, -at all events."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You did yourself wrong, and your own eyesight, my lord," answered the -man, "for, if you had looked at the tracks on the road, you would have -seen that all the ox-carts for the last month have turned off where I -would have led you. You have only now to go back, again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A hard punishment for a light fault," replied De Vitry. "Why told you -me not this before, my good sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because, my lord, I have always thought St. Anthony, my patron, was -wrong in preaching to fishes which have no ears. But we had better -speed, sir, for it is touching upon evening, and night will have -fallen before we reach Sant' Angelo. There you will find good quarters -in the Borgo for your men; and, doubtless, the noble signor in the -castle will come down at the first sound of your trumpets, and ask you -and your prime officers to feast with him above. He is a noble lord, -and loves the powers that be. Well that the devil has not come upon -earth in his day, for he would have entertained him royally, and might -have injured his means in honour of his guest."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Vitry burst into another gay laugh, and, turning his horse's head, -gave orders for his band to retrace their steps, upon which, of -course, the young men commented as they would, while the old soldiers -obeyed without question, even in their thoughts.</p> - -<p class="normal">Night had long fallen when they reached Sant' Angelo a place then of -much more importance than it is now, or has been for two centuries. -But Antonio had been mistaken in supposing that De Vitry and his -principal officers would be invited to lodge within the castle. The -lord thereof was absent, knowing that the route of the King of France -must be close to his residence. He was well aware that the attachment -professed toward the young monarch by persons more powerful than -himself was all hollow and deceptive, and that inferior men, in -conflicts of great interests, always suffer, whose party soever they -espouse. But he knew, too that unexplained neutrality suffers more -than all, and he resolved to absent himself from his lands on the -first news of the arrival of the King of France in Italy, that he -might seem to favour neither him nor his opponents, and yet not -proclaim a neutrality which would make enemies of both.</p> - -<p class="normal">The castle, indeed, would at once have opened its gates, had it been -summoned; but De Vitry, knowing the king's anxiety to keep on good -terms with all the Italian nobles of Lombardy, contented himself with -lodgings in the humble inn of the place, and hunger made his food seem -as good as any which the castle could have afforded. The supper passed -gaily over; the men were scattered in quarters through the little -borough; wine was with difficulty procured by any but the officers, -and sober perforce, the soldiery sought rest early. De Vitry and one -or two others sat up late, sometimes talking, sometimes falling into -fits of thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio, in the meantime, had not even thought of rest. He had -carefully attended to his horse, had ordered him to be fed, and seen -him eat his food, and he stood before the door of the inn, gazing up -at the moon, as if enjoying the calm sweetness of the soft Italian -nights, but in reality meditating a farther ride as soon as all the -rest were asleep. It was in the shadiest corner of this doorway -that the man had placed himself, and yet he could see the full -nearly-rounded orb without coming under her beams. As so often -happens, two processes seemed going on in his mind at once; one -suggested by objects present, and finding utterance in an occasional -murmured sentence or two, the other originating in things past, and -proceeding silently.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, Madam Moon," he said; "you are a curious creature, with your -changes, and your risings, and your settings, and your man with his -dog and lantern. I wonder what you really are. You look like a great -big ducat nailed upon the sky, or a seal of yellow wax pendent from -the charter of the heavens. I could almost fancy, though, that I can -see behind you on this clear night. Perhaps you are but the big boss -of a sconce, put up there to reflect the light of the sun. You will -soon be up there, just above the watch-tower of the castle, like a -ball upon a gate-post. Hark! there are people riding late. By my -faith! if they be travellers coming hither, they will find scanty -lodging and little to eat. These gormandizing Frenchmen have gobbled -up everything in the village, I warrant, and occupied every bed. On my -faith, they will find themselves too confident some day: not a sentry -set except at the stables; no one on guard; the two or three officers -in the dining-hall. They think they have got Italy at their feet; they -may discover that they are mistaken before they leave it. These -horsemen are coming hither. Who can they be?"</p> - -<p class="normal">While these thoughts had been occupying one part of the man--I know -not how better to express it--and had more or less clothed themselves -in words, another train, more nearly allied to feeling, had been -proceeding silently in the deeper recesses of his bosom. There was -something which made him half sorry that he had been prevented from -proceeding further before nightfall, half angry with him who had been, -partly at least, the cause of the delay. "I do not believe," he -thought, "that the big bravo can reach the villa before morning. He -had not set out when we came away, and yet I should like to see the -young lord to-night. I have a great mind to get upon my horse's skin -at once and go on. But then, a thousand to one, De Vitry would send -after and stop me; and if I were to meet Buondoni and his people, I -should get my throat cut, and all my news would escape through the -gash. If I could persuade this dashing French captain to lend me half -a dozen men now, I might do something; but their horses are all tired -with carrying the cart-load of iron each has got upon his shoulders. -Hark! these travellers are coming nearer. Perhaps they may bring some -news from the Villa Rovera. They are coming from that side."</p> - -<p class="normal">He drew farther back into the shadow of the gateway. It may seem -strange that he did so; for even in distracted England, in those days -as well as afterward, the first impulse of the lodger in an inn was to -meet the coming guest and obtain the general tidings which he brought, -and which were hardly to be obtained from any other source. But in -Italy men had learned such caution that every stranger was considered -an enemy till he was ascertained to be a friend. The evils of high -civilization were upon the land, without any of its benefits; nay, -more, this had endured so long that suspicion might almost be looked -upon as the normal condition of the Italian mind.</p> - -<p class="normal">The republics of Italy have been highly extolled by eloquent men, but -their results were all evil except in one respect. They served to -preserve a memory of the arts--to rescue, in fact, something which -might decorate life from the wreck of perished years. In thus -speaking, I include commerce with the arts. But as to social -advancement, they did nothing except through the instrumentality of -those arts. They endeavoured to revive ancient forms unsuited to the -epoch; they succeeded in so doing only for the briefest possible -period, and the effort ended everywhere, first in anarchy, and then in -despotism--each equally destructive to individual happiness, to -general security, and to public morals. They afforded a spectacle, at -once humiliating and terrible, of the impotence of the human mind to -stem the strong, calm current of pre-ordained events. Their brief -existence, their lamentable failure, the brightness of their short -course, and the evils consequent upon the attempts to recall rotten -institutions from millennial graves, were but as the last flash of the -expiring candle of old Rome, ending in darkness and a bad smell. For -more than two centuries, at the time I speak of, life and property in -Italy had enjoyed no security except in the continual watchfulness of -the possessor. The minds of men were armed as well as their bodies, -and thus had been engendered that suspicion and that constant -watchfulness which rendered life a mere campaign, because the world -was one battlefield.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh! happy state under the old Saxon king of England, when from one end -to the other of the bright island a young girl might carry a purse of -gold unmolested!</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio drew back as the travellers approached to hear something of -who and what they were before he ventured to deal with them -personally. They were within a few yards of him in a minute, drawing -in the rein when they came opposite the archway leading to the -stable-yard. There the first challenge of a sentinel was heard, and -the answer given, "Amici!" showed that they were Italians.</p> - -<p class="normal">The word was uttered quickly and in a tone of surprise, which showed -they were unaware the borgo had been occupied by the French troops; -but, after a few whispered sentences, one of the four who had newly -arrived asked the sentinel, in marvellous bad French, to call the -landlord or one of the horse-boys. They wanted food for themselves and -horses, they said, and hoped to find some place to rest in for the -night.</p> - -<p class="normal">The sentinel grumbled forth something to the effect that they were -much mistaken, but, raising his stentorian voice, he called the people -of the house into the courtyard; and Antonio gazed forth and -scrutinised the appearance of the new-comers for a minute or two, -while they made their application for entertainment, and heard all the -objections and difficulties laid before them by the landlord, who was -already overcrowded, but unwilling to lose certain <i>lire</i> which they -might expend in his house.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can but feed your horses in the yard, and give you some straw and -covering for yourselves, Signor Sacchi," replied the landlord; "and -then you must lie on the floor of the hall."</p> - -<p class="normal">The leading horseman turned to consult with his three companions, -saying, "He told us to wait him here if he came not in an hour."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I understood, if he came not in an hour," replied another, "we -were to conclude he had obtained entertainment in the Villa--, which -the count's letter was sure to secure for him; but I did not hear him -say we were to come back here, as I told you long ago, Sacchi."</p> - -<p class="normal">But before they had proceeded even thus far, Antonio had re-entered -the house, and was conversing eagerly with the young Marquis de Vitry.</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you will but let me have half a dozen common troopers, my lord," -said he--"I know not how many this man may have with him--but I will -risk that."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But who is he? who is he?" asked De Vitry, "and what are your causes -of suspicion?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why I told you, my lord," replied Antonio, "he is that tall -big-limbed Ferrara man who is so great a favourite with the Count -Regent--Buondoni is his name. Then, as to the causes of suspicion, I -came upon Ludovic and him talking in the gallery of the castle last -night, and I heard the count say, 'Put him out of the way any how; he -is a viper in my path, and must be removed. Surely, Buondoni, you can -pick a quarrel with the young hound, and rid me of him. He is not a -very fearful enemy, I think, to a master of fence like you!' Thereupon -the other laughed, saying, 'Well, my lord, I will set out to-night or -to-morrow, and you shall hear of something being done before Thursday, -unless Signor Rovera takes good care of his young kinsman.' 'Let him -beware how he crosses me,' muttered the Moor. And now, Signor de -Vitry, I am anxious to warn my young lord of what is plotting against -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"After all, it may be against another, a different person from him you -suppose," replied De Vitry. "This Buondoni, if it be the same man, was -insolent to young De Terrail, and Bayard struck him. We also were -going to halt at the Villa Rovera, and Ludovic knew it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, my lord," exclaimed Antonio, "do you not perceive--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I see, I see," replied De Vitry, interrupting him: "I know what you -would say. Ludovic has no cause to hate Bayard or to remove him; it -was but Buondoni's private quarrel. There is some truth in that. Are -you sure these men just arrived are his servants?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"As sure as the sun moves round the earth," replied Antonio.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, that I know nought of," answered De Vitry; "but here they come, -I suppose. Find out De Terrail, Antonio. Tell him to take twenty men -of his troop and go forward with you. You can tell him your errand as -you go. I will deal awhile with these gentlemen, and see what I can -make out of them."</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio retired quietly keeping to the shady side of the large -ill-lighted hall, while the three freshly-arrived travellers moved -slowly forward, with a respectful air, toward the table near which De -Vitry sat.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Give you good evening, gentlemen," said the marquis, turning sharply -round as soon as he heard their footsteps near. "Whence come you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"From Pavia, my lord," said Sacchi, a large-boned, black-bearded man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what news bring you?" inquired the French commander. "None, my -lord," replied the man; "all was marvellous peaceful."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, peace is a marvel in this wicked world," answered De Vitry. -"Called you at the Villa Rovera as you passed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, sir--that is, we stopped a moment, but did not call," replied -Sacchi.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what did you stop for?" asked the Frenchman.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Only just to--to be sure of our way," replied Sacchi.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And you came from Pavia, then?" said De Vitry. "You must have set out -at a late hour, especially for men who did not rightly know their way. -But methinks I saw you in Milan this morning. Will you have the bounty -to wake that gentleman at the end of the table, who has gone to sleep -over his wine?"</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke in the calmest and most good-humoured tone, without moving in -his seat, his feet stretched out before him, and his head thrown back; -and the man to whom he spoke approached the French officer who was -seated sleeping at the table, and took him by the shoulder.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Shake him," said De Vitry; "shake him hard; he sleeps soundly when he -does sleep."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sacchi did as he was bid, and the officer started up, exclaiming:</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it? Aux armes!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No need of arms, Montcour," answered his commander; "only do me the -favour of taking that gentleman by the collar, and placing him in -arrest."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke at first slowly, but increased in rapidity of utterance as he -saw his officer's sleepy senses begin to awaken. But Montcour was -hardly enough roused to execute his orders, and though he stretched -out his hand somewhat quickly towards Sacchi's neck, the Italian had -time to jump back and make toward the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">De Vitry was on his feet in a moment, however, and barred the way, -sword in hand. The other servants of Buondoni rushed to the only other -way out; but there were officers of De Vitry's band not quite so -sleepy as Montcour, and, without waiting for orders, they soon made -three out of the four prisoners. The other leaped from the window and -escaped.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, my lord, this is too bad!" exclaimed Sacchi; "you came here -as friends and allies of the noble regent, and you are hardly ten days -in the country before you begin to abuse his subjects and servants."</p> - -<p class="normal">For a moment or two De Vitry kept silence, and gazed at his prisoner -with a look of contempt. The man did not like either the look or the -silence. Each was significant, but difficult to answer; and in a -moment after, De Vitry having given him over to one of the subaltern -officers, nodded his head, quietly saying:</p> - -<p class="normal">"We understand you, sirrah, better than you think. If I were to -consider you really as a servant of Prince Ludovic, I might remark -that the regent invited us here as friends and allies, and we had been -scarcely ten days in the land ere he sent you and others to murder one -of our officers, and a kinsman of our king; but I do not choose to -consider you as his servant, nor to believe that he is responsible for -your acts. The king must judge of that as he finds reason, and either -hang you or your master, as in his equity he judges right. As to other -matters, you know your first word was a lie, that you do not come from -Pavia at all, and that the beginning and end of your journey was the -Villa Rovera. What you have done there I do not know, but I know the -object of your master."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, sir, I have nought to do with my master's business," replied -Sacchi. "I know nought of his objects; I only know that I obey my -orders."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hark ye! we are wasting words," said De Vitry. "Doubtless you will be -glad to know what I intend to do with you. I shall keep you here till -an hour before daybreak, and then take you on to the villa. If I find -that one hair of Lorenzo Visconti's head has suffered, I will first -hang your master, the worshipful Signor Buondoni, on the nearest tree, -and then hang you three round him for the sake of symmetry. I swear it -on the cross;" and he devoutly kissed the hilt of his sword.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sacchi's face turned deadly pale, and he murmured:</p> - -<p class="normal">"It will be too late--to-morrow--before to-morrow it will be done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is that you mutter?" said De Vitry; "what do you mean will be -done?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, my lord," replied the man, "my master--my master may have some -grudge against the young lord Lorenzo. He is a man of quick action, -and does not tarry long in his work. I know nought about it, so help -me Heaven! but it is hard to put an innocent man's life in jeopardy -for what may happen in a night. Better set off at once and stop the -mischief rather than avenge it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So, so!" said De Vitry; "then the story is all too true. Bayard! -Bayard!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has just passed into the court, seigneur," replied one of the -young officers who was standing near the window; "he and some others -are mounting their horses now. Shall I call him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, let him go," answered the leader; "he is always prompt and always -wise. We can trust it all to him. As for these fellows, take them and -put them in an upper room where they cannot jump out. Set a guard at -the door. You, signors, best know whether your consciences are quite -clear; but if they be not, I advise you to make your peace with Heaven -as best you may during the night, for I strongly suspect, from what -you yourselves admit, that I shall have to raise you a little above -earthly things about dawn to-morrow. There, take them away. I do not -want to hear any more. Our good King Louis, eleventh of the name, had -a way of decorating trees after such a sort. I have seen as many as a -dozen all pendent at once when I was a young boy, and I do not know -why it should go against my stomach to do this same with a pack of -murderous wolves, who seem made by Heaven for the purpose of giving a -warning to their countrymen."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER IX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">When Lorenzo awoke--and his sleep was not of such long -duration as -fully to outlive the darkness--he found more than one person watching -him. Close by his side sat Ramiro d'Orco, and near the foot of his bed -the lamplight fell upon the well-known face of his faithful follower, -Antonio. He felt faint and somewhat confused, and he had a throbbing -of the brow and temples, which told him he was ill; but for some -moments he remembered nothing of the events which had taken place the -night before.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How feel you, my young friend?" asked Ramiro, in a far more gracious -tone than he commonly used; "yet speak low and carefully, for, though -the antidote has overwrought the poison, you must long be watchful of -your health, and make no exertion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are very kind, Signor Ramiro," replied the young man. "I believe -I was wounded last night, and that the blade was poisoned--yes, it was -so, and I owe you my life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I speak not of that, Lorenzo," replied Ramiro; "I am right glad I was -here, and could wish much that I could remain to watch you in your -convalescence, for a relapse might be fatal; but I will trust you to -hands more delicate, if not so skilful as my own. Men make bad nurses; -women are the fit attendants for a sick room, and your pretty little -cousin, Bianca Maria--as gentle and sweet as an angel--and my child -Leonora, whom you know, shall be your companions. I will charge them -both to watch you at all moments, and, under their tender care, I -warrant you will soon recover. I myself must ride hence ere noon, for -I must be in Rome ere ten days are over. Ere that you will be quite -well; and should it be needful that Leonora should follow me, I will -trust to your noble care to bring her on through this distracted -country. I know you will reverence her youth and innocence for her -father's sake, who has done all he could for you in a moment of great -peril."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo's heart beat with joy at the mere thought. I would have said -thrilled, but, unhappily, the misuse of good words by vulgar and -ignorant men banishes them, in process of time, from the dictionary. -The multitude is too strong for individual worth, and prevails.</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my honour and my soul," replied Lorenzo, "I will guard her with -all veneration and love, as if she were some sacred shrine committed -to my charge."</p> - -<p class="normal">A slight irrepressible sneer curled Ramiro's lip, for all enthusiasms -are contemptible to worldly men; but he was well learned in fine words -and phrases, and had sentiments enough by rote.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The mind of a pure girl," he said, "is indeed as a saint in a shrine. -Woe be to him who desecrates it. We are accustomed to think of such -things too lightly in this land; but you have had foreign education -amongst the chivalrous lords of France, in whom honour is an instinct, -and I will fearlessly trust you to guard her on her journey through -the troubled country across which she will have to pass."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may do so confidently, signor," replied Lorenzo, in a bold tone; -but then he seemed to hesitate; and raising himself on his arm, after -a moment's thought, he added, "I hope, my lord, you will not consider -that I violate the trust reposed in me, if perchance I should, in all -honour, plead my cause with her by the way. Already I love her with an -honourable and yet a passionate love, and I must win her for my wife -if she is to be won. We are both very young, it is too true; but that -only gives me the more time to gain her, if you do not oppose. As for -myself, I know I shall never change, and I would lose neither time nor -opportunity in wooing her affections in return. I fear me, indeed," he -added, "that I could not resist the occasion, were she to go forward -under my guard, and therefore I speak so plainly thus early."</p> - -<p class="normal">He paused a moment, and then continued, with an instinctive -appreciation of the character of him to whom he spoke, which all -Ramiro's apparent disinterested kindness had not been able to affect:</p> - -<p class="normal">"What dower she may have, I know not, neither do I care. I have enough -for both, and allied as I am to more than one royal house, were I -ambitious--and for her sake I may become so--I could carve me a path -which would open out to me and mine high honours and advantages, -unless I be a coward or a fool."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, good youth, we will talk more of this another time," -replied Ramiro d'Orco; "you have done nobly and honestly to speak of -it, and it will only make me trust you more implicitly. Coward you are -none, as you have shown this night, and fool you certainly are not. -You may want the guidance of some experience, and if you be willing to -listen to the counsel of one who has seen more of life than you, I -will show you how to turn your great advantages to good account. It -might not be too vast a scope of fancy to think of a Visconti once -more seated in the chair of Milan. But I have news for you, one of -your comrades in arms has arrived during the night, warned, it would -seem, that some harm was intended you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who is he?" asked Lorenzo eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Young Pierre de Terrail," answered Ramiro. "He seems a noble youth, -and was much grieved to hear that you were suffering. He has brought -some twenty men with him, whom we have lodged commodiously; but I -would not suffer him to come up while you were sleeping, as -undisturbed repose was most necessary to your recovery."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo expressed a strong wish to see his young comrade; and in a few -minutes he, so celebrated afterwards as the Chevalier Bayard, was -introduced. He was at this time a youth of about eighteen years of -age, who at first sight appeared but slightly made, and formed more -for activity than strength. Closer observation, however, showed in the -broad shoulders and open chest, the thin flank, and long, powerful -limbs, the promise of that hardy vigour which he afterwards displayed.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo held out his hand to him with a warm smile, saying, "Welcome, -welcome, De Terrail! You find me here fit for nothing, while there you -are still in your armour, as a reproach to me, I suppose, for not -being ready to march."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so, not so, Visconti," said the young hero. "I did not know how -soon you might wake, or how soon I might have occasion to go on to -Pavia, and therefore I sat me down and slept in my armour, like a -lobster in his shell. But how feel you now? Is the venom wholly -subdued?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, thanks to this noble lord," replied Lorenzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nevertheless," rejoined Ramiro, "you will need several days' repose -before you can venture to mount your horse. Any agitation of the blood -might prove fatal."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, he has just been named by the king to the command of a troop in -our band," answered De Terrail; "but we must manage that for you, -Visconti. We will take it turn and turn about to order your company -for you till you are well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I do not intend to have that troop," replied his young friend. -"It is yours of right, Terrail. You entered full three months before -me; and I will not consent to be put over your head."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will have none of it," answered the young Bayard. "It is the king's -own will, Visconti; and we must obey without grumbling. Besides, do -you think I will rob a man of his post while he is suffering on my -account?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"How am I suffering on your account?" asked Visconti. "What had you to -do with my wound?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you not know that I struck this big fellow in the castle court at -Milan because he was insolent?" said Bayard. "He vowed he would kill -me before the week was out, and, depend upon it, he mistook you for -me. He knew I was coming hither, and thought I was coming alone; for -at first the king ordered me to carry you the news of your nomination, -but he afterwards changed his mind, and sent it by the trumpet who was -going to Pavia. He might not have killed me as easily as he thought; -but he met a still worse playfellow in you, for you killed him -instead. You were always exceedingly skilful with rapier and dagger, -though I think I am your equal with the lance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"O! superior far," answered Lorenzo. "So he is dead, is he? I have but -a confused notion of all that took place last night. I only know that -he attacked me like a wild beast, and I had not even time to draw my -dagger."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay! dead enough," replied De Terrail. "I had a look at him as he lies -below in the hall, and a more fell visage I never saw on a corpse. -Your sword went clear through him, from the right side to the left; -and you only gave him what he well merited--the murderous scoundrel, -to poison his weapons!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is a practice which sometimes must be had resort to, when men -serve great princes," observed Ramiro, with a quiet smile, "but in a -private quarrel it is base."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, base enough any way," replied the young Bayard. "However, you -have rid me of an enemy and the world of an assassin, Lorenzo, and I -hope you will not suffer long. But there, the day is coming up in the -east, and I must on to Pavia presently. I had orders last night to -ride early this morning and mark out our quarters; but when your good -fellow there gave us news of your danger, I came on, by De Vitry's -order, to see if we could defend you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you will wait but half an hour, and break your fast with us in the -hall," said Ramiro d'Orco, "I will ride on with you, and take -advantage of the escort of your men-at-arms, Signor de Terrail."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Willingly," answered the other; "some breakfast were no bad thing; -for, good faith! we supped lightly last night. But I will go and see -that all is ready for departure when we have done our meal."</p> - -<p class="normal">He quitted the room, and Ramiro d'Orco soon after followed, promising -to see his patient again before he departed for the South.</p> - -<p class="normal">Left alone with his young lord, Antonio drew nearer, and, bending down -his head, said, "I wonder, signor, what charm you have used upon the -Signor d'Orco to make his hard iron as soft as soap. Why, he is the -picture of tenderness--Mercy weeping over the guilt of sinners--a -lineal descendant from the good Samaritan, or of that gentleman from -whom the Frangipani are descended, or some other of the charitable -heroes of antiquity. He was never known to shed a tear that was not -produced by something that tickled his nose, or to laugh except when -he saw the grimaces of a man broken on the wheel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush, hush!" said Lorenzo; "to me he has been very kind, and I must -judge of people as I find them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, sir, judge when you know them well," answered Antonio. "Your -pardon, excellent lord; but hear a word or two more. He who was more -than a father to you, placed me near you to serve you, not only with -my limbs, but with my tongue--in the way of counsel, I mean. This man -has benefited you. Be grateful to him; but be not the less on your -guard. Give him no power over you, lest he should abuse it. The -smallest secret in the keeping of a wicked man is a sword over the -head of him who trusted him. If we lock up our own money, how much -more should we lock up our thoughts. I have seen a mountebank's pig -walk upon his hind legs; but I never saw one that could do it long at -a time. If you wait and watch, cunning will always show itself in its -true colours. The face of a man's nature is always too big for any -mask he can buy, and some feature will always be uncovered by which -you can know the man. No one can cover his whole person with a veil; -and if you cannot judge by the face, you can find him out by the -feet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well," said Lorenzo, somewhat impatiently; "open that window -wide, Antonio. My head aches, and I feel half suffocated. Then just -smooth my bed, and put out that winking lamp. I should not have my -chamber look like the room of an hospital."</p> - -<p class="normal">Quick to comprehend, Antonio did not only what Lorenzo ordered, but -much more, and set himself busily to give an air of trim neatness to -the apartment, removing his master's bloody clothing which was lying -on the ground, and placing on a stool clean linen and a new suit, but -taking care to move neither the sword nor the arms, which had been -cast negligently on the table. There was something picturesque in -their arrangement that suited his fancy, and he let them remain. But -in the course of his perquisitions he came to the silver flagon which -had been brought by the page, and, after smelling to it, he asked, -"Why, what is this?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I only know that it kept up my strength when I felt as if each -moment I should die," answered Lorenzo. "I do not think even the -antidote he applied to my arm would have been sufficient to save me -but for its aid; the poison was so potent."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Doubtless," replied Antonio; "but it gives me a secret how to -accelerate your cure, my good lord--A wet napkin round his head will -take off the head-ache, at all events," he muttered to himself; "but -not just yet. Better let these men depart first.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, Antonio, sit down and tell me all that has befallen since I sent -you to Milan," said Lorenzo. "Did you find the small picture of my -mother where old Beatrice told me it would be found?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, my lord; but the case was much broken," replied Antonio. "Here -it is."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he produced one of those miniature portraits which -sometimes even the most celebrated artists of the day were pleased to -paint, and handed it to Lorenzo. It was fixed in an embossed case of -gilded brass; but as the man had said, the back of the case had been -apparently forced sharply open, so as to break the spring lock and one -of the hinges.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo took it, and, raising himself on his elbow, gazed at the -features of a very lovely woman which the picture represented.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And this was my mother!" he murmured, after looking at it for a long -time; and then he added, in a still lower tone, "Vengeance is mine, -saith the Lord!"</p> - -<p class="normal">He then turned the portrait, drew off the dilapidated back of the -case, and read some words which were written round a small oval box -forming part of the frame, but concealed by the case when it was -closed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A cure for the ills of life!" were the words; and, lifting the lid of -the box, he beheld several small papers, containing some substance -within them, discoloured by age.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Know you what these are?" he asked of Antonio.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my lord," replied the man; "poison, I suppose, as death is 'the -only cure for all the ills of life.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Right!" replied Lorenzo, musing, "right! He told me she had only -escaped dishonour by death."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, my good young lord, I can tell you more of it," answered Antonio. -"You were a baby then; but I am well-nigh fifteen years older, and I -remember it all right well. I was then in Milan, and----"</p> - -<p class="normal">He had not time to finish the sentence ere Ramiro d'Orco entered the -room, followed by Bianca Maria and Leonora. The expression of the -countenance of each of the two girls was somewhat significant of their -characters, Blanche Marie gazed, shrinking and timid, round the room, -as if she expected to behold some ghastly spectacle, till her eyes -lighted upon Lorenzo, and then a glad smile spread over her whole -face. Leonora looked straight on, her eyes fixing upon her wounded -lover at once, as if divining rather than seeing where he lay; and, -walking straight to his bedside, she took the chair nearest, as if of -right.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have brought you two nurses, Lorenzo," said Ramiro; "they will give -their whole care to you, and you will soon be well. But you must -promise me, in honour of the skill which has saved your life, that you -will not hazard it by attempting any exercise for several days."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not," answered Lorenzo, "unless the king's orders especially -require my service. Of course if they do, his orders must be obeyed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Certainly, certainly," replied the other; "but those orders will not -come. He shall hear how near death you have been, and of course will -be considerate. But now farewell. I must go join Monsieur de Terrail. -You shall hear from me, when I reach Bologna, concerning what was -spoken of. Till then, I leave you in kind and tender hands."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he bade him adieu and left him; and Antonio followed, -judging perhaps that Lorenzo's two fair companions would afford -attendance enough.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER X.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Who times gallops withal!" Alas! dear Rosalind, you might -have found -a sweeter illustration than that which you give. Doubtless "he gallops -with a thief to the gallows," but I fear me, impatient joy and -reluctant fear, like most opposites in the circle of all things, meet -and blend into each other. Time gallops full as fast when he carries -along two lovers, and between the hours of meeting and parting his -pace is certainly of the quickest.</p> - -<p class="normal">Never, perhaps, did he travel so fast as with Leonora and Lorenzo. -Their feelings were so new; they were so eager and so warm; they were -so full of youth and youth's impetuous fire, that----smouldering as -love had been for the last ten days, unseen even by their own eyes, -and only lighted into a blaze by the events of the night before--we -might pursue the image of a great conflagration, and say, both were -confused and dazzled by the light, and hardly felt or knew the rapid -passing of the quick-winged moments.</p> - -<p class="normal">Blanche Marie might perhaps have estimated the passage of time more -justly; for the unhappy third person--however he may love the two -others, and whatever interests he may feel in their happiness--has, -after all, but a sorry and a tedious part to play; and although the -fairer and the milder of the two girls was not yet more than fourteen, -she might long--while she sat there, silent, and striving not to -listen to the murmured words of the two lovers--she might long for the -day when her happy hour would come, and when the whole heart's -treasury would be opened for her to pick out its brightest gems. Nay, -perhaps, I might go even a little farther, and remind the reader that -life's earlier stage is shorter in Italy than in most other European -countries; that the olive and the orange ripen fast; and that the -fruits of the heart soon reach maturity in that land. Juliet--all -Italian, impassioned Juliet--was not yet fourteen--not till "Lammas -Eve"--when the consuming fire took possession of her heart, and Lady -Capulet herself was a mother almost at the years of Blanche Marie.</p> - -<p class="normal">But it is an hour----that at which she had now arrived in life's short -day--it is an hour of dreams and fairy forms, in the faint, vapoury -twilight which lies between the dawn and the full day, when the rising -sun paints every mist with gold and rose-colour, and through the very -air of your existence spreads a purple light. The tears of that sweet -time are but as early dew-drops brightened into jewels by the light of -youthful hope, and the onward look of coming years, though kindled -with the first beams of passion, knows not the fiery heat of noon, nor -can conceive the arid dryness of satiety.</p> - -<p class="normal">Blanche Marie sat and dreamed near her two cousins. At first, she -heard some of the words they spoke; but then she listened more to the -speakers in her own heart; and then she gave herself up to visions of -the future; and the outward creature remained but a fair, motionless -statue, unconscious of aught that passed around her, but full of light -and ever-varying fancies.</p> - -<p class="normal">How passed the time none of the three knew, but it passed rapidly, and -Bianca was awakened from her reveries by the sound of a strange voice, -saying, "Pardon, sweet lady," as some one passed her, brushing lightly -against her garments, which he could not avoid touching, on his way to -Lorenzo's bedside.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, how now, Visconti!" exclaimed the new-comer, "What! made a -leader, assaulted by an assassin, wounded with a poisoned weapon, -vanquisher in the fight, saved by a miracle, and nursed by two -beautiful ladies--all in twenty-four hours? By my fay, thou art a -favoured child of chivalry indeed!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Blanche Marie looked round at the speaker, roused from her reverie -suddenly, but not unpleasantly. There was something joyous, -light-hearted, and musical in the voice that spoke, which won favour -by its very tone. Oh! there is a magic in the voice, of which we take -not account enough. Have you not often marked, reader, how one man in -a mixed company will win attention in an instant, not by the matter of -his words, not by the manner, but by the mere tone in which they are -spoken? Have you not sometimes seen two men striving to gain the ear -of a fair lady, and eloquence, and sense, and wit all fail, while -sweet tones only have prevailed? The eye and the ear are but sentries -on guard, and the fair form and the sweet tone are but as passwords to -the camp. Nay, more: some voices have their peculiar harmonies with -the hearts of individuals. One will have no sweetness in its tone to -many, while to another it will be all melody; and all this is no -strange phenomenon; it is quite natural that it should be so. Where is -the man to whom the owlet is as sweet a songster as the lark! and who -can pass the nightingale on his spray, though he may not pause a -moment by the gaudy paroquet? The blackbird's sweet, round pipe, the -thrush's evening welcome to the approaching spring, the lark's -rejoicing fugue in the blue sky, are all sweet to well-tuned ears; but -each finds readier access to some hearts than to others.</p> - -<p class="normal">The voice which awoke Bianca Maria from her reverie was very pleasant -to her ear. There was an unaffected frankness in it--as if welling up -clear from the heart-which was prepossessing to a pure, young, -innocent mind like hers.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! Signor De Vitry," replied Lorenzo, "I have, indeed, had good -fortune in many ways; and I suppose I ought in common gratitude to -Heaven, to think it all unmixed good. But I have somewhat suffered in -body, and now I am troubled to think what is to become of my troop -while I lie here useless. I would the king would bestow it upon De -Terrail, and let me have another chance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Think not of it," answered De Vitry; "we will arrange all things for -you. Bayard is a noble fellow, who will win high fame some day, but we -must obey the king. I find De Terrail has been here, and suppose you -have seen him, for they tell me he went on two hours ago."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Two hours!" exclaimed Lorenzo; "hardly so much, I think."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay! time flies fast under bright eyes," answered De Vitry, with a -laugh. "Two hours the servants below tell me, and no less. However, I -must on my way. I only stopped to inquire what had happened, for no -news had reached me when I marched; and I found a prisoner below whom -Bayard left for me--a man who waited without, it seems, while Monsieur -Buondoni busied himself with you within. I had three others of the -villains in my power before, but they do not seem to be as deep in -their master's secrets as this gentleman. But my provost must have -finished the work I gave him by this time, and so I must on. Your -pardon, sweet young lady, will you give me leave just to look forth -from this window?"</p> - -<p class="normal">He passed Blanche Marie with a courteous inclination of the head, and -gazed forth toward the high road, and then, turning to Lorenzo, added:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, it is all right. Farewell for the present, Visconti. Rest quietly -till you are quite well. We shall halt at Pavia for two or three days -till the king comes on, and then probably for some days more. But I -will come and see you from time to time, and we will make all needful -arrangements. Shall I be welcome, sweet lady?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, right welcome, noble sir," replied Bianca Maria, to whom his -words were addressed; "but you must not go without tasting some -refreshment, and you must see the Count Rovera, my grandsire."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I have but little time," answered De Vitry; "and yet a cup of -wine from such fair hands were mightily refreshing after a dusty ride. -Your grandsire I will see when I am in a more fitting attire. 'Tis but -six miles to Pavia, I am told; and I will soon ride over again, were -it but to make excuse to the old count for hanging an assassin just -before his gates. However, it may chance to warn others of the same -cloth to venture here no more."</p> - -<p class="normal">Bianca Maria's cheek turned somewhat pale, and she suddenly turned her -eyes in the direction toward which De Vitry had been looking from the -window a moment or two before. There was a dark object hanging among -the bare branches of a mulberry-tree long divested of its leaves. She -could not exactly distinguish what that object was, but she divined; -and, turning away with a shudder, she murmured:</p> - -<p class="normal">"For Heaven's sake, my lord, have him cut down."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Certainly, if you wish it," replied De Vitry; "but, dear lady, it is -needful to punish such villains, or we should soon have but few of our -French nobles, or those who hold with us, left alive. However, there -can be no great harm in cutting him down now, for my provost does not -do any such things by halves."</p> - -<p class="normal">He took a step toward the door, and then paused for a moment, as if -not quite certain of the fair young girl's wishes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You know, I suppose," he said, in a tone of inquiry, "that this man -whom they have just hanged, is one of those who came to assassinate -Signor Visconti here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My cousin has avenged himself in defending himself," answered Bianca -Maria. "I am sure he does not wish any others to suffer."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," answered De Vitry, with a laugh; "I thought myself mightily -compassionate that I did not hang the other three, as, I dare say, -they all well deserved; but this fellow was caught waiting for -Buondoni, and was, we found, in the whole secret. However, we will -have him cut down, if such be your pleasure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, pray do, my lord--pray do, at once!" cried Bianca; "perhaps there -may be life in him yet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now Heaven forbid!" cried De Vitry; "but come with me, sweet lady, -and you shall hear the order given instantly. Adieu, Visconti! -Farewell, beautiful lady with the dark eyes! You have not bestowed one -word upon me; but, nevertheless, I kiss your hand."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left the room with Blanche Marie, who led him by a -staircase somewhat distant from that which conducted to the great -hall, where the body of Buondoni still lay, to a vestibule, where -several of the marquis's attendants were waiting. There the orders -which De Vitry had promised were soon given, and a cup of wine was -brought for his refreshment. He lingered over it for a longer space of -time than he had intended, and while he did so, he contrived to wile -Bianca Maria's thoughts away from the event that had saddened them. -Indeed, though the young girl was less light and volatile than she -seemed to be, and many of her age really were, he effected his -object--if it was an object--far more readily than could have been -supposed. There was something in his manner toward her which amused -and yet teased her, which pleased but did not frighten her. There was -a certain touch of gallantry in it, and evidently no small portion of -admiration; and yet it was clear he looked upon her as a child, and -that in all his civil speeches there was at least as much jest as -earnest. Nevertheless, every now and then there was a serious tone -which fell pleasantly upon the young girl's ear, and was thought of in -after hours.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust the count will soon be here," she said, at length; "you had -better stay, Signor de Vitry, and see him. He sat up during the -greater part of the night, I am told, anxious about my cousin. But he -must rise soon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My sweet lady," answered the soldier, "I must not stay. I have -two--nay, three good reasons for going: first that a beautiful young -lady has already beguiled me to stay longer than I should; secondly, -that a pleasant old gentleman might beguile me to stay still longer; -and, thirdly, that, as I intend to come back again often, I must -husband excuses for my visits, and one shall be to see the count, and -to apologize in person for acting high justiciary upon his lands. You -have forgiven me already, I think, else there in no truth is those -blue eyes; and so I kiss your hand, and promise to behave better when -next I come."</p> - -<p class="normal">Blanche Marie had ample matter for meditation during the rest of that -day, at least.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XI.</h4> - -<p class="normal">In those days, as in the present, there was situated, somewhere or -other in the garden, farm, or podere of every Italian villa, sometimes -hid among the fig-trees, olives, or mulberries, sometimes planted -close to one of the gates of the inclosing walls, a neat farm-house, -the abode of the contadino, who dwelt there usually in much more -happiness and security than attended his lords and masters in their -more magnificent abodes. It is true that occasionally a little -violence might be brought down upon the heads of the family, by any -extraordinary beauty in a daughter or a niece, or any very ferocious -virtue upon the parents' part; but, sooth to say, I fear me much that, -since the times of Virginius, Italian fathers have not looked with -very severe eyes upon affairs of gallantry between their daughters and -men of elevated station, nor have the young ladies themselves been -very scrupulous in accepting the attentions of well-born cavaliers. -The inconveniences resulting from such adventures apart, the life of -an Italian peasant was far more safe and far more happy in those days -than the life of a noble or a citizen, and Sismondi has justly pointed -out that they were more contented with their lot, and had more cause -for content, than any other class in the land. No very heavy exactions -pressed upon them; their lords were generally just, and even generous; -and it rarely happened that they saw their harvests wasted even by the -wandering bands, whose leaders wisely remembered that they and their -soldiers must depend upon those harvests for support.</p> - -<p class="normal">The house of a contadino has less changed than almost any other -building in Italy. There was always a certain degree of taste -displayed in its construction, and there was always one room a good -deal larger than any of the rest, with plenty of air blowing through -it, to which, when the sun shone too strongly under the porch, any of -the family could retire <i>per pigliar la fresca</i>. It was in this large -room at the farm, in the gardens of the villa, that, at an early hour -of the day which succeeded the death of Buondoni, a strange sight -might be seen. The door was locked and barred, and from time to time -each of those within--and there were several--turned a somewhat -anxious, fearful look towards it or to the windows, as if they were -engaged in some act for which they desired no witnesses. Two women, an -old and a young one, stood at the head of a long table; a second girl -was seen at the side; a young man was near the other end, holding a -large, heavy bucket in his hand; and at some distance from all the -rest, with his arms folded on his chest and somewhat gloomy -disapproving brow, was the contadino himself, gazing at what the -others were about, but taking no part therein himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">The object, however, of most interest lay upon the table. It was -apparently the corpse of a man from thirty-five to forty years of age, -dressed in the garb of a retainer of some noble house. His long black -hair flowed wildly from his head, partly soiled with dust, partly -steeped with water. His dress also was wet, and the collar of his coat -as well as that of his vest seemed to have been torn rudely open. He -had apparently died a violent death: the face was of a dark waxen -yellow, and the tongue, which protruded from the mouth, had been -bitten in violent agony between the teeth. Round his neck, and -extending upwards towards the left ear, was a dark red mark, -significant of the manner of his death.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here, Giulo, here!" cried the elder woman, "pour the water over him -again. His eyes roll in his head. He is coming to!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, Marie! what a face he makes," exclaimed one of the girls, -shutting out the sight with her hands.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Poor fools! you will do more harm than good," murmured the contadino; -"let the man pass in peace! I would sooner spend twenty lire in masses -for his soul than bring him back to trouble the world any more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Would you have us act like tigers or devils, you old iniquity?" asked -his wife, shaking three fingers at him. "The life is in the poor man -yet. Shall we let him go out of the world without unction or -confession, for fear of what these French heretics may do to us?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Besides, Madonna Bianca had him cut down to save his life," cried the -girl who stood nearest his head. "You would fain please her, I trow, -father. I heard her myself pray for him to be cut down, and she will -be glad to hear we have recovered him. It was that which made me run -away for Giulio as soon as the order was given."</p> - -<p class="normal">While this dialogue was going on, the young man, Giulio, had poured -the whole bucket of water over the recumbent body on the table, -dashing it on with a force which might well have driven the soul out -of a living man, but which, on this occasion, seemed to have the very -opposite effect of bringing spirit into a dead one. Suddenly the -eyelids closed over the staring eyes; there was a shudder passed over -the whole frame; the fingers seemed to grasp at some fancied object on -the table, and at length respiration returned, at first in fitful -gasps, but soon with regular and even quiet action. The eyes then -opened again, and turned from face to face with some degree of -consciousness; but they closed again after a momentary glance around, -and he fell into what seemed a heavy sleep, distinguished from that -still heavier sleep into which he had lately lain by the equable -heaving of the chest.</p> - -<p class="normal">The mother and the two girls looked on rejoicing, and Giulio, too, had -a well-satisfied look, for such are the powers of that wonderful -quality called vanity, that as it was under his hand the man -recovered, he attributed his resuscitation entirely to his own skill; -and had his patient been the devil himself come to plague him and all -the world, good Giulio would have glorified himself upon the triumph -of his exertions. And well he might; for, unfortunately, as this world -goes, men glory as much over their success in bad as in good actions, -judging not the merit of deeds by their consequences, even where those -consequences are self-evident. Success, success is all that the world -esteems. It is the gold that will not tarnish--the diamond whose -lustre no breath can dim.</p> - -<p class="normal">The old contadino, however, was even less pleased with the result of -his family's efforts than he had been with the efforts themselves.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Satan will owe us something," he muttered, "for snatching from him -one of his own, and he is a gentleman who always pays his debts. By my -faith, I will go up and tell the count what has chanced. I do not -choose to be blamed for these women's mad folly. Better let him know -at once, while the fellow is in such a state that a pillow over his -mouth will soon put out the lighted flame they have lighted in him--if -my lord pleases."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What are you murmuring there, you old hyena?" asked his gentle wife.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, nothing, nothing, good dame," replied the husband; "'twas only -the fellow's grimaces made me sick, and I must out into the podere. -C--e! I did not think you would have succeeded so well with the poor -devil. I hope he'll soon be able to jog away from here; for, though he -may move and talk again--and I dare say he will--I shall always look -upon him as a dead man, notwithstanding. Suppose, now, that it should -not be his own soul that has come back into him, wife, but some bad -spirit, that all your working and water--I am sure it was not holy -water--has brought back into his poor, miserable corpse!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Jesu Maria! do not put such thoughts into my head, Giovanozzo," -exclaimed the old lady with a look of horror; "but that cannot be, -either, for I made Giulio put some salt into the water, and the devil -can never stand that; so go along with you. You cannot frighten me. Go -and try to get back your senses, for you seem to have lost them, good -man."</p> - -<p class="normal">The contadino was glad to get away unquestioned; and, unlocking the -door, he issued forth from his house. At first he did not turn his -steps toward the villa, but took a path which led down to the river. -At the distance of some hundred or hundred and fifty yards, however, -where the trees screened him from his own dwelling, he looked round to -see that none of his family followed, and then turned directly up the -little rise. When near the terrace he saw a man coming down the steps -toward him, and suddenly paused; but a moment's observation showed him -that he need have no alarm. The person who approached was no other -than Antonio, between whom and the good peasant a considerable -intimacy had sprung up since Lorenzo Visconti had been at the Villa -Rovera. Would you taste the best wine on an estate, or eat the -sweetest fig of the season, make friends with the contadino and his -family; and, perhaps acting on this maxim, Antonio had often been down -to pass an hour or two with Giovanozzo, and enliven the whole -household with his jests.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The very man," said the contadino to himself; "he'll tell me just -what I ought to do. He has travelled, and seen all manner of things. -He is just the person. Signor Antonio, good morning to your -excellency! What is in the wind to-day?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing but a strong scent of dead carrion that I can smell," -answered Antonio.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," said the contadino, with a grin, "I do not wonder, for -there's carrion down at our house, and the worst carrion a man think -of, for it's not only dead carrion, but live carrion, too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alive with maggots. I take you," answered Antonio; "that is a shallow -conceit, Giovanozzo. It hardly needs an ell yard to plumb that."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay you are not at the bottom of it yet," replied the peasant; -"it is alive and dead, and yet no maggots in it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then the maggots are in thy brain," answered Antonio. "But speak -plainly, man, speak plainly. If you keep hammering my head with -enigmas, I shall have no brains left to understand your real meaning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, signor," said the contadino, gravely, "I want advice."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And, like a wise man, come to me," replied his companion; "mine is -the very shop to find it; I have plenty always on hand for my -customers, never using any of it myself, and receiving it fresh daily -from those who have it to spare. What sort of advice will you have, -Giovanozzo? the advice interested or disinterested--the advice -fraternal or paternal--the advice minatory, or monitory, or -consolatory--the advice cynical or philosophical?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, but this is a serious matter, signor," answered the contadino.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then you shall have serious advice," answered Antonio. "Proceed. Lay -the case before me in such figures as may best suit its condition, and -I will try and fit my advice thereunto as tight as a jerkin made by a -tailor who loves cabbage more than may consist with the ease of his -customers."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, let us sit down on this bank," said Giovanozzo, "for it is a -matter which requires much consideration and--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Like a hen's egg, requires to be sat upon," interrupted Antonio. -"Well, in this also I will gratify you, signor. Now to your tale."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, you must know," proceeded the contadino, "that this morning, an -hour or two ago, just when I was coming up from the well, I saw Judita -and Margarita, with Giulio, carrying something heavy into the house. -It took all their strength, I can tell you, though the man was not a -big man, after all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A man!" exclaimed Antonio; "was it a man they were carrying?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing short of a man," replied Giovanozzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet a short man too," said Antonio. "Was he a dead man?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes and no," replied the peasant; "he was dead then, but he is alive -now. But just listen, signor. It seems that a whole troop of these -Frenchmen came down this way at an early hour, on their way to Pavia, -and that they halted at the gates; but before they halted, they saw a -man on horseback, standing at the little turn-down to Signor Manini's -podere; and that, as soon as he saw them, he tried to spur away, but -their spurs were sharper than his; so they caught him and brought him -back. Then, some hours after, up comes another party, and they held a -sort of council over him, and confronted him with two or three other -prisoners, and then strung him up to the branch of the great -mulberry-tree. But presently some one came out of the villa and -ordered him to be cut down, and as soon as that was done they all rode -away, leaving him there lying on the road. That is what Giulio told -me, for he was looking over the wall all the time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Dangerous peeping, Signor Giovanozzo," said Antonio solemnly; "but -what did the lad do, then?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, he would have let him lie quiet enough, if he had had his own -way," replied the contadino, "for Giulio is a discreet youth. He takes -after me in the main, and knows when to let well enough alone, when -his mother and his sisters are not at his heels; but the good <i>madre</i> -you know--" and here he added a significant grimace, which finished -the sentence. "However," he continued, "Margarita, who is tiring-woman -to the young contessa, came running out of the villa, and told Giulio -that it was Bianca Maria's orders to see if there was any life in the -man, and try to save him. So they looked at him together, and fancied -they saw his face twitch, and then they called Judita and carried him -down into the house."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And then?" asked Antonio.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, then they sluiced him with cold water, and poured Heaven knows -what all down his throat, or into his mouth, at least."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And then?" said Antonio, again.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, then he began to wake up," replied the contadino, "and now he is -snoring on a table down below, and I dare say he will be all the -better for his hanging."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He might have been so, if Giulio had not been too near," answered -Antonio, drily, and then fell into a fit of thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am sure the devil has something to do with it," said Giovanozzo, in -an inquiring tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Beyond doubt," replied Antonio, solemnly; "but whether in the hanging -or the resuscitation, who shall say? However, I will go down and see -the gentleman. Do you know who he is?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"One of Signor Buondoni's men, I fancy," replied the peasant. "We hear -the signor was killed last night on the terrace, and I was thinking to -come up and see the corpse. He must lay out handsomely, for he was a -fine-looking man. I saw him by the moonlight just when he came to the -gates yester-evening. I hope you do not think our people will be -blamed by the old count for whatever we have done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no," replied Antonio, "you have done right well; though, if you -had killed the one and not saved the other, you might have done -better. Now let us go down to your house."</p> - -<p class="normal">They walked some hundred yards in silence, and then Antonio said -abruptly, "I wonder what is the good man's name. One of my old -playfellows was in Buondoni's service, I hear. What like is he, -Giovan'?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why he is little and thin," answered the contadino, "with a big beard -like a German's, and a sharp face. His muzzle is much like a -hedgehog's, only he is as yellow as a lemon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That has to do with the hanging," answered Antonio. "I have seen -many a man hanged when I was in France. The late king, who was no way -tender, did a good deal in that way, and most of those he strung up -were very yellow when they were cut down. I should have thought it -would have turned them blue, but it was not so. However, I think I -know this gentleman, and if so, must have a talk with him before he -goes forth into the wicked world again. I would fain warn him, as a -friend, against bad courses, which, though (as he must have found) -they often lead to elevated places, are sure to end in a fall, and -sometimes in a broken neck. But here we are before your house, -Giovanozzo, and there goes Giulio, seeking you, I expect. Let him go, -man--let him go. I wish you would send Margarita one way after him and -Judita the other, and then get up a little quarrel with your amiable -wife, for I must positively speak with this gentleman alone, and may -bestow some time upon him."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">By the side of a small bed, in a small room next to the larger -one of -which I have already spoken in noticing the usual arrangements of a -contadino's house, sat our friend Antonio, nearly an hour after his -meeting with Giovanozzo. The same man who, some time before, had lain -upon the table in the adjoining chamber now occupied the bed; but he -was apparently sound asleep. The contadino's Xantippe had informed her -husband, or rather Antonio, for whom she entertained much higher -veneration, that the "poor soul," as she called Buondoni's retainer, -had awoke and spoken quite cheerfully, but that he had now fallen into -a more refreshing kind of slumber; and anxious to busy herself about -her household affairs, she had willingly left her patient to Antonio's -care, upon being assured that they were old companions.</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio, as the reader may have remarked, had that curious habit, -common to both sages and simpletons, of occasionally giving vent to -his thoughts in words, even when there was no one to listen to -them--not in low tones, indeed, but in low-muttered murmurs--not in -regular and unbroken soliloquy, but in fragments of sentences, with -lapses of silent meditation between.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is Mardocchi," he said; "it is Mardocchi beyond all doubt. -Mightily changed, indeed, he is--but that scar cutting through the -eyebrow. I remember giving him the wound that made it with the palla."</p> - -<p class="normal">He fell into silence again for a few minutes, and then he murmured, -"We used to say he would be hanged. So he has fulfilled his destiny, -and got off better than most men in similar circumstances." Here came -another break, during which the stream of thought ran on still; and -then he said, "Now let any one tell me whether it was better for this -man to be brought to life again or not. His troubles in this life were -all over, he had taken the last hard gasp; the agony, and the -expectation, and the fear were all done and over, and now they have -all to come over again, probably in the very same way too, for he is -certain to get into more mischief, and deserve more hanging, and take -a better hold of Purgatory, even if he do not go farther still. He -never had but one good quality; he would keep his word with you for -good or ill against the devil himself. He had a mighty stubborn will, -and once he had said a thing he would do it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Here came another lapse, which lasted about five minutes, and then -Antonio murmured quite indistinctly, "I wonder if he be really asleep! -He could feign anything beautifully, and his eyes seemed to give a -sort of wink just now. We will soon see." Some minutes of silence then -succeeded, and at length Antonio spoke aloud: "No," he said, as if -coming to some fixed and firm conclusion, "no; it would be better for -him himself to die. The good woman did him a bad service. These -Frenchmen will hang him again whenever they catch him, and if there be -any inquiry into the death of Buondoni, they will put him on the rack; -besides, we may all get ourselves into trouble by conniving at his -escape from justice. Better finish it at once while he is asleep, and -before he half knows he has been brought to life again."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then unsheathed his dagger, which was both long and broad, tried -the point upon his finger, and gazed at his companion. Still there was -no sign of consciousness. The next moment, however, Antonio rose, -deliberately pushed back his sleeve from his wrist, as if to prevent -it from being soiled with blood, and then raised the dagger high over -the slumbering man.</p> - -<p class="normal">The instant he did so, Mardocchi started up, and clasped his wrist, -exclaiming, "Antonio Biondi, what would you do? kill your unhappy -friend?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio burst into a loud laugh, saying, "Only a new way of waking a -sleeping man, Mardocchi. The truth is, I have no time to wait till -your shamming is over in the regular course. We have matters of life -and death to talk of; and you must cast away all trick and deceit, and -act straightforwardly with me, that we may act quickly; your own life -and safety depend upon it. Now tell me, what did the Lord of Vitry -hang you for?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"His morning's sport, I fancy," answered the man; "but softly, good -friend; you forget I hardly know as yet whether I am of this world or -another. My senses are still all confused, and you, Antonio--my old -playmate--should have some compassion on me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So I have, Mardocchi," answered Antonio; "and, as these good people -have brought you back to life, I wish to save you from being sent out -of it again more quickly than you fancy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where is the danger?" asked Mardocchi, hesitating.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is just what I want to discover," said the other; "not vaguely, -not generally, but particularly, in every point. General dangers I can -see plenty, but I must know all the particular ones, in order to place -you in safety. Do you know that your lord, Buondoni, is dead?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, so the good woman told me," replied the other; "killed by that -young cub of the Viscontis. Curses on him!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio marked both the imprecation and the expression of countenance -with which it was uttered; but he did not follow the scent at once. -"Do you know at whose prayer you were cut down?" he asked.</p> - -<p class="normal">"They tell me at the instance of the Signorina de Rovera," replied -Mardocchi; "a young thing I think she is. I saw her once, I believe, -with the Princess of Ferrara. If I live, I will find some way to repay -her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, that is just the question," replied Antonio, "if you are to -live or die? Hark you, Mardocchi! you must tell me all, if you would -have me save you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But can you, will you save me?" inquired the man; "and yet why should -I fear? The Frenchmen cut me down themselves, I am told."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but they are very likely to hang you up again, if they find you -out of sight of the pretty lady who interceded for you. Nay, more, -Mardocchi: all men believe that you were deep in the secrets of -Buondoni and of the Count Regent through him. Now, as you know, the -King of France is very likely to put you to the rack if he finds you, -to make you tell those secrets; and your good friend Ludovic the Moor, -is very likely to strangle you, to make sure that you keep them."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mardocchi made no reply, for he knew there was much truth in Antonio's -words; but, after a moment's pause, the other proceeded, "You must get -out of Lombardy as fast as possible, my good friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But where can I go? what can I do?" asked the unhappy man. "I have -lost my only friend and patron. I am known all through this part of -the country. I almost wish the women had let me alone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It might have been better," said Antonio in a meditative tone. "'Once -for all' is a good proverb, Mardocchi. However, I think I could help -you if I liked; I think I could get you out of Lombardy, and into the -Romagna, and find you a good master, who wants just such a fellow as -yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then do it! do it!" cried Mardocchi, eagerly; "do it for old -companionship; do it, because, for that old companionship, I have -forgiven more to you than I ever forgave to any other man. Why should -you not do it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is but one reason," answered Antonio, gravely, "and that lies -in your own words. When you spoke of Lorenzo Visconti just now, you -called down curses upon him. Now he is my lord and my friend. I was -placed near him by Lorenzo the Magnificent, and promised I would -always help and protect him. Do you think I should be doing either if -I aided to save a man who would murder him the first opportunity? I -always keep my word, Mardocchi."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And so do I," answered Mardocchi, gloomily. "Sacchi and the rest told -all they knew to the Frenchman, out of fear for their pitiful lives, -and they saved themselves. I refused to tell anything, because I had -promised not, and they strung me up to the branch of a tree. But I -will promise you, Antonio, I will never raise my hand against the -young man. I shall hate him ever, but--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let me think," said Antonio; and, after meditating for a moment, he -added, "there are ways of destroying him without raising your hand -against him: there is the cord. Listen to my resolution, Mardocchi, -and you know I will keep it: if you will promise me not to take his -life in any way--for I know you right well--I will help you, for old -companionship, to escape, and to join a noble lord in the Romagna; -but, if you do not promise, I will make sure of you by other means. -I have but to speak a word, and you are on the branch of the -mulberry-tree again--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stop, stop!" said Mardocchi; "do not threaten me. I am -weak--sick--hardly yet alive, but I do not like threats. The crushed -adder bites. Let me think: I hate him," he continued, slowly, -recovering gradually from the excitement under which he had first -spoken. "I shall always hate him, but that is no reason I should kill -him. I have never promised to kill him--never even threatened to kill -him. If I had, I would do it or die; but I do not like death. I have -tasted it, and no man likes to eat of that dish twice. It is very -bitter; and I promise you in your own words, Antonio. But you likewise -must remember your promise to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did you ever know me fail?" said the other. "The first thing is to -get you well, the next to shave off that long beard and those wild -locks, and then, with a friar's gown and the cord of St. Francis, I -will warrant I get you in the train of one of these French lords. Can -you enact a friar, think you, Mardocchi?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes," said Mardocchi, with a bitter grin, "I can drink and -carouse all night, tell a coarse tale with a twinkling eye, laugh loud -at a small jest, and do foul services for a small reward, if it be to -save my life; but then I cannot speak these people's language, -Antonio."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All the better--all the better," answered Antonio; "many of them know -a little Italian, and hard questions put in a foreign tongue, are -easily parried. It would be a good thing for one half of the world if -it did not understand what the other half said."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But who is this good lord to whom you are going to send me?" asked -the man. "Is he a courtier or a soldier."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A little of both," answered Antonio, "but more a man of counsel than -either. His name is Ramiro d'Orco."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! I have heard of him," said Mardocchi. "He puzzles the people -about the court. All men think that at heart he has vast ambition, and -yet none can tell you why he thinks so. All agree in that, though some -think he is a philosopher, some a simpleton."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well," answered Antonio, "the first thing is for you to recover -health and strength, the next to get you safely away, the third to -make you known to the Signor Ramiro. He is the sort of man to suit -your views. I know him well. He is rich, and, as you say, ambitious. -He is wise, too, in a certain way; and though he has not yet found a -path to the objects he aims at, he will find one in time, or make one, -even were he to hew it through his own flesh and blood. He wants -serviceable men about him, and that is the reason I send you to him. -If he rises, he will pull you up; if he falls, there is no need he -should pull you down with him. But we will converse more to-morrow; -to-day you have talked enough, perhaps too much."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, Antonio, Antonio," said the other, eagerly catching his sleeve, -"you will tell no one that I am here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No one on earth," answered Antonio; and, bidding him farewell, he -left him.</p> - -<p class="normal">The journey of Antonio back to the villa was somewhat longer than it -needed to have been. He took devious and circuitous paths, and even -turned back for a part of the way more than once. It was not, however, -that he fancied himself watched, or that he feared that any one might -discover where he had been; but his brain was very busy, and he did -not wish his thoughts interrupted till they had reached certain -conclusions from which they were distant when he set out. He asked -himself if he could really trust to Mardocchi's word, knowing but too -well how predominant the desire of revenge is in every Italian heart. -He half accused himself of folly in having promised him so much; and -though he was, in truth, a good and sincere man, yet the common habits -and feelings of his country every now and then suggested that it would -be easy to put an end to all doubt and suspicion, if he saw cause, by -the use of the Italian panacea, the stiletto. "But yet," he said to -himself, "it may be better to take my chance of his good faith, and -let him live. I never knew him break his word, and by his means, -perhaps, I may penetrate some of Signor Ramiro's purposes in regard to -young Lorenzo. I will tie him down to some promise on that point too. -He will need my help yet in many ways; and though I will not set a man -to betray his master, yet I may well require him to warn his friends."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was an age and a country in which men dealt peculiarly in -subtleties, so much so, indeed, that right and truth were often -refined away to nothing, especially in the higher and better educated -classes of society. The bravo, indeed, was often a more -straightforward and truthful man than the nobleman who employed him. -He would own frankly that he was committing a great sin; but then he -had faith in the Virgin, and she would obtain remission for him. His -employer would find a thousand reasons to justify the deed, and would -so pile up motives and necessities in self-defence that it would seem -almost doubtful which was most to be pitied, himself or his victim. -Antonio was by no means without this spirit of casuistry; and though -no man could cut through a long chain of pretences with more trenchant -wit than he could, in the case of another, yet he might not -unfrequently employ them in his own. He resolved, therefore, not to -engage Mardocchi to betray his master's secrets, but only to reveal -them when it was necessary that he, Antonio, should know them. The -difference, indeed, was very slight, but it was sufficient to satisfy -him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio's mind then naturally reverted to Ramiro d'Orco, and he asked -himself again and again what could be the motive which led a man so -famous for stoical hardness to show such tenderness and consideration -for Lorenzo Visconti. "It may be," he thought, "that this grim old -tyrant thinks it a splendid match for his daughter. But then they say -she has a magnificent fortune of her own--her dower that of a -princess. There must be some other end in view. She is a glorious -creature too, midway between Juno and Sappho. Well, we must wait and -watch. Heaven knows how it will all turn out. Perhaps, after all, -Ramiro has some scheme against one of the princes of Romagna, in which -he hopes to engage the King of France through young Lorenzo's -influence.--It is so, I think--it is so, surely. He wants serviceable -men, too, and asked me if I knew of any. Well, I think I have fitted -him with one at least, and he will owe me something for the good turn. -But I must hie homeward, and keep these things to myself. No more -interfering between Lorenzo and his young love. He bore my warnings -badly this morning: I must let things take their course, and try to -guide without opposing."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Milan had its attractions even for the gay court of France. It -was a -devout and dissolute city; and we know how jovially, in some countries -and at some times, dissoluteness and devotion have contrived to jog on -together. Pastime and penitence, pleasure and penance, alternated -among the courtiers of Charles VIII. with very agreeable variety; and -it has been whispered that the young king himself was not unwilling -either to finger forbidden fruit, or to express contrition afterward. -At all events, he wasted many precious days in the Lombard capital. -Morning after morning, fresh detachments of his army were sent forward -to Pavia, till that city might be considered in possession of his -troops; but still the young king lingered, and it was not till nine -days after the events we have recorded in the last two or three -chapters that the main host of France took its way southward.</p> - -<p class="normal">How passed the intermediate time with those we have left in the Villa -de Rovera? It was very sweetly. We must not dwell upon it, because it -was so sweet; but a few words will tell all. Lorenzo almost longed to -remain an invalid, that there might be a fair excuse for Leonora's -tending; and Leonora feared to see him recover health and strength too -soon, lest the order to depart should hurry him away.</p> - -<p class="normal">Strange tales are told of the effects of Italian poisons in those -days, and doubtless much exaggeration mingles with all the accounts we -have received, but certain it is, that, though the youth recovered -steadily, each day gaining a little, yet his convalescence was slow, -and the subtle bane of Buondoni's sword was more or less felt for many -after days. Still no order to march arrived, but every day, about -noon, the good Lord de Vitry rode over, well attended, from Pavia to -inquire after the health of his young friend; and although it is -certain that Leonora could have given him more minute accounts of -Lorenzo's state, and the old Count de Rovera could have furnished him -with juster and more scientific views of Lorenzo's progress towards -recovery, it was always Bianca Maria he first asked for. He speedily -became a great favorite with the old count nevertheless. There was -something in his frank, soldier-like bearing that pleased, and -something in his ever merry conversation that amused the old man, so -that he began to wish the day far distant when the noble Lord of Vitry -would come no more.</p> - -<p class="normal">Bianca Maria was very happy too, and she gave the rein to happiness -without fear. Neither she nor De Vitry ever dreamed that he was making -love. She thought herself too young to be the object of passion, and -he thought so too. He fancied he should like to have a daughter just -like herself, without the slightest change in thought or look--he -would not have had a word she said altered--he would not have parted -with one ringlet from her head; and she pictured to herself how -pleasant it would have been to have an elder brother just like De -Vitry.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the house of the contadino all went on favourably likewise. Antonio -visited the place every day, till at length, one morning early, he -walked forth with a sandaled friar, who passed round the wall of the -podere with him, and mounted a mule which was held by a little -peasant-boy. Some ten minutes after, a troop of twenty French lances -rode slowly on towards Pavia, and the friar, by Antonio's -intercession, was permitted to join himself to the band. The contadino -and the contadino's wife were for once satisfied with the same thing.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, the eventful day arrived when the King of France -commenced his march from Milan against Naples. Drum, and trumpet, and -pennon, and banderol, and long lines of glittering lances, and -gorgeous surcoats, and splendid suits of armour, passed along the road -within sight of the Villa Rovera, and though no absolute order had -arrived commanding Lorenzo to join his troop and assume the command -which had been bestowed upon him, yet, as he gazed upon the passing -host from the higher windows, he felt that duty required him to linger -no longer, and that the next day, at the latest, he was bound to tear -himself away from those who, in the short space of a few weeks, had -become so dear to him. He felt sad; and yet there was something to a -young and eager mind like his, in the inspiring sight of military -array, which had its consolatory influence. He thought of acquiring -glory and renown for Leonora's sake, and returning to her with bright -fame and a glorious name, with a proud consciousness of courage and of -skill in arms. "If we must part--" he said to himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">If they were to part! That was the consideration most painful, for he -had flattered himself every day with the hope that the promised letter -of Ramiro d'Orco would arrive, giving him authority to escort his fair -promised bride to join her father: and oh! how many enchanted scenes -had Fancy fabricated out of the vague shadows of that expected -journey! No letter had arrived; the army was on its march; he could -delay no longer; and the bitterness of disappointment was added to the -bitterness of anticipated separation.</p> - -<p class="normal">The last troopers of the main host of France disappeared; and Leonora -gazed in Lorenzo's eyes, knowing, divining what was passing in his -heart, as they stood, together, with Bianca Maria gazing from the -neighbouring window.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must go, Lorenzo," said the beautiful girl, "you must go, I know -it. Fear not to speak the words; Leonora would not keep you from the -path of fame and honour if she could. It will be very terrible, but -still you must go. I had hoped, indeed--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"See! see!" cried Bianca Maria: "there are more horsemen coming. It is -the king himself and his court; I remember well the array; and there -is Count Ludovic, on the monarch's left."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora and her lover turned to the window again, and saw the royal -train sweep on towards them. But suddenly the king drew in his rein -just opposite the gates. He did not dismount; but a horseman dashed -out from the escort, and rode into the court-yard of the villa.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is the order," said Lorenzo, in a low voice, "it is the order, and -I must run down to receive it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The two lovely girls followed him quickly; for theirs was an age when -nature's impulses have not been curbed and disciplined, restrained and -checked, either by the iron rules of a factitious state of society or -the harder and more terrible shackles of experience. At the bottom of -the great staircase he found the old Count of Rovera speaking with one -of the king's officers, out of whose mouth he took the words of the -monarch's message, saying, as soon as he saw Lorenzo, "His Majesty the -King of France, my young cousin, desires your presence without. He has -not time to dismount, this noble gentleman tells me, otherwise he -would have honoured our poor house by his presence."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo hurried away unbonneted, and the count, looking with a smile -at his cousin and granddaughter, said gaily:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now would I wager this jewel against a fool's bauble that you girls -would give your ears to hear the conference. If so, take the rich -peaches Giovanozzo brought just now--one take them on the gold salver, -and let the other carry out a cup of our best wine to refresh the -monarch after his long ride."</p> - -<p class="normal">But there is an innate modesty which requires no teaching of art, and -Leonora answered:</p> - -<p class="normal">"I pray you excuse me, sir; they are all men there without, and we -should blush to obtrude ourselves upon the gaze of so many eyes."</p> - -<p class="normal">As she spoke a warm glow came upon the face of Bianca Maria, but it -was not her cousin's words that called it there. A shadow darkened the -doorway, and the sound of a step well-known to the young girl's ear -was heard, which brought the joyous blood from the heart to the cheek -in a moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have stolen away," said De Vitry, "like a thief, and I have been a -thief, too, sweet ladies, and my noble lord. Just before I set out -from Pavia to meet the king, a courier came from Bologna; and, good -faith, when I found out what he carried, I made free to rob him of his -bags, not knowing who else might finger them. That letter for you, my -lord count--that for you, Signora Leonora; and here is one also for -Visconti, which I may as well trust to you also, very sure you will -deliver it safely."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And none for me?" asked Blanche Marie, with a faint smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"None--only a message," said De Vitry, while the others busied -themselves with their letters they had received; and, as he spoke, he -drew the fair young girl aside, adding, "I must deliver it quickly, -for I must be back ere I am missed."</p> - -<p class="normal">What he said to her in that low whisper, who shall tell? Her cheek -turned pale, and then glowed crimson red, and her knees shook, and her -lips quivered, so as to stop the words that struggled for utterance, -and yet there was joy in her eyes. It was as if he had given her the -key of some treasury in her own heart which overwhelmed her with the -first sight of the riches within.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A soldier's love, a soldier's hand, a noble name, an honourable -name--that is all I have to offer," were the words of De Vitry. "I -know I am nearly old enough to be your father; but if you don't mind -that, I don't."</p> - -<p class="normal">He paused a moment as if for an answer, while Blanche Marie stood -still trembling and silent; and, with a shade upon his broad, frank -brow, he was turning away, when she murmured:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay! stay!" and, drawing the glove from her hand, she put it into -his.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will carry it into the cannon's mouth," he said, hiding it in his -scarf; and then he kissed her hand, and returned to the old count and -her fair cousin. "Lady, I must go," he said, taking Leonora's gloved -hand, and bending over it. "My lord the count, farewell. We shall all -meet again soon, I hope; and, in the meantime, you shall hear no evil -of De Vitry, unless some of those foul cannon shot carry off his head. -Adieu! adieu!"</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meantime, Lorenzo had hurried forth, and stood by the side of -the king's horse. Charles gazed kindly at him, and inquired after his -health, while Ludovic the Moor bent his eyes upon him, but without -suffering the slightest shade of enmity to cross his face.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How goes it with you, fair cousin?" asked the king: "think you that -you are able to ride on with the army towards Naples in a day or two?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quite able, sir," answered the young man; "to-morrow, if it should be -your Majesty's pleasure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pale--pale," said the monarch, who seemed to have been studying his -countenance. "Is that with loss of blood, Lorenzo, or the venom of the -sword?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I lost little blood, sire," answered the young man; "but the poison -was very deadly, and required both skill and careful nursing to bring -me through with life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now curses upon the foul heart and foul mind," exclaimed the young -king, "that first conceived so dastardly a wickedness as that of -smearing a good honest sword-blade with a deadly drug."</p> - -<p class="normal">The face of Ludovic the Moor turned somewhat white, and his lip -curled.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your Majesty's curse," he said, "must go somewhat far back, and -somewhat low down; for the art was invented long ago, and the man who -invented it, if he is to be damned at all, is very well damned by this -time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, my curse shall have greater extent, noble sir," replied -the king, frowning; "I will add--and curses be upon every one who uses -such dark treachery."</p> - -<p class="normal">The regent did not reply, but there were very angry feelings in his -heart; and it is probable that nothing but the knowledge that the -dominions over which he ruled, and which he intended should soon be -his own in pure possession, were absolutely at the mercy of the French -king's soldiery, prevented him from seeking vengeance. Indeed, nothing -but fear can account for a man so unscrupulous having endured the -mortifications which Charles inflicted upon him during the French stay -in Lombardy; but it must be remembered that not only were many of his -towns and castles in possession of the French, and others without any -preparation for resistance, but that his own person was every hour -within reach of the French swords, and that, though not quite a -prisoner in his own court, he might become so any moment, if he -excited suspicion or gave offence to the young monarch. He endured in -silence then, and treasured his vengeance for a future day.</p> - -<p class="normal">An unpleasant pause succeeded; and then Charles, turning to Lorenzo, -continued the conversation, saying, "So you think yourself quite ready -to ride. Well, then, join us to-morrow at Pavia, Lorenzo. Methinks no -one, however high his station, will venture to assail you when near -our own person. Yet, as it is evident from what has already happened, -that some one in this land would fain remove you to a better, you -shall have a guard with you, and must not walk the streets of Pavia -unattended. Where is De Vitry? We will give orders for a part of your -troop in his company to join you here to-night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has gone into the villa for a moment, sire," replied Lorenzo, "for -the purpose, I believe, of bidding adieu to the good old count, as I -presume your majesty marches on speedily."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, he will have plenty of time hereafter," said Charles; "I shall -not leave Pavia for some days. I have matters to inquire into; but, in -the mean time, I will give orders for the men to join you to-night; -and methinks a score of French lances will be sufficient to protect -you from any number of Buondonis who may be inclined or hired to -assassinate you."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was an insulting tone of superiority in the young king's voice -and manner, which could not have been very sweet to the Regent -Ludovic, but he seemed still to pay no attention to the monarch's -words, gazing forward on the road without change of countenance, as if -busy with his own thoughts.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! here comes De Vitry," said the young king. "Mount, mount, my lord -marquis. Adieu, my fair cousin Lorenzo. I will give the orders;" and, -thus saying, he rode on.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo saw the train depart and pass away, receiving many a -good-natured greeting from old friends in the king's suite as it filed -off along the road. When he returned to the vestibule of the villa -with a somewhat gloomy heart, he found the old Count of Rovera, with -the two young girl's, still there and apparently in earnest -conversation; but Leonora exclaimed, as soon as she saw him, "When -must you go, Lorenzo?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To-morrow," said the young man sadly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, then you will have plenty of time," exclaimed Blanche Marie, -addressing her beautiful cousin.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To do what?" asked Lorenzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To get ready to go with you," answered Leonora, "if you will be -troubled with such a companion. Here is a letter for you from my -father which will probably explain all. I have had another from him, -telling me to come on with you, and join him at Bologna, if you have a -sufficient train to render our journey secure; but he says there is -little or no danger by the way."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old Count of Rovera shook his head with a disapproving look, -murmuring, "Mighty great danger on the way, I think. On my life, I -believe Ramiro is mad; but I must admonish the youth strictly before -he goes, and take care that she has plenty of women about her."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"See, De Vitry, that a force of twenty lances be sent from -Pavia to -our young cousin ere night," said the king; "that will be enough for -his protection, my lord regent, I presume?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"More than enough, sire," replied Ludovic, somewhat sternly. -"Himself alone, with a few of his own servants, could pass quite -safely--except, indeed, in case of some sudden tumult."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Which tumults are easily raised in this Italy of yours," replied the -young monarch. "It is therefore better he should have a French pennon -with him. Methinks, after our alliance, offensive and defensive, no -one will dare to attack that, my lord regent."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ludovic bit his lip, but then he smiled grimly, saying, "Not unless he -should chance to encounter the forces of our dear cousin Alphonso, -King of Naples, coming to drive the poor Sforzas out of Milan, and -give your majesty some trouble in the plains of Lombardy. They would -not, methinks, show much reverence for a French pennon, nor even for -the banner of France itself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis strange we have no news," said Charles, with a shadow on his -brow; "our last intelligence dates the 14th of last month, and then -the Neapolitan fleet were under full sail."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is possible that Prince Frederick, who commands his brother's -fleet, may have defeated the Duke of Orleans and landed in Tuscany, -sire," observed Ludovic; "in that case we shall hear nothing of the -enemy till we see him. May it not be better for me to summon all my -forces, and march with your majesty till we are assured the roads are -open? I can gather twenty thousand men together, from different -garrisons, in eight days, but I have only four thousand now in Pavia."</p> - -<p class="normal">The king seemed to hesitate; but just then De Vitry, who was riding -half a horse's length behind on the king's right, raised his voice, -saying bluntly, "Better wait decision till we are in the city, my -liege, and then I will tell your majesty why."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Better wait till then, at all events," said the king, thoughtfully; -"but what is your reason, De Vitry?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Simply this, my liege," said the good soldier; "in the grey of the -morning there came in a courier from Bologna. He said he was bound by -his orders to stay in Pavia till your majesty arrived or sent. But he -had letters for you, sire, which he would show to no one; and some -private letters for the camp, which I took from him. They gave no -tidings, however, that I could learn."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did he give no intelligence himself?" asked Ludovic, eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He was mightily cautious of committing himself, Sir Count," answered -De Vitry, drily; "a most discreet and silent messenger, I can assure -you."</p> - -<p class="normal">All parties fell into silence, and rode on for about half a mile at a -slow pace, when the count regent turned to the king, saying, "Here I -will spur on, so please you, sire. I would fain see that all is -rightly prepared to receive you royally. I have been obliged to trust -that care to others hitherto; but I would fain confirm the assurances -given me by my people, by my own eyesight." Charles bowed his head -with a somewhat doubtful look, and Ludovic instantly forced his horse -forward with great speed. Some twenty horsemen drew out from the rest -of the cavalcade and followed him, and Charles turned his head toward -De Vitry with an inquiring look.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let him go, sire--let him go," said De Vitry, in a low voice, -spurring up to the king's side; "he can do no harm. I have cared for -all that. I have so posted our men that he has no more power in Pavia -than an Indian has. Lucky that you sent me on as your quarter-master -some days before; for I had time to fix on all the commanding spots; -and as I passed the army this morning, I gave the leaders -instructions, and furnished them with guides to their several -quarters. But, what is more important still, if your majesty will bend -your ear for a moment, I drew from this courier, upon promise that I -would not deprive him of his largesse, but add something on my own -part, that the good Duke of Orleans, with his little squadron, had -contrived to drive back the whole Neapolitan fleet into Naples. Had he -had galleys enough he would have taken half of them, and, perhaps, -Prince Frederick into the bargain. As it was, he could only take one -galley and sink another. The news is certain, sire; so Signor -Ludovic's cunning scheme of joining his men with yours must fail."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Think you he meant mischief?" asked the young king, whose face had -gradually been lighted up as his gallant officer spoke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He meant to have the power of doing mischief or not as he pleased," -replied De Vitry; "with twenty thousand men, sire, while you had -certain enemies and uncertain friends before you, he might have proved -a dangerous comrade on the march whenever he chose to turn traitor, -which he will do, depend upon it, at the slightest reverse. A man who -can shut up his own nephew and ward, with the poor lad's wife and -child, in the castle of Pavia, and feed them all three upon slow -poison till there is no strength left in any of them, cannot be well -trusted, sire."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Has he done that," exclaimed the young king, with his cheek flushing -and his eyes all in a blaze; "has he done that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have it from the very best authority," replied the other. "I cannot -speak from my own knowledge; for they would not let me into the -castle; but I have been told so by those who know; and if he were not -afraid of letting you see what is going on in that dark old fortress, -why should he not assign you the magnificent rooms, where so many -Lombard kings and Roman emperors have sat, and put the gates in -possession of your troops? The house he has had prepared for your -majesty is fine enough; but it is but a citizen's house, after all; -and, depend upon it, there are things within the walls of the castle -he would not have you see with your own eyes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He shall find himself mistaken," said the young king--"he shall find -himself mistaken. I will see, and that at once. How many men have we -with us now, De Vitry?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Some four hundred, I should guess, sire," replied the officer; "but -there are a thousand more in the little guard-house square at the -gates, ready to escort your majesty to your dwelling."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is right! that is right!" said Charles, with a smile; "let us -put our horses to a quicker pace, good friend. We will be upon the -worthy regent's heels before he expects us."</p> - -<p class="normal">In three-quarters of an hour, Charles and his escort had reached the -gates of Pavia. There was bustle and some disarray among the Lombard -soldiers on guard; for the monarch had appeared before he was -expected; but they hurried forth from the guard-houses to salute him -as he passed, and the French men-at-arms and soldiers in the little -square were up and arrayed in a minute. At the entrance of the street -leading from the Milan gate into the heart of the city--a street which -the reader may well remember, from its gloomy aspect, specially if he -have entered Pavia on a rainy day--a gallant party of horsemen, -dressed in the robes of peace, advanced to meet the King of France, -and, after due salutation, told him they had been sent by the regent -to conduct him to his dwelling.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good! We will follow you speedily," said the monarch; "but there is -one visit we have to pay first, which cannot be omitted. In kingly -courtesy and in kindred kindness we are bound to set foot to the -ground in Pavia, for the first time, at the dwelling of our young -cousin, the Duke Giovan Galeazzo. Lead on to the castle, De Vitry, and -let the whole train follow. We will then accompany these good -gentlemen to the dwelling prepared for us by the regent's kindness."</p> - -<p class="normal">Some consternation was apparent among the retainers of the Count -Ludovic; they spoke together in whispers; but the young king showed no -inclination to wait for the conclusion of their deliberation, and rode -on, guided by De Vitry, merely saying to the Lombard nobles, with a -somewhat stern look, "Gentlemen, we hope for your escort to the -castle."</p> - -<p class="normal">They did not dare to disobey an invitation which was so like a -command; and the whole cavalcade moved onward toward the citadel, with -the exception of one small page, who slunk away at the first corner of -a street they came to, and was no further seen. It was not long ere -the frowning barbican, with its drawbridge and portcullis, appeared -before the royal party; and Charles, turning to the retainers, said, -with a somewhat bitter smile, "Will you request the warders to open -the gates for the King of France, to visit his fair cousin the duke? -We must not summon them ourselves, having so many armed men with us; -for that might seem too peremptory."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a moment of doubt and hesitation, evidently, on the part of -the envoys. The men-at-arms nearest the king, who, with the quick wit -of Frenchmen, seemed to comprehend the whole situation in a moment, -grasped their lances more firmly; and the king's brow began to darken -at finding his orders disobeyed. Upon that moment hung the fate of -Pavia, and perhaps of Lombardy; but it ended by one of the Lombard -nobles riding forward and speaking to the officer at the gates. -Whether he heard or not the sound of horses' feet at a gallop, I -cannot tell, but certain it is that while he seemed to parley with the -soldiers, who were apparently unwilling to open the gates even at his -command, Ludovic the Moor, with two or three attendants, dashed into -the open space before the barbican, and rode quickly to the front. He -had had notice of the young monarch's movements, and his part was -decided in a moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How now, sirrah!" he exclaimed, addressing the soldiers beneath the -gateway in a loud and angry tone, "do you keep the King of France -waiting before the gates like a lackey? Throw open the gates! Down -with the drawbridge! My lord king," he continued, with bated breath, -"I regret exceedingly that these men should have detained you; but -they are faithful fools, and take no orders but from me or my dear -nephew. Had your majesty hinted your intention, orders to admit you -instantly would have been long since given. I proposed to introduce -you to-morrow to the duke, with due ceremony; but you are always -determined to take your servants by surprise."</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles coloured a little, and felt himself rebuked; but when the -regent sprang to the ground and would have held his stirrup, he would -not permit him, taking the arm of De Vitry, and bowing his head -courteously, but without reply. At the gates, De Vitry drew back, -suffering the king and Ludovic to pass on; but they had hardly reached -the second gates, when the archway of the barbican and the drawbridge -were taken possession of by the French soldiers, who began gaily -talking to the Italians, though the latter understood not a word they -said. The Lombard nobles looked sullen and discontented; but they sat -still on their horses, little accustomed to the dashing impudence of -the French, and not knowing well what demeanour to assume toward men -who came as their friends and allies, but who so soon showed that they -considered themselves their masters.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean time, each followed only by a page, the king and the count -regent walked on through several dim passages and lofty, ill-lighted -halls. Few attendants were observed about, and Ludovic took notice of -none of them till he reached a large and apparently more modern -saloon, where an old man, somewhat richly dressed, stood at a door on -the other side. Him he beckoned up, saying, "Tell my dear nephew, -Franconi, that I am bringing his Majesty the King of France to visit -him. This royal lord, considering the duke's ill health, dispenses -with the first visit. Will your majesty take a cup of wine after your -long ride? It will just give the old seneschal time to announce your -coming, lest such an unexpected honour should agitate the poor boy too -much."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank you, my lord, I am not thirsty," answered the king, drily, -"and, for certain reasons given by my physicians, I drink but little -wine."</p> - -<p class="normal">A slight and somewhat mocking smile passed over the hard features of -Ludovic, as if he suspected some fear in the mind of Charles, and -gloried, rather than felt shame, in an evil reputation. Both remained -silent; and in a few minutes the old man returned to usher them into -the presence of the young duke.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh! what a sad sight it was when the seneschal, now joined by two -inferior officers, threw open the door of a chamber at the end of the -adjacent corridor, and displayed to the eyes of Charles the faded form -of Giovan Galeazzo, the young Duke of Milan, stretched upon a -richly-ornamented bed, and covered with a dressing gown of cloth of -gold. The corpse of Inez de Castro seemed only the more ghastly from -the regal garments which decked her mouldering frame; and the -splendour of the apartment, the decoration of the bed, and the -glistening bedgown only gave additional wanness to the face of the -unhappy Duke of Milan. Once pre-eminently handsome, and with features -finely chiselled still, tall and perfectly formed, not yet twenty -years of age, he lay there a living skeleton. His cheek was pale as -ashes; his brow of marble whiteness; the thin but curling locks of jet -black hair falling wildly round his forehead; his lips hardly tinted -with red; and a preternatural light in his dark eyes, which gave more -terrible effect to the deathly pallor of his countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">A sweet, a wonderfully sweet smile played round his mouth when he saw -the young King of France; and he raised himself feebly on his elbow to -greet him as he approached.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Welcome, my most noble lord, the king," he said in a weak voice; -"this is indeed most kind of your majesty to visit your poor cousin, -whom duty would have called to your feet long ago, had not sore -sickness kept him prisoner. But, alas! from this bed I cannot -move--never shall again, I fear."</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles seated himself by the unhappy young man's side, and kindly -took his hand. They were first cousins; their age was nearly the same, -and well might the young monarch's bosom thrill with compassion and -sympathy for the unhappy duke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I grieve," said the king, "to see you so very ill, fair cousin; but I -trust you will be better soon, the heats of summer have probably -exhausted you, and----"</p> - -<p class="normal">Giovan Galeazzo shook his head almost impatiently, and turned a -meaning look upon his uncle.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Has this continued long?" asked the king.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It began with my entrance into this accursed fortress," replied the -youth, "now some two years ago. It has been slow, but very, very -certain. Day by day, hour by hour, it has preyed upon me, till there -is not a sound part left."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He fancies that the air disagrees with him," said Ludovic the Moor, -"but the physicians say it is not so; and we have had so many tumults -and insurrections in the land, that, for his own safety, it is needful -he should make his residence in some strong place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"For my safety!" murmured the unhappy duke; "for my destruction. -Tumults, ay, tumults--would I could strike the instigator of them! -'Tis not alone the air, good uncle; 'tis the water also. 'Tis -everything I eat and drink in this hateful place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The caprice of sickness, believe me, nephew," answered Ludovic, -bending his heavy brows upon him. "You are too ill to have appetite."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but I have thirst enough," replied the young man; "one must eat -and drink, you know, my lord the king. Would it were not so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It often happens, I have heard," said Charles, addressing himself to -the regent, "that what a sick man fancies will cure him, is of a -higher virtue than all medicines--what he believes destructive, will -destroy him. He says, I think, he was quite well till he came here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, how well!" exclaimed the dying prince; "life was then a blessing -indeed, and now a curse. Each breath of air, each pleasant sight or -sound, went thrilling through my veins with the wild revelry of joy. -The song birds and the flowers were full of calm delight, and a -gallop over the breezy hill was like a madness of enjoyment. But -now--now--now---how is it all changed now! Verily, as the wise man -said, 'The song of the grasshopper is a burden.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We must change all this," said Charles, greatly moved; "we must have -you forth from Pavia to some purer air. My own physician shall see -you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The unfortunate young man shook his head, and again turned his eyes -upon his uncle with a meaning look.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is vain, my lord the king," he said, "or rather it is too late. My -sickness has obtained too great a mastery. The subtle enemy has got me -completely in his toils--the sickness I mean; he has got me in every -limb, in every vein; a little more and a little more each day--do you -understand me, sire?--and he will never loose his hold while I have a -breath or a pulsation left. But I have a wife, you know, and a -child--a fine boy--who is to be Duke of Milan. For them I crave your -royal protection. Let them be as your wards--indeed, I will make them -so. If--if," he continued, hesitating, and turning a furtive glance -towards his uncle; "if I could see your majesty alone, I would -communicate my last wishes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall--you shall see me," said Charles, with a gush of feeling -which brought the tears to his eyes. But those feelings were destined -to be still more excited.</p> - -<p class="normal">While he yet spoke there was a noise without, and a woman's voice was -heard speaking in high and excited tones.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I <i>will</i> pass," she said, "who dares to oppose me? I will speak with -the noble King of France; he is my cousin--he will be my protector."</p> - -<p class="normal">The moment after the door burst open, and a beautiful young girl--for -she was no more--entered, and threw herself at Charles's feet. Her -hair had fallen from its bandages, and flowed in beautiful profusion -over her neck and shoulders. Her dress, though rich, was torn, as if -main force had been employed to detain her, and her eyes were full of -the eagerness and fire of a late struggle. Ludovic the Moor turned -pale, and two men, who appeared at the door by which she entered, made -him a gesture of inquiry, as if asking him whether they should tear -her from the king's feet. Ludovic answered not but by a frown; and in -the meantime the princess poured forth her tale and her petitions in a -voice that trembled with anxiety, and hope, and terror.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Protect us, oh, my lord the king," she cried, "protect us! Do not -raise me; I cannot rise, I will not rise, till you have promised to -protect us. Protect us from that man--from that base relative, false -guardian, traitor, subject. Look upon my husband, my lord; see him -lying there withered, feeble, powerless; and yet but two years -ago--oh, how beautiful and strong and active he was! What has done -this? What can have done it but drugs mixed with his daily food? Who -can have done it but he who seeks to open for himself a way to the -ducal seat of Milan? Why is he here confined, a captive in his own -dukedom, in his own city, in his own house? Why is he not suffered to -breathe the free air, to control his own actions, to name his own -officers and servants? Tumults! who instigates the tumults? The people -love their prince--have always loved him; cheers and applause went -wherever he trod; he passed fearlessly among them as among his -brethren, till his kind uncle there, in his tender care for his -safety, first stirred up a tumult by one of his own edicts, and then -shut his sovereign up in a prison in everything but name. Deliver us, -my lord king, from this captivity! Have compassion upon my lord, have -compassion upon me, have compassion upon our poor helpless child! If -ever your noble heart has burned at a tale of long and unredressed -wrong--if ever it has melted at a story of unmerited suffering--if -ever your eyes have overflowed at the thought of cruelty shown to a -woman and a child--as you are mighty, as you are noble, as you are a -Christian, deliver us from the heavy yoke we bear! As king, as -Christian, as knight, deliver us!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will--I will," answered Charles, raising her and seating her by -him; "by every title you have given me, you have a right to demand my -aid, and I am bound to give it. My good cousin the count, this must be -seen to at once. I will tarry in Pavia for the purpose of inquiring -into these matters, and seeing them rightly regulated before I go -hence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As your majesty pleases," answered Ludovic, bowing his head with a -look of humility. "You will find, upon full inquiry, that I have acted -for my nephew's best interests. The lady, poor thing, is somewhat -prejudiced, if not distraught; but all these matters can be made -perfectly clear when you have time to listen."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young duke gave him a look of disdain, and she answered, "Ay, -perfectly clear, count, if the king will but hear both parties."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will, dear lady, doubt it not," answered Charles, tenderly. "Be -comforted. No time shall be lost. My cousin here shall be removed to a -purer air; my own physician shall visit him. Be comforted."</p> - -<p class="normal">A smile--the first smile of hope that had visited her lip for many a -day--came upon the poor girl's face. "Thank you--oh, thank you, sire," -she said.</p> - -<p class="normal">Well had she stopped there! But she was very young, had no experience -of the omnipotence of selfishness with man. Her fate had been a very -sad one. She never sang to her child but with tears; and yet all had -not taught her that oceans of blood would not bar man from an object -of great desire.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot be comforted, my lord," she answered, "notwithstanding all -your generous promises--nay, notwithstanding even their fulfilment, -while my poor father, against whom your mighty power is bent--I speak -of Alphonso, King of Naples--is in such a case of peril."</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles's brow darkened; the compassionate look passed away; but still -the unhappy girl went on, crushing out in the bosom of the young king -the spark of pity which her melancholy situation had lighted. "My poor -father, my lord," she continued, "has done nothing to call down your -indignation upon him. Let me entreat your mercy on him; let me beseech -you to pause and consider ere you ruin a man--a king who has never -injured you--nay, who is ready to submit to any terms you are pleased -to dictate. Oh, my noble lord, hear me; let me plead not only for my -husband and myself, and my child, but for my father and my brother -also."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ludovic the Moor, one of the most subtle readers of the human heart -that the world has ever produced, heard her first reference to her -father with delight; and his eyes were instantly turned towards the -young king's face. He traced but too easily the change of feelings -going on. He saw the first spark of irritation produced by the -unwelcome topic: he saw her gradually fanning it into a flame by her -efforts to change the settled and selfish purpose of the king. He saw -the struggle between the sense of justice and a favourite scheme; he -saw the anger which a consciousness of wrong, together with a -resolution to persevere in wrong invariably produces, growing up in -Charles's bosom; and he let her go on without a word, till he -perceived that the effect was complete. Then suddenly interposing, he -said, "May it please your majesty, such exciting scenes are too much -for the feeble health of my poor nephew; I must care for it, if this -lady does not. You have heard all she has to say, and if you will mark -the duke's countenance, you will perceive, from the change which has -taken place, that further discussion now would be dangerous if not -fatal. I will therefore beseech your majesty to give this matter -further consideration at a future day, and to visit the poor dwelling -I have prepared for you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The king rose; and the poor duchess, perceiving too late the error she -had committed, bent down her head upon her hands and wept. Charles -took a kindly leave of the young duke, removing the further -consideration of his case to that "more convenient season" which never -comes, and merely saying to the poor helpless girl, who had pleaded -for her father as well as for her husband, "Be comforted, madam. We -will see to your protection and future fate."</p> - -<p class="normal">She raised not her eyes, but shook her head sadly, and the king -departed. We all know that when we are dissatisfied with ourselves we -are dissatisfied with others; and the young King of France felt as if -the duchess had injured him in seeking a justice that he would not -grant.</p> - -<p class="normal">He walked hastily onward, then, somewhat in advance of the count -regent. Ludovic followed more slowly, with a slight smile upon his -countenance; and the door closed upon the young Duke of Milan and his -fate for ever.</p> - -<p class="normal">Through the long corridor, into the great reception-room, and across -it, sped the King of France, displeased with himself and every one. -The door was held open by the seneschal till Ludovic had passed it; -but the Moor lingered a moment upon the threshold, gave a quick glance -around, and whispered in the ear of the seneschal, "Give him a double -portion in his wine tonight. We must have no more conferences." Then -following the monarch, with a thoughtful look, he aided him to mount -his horse, and took his place by his side. Rumours spread through the -City of Pavia on the following day that Giovan Galeazzo was in a dying -state, and Ludovic confirmed them to the King of France, saying, "I -feared the excitement would be too much for his weakened frame."</p> - -<p class="normal">That night, in the midst of a joyous banquet, the heavy bell of the -great church was heard tolling slowly, announcing that another Duke of -Milan had gone to his tomb.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">All was bustle and the hurry of preparation in the Villa -Rovera. -Leonora's two young maids had as much trouble in packing up her -wardrobe as a modern lady's maid in arranging her bridal wardrobe, -though, be it said, if a lady's apparel in those days was richer, it -was not quite so multitudinous as the wardrobe of a modern lady. But -these two young maids were not destined to be her only attendants; for -the old count, thinking, as he had expressed it, that the Signor -Ramiro d'Orco must be mad to entrust the escort of his lovely daughter -to so young a cavalier as Lorenzo Visconti, had engaged a respectable -and elderly lady, who had served for many years in his own household, -to give dignity and gravity to the train of his young relation.</p> - -<p class="normal">Many and particular were the instructions which he gave in private -conclave to the ancient Signora Mariana; and faithfully did she -promise to obey all his injunctions, and keep up the utmost decorum -and propriety of demeanour by the way.</p> - -<p class="normal">But alas! there is no faith to be put in old women, especially those -of the grade and condition of life which was filled by Mariana. They -are all at heart duennas, and, strange to say, generally, however hard -and cold their exteriors, feel a sympathy with the tenderness and -warmth of youth. The old lady smiled as she left the old man; and -perhaps she judged rightly that thus to restrain the actions and keep -close supervision on the conduct of a young lady and a young lord upon -a long journey through a distracted country was a task so much above -her powers that it would be better not to attempt it. "I shall have -enough to do to take care of my old bones upon a rough trotting horse -during the day, and to rest them during the night, without minding -other people's affairs," she said. "Besides, the Signor Lorenzo is a -nice, honourable young man, and would do nothing that is wrong, I am -sure; and the signora is quite discreet, and moreover, proud, which is -better."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora and Lorenzo were full of joy and anticipation. Perhaps never -in history was a long journey over rough roads, through a wild -country, with the prospect of but poor accommodation anywhere but in -the large cities, contemplated with so much wild joy. Fancy was like a -bird escaped from its cage, and it soared over the future on expanded -wings--soared high and sang.</p> - -<p class="normal">Every now and then, it is true, a feeling of she knew not what awe or -dread came over Leonora's heart--a sensation as if of some danger--a -fear of the very wideness of her range, of her perfect freedom from -all control--a consciousness that she was a woman and was weak, and -very much in love. But it soon passed away when she thought of -Lorenzo's high and chivalrous spirit; and then she gave herself up to -hope and joy again.</p> - -<p class="normal">Poor Blanche Marie was the only one to be pitied, and she was very -sad. Even the thought that she was loved--that the timid dream of her -youth's dawning twilight was already verified, could not console her. -She was losing her loved companion, her bright cousin, and her lover -all at once. For the loss of the two first, indeed, she had in some -degree to blame herself; for, with girlish enthusiasm, she had -resolved, from the moment she heard that Lorenzo was about to return -to Italy, that he should fall in love with Leonora, and she rejoiced -that all had gone according to her plans, but she would rather have -had them remain at the Villa Rovera, and make love there beside her. -Then, as to De Vitry, she would not have withheld him from the field -of fame for the world; but she would rather have had the lists where -glory was to be gained, at the back of the garden than far away at the -end of Italy. Sometimes she asked herself if she really loved him--if -she were not too young to know what love was; but then the pain she -felt at the thought of his leaving her for months, perhaps for years, -convinced her little heart that there was something in it which had -never been there before.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus waned the day of the king's halt at the villa gates, and the -morning came, when Lorenzo and his train, now amounting to twenty -lances and some forty inferior soldiers, were to depart. Besides -these, however, were Leonora's servants, male and female, Lorenzo's -personal attendants, horses and mules and pannieris, and a -baggage-wagon, with six silver-grey oxen to draw it. Moreover, with -the baggage-wagon were six foot soldiers, armed with hand-guns, then a -new invention, for the manufacture of which, as I think I have -mentioned before, Milan had become famous. It made altogether a grand -cavalcade, occupying so much of the road while the party waited for -their young leader and the fair lady he was to escort, that the -peasant carts could hardly get past on their way to supply the market -of Pavia with all the luxuries which the King of France's arrival in -the city had brought into demand.</p> - -<p class="normal">Much and sage advice had to be given by the old Count of Rovera both -to Lorenzo and Leonora; and long was their leave-taking with poor -Blanche Marie; but, in some sort it was fortunate it was so; for, -before all was over, the Seigneur de Vitry appeared among them, -exclaiming, in his usually gay tone, though there was a certain degree -of shadow on his brow, "To horse! to horse, Visconti! You are to have -a longer march than you contemplated. It has been decided by the king -that seven miles is too short a ride for a young cavalier like you; -and you are to march straight by Pavia, and act as an advance party on -the way to Naples."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But where am I to halt?" asked the young cavalier; "remember, Signeur -de Vitry, that it is long since I quitted this land, and I know not -the distances."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All that is arranged," answered De Vitry--"arranged upon the very -best judgment and authority, that of a man who knows not the worthy -count regent, but who knows the country well. At Belgiojoso, just -seven miles beyond Pavia, you will find the route-card, as far as -Bologna, with every day's march laid down, in the hands of the king's -harbinger, old St. Pierre, who goes with you, with twenty lances more, -to mark out the royal quarters. But, remember, you command the whole -party, and the king relies upon your fidelity and discretion. From -each station you will march forward at eight in the morning, unless -contrary orders from the court reach you earlier. If you should obtain -information of any hostile movements in the front, you will send back -intelligence, unless you meet with an enemy, in which case you will -fall back upon the van."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Without fighting?" asked Lorenzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, methinks," said De Vitry, with a gay glance at Leonora, "that, -considering that you have some non-combatants of your party, the less -you fight the better till they are safely bestowed in the rear. But -you must use your own discretion in that matter. It would not do to -see a French pennon retreat before a handful. But you must be -careful."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will, depend upon it, on the signora's account," answered Lorenzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis a good guarantee," said De Vitry; "but does the king know she -goes with you?--Well, well, do not colour and look perplexed; I will -arrange all that for you, only you must tell me what tale I am to -relate to his majesty. Am I to say aught about hasty marriages and a -Signora Visconti? or that the days of knight errantry have been fully -revived by you and De Terrail, and that you are escorting a distressed -demoiselle to a place of safety?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Though Leonora blushed deeply, Bianca Maria laughed gaily. "Why, you -might have heard all about it yesterday, my lord," she said, "had you -waited till Leonora opened her letter from her father, or till Lorenzo -came back. It is by his command she goes--at his request my cousin -escorts her. But you were in such a hurry to leave us, you would stay -for nothing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I stayed till I had got all I wanted for the time," replied the good -soldier, "though I may want more by and by."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was now Marie's turn to blush; but Lorenzo came to her aid, saying, -"I had hoped to ask the king's permission to-day at Pavia. I could not -ask it yesterday, for his majesty was gone ere I received Signor -Ramiro's letter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, let it pass," said De Vitry. "I give leave for the present, and -the king will not call the lady back when you are forward on the -march, I think."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, Seigneur de Vitry," said Leonora, "I fear truly we shall lose -our way, for neither Lorenzo nor I know a step beyond Pavia, and all -these soldiers are French I imagine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have you not the renowned Antonio with you?" said De Vitry, gaily; -"trust to him--trust to him; but never doubt him or ask if he is sure -of the road, or he will let you run into a broken bridge and a swollen -river. But get you to horse as speedily as may be. Where is my lord -the count?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am going to take leave of him," said Leonora, "and will show you -the way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"One moment, my lord," said Lorenzo, leading his commander a little -aside; "tell me, I beg, why I am not suffered to halt in Pavia. There -must be something more than you have said."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I believe it is simply this," answered De Vitry, after a -moment's thought; "the good count regent is making a new road to -Milan. He has already prepared to remove all the big rocks in the way; -and the king thinks, and I think too, that he might judge it expedient -to sweep away even the pebbles. The name of Visconti is not pleasant -to him, Lorenzo--there are many druggists' shops in Pavia: so ask no -more questions, my good friend, but mount and away. God speed you on -your march and in your love. Well for you that you took the dark-eyed -cousin. If you had chosen the other I would have cut your throat."</p> - -<p class="normal">No need to pause longer on the parting; no need to follow them on that -day's march, for it was without incident. It seemed very short too, to -the young lovers, although the distance was greater than had been -expected--all distances are. The seven miles from the villa to Pavia -and the seven miles from Pavia to Belgiojoso stretched themselves into -full sixteen miles, which is contrary to all rules of arithmetic, but -still it is an invariable result. The day was charming. It was like -youth: it might have been too warm but for certain clouds which -shadowed the sky from time to time, and tempered the ardour of the -sun. The heavy-armed horses suffered a little: but at length the -pretty village--for it deserved not the name of town--which has since -given a famous name to a beautiful, high-spirited, but unfortunate -lady, appeared before them about four o'clock in the afternoon. Old -St. Pierre, the king's harbinger, had been there for some hours with -his twenty lances; the quarters were all marked out, and everything -prepared.</p> - -<p class="normal">"As the king must occupy his own lodging first, my lord," he said, "I -cannot give you the best inn; but here is a very pretty little place -at the edge of the village, where they seem good people, and I -reserved that for you. I did not expect, indeed, so many ladies," he -continued, looking towards Leonora and her maids, "but I dare say they -can all be accommodated. Come and see."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo rode on, with the old gentleman, who was on foot, walking by -the side of his horse and talking all the time. The little inn to -which he led them is, I dare say, there still. It certainly was so -some twenty years ago--much changed, doubtless, from what it was then, -but still with somewhat of the antique about it. There were vines over -both sides of the house, and the rooms to the back looked over the -gardens, and small, richly cultivated fields that surrounded the -place. The leaves of the vines were turning somewhat yellow, and many -a cluster had been already plucked from the bough; but Leonora -pronounced it charming, and Lorenzo thought so too. Happy had they -both been if Fate had never placed them in higher abodes. Oh, those -pinnacles; they are dangerous resting-places.</p> - -<p class="normal">Let us pass over an hour or two. The men had been dispersed to their -quarters and the proper guard set; a light meal had been taken, and -the country wine tasted; the maids had found lodging, and were amusing -themselves in various ways, with which neither the writer nor the -reader has aught to do; Signora Mariana, like a discreet dame, was -dosing in an upper chamber, and Lorenzo and Leonora were seated -together in the little saloon at the back of the house, with the -foliage trailing over the window and its verandah, and a small but -neat garden stretching out down a little slope. They were alone -together; the dream was realised; and what if they gave way to young, -passionate love as far as honour and virtue permitted. His arm was -round her; the first kiss had been given and repeated; the beautiful -head rested on his bosom, and heart had been poured into heart in the -words which only passion can dictate and youth supply. Ah! they were -very beautiful and very happy! and the attitude into which they had -cast themselves was such as painters might copy, but not the most -graceful fancy could imagine. It was full of love, and confidence, and -nature.</p> - -<p class="normal">As they sat, they were somewhat startled for a moment by the sound of -a lute played apparently in the garden; but it was not very near, and -the tones were so rich and full, the skill of the player so exquisite, -that instead of alarming the timidity of young love, they only added -to "the loving languor which is not repose" which before possessed -them.</p> - -<p class="normal">After listening for a moment, and gazing forth through the open -window, they resumed their previous attitude, and continued their -conversation.</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora's beautiful head again lay on Lorenzo's bosom, with her look -turned upward to his face, while he gazed down into her eyes--those -wells of living light--with his head bowed over her, as if the next -moment his lips would stoop for a kiss: and now and then a grave -earnest look would come upon their faces, while the words came -sometimes thick and fast, sometimes ceased altogether, in the -intensity of happiness and feeling.</p> - -<p class="normal">What made Lorenzo look suddenly up at the end of about a quarter of an -hour, he himself could not tell; but the moment he turned his eyes to -the window he started and laid his hand upon his sword. But then a -voice of extraordinary melody exclaimed, "Do not move! for Heaven's -sake, do not move! Alas! you have lost it; you can never assume that -pose again; but, thank Heaven, I can remember it, with what I have -already done."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man who spoke was a remarkably handsome man of about forty-four or -five years of age, with a countenance of wonderful sweetness. He was -dressed in a black velvet coat, with a small cap of the same material -on his head, and a little feather in it. His seat was a large stone -in the garden just before the window, and on his knee rested a -curious-looking instrument, which seemed the model of a horse's head -cut in silver and ivory. Upon it was stretched a small scrap of paper, -on which he still went on, tracing something with a pencil.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This, sir, is hardly right," said Lorenzo, advancing to a door -leading direct into the garden, which, like the window, was wide open. -"You intrude upon our privacy somewhat boldly;" but the next instant -he exclaimed, in a voice of delight, as he gazed over their strange -visitor's shoulder, "Good heaven! how beautiful! Leonora! Leonora! -Come hither and see yourself depicted better than Venetian mirror ever -reflected that loved face and form."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And you too, Lorenzo! and you too!" exclaimed Leonora. "Oh! it is -perfect!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The artist looked up and smiled with one of those beaming smiles which -seem to find their way direct to the heart, as if an angel looked into -it. "It is like you both," he said; "but it was the attitude I sought, -and you started up before I had completed the sketch. Yet I can -remember it. My mind, from long habit, is like a note-book, in which -every beautiful thing I behold is written down as soon as seen. Look -how I will add in a moment all that is wanting," and he proceeded with -rapid pencil to add the arm of Lorenzo cast round Leonora's waist, and -her arm resting on her lap, with her hand clasped in her lover's.</p> - -<p class="normal">The colour came in the beautiful girl's cheek, but without remarking -it the artist said:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Was it not so?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Even so, I fear," murmured Leonora.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must let me have this drawing," said Lorenzo; "you can put no -higher value on it than I will be right glad to pay. It will be to me -a memorial of one of the happiest days of my life, and of her I love -better than life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I would not part with it for any payment," said the other; "but, -having done as you said just now--intruded on your privacy--I will pay -for the intrusion by sketching for each of you, the portrait of the -other, and that without price. But let us come into the saloon, and -call for lights; it is getting somewhat dark. Will you, young -gentleman, take my lute, while I put up the sketch and my pencils."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is this then a lute?" asked Lorenzo, taking the horse's head in ivory -and silver. "Oh! I see; here is a finger-board, and the strings are -fastened to the lower jaw. I never saw a lute like this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Probably not," the other answered; "it is my own design and -workmanship."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then was it you whom we heard playing, just now?" asked Leonora. "The -music was divine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It might be so," answered the artist gaily, "for Cupid was very -near--though I knew not of the god's neighbourhood--and it is the -nature of all godlike beings to cast their influence far around them, -and raise common things toward divinity. He is a mighty deity that -Cupid, and, when worshipped purely, has precious gifts for the sons of -men. You two are very young," he continued, thoughtfully, "and -doubtless noble."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We are young," answered Lorenzo, "and noble as far as blood is -concerned. Noble in a better sense I trust we are likewise. Here is -one, at least, who is, and what may be wanting in myself my love for -her shall give."</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis one of the precious gifts I talked of," answered the artist, -moving to the house, and entering the little saloon; "a high and pure -love ennobles him who feels it; and well, young gentleman, have you -distinguished between two nobilities. Yet, constituted as this world -is--nay, not only as this world, but as man himself is--there must -always be a factitious nobility, which, in the eyes of the world, will -rise above the other. The notion of anything like equality ever -existing among men is a dream of human vanity, contrary to all -experience, and to the manifest will of God. The only reason why men -ever entertained it is that the lower intellects feel their -selfishness wounded at acknowledging they are inferior. Now, as the -lower intellects predominate immensely in point of numbers, and all -their vanities combine to pull down those superior to their own level, -you will always find democratic republics attempted in those countries -where there is no great predominance of intellect in any, or that -predominance is confined to a very few. If there be one intellect -vastly superior to any others, the constitution of the state will soon -become a monarchy; if there be more than one or two greatly above the -rest, you will have an aristocracy, and the natural order, as far as I -have seen in the world, will be the monarch representing the highest -intellect and most powerful will; an aristocracy representing those -next in mental powers; and below them the plebeians, representing the -great mass of stupidity and ignorance which exist in this world--the -weak, the vicious, the thoughtless, the idle, the brutal, the -barbarous. Granted that these several classes will not long justly -represent the reality; but still the order is the natural order, and -men strive against it in vain. We have seen these democratic republics -tried over and over again in this our Italy, producing misery and -disorder during their existence, and all tending to the same -consummation."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how is equality among men contrary to the will of God!" asked -Lorenzo; "the incarnate Son of God himself seems to have preached such -a doctrine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I humbly think you are mistaken," answered the artist. "On the -contrary, he always inculcated submission to our superiors. But you -ask how is it contrary to the manifest will of God? I reply, not only -by the difference of mere worldly advantages which he has bestowed -upon various men, for that might depend upon a false and mistaken -scheme of society, but by the difference of mental and spiritual -powers which he himself has ordained and bestowed, without any -intervention of man or of man's will. Take one of the many idiots, or -half idiots, who sit upon the steps of St. John at Rome, and place him -by the side of the late Lorenzo de Medici. Take them as mere infants, -and try to educate them alike nay, give the highest culture to the -idiot, the lowest to Lorenzo, what would be the result? The one would -tower above the other with his gigantic mind, the other would remain -an intellectual pigmy; the one would be a prince of thought, the other -a plebeian. Here is an inequality decreed by God himself; and although -I have taken an extreme case, you will find the same rule pervade all -minds and all natures. No man has the same capabilities. Every gift is -unequally apportioned; and the same Almighty Being who gives to one -man wealth and to another poverty, to one man the stature of a hero, -to another the height of a dwarf, has decreed that inequality of -station against which the vanity of multitudes struggles in vain. I -myself am a plebeian, you are nobles, yet I would not alter the order -of society if I could. But let us change the topic; or, while this -sweet half light still lingers in the west, I will play upon my -favourite lute again, and let you hear some verses which flow somewhat -with the current of our thoughts."</p> - -<p class="normal">For a moment he leaned his cheek against the instrument, struck a few -chords, put the strings in perfect tune, and then, with the skill of a -great musician, drew forth harmonies such as were seldom heard in -those days. A minute or two after, his voice, far sweeter than any -sounds which could be brought from the lute, joined in, and he sang -some irregular verses, which he seemed to improvise.</p> -<pre> - SONG. - - "Let him who cannot what he will, - Will only what he can. - 'Tis surely Folly's plan, - By willing more, to compass his own will. - Then wise the man who can himself retrain - To will within his power; he ne'er shall will in vain. - - "Yet many a joy and many woe, - From knowing or not knowing what to will, - In sweet and bitter drops distil, - For from ourselves our fate does mostly flow. - Fair skies to him who steers his bark aright, - And keeps the pole-star--duty--ever in his sight. - - "He who takes all, is rarely blessed; - The sweetest things turn soonest sour, - When we abuse our power. - Oft have I wept for joys too soon possessed. - What lessons, then, from these light verses flow? - That which we ought to do, and what we ought to know." - -</pre> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Bring lights," said Lorenzo to a girl who appeared as the -song -concluded; and he sighed as if some sweet dream had been broken and -passed away. "Oh! music--music such as that is indeed divine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," answered the singer "music is divine and so is poetry--so -sculpture, painting, architecture. Every art, every science that -raises man from his primitive brutality has a portion of divinity -about it; for it elevates toward the Creator. Christ has said, 'Be ye -perfect, even as your Father which is in Heaven is perfect;' and -though we cannot reach perfection, we may strain for it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nor, as some have supposed, do the arts render effeminate. They may -soften the manners, as the old Roman says, but not the character. On -the contrary, all that tends to exercise tends to strengthen. It is -idleness, it is luxury which enfeebles. Athens in her highest pride of -art was in her highest pride of power, and her artists learned by the -pencil or the chisel to put on the buckler and to grasp the sword. And -what does the combination of art and science do? What has it done, and -what will it not do?"</p> - -<p class="normal">He gazed up for a moment like one inspired, and then added, "God -knows, for in extent and majesty the results are beyond even our -dreams. But I ever see the times afar when the yet undeveloped powers -of man and nature shall work miracles--when mountains shall be moved -or forced from side to side to smooth the path of our race, and bring -nation closer to nation--when the very elements shall become -subservient to the will of man, and when the energies of his nature, -directed by science, shall no longer be squandered in war and -bloodshed, but shall render war impossible, and bloodshed, under -whatever name, a crime.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh peace, how beautiful art thou! Oh goodness, how wide and -comprehensive ought to be thy reign! Angel of love, thou art the -seraphim nearest to the throne of God! So help me Heaven, I would not -kill the smallest bird that flutters from spray to spray, nor tread -upon a beetle in my path!"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was something so exquisitely sweet in his voice, so sublime in -his look, so marvellously graceful in his manner, that the two young -lovers, while they gazed and listened, could almost have fancied him -the angel of love whom he apostrophized. They sat silent when he -paused, listening eagerly for more; but when he began to speak again, -all was changed except that captivating power which seemed to command -the assent or overrule the judgment of all who heard him. His mood was -now changed, and nothing could be more light and playful than his -talk, till the door was opened and another mood came over him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, Catarina," he said to the girl who tardily brought in the lights, -"if the world waits upon you for illumination, we shall have another -dark age upon us. Now see what it is: this little candle in a moment -brings out of obscurity a thousand things which would not be discerned -before. Thus it is in this world, Catarina; we grope our twilight way -among things unseen till comes some light of science, and we find -ourselves surrounded by multitudes of beautiful things we could not -before discern. Do you understand me, Catarina?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, signor," answered the girl, opening her great black eyes, "but I -love to hear you speak, even when I know not what you are speaking -of."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How can she understand such things?" asked Leonora. "Probably she has -never been out of the village."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And she is wise not to go," answered the stranger. "What would she -gain by going, to what she might lose? Do you love the cultivation of -flowers, sweet lady? If so, you will know that there be some which -love the shade and will not bear transplanting. That poor girl, right -happy here, with youth, and health, and a sufficiency of all things, -might be very miserable in a wider scene. Oh no, God's will is best. -We should never pray for anything but grace and peace, I cannot but -think that prayers--importunate, short-sighted prayers--are sometimes -granted in chastisement. There is one eye alone which sees the -consequence; of all things. There may be poison in a cup of nectar; -but you cannot so well conceal the venom in a draught of pure water -from the well. Let the poor girl stay here. Now sit you still, and I -will draw you both, one for the other; but talk at will; I would not -have you dull and silent. Any bungler can draw the body. I want to -sketch the spirit likewise. Eyes, nose, and mouth are easily drawn; -the heart and the soul require a better pencil. Ay, now you are -smiling again. You were all too grave just now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But your discourse has been very serious," replied Lorenzo. "Some -things might well puzzle, some sadden us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis well," said the artist gravely, "to prompt thought, and I sought -to do it. You two were dreaming when first I saw you. I have but -awakened you. I know not your names nor your history; but you are both -very young; and when the Jove-born goddess took on bodily the part of -Mentor, she knew that youth and inexperience require an almost -superhuman monitor. I can give no such counsels, but every man can -bring a little cool water where he sees a fire. Ah! lady, would I had -my colours here to catch that rosy blush before it flies."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fie! fie!" she answered, "or you will make me fly also. You cannot -suppose that either Lorenzo or I would wish or do aught that is wrong. -Your admonitions were cast away upon us, for we needed them not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God knows," said the artist, laughing, "but neither you nor I, young -lady. Your speech is not Florentine, but his is: how comes that? Is he -carrying home a bride?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The difference of our speech is soon explained," said Lorenzo, -"though we are both of the same land. But she has ever lived in -Lombardy. I have travelled far and wide, but my youth was all spent in -Florence. I came there when I was very young, and remained till the -death of Lorenzo de Medici, whose godson I am."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then you are Lorenzo Visconti," said the artist; "but who is this?" -and he pointed toward Leonora with the end of his pencil.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You divine," answered the young man without noticing his question; -"are you skilled in the black art among all your other learning, -signor?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am really skilled in very little," replied their companion. "In a -life neither very long nor very short, but one of much labour and much -study, I have never produced one work--nay, done one thing with which -I was wholly satisfied. The man who places his estimate of excellence -very high may surpass his contemporaries, and yet fall far short of -his own conceptions. Hereafter men may speak of me well or ill, as -they please. If ill, their censure will not hurt me: if well, their -faintest applause will go beyond my own. As to the black art, Signor -Lorenzo, the blackest arts are not those of the magician; yet many -things seem magical which are very simple. Lorenzo de Medici had but -one Lombard godson; and I remember you well, now, when you were a -little boy in Florence. The only marvel is that I ever forgot you. But -you have not introduced me to this lady."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I know not whom to introduce," answered the young man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! you have entangled me in my own net," said the artist. "Well it -is right you should both know who it is gives counsels unsought, and -teaches lessons perhaps unneeded. A good many years ago there lived in -Florence a poor gentleman named Ser Pietro da Vinci. His means were -small, but he had great capacity, though he turned it to but little -account. His taste for art was great, however, and he frequented the -houses of the best painters and sculptors in Italy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, he had a son, a wild, fitful boy, who studied everything, -attempted much, and perfected little. He plunged into arithmetic, -mathematics, geometry, and used to find a good deal of fun in puzzling -his masters with hard questions. Again, he would work untaught in -clay, and make heads of children and of laughing women; and again he -would sing his own rude verses to the lute, or sketch the figures and -faces of all who came near him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This was all when he was very young--a mere boy, indeed; but among -his father's friends was the well-known Andrea Verrocchio, the great -painter; and in his bottega was soon found the boy, studying hard, and -only now and then giving way to his wild moods by darting away from -his painting, sometimes to some sister art, sometimes to something -directly opposite. He drew plans for houses, churches, fortresses; he -devised instruments of war, projected canals, laid out new roads, sung -to his lute, danced at the village festivals, studied medicine and -anatomy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But his fancies and designs went beyond the common notions of the -day; men treated them as whims impossible of execution, projects -beyond the strength of man to complete. His drawings, and his -paintings, and his sculpture, however, they admired, patted him on the -head, and called him the young genius.</p> - -<p class="normal">"At length he was set to paint part of a picture which his master had -commenced, and the result was that Verrocchio threw away his pallet, -declaring he would never paint more, as he had been excelled by a boy. -That boy went on to win money and fame till people began to call him -Maestro, and the wild little boy became Maestro Leonardo da Vinci, -who, some say, is a great painter. By that name, Signor Lorenzo, you -may introduce me to the lady, for my sketches are now finished."</p> - -<p class="normal">The love for art in Italy at that time approached adoration: the name -of Leonardo da Vinci was famous from the foot of the Alps to the -Straits of Messina, and Leonora took the great painter's hand and -kissed it with as much veneration as if he had been her patron saint.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! and so this is the fair Signora d'Orco?" said Leonardo. "Now I -understand it all. You are travelling to join your father. I met with -him at Bologna as I passed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How, long ago was that, Maestro Leonardo?" asked Leonora, with some -surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was some days since," replied the painter, "and he must be in Rome -by this time."</p> - -<p class="normal">The lovers looked inquiringly into each other's faces, and after a -moment's thought, Lorenzo said:</p> - -<p class="normal">"We expected to overtake him at Bologna. His letters led us to believe -we should find him there; but doubtless he has left directions for our -guidance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps so," replied Leonardo, in a somewhat sombre and doubtful -tone; "but, if you do not find such directions, what will you do?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We can but go on, I suppose," answered Leonora; "Lorenzo must march -with the French army, which directs its course to Rome, and I cannot -be left without some one to protect me."</p> - -<p class="normal">The painter shook his head gravely.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Far better, my child," he said, "that you should remain in Bologna. -The ways are dangerous; Rome is no fit place for you. Besides, your -father has gone thither, I am told, on affairs of much importance, and -you would be but a burden to him. He goes, they told me, to hold a -conference with Cardinal Cæsar Borgia, who seeks a man of great skill -and resolution to hold in check the somewhat turbulent and -discontented inhabitants of the territories in Romagna, bestowed upon -him by his father, Pope Alexander. Go not after him to Rome, but by -his express desire. I will give you a letter to the Abbess Manzuoli, -in Bologna, who will be a mother to you for the time you have to -stay."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All must be decided by my father's will," replied Leonora; "but I -thank you much, Signor da Vinci, for the promised letter, which cannot -but be of service to me in case of need."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then," replied the great painter, changing his tone, "come -round here, and look over my shoulder. Here are the two portraits. -'Did you ever see two uglier people? Is he not frightful, Signora -Leonora? and as to her face and figure, they are, of course, hideous, -Lorenzo."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora took the rapid sketch, which represented Lorenzo with a drawn -sword in one hand and a banner in the other, looking up to a cloudy -sky, through which broke a brighter gleam of light, gazed at it a -moment with what may well be called ecstasy, and then placed it in the -scarf which covered her bosom, while he pressed his lips upon the -other paper in silent delight.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You need not do that, Lorenzo," said the painter, with a quiet smile; -"your lips will soil my picture--my picture will soil your lips. There -are others near where the paint will not come off, for they are limned -by a hand divine. But are you both satisfied?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes," exclaimed Leonora, joyfully; but Lorenzo answered at once, -"No, unless you will promise me, Signor da Vinci, to paint me a -portrait of her, as you can only paint, I cannot be satisfied."</p> - -<p class="normal">"When she is your wife," answered Leonardo, "you have but to write to -me that Mona Leonora Visconti will sit, and be I at the distance of -two hundred leagues, I will come. But now, I will hie me to the little -chamber they have given me, and write the letter I spoke of, and then -return. Perchance the lady may have retired ere then, but I shall find -you here, Lorenzo. Is it not so?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly," replied the young man; "I have to visit the guards, and -see that all is rightly disposed in the town; but I will not go till -you return."</p> - -<p class="normal">I will not follow the indiscreet example of Leonardo, and try to -sketch them as they sat alone after his departure. Indeed, it were not -an easy task. They were very happy, and happiness is like the -chameleon, ever changing its hues. An hour and a half, or a moment; -for such it seemed to them, had passed when old Mona Mariana, on whose -discreet and reasonable forbearance be a benediction, put her head -into the room, and said, in a sleepy tone:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is it not time for rest, dear lady?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You seem to think so Mariana, for you are half asleep already."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, young hearts! young hearts!" said the old lady, who had slept for -several hours; "they have thoughts enough to keep them waking, and -strength to bear it. Old people have only to pray and sleep. But, -indeed, you had better come to rest; we have all to rise betimes."</p> - -<p class="normal">After a word or two more, Leonora parted from her lover, and soon -seeking her bed, lay down and dreamed, but not asleep.</p> - -<p class="normal">As if the painter had heard her light foot on the stairs, she had not -been gone a minute when Leonardo appeared. He took Lorenzo's hand -eagerly in his, and said, in a low, earnest tone:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let her not go to Rome, I beseech you, young gentleman--let her not -go to Rome."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And why are you so eager she should not go there?" asked Lorenzo, -somewhat surprised, and even alarmed by his new friend's manner. "Is -there any danger?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Every danger," answered Da Vinci.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"For a thousand reasons, but they are difficult to explain. Yet stay; -I remember rapping a fellow student's knuckles to prevent his putting -his profane hand on a bunch of beautiful grapes, all covered with -their vineyard bloom, when I was about to paint them. This young -lovely girl--this Signora d'Orco, is like one of those grapes, rich in -the bloom of innocence. There is the sweet fruit within--there is, or -is to come the ardent wine of love and passion, but the bloom is there -still. Oh, let it not be brushed away too soon, Lorenzo! Now listen: -Rome is a place of horror and vice. In the chair of the Apostle sits -the incarnation of every sin and crime. The example is too widely, too -eagerly followed by people ever ready to learn. The very air is -pollution. The very ground in foul. Would you take her into a -pest-house? But more, still more--nay, what shall I say? How shall I -say it? Her father--her very father has been gained by the foulest of -the foul offspring of Borgia. Ramiro d'Orco is now the bosom -counsellor of Cæsar, who, in a shorter space of time than it took his -great namesake to make himself master of the Roman State, has -accumulated more vices,--committed more crimes, than any man now -living, or that ever lived."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how have they gained him? Why have they sought him?" asked -Lorenzo. "He is himself wealthy; his daughter is more so. They cannot -approach him by mercenary means: and then, why should they seek a man -who has no political power?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A tale long to tell, an intrigue difficult to explain," replied Da -Vinci. "I can show you why and how, in a few words indeed; but if you -must seek proofs of what I say, you may have to buy them dearly. -Listen then to them, Lorenzo Visconti. Men seek that which they have -not. Money might not tempt Ramiro d'Orco. The prospect of that -political power which he does not possess has tempted him. They have -promised him what I may well call prefectal power in one half of -Romagna, and he has yielded. What would he not sacrifice for that? His -own honour--perhaps his child's. Thus your first question is answered. -Thus they have approached and gained him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now to your second question, Why they have sought him? The first -motive was to control, or, rather to restrain and mollify the -bitterest and now most powerful enemy of the house of Borgia. Do you -know that he is nearly related to the family of Rovera? that he is not -only first cousin, but schoolfellow and playmate of that famous -cardinal, Julian de Rovera, whose enmity to Alexander and to Cæsar is -so strong that, were it at the peril of his own life and the disorder -of all Christendom, he would attempt to hurl the present pontiff from -his seat, and has already branded the head of the Church with all the -infamies that can disgrace a man, much more a priest--ambition, -avarice, fraud, heresy, adultery, murder?</p> - -<p class="normal">"With him, who now journeys with the King of France, Alexander and his -bastard hope to negotiate, and to mollify him through the intercession -of Ramiro d'Orco, the only one on earth who has influence worth -consideration with the stern Cardinal Julian. This is why they seek -him. There are many other motives, but this is enough. Take her not to -Rome, young man. Listen to the counsel of one who can have no object -but your good and hers. If you do not listen, you are responsible for -all the results."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear not that anything can make her aught but what she is," replied -Lorenzo, with all the proud enthusiasm of young love. "Better, nobler -she cannot be, and as the foulest breath cannot sully the diamond, so -can no foul atmosphere tarnish her purity."</p> - -<p class="normal">A faint smile fluttered for a single instant round the lips of Da -Vinci; but he resumed his serious aspect instantly--nay, his -countenance was more grave and stern than before.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Doubtless," he said, "doubtless; for they who study much the human -face, learn to read it as a book; and hers is a beautiful page--clear, -and pure, and bright. But there are arts, young man, you know not -of--drugs of terrible power, which lull the spirit into a sleep like -that of death, and leave the body impotent for resistance or defence. -Nay, violence itself--coarse, brutal violence, may be dreaded in a -place--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"They dare not!" exclaimed Lorenzo, fiercely, "they dare not!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What dare not a Borgia do?" asked Leonardo. "When they have set at -nought every tie, moral and religious--when they have made crime their -pastime, vice their solace, poison and murder their means--provoked to -the utmost, without a fear, the wrath of man and the vengeance of -God--what dare not the Borgias do? And what could be your vengeance, -that they should fear it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But her father," said Lorenzo, "her father!"</p> - -<p class="normal">An expression almost sublime came upon the great painter's -countenance, and he answered, in a tone of stern warning.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Trust not to her father. His God is not our God! There are things so -abhorrent to the first pure, honest principles which Nature has -planted in the hearts of the young, that it is too dreadful a task to -open innocent eyes to their existence. But mark me, Lorenzo Visconti, -there have been men who have sold their children for money. Ambition -is a still fiercer passion than avarice. I have done. My task is -performed, and I may say no more than this: take her not to Rome: let -her not set foot in it, if you can prevent it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not--no, I will not," replied the young man, thoughtfully. "I -will prevent it--nay, it might be wise to acquire a right to prevent -it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never do a wrong to attain what you judge right," answered Da Vinci. -"And now good-night. You have your posts to look to; a calm walk -beneath the moon, with thought for your companion, will do you good."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo pressed his hand and they parted.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">There was a little monticule by the road-side just on the -Tuscan -frontier. At the distance of about three quarters of a mile in front -was the small fortified town of Vivizano with its citadel, seeming -strong and capable of defence; but the walls were old, especially -those of the town, and along the flat, and apparently perpendicular -faces of the curtain, the goats, unconscious of danger, were walking -quietly along, browsing on those fresh shoots of the caper plant, -which frequently appear during a benign autumn. At a distance it -seemed that there was not footing even for a goat, but the presence of -those animals showed the mortar to have been worn out between the -stones; and at one spot the keen eye of Lorenzo Visconti perceived -three or four of the bearded beasts of the mountain gathered together -as if in conclave. He marked the fact well, for he had learned that -nothing should escape a soldier's notice.</p> - -<p class="normal">He and his party had taken up their position on the little hill in -consequence of orders received from the main body, which was coming up -rapidly, and no opposition having yet been met with in the course of -the march, Leonora and her women sat on their horses and mules beside -him, little anticipating any danger.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It looks a beautiful old place, Lorenzo," said Leonora; "at least at -this distance, though one cannot tell what it may be within. But what -made the king order you to halt here as soon as you came in sight of -the town, instead of marching on as before?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot tell," replied her lover, "unless, dear girl, it is that I -sent last night to know if I might fall back to confer with your -severe relation, the Cardinal Julian de Rovera as to the journey to -Bologna. The roads may part here. Do you not see that yellow streak -running away through the meadows, and then skirting the foot of the -mountain? That may be the highway to Bologna perhaps. The king is -always kind and considerate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Jesu Maria!" cried Madonna Mariana, "what's that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The moment before she spoke a flash, sudden and bright, glanced along -a part of the old wall, and after a second or two the loud boom of one -the cannons of those days burst upon the ear. Hardly had it ceased -when a ball came whizzing by, and ploughed up the earth some fifty -yards behind them, and at about the same distance on the right.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By heavens!--they have fired a falconet at us," exclaimed Lorenzo. -"Back, back, dear Leonora; you and your women ride to that cottage -behind the point of rock. Nay, delay not, beloved. I will send some -men to keep guard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am not afraid," replied Leonora, with a smile, leaning over towards -him, and looking up in his face. "Am I not to be a soldier's bride, -Lorenzo? I must accustom myself to the sound of cannon. Those good -people must fire better ere they frighten me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But they frighten me, dear lady," cried Mariana. "Oh, come back, come -back! I am sure they fired well enough to come so near us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, come back! come back!" cried all the maids in chorus.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, go--go," answered Leonora; "I will join you in a moment or two. -I want to see them take another shot."</p> - -<p class="normal">The women waited for no further permission, but hurried off with all -speed, and Lorenzo was still engaged in persuading Leonora to follow -them, when a small troop of men-at-arms came galloping up the pass. At -their head was De Terrail.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Halt--halt here, and form upon the company of the Seigneur di -Visconti," cried the young Bayard. "My lord, I bear the king's orders -to you to advance no further, but to wait for his personal presence. -He thought, indeed, you had gone farther than he had commanded when he -heard that shot. It was a cannon, was it not?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A cannon, and not badly aimed for the first shot," replied Lorenzo; -"there is the furrow the ball made."</p> - -<p class="normal">"For God's sake send the lady to a place of safety," cried Bayard; -"what are you thinking of, my friend?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot persuade her to go," replied Lorenzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I will--I will," answered Leonora, turning her horse's head. -"Farewell, Lorenzo; win fame for your lady's sake--yet be not rash."</p> - -<p class="normal">Something bright glistened in her eye; and she turned to the cottage -where her women had already taken refuge. A small guard was then -stationed at the door, and the trumpets of the cavalry were already -heard blowing through the pass, but still Lorenzo and his friend had -time to exchange a few words before the head of the array appeared.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is the king going to do?" asked Lorenzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Attack the town and take it," replied De Terrail. "On my soul, these -Tuscans are rather bold to make a stand in such a place as that. But -they have good bombardiers it would seem. That ball came far and -well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who leads the attack?" asked Lorenzo. "Was anything settled when you -came away?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing fixed," answered Bayard; "but I fear it will all be left to -the Gascons and the Swiss. They are all infantry, you know, and if the -place is to be taken by a <i>coup de main</i> they must do it, and we -support them. The popguns<a name="div4Ref_01" href="#div4_01"><sup>[1]</sup></a> they carry, it is supposed, will do -everything."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Out upon their popguns!" cried Lorenzo. "Good faith, I trust the king -will let us have our share; it is my right, I think. I have led during -the whole march, and I have heard say, he who does so, is privileged -to make the first charge."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what would you do?" asked Bayard. "You would not charge those -stone walls, would you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied the other; "but I would dismount my men, take none but -volunteers, and lead them as <i>enfants perdus</i>. If the king will but -consent, I will undertake to carry that place sword in hand, or, at -least, be as soon in as any one."</p> - -<p class="normal">Another shot from the walls, coming still nearer than the preceding -ball, interrupted their conversation, and before it could be renewed, -the Gascon infantry began to debouche from the path and deploy to the -left. Then came the Swiss infantry, and then a body of cavalry, under -the Count d'Entragues. All was glitter and display, shining arms, -waving banners, nodding plumes, lances and pikes, arquebusses, -crossbows, halberts, surcoats of silk and cloth of gold and silver; -but what most struck the eyes of the two young soldiers was the -admirable array of the Swiss infantry, as every movement and evolution -was performed. No rank was broken, no disorder appeared, but shoulder -to shoulder, man treading in the step of man, they marched, they -wheeled, they deployed, as if the body of which they formed a part was -one of those machines which change their form continually at the will -of those who manage them, without ever losing their solidity.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length appeared the magnificent escort of the king, who immediately -rode up to the little hill on which Lorenzo was posted, and gazed -forward towards the town, while two more shot from the walls were -heard, and a slight agitation among the Gascon infantry on the left, -told that this time some effect had followed.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the king's first appearance, Lorenzo had sprung to the ground, and -approached his stirrup, but he suffered him to gaze over the scene -uninterrupted, till Charles turned his eyes upon him, and said:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, what has happened, my young lord?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing, sire, but that they have fired a few shots at us from the -walls. I beseech your majesty, as I have led all the way, to let me -have my place in the attack. I would fain lead still, if you will -permit me to dismount my men, and I think I will show you that -gentlemen-at-arms can take a place as well as foot soldiers. I have -marked a spot where I will undertake to force an entrance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where? where?" asked the monarch, eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot well point it out, sire," replied the young man; "but I can -find it if you will permit me."</p> - -<p class="normal">The king looked round to the superior officers about him, saying in a -hesitating tone:</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is contrary to the order we proposed. What say you, La -Tremouille?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, sire, there must be <i>enfans perdu</i> either taken from the Gascons -or some other," replied the great commander.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let him go--let him go!" cried De Vitry, gaily; "if the youth will -wager his life against his spurs, why let him go, sire."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Support him by the Swiss, and the Swiss by some men-at-arms, to guard -against a sortie, and let him go in God's name," added La Tremouille. -"Make haste, Visconti! Select your men well, and call for some ladders -from the rear."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Better summon the place first," said the king.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is the rule, sire, and should be done," answered the other; "but -methinks these good people imagine they have been summoned already by -the answers they send from their walls. There they go again! By my -life they are aiming at the royal banner. Pity the artillery is so far -behind, or we would answer them in kind. From that youth's eye, -however, I think we shall have no need of bombards. He has spied some -advantage, I will stake my life."</p> - -<p class="normal">A trumpet was accordingly sent forward, and was suffered to approach -close to the walls; but he returned with the answer that the garrison -was strong, had been placed there by the Signoria of Florence, and -could not consent to surrender without a stroke struck. In fact, they -saw that no artillery was present at the time with the king's army, -and did not believe the place could be taken without a breach being -made.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meantime Lorenzo had addressed a few words to his troop, asking -who would accompany him to lead the attack. Such was the confidence he -had gained during the march that every man sprung to the ground and -professed himself ready, even to the lowest casstelier. Only fifty, -however, were selected, and the rest ordered to remain with the -horses. Some scaling-ladders were procured, and all was ready to -advance when the trumpet returned. A short pause ensued, and then was -heard the beat of the drum.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo sprang forward; his men came rapidly after, bearing the -ladders horizontally; and the Swiss followed with an interval of some -fifty yards. A strong body of Gascons, with petards, directed their -course towards one of the gates of the town; and a battalion of Swiss -moved towards a postern, which had been discovered in the curtain. But -Lorenzo was before them all, and lost not an inch of ground. Straight -towards what seemed to the eye of the king the most inaccessible spot -of the fortress he bent his way, taking advantage of every undulation -of the ground to shelter his men from the cannon-balls, which now came -somewhat faster than at first, till he arrived within fifty paces of -the spot where he had marked the goats climbing and standing. There in -a little ravine, which the guns, as they were planted on the walls, -could not bear upon, he turned for one moment to the men, exclaiming:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here, gentlemen, I have seen the goats go up and down, and surely we -can do so too. The lowest part is the most difficult. The ladders--the -ladders to the front; now, on with a rush!"</p> - -<p class="normal">All were active, all were strong. The ditch, then dry, was speedily -reached; and the ladders raised. They were too short to approach the -summit of the wall, but Lorenzo's keen eye had not deceived him. Where -he had seen the goats gathered together several huge stones had -fallen; and, from that spot, there was a clear but narrow pathway up. -At first it seemed as if he would meet but small resistance; for -attacked in three quarters and divided in opinion amongst themselves, -the superior officers of the Florentine garrison were consulting -whether it would not be better to hang out a white flag and treat for -a surrender. But speedily, soldiers came running along the platform -above, hand guns and cross-bows were pointed at the ascending party, -and large stones were cast down upon their heads. It was too late to -treat now: the attack had fully commenced, the struggle was for life -or death, and the defenders fought with the energy of despair.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meantime there were many and varying feelings in and around the -cottage above where Leonora and her women had taken refuge. Fear--for -with all the personal courage she had shown, and with an eager longing -for his renown, the young girl still felt for her lover's safety. -Fear, and hope, and anxious expectations succeeded each other in -Leonora's bosom, like the changing aspects of a dream. Now she saw him -in imagination mangled and bleeding in the fight; now beheld him -carrying the banner of France triumphantly over the worsted foe; now -fancied him still detained with the cavalry on the hill, and fretting -at inaction.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Run out--run out, Antonio!" she cried, after bearing the struggle in -her heart for some time, "see what has become of your lord, and let me -know if he be still on the hill."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Certainly, Signora, if you desire it," answered the other, "although, -thank Heaven, I am one of God's peaceable creatures, and love not -cannon-balls more than my neighbours, yet, where not more than one man -out of five hundred is likely to be hit during a whole day, I may take -my chance for five minutes without gaining the evil reputation of a -fighting man."</p> - -<p class="normal">He went out as he spoke, but stayed more than the five minutes; for to -say the truth, he soon became interested in the scene, as he beheld -the three bodies of French troops moving down to the assault. He could -not, it is true, discover to which body his young lord was attached, -but he saw clearly enough that he had left the hill. The horses and -the men not engaged had moved towards the rear out of cannon shot, and -the little monticule was now occupied only by the king, his Scottish -archers and several of his counsellors and immediate attendants.</p> - -<p class="normal">After watching for a few moments, Antonio glided in amongst the horses -till he reached the side of young Bayard, and pulling his surcoat, he -said, "Signor de Terrail, will you tell me where Signor Visconti is?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"There!" answered Bayard, pointing with his hand, "he is leading the -centre attack at the head of the forlorn hope."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God shield us!" exclaimed Antonio, "is he fool enough to plunge into -forlorn hopes, when he has got such warm ones in that cottage there?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, I had forgot the lady," replied de Terrail, "she must doubtless -be anxious."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, as anxious as a hen who sees her brood of ducklings venture into -a pond," answered Antonio.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tell her I will come and bring her news from time to time," replied -Bayard, "a lady's fears are to be reverenced, my good friend, -especially when she nobly sends her lover to the field with -strengthening words. Go, and say all goes well, and I will come and -bear her tidings."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, while Antonio turned back to the cottage, the young hero -fixed his eyes upon the small party of his friend, and never lost -sight but for a moment or two, when some irregularity of the ground or -the masses of the Swiss infantry interposed, of the surcoat of violet -and gold, which Lorenzo wore that day.</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are nearing the wall," said the king aloud, "God send the youth -has not deceived himself; but he will be there before the others reach -the gates."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Look, sire, there is a rush!" cried La Tremouille.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has got three ladders up by Heaven?" exclaimed de Vitry, "now God -speed you, brave heart!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The Swiss quickened their pace to support, and as they poured in over -the rise in the ground hid the <i>enfants perdus</i> from sight, and all -for a moment or two seemed confusion, while the defenders upon the -walls alone appeared distinctly, hurling down masses of stone, and -firing upon the assailants from every embrasure. At length, however, a -figure appeared on the top of one of the ladders, carrying a banner in -his left hand. He sprang, as it appeared at that distance, straight -against the side of the wall. But he gained footing there; and then -bounded up towards the summit. Another, and another followed; but -still the banner bearer was the first; and at length, though -surrounded evidently by a crowd of foes, he stood firm upon the -parapet and waved the flag proudly in the air, while a gleam of -sunshine broke through the cloud of smoke and shone upon the surcoat -of violet and gold.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Visconti for a thousand crowns?" cried Bayard enthusiastically, "he -is first in, he has won the town!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are you sure it is he?" demanded the king.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Certain, sire," replied De Terrail, "I have kept my eye on him all -the time. I can see his surcoat distinctly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes, it is he," said La Tremouille, "the Swiss are pouring up -after. The place is taken, and see, they have forced the south gate. -But Visconti is first in. His be the <i>los!</i>"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your pardon for a moment, sire," said Bayard, "but by your leave I -will carry the tidings to yon cottage behind the angle of the rock. -The Signora Leonora d'Orco is waiting anxious there for tidings. She -sent Lorenzo forth with the words, 'Win fame for your lady's sake.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And he has won it like a paladin," cried Charles, whom everything -that smacked of ancient chivalry kindled quickly into a glow. "In -truth did she say so? 'Twas like a noble lady. Shame is me, I had -forgotten her in this unexpected resistance. Carry her this ring from -me, De Terrail, tell her that Lorenzo has won the town and a pair of -spurs this day!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And mind, De Terrail," cried De Vitry, "that you kiss her hand when -you put the ring on her finger. By my faith it is worth kissing, -though I know one still fairer than that."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lucky Lorenzo!" thought Bayard as he rode away; but never was man so -little envious of another's good fortune, and though he could not but -regret that he had not been permitted to take part in the assault, no -jealousy of his friend mingled with the sigh that he gave to his own -ill luck.</p> - -<p class="normal">"All goes well--all goes well, Signora," he cried as he approached the -cottage door at which Leonora was standing. "Visconti has stormed the -town and taken it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lorenzo--my Lorenzo!" exclaimed Leonora, "so young--he storm the -town!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He did, dear lady," replied Bayard, "he scaled the walls, he was -first upon the parapet. I saw him myself with his banderol in his hand -before another soldier entered. The king saw him too, and has sent -you this ring, for we all know that it was your love and your words -that gave him strength and valour to do all he has done this day."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora could bear no more joy, and she bent down her head and wept, -while Bayard gently put the ring upon her finger adding, "His majesty -bade me tell you that Lorenzo has won the town and a pair of spurs -this day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then he is well--then he is uninjured?" said Leonora.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He may have a scratch or two perhaps," replied Bayard, "but he can -have no serious hurt if I may judge by the way he waved the banderol -on the wall when he had gained it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank God for that also," said the beautiful girl, "but here, if I -mistake not, comes his majesty himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">As she spoke, followed by some half dozen of his guard, and -accompanied by an elderly man in the scarlet robes of the highest -clerical rank, the monarch rode slowly up and dismounted at the -cottage door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is no more to be seen there," he said, approaching Leonora, -"the banner of France floats over every tower and gate. So now, fair -lady, I have time to pay my knightly devoirs to you; and moreover to -introduce you to a near relation, who tells me he has not seen you -since you were a child. This is the Cardinal Julian de Rovera."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora made a low obeisance to the king, in whose sweet and somewhat -suffering face she saw a spirit of kindness and generous feeling that -encouraged her, but knelt before the cardinal and reverently kissed -his hand. His was a harsh though handsome countenance, and there was a -flash in his dark eye which seemed to betoken a fiery and passionate -nature.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Rise, rise, my child," said he good humouredly enough. "I was much -surprised, when a few nights ago, I joined his majesty of France, to -hear that you were journeying with so young a cavalier as this Lorenzo -Visconti."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was by my father's express command, your eminence," replied -Leonora, "and besides, as you see, I have not only my own women with -me, but also Mona Mariana here, a person of discreet age, sent with me -by your uncle the count."</p> - -<p class="normal">A slight smile, unperceived by the cardinal; passed across the sweet -lips of the beautiful girl, as she thought of the amount of Mariana's -discretion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, that is all right," said the hasty cardinal, "and how has -he comported himself towards you, this young lord?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"With all care and kindness," answered Leonora.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, doubtless," he answered, "but with reverence too, I hope--sought -to do you no wrong?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The colour came up into Leonora's cheek, but it was evidently not the -blush of shame.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lorenzo Visconti is incapable of doing wrong to any one, my Lord -Cardinal," she said, "and were he not, the last one, methinks, he -would seek to wrong is his promised wife."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, and has it gone as far as that?" said the cardinal, "pray is this -with your father's knowledge."</p> - -<p class="normal">"With his knowledge and his full consent, my lord," replied Leonora, -not a little offended at his close questions and harsh manner before -so many witnesses. It must indeed be recollected that Ramiro d'Orco, -though cold in manner towards his child, had left her almost to the -guidance of her own will, before we can judge of the feelings created -by Julian's assumption of authority.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, it is all well, I suppose," replied the old man, "and now, -Signora, can you tell me what it is your young protector wants to say -to me. Doubtless, you know he wrote to his majesty, here present, -requesting to be permitted to fall back in order to confer with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He sought your counsel and directions, my lord," replied Leonora; -"the course of the army had been changed, and marched by Parma instead -of Bologna. My father had also gone on from Bologna, where I was to -have joined him, to Rome, which Lorenzo thought not a fit place for -me, and there were many other reasons which he can explain better than -I can, why he thought you, sir--reverend as you are, by life and -profession--should be consulted as soon as we heard you were near."</p> - -<p class="normal">A well-pleased smile came upon the face of the old man. "That is as it -should be," he said, in a much mollified tone; "this young Lorenzo, my -child, seems, as I have heard he is, a youth of great discretion and -judgment. You must not think my questions hard; they spring from -regard for Ramiro's child. I will see your young lover, and talk with -him more."</p> - -<p class="normal">While this conversation had been passing between the Cardinal of St. -Peter's and Leonora, the young King of France had cast himself upon -one of the cottage settles, and was speaking quietly with the Duke of -Montpensier, D'Entragues, and some other officers who had come with -him; but he had heard several of the questions of the cardinal, and he -now joined in saying, "You estimate too lightly, my Lord Cardinal, the -chivalry of our French knights. Lorenzo Visconti has been brought up -at our court, and when a beautiful lady like this is entrusted to his -charge, he looks upon her by the laws of chivalry as a sacred relic -which he has to bear to some distant shrine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No reason for his not kissing the relic," said De Vitry, in a low -tone, "indeed, it were but a becoming act of devotion--but who comes -here running like a deer?--One of your Majesty's pages; now God send -nothing has gone wrong."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it, Martin de Lourdes?" asked the king, as the boy bounded -up.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is a horseman coming at full speed from the town, sire," said -the youth, "he looks like the Seigneur de Visconti, and Monsieur de la -Tremouille thought it best to let you know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But Lorenzo had dismounted," said the king; "his horse, with the rest -of the troop, are up the pass there."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He could easily find one in the town, sire," said Montpensier. But -while they were discussing the matter, Lorenzo himself rode up, and -dismounted a few steps from the spot where the king was seated. His -surcoat was rent and torn; his crest and helmet hacked with blows, and -in one place dented in; but there was no blood or sign of injury about -him, and his face was flushed with haste and excitement.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The town is taken, sire," he said, "but I grieve to say there is no -restraining the soldiery. Not only do the rabble of Swiss and Gascons -give no quarter to armed men; but they are killing and plundering the -unarmed and defenceless."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let them kill! let them kill, Visconti!" said the Count d'Entragues. -"You must be accustomed to such sights."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I beseech you, sire, send down a company of men-at-arms, and put a -stop to this cruel disorder."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They deserve punishment for daring to hold out an untenable place," -said the young king, sternly, "such is the law of arms; is it not, -Montpensier?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly, sire," replied the duke, "no one can claim quarter as a -right in a town taken by assault, and if the attempt is made to resist -when the place is notoriously untenable, the strict law condemns every -one of the garrison to the cord. I should judge, however, that by this -time the slaughter has gone far enough to strike terror into the other -towns before us. It might, therefore, be as well to send down a few -lances to keep the infantry in order."</p> - -<p class="normal">"De Vitry, you go," said Charles, eagerly, for cruelty was no part of -his character, "give my express command to cease from pillage and -bloodshed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But your Majesty said this youth had won a pair of spurs. I would -fain see them on his heels before I go, and here is a fair lady quite -ready to buckle them on."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go--pray go at once, De Vitry," said Lorenzo, "do not stop to jest on -such nonsensical themes. You know not what barbarities are being -committed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not jest at all," replied De Vitry, "but I will go. To hear the -boy, one would think I was made up of bad jokes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was no joke, Signor Lorenzo," said the king. "You have taken the -first town we have attacked, for I saw you first upon the walls. But -go, my Lord Marquis, restore order in the place, and as you pass the -hill, send down our banner. We will give him the accolade, even here -in his lady's sight, under the royal standard, to encourage others to -serve their lady and their king as well as he has done to-day."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It was in the king's tent, on the night after the fall of -Vivizano--for so rapid had been the capture of the place that time for -a short march towards Sarzana still remained after its fall, and so -wild and uncultivated was the country round, so scanty the supply of -provisions and fodder, that all were anxious to get into a more -plentiful region--it was in the king's tent then, a wide and sumptuous -pavilion, that on the night after the capture of Vivizano a council -was assembled, amongst the members of which might be seen nearly as -many churchmen as soldiers.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is impossible to narrate a thousandth part of all that took place; -messengers and soldiers came and went; new personages were introduced -upon the scene; and some of the old characters which had disappeared -returned to the monarch's court.</p> - -<p class="normal">A young man, magnificently dressed, and of comely form and face, sat -near to Charles on his right hand; and when Bayard, who was standing -with Lorenzo a little behind the king's chair, asked Visconti who the -new comer was, Lorenzo answered:</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is Pierre de Medici. We were old companions long ago; for he is -not many years my elder."</p> - -<p class="normal">"His face looks weak!" said Bayard; "I should not think he was equal -to his father."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo shook his head with a sigh; and De Terrail continued:</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is our old friend, Ludovic the Moor, too. He arrived to-day, I -suppose. I wonder the king has you here; he was always so anxious to -keep you out of his way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The camp is a safer place than the court," said Lorenzo; "he cannot -well poison me here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, nor stab you either," said Bayard, "that is to say, without being -found out. Yet you had better beware; for he has got a notion, I am -told, that you may some time or another dispute his duchy with him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is nonsense, De Terrail," replied Lorenzo: "the Duke of Orleans -is nearer to the dukedom than I am."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but policy might keep the duke out and favour you," said Bayard. -"It does not do to make a subject too powerful. But what are they -about now? What packet is that which Breconnel is opening and laying -its contents before the king?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That looks like the papal seal pendant from it," replied Visconti. -"Hark! the bishop is about to read it aloud."</p> - -<p class="normal">The conversation of the two young men had been carried on in a low -tone, and many another whispered talk had been going on amongst the -courtiers, drowned by the louder sounds which had issued from the -immediate neighbourhood of the table at which the king sat; but the -moment that the Bishop of St. Malo began to read, or rather to -translate aloud, the letters which he held in his hand, and which were -written in Latin, every tongue was stilled, and each ear bent to hear.</p> - -<p class="normal">"His Holiness greets your Majesty well," said the bishop; "but he -positively prohibits your advance to Rome under pain of the major -censures of the Church. These are his words," and he proceeded in a -somewhat stumbling and awkward manner to decipher and render into -French the pontifical missive.</p> - -<p class="normal">The despatch was rather diffuse and lengthy, and while the good bishop -went on, an elderly man plainly habited in black, came round and -whispered something several times in the king's ear. Charles turned -towards him and listened while the prelate went on; and at last the -monarch replied, saying something which was not heard by others, and -adding a very significant sign. The secret adviser withdrew at once -into an inner apartment of the tent, from the main chamber of which it -was separated by a crimson curtain. He returned in a moment with a -large book, on the wood and velvet cover of which reposed a crucifix -and a rosary. The Bishop of St. Malo read on; but without noticing -him, the man in black knelt before the king, who immediately laid his -hand on the crucifix, and then, after murmuring some words in a -subdued tone, yet not quite in a whisper, raised the volume to his -lips and kissed it with every appearance of reverence.</p> - -<p class="normal">The book, the crucifix, and the rosary were then removed as silently -as they had been brought, and the reading of the papal brief proceeded -without interruption. When the prelate had concluded the reading of -the missive which threatened the monarch of France, the eldest son of -the Church, with all the thunders of the Vatican if he dared to -advance upon Rome, Charles, in his low, sweet voice, addressed the -bishop, saying:</p> - -<p class="normal">"My Lord Bishop, I have but one answer to make to the prohibition of -His Holiness, but I trust that answer will be deemed sufficient by all -the members of my council, though all are devout men, and some of them -peculiarly reverend by profession and by sanctity of life. I should -wish an answer written to our Apostolic Father, assuring him of our -deep respect and our willingness to obey his injunctions in all -matters of religion, where superior duties from which he himself -cannot set us free do not interpose; but informing him of a fact which -he does not know, that we are bound by a sacred vow sworn upon the -Holy Evangelists, and upon a crucifix which contains a portion of the -true cross, to visit the shrine of St. Peter before we turn our steps -homewards. Is that not sufficient cause, my Lord Cardinal," he -continued, looking towards Julian de Rovers, "to pass by all -impediments and prohibitions and go forward on our pilgrimage?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sufficient cause," exclaimed the eager and impetuous prelate, "what -need of any cause? what need of any vow?"</p> - -<p class="normal">He paused, almost choked by the impetuosity of his feelings; and a -smile which had passed round the council at hearing a vow just taken, -alleged as an excuse for disregarding a prohibition issued long -before, faded away in eagerness to hear the further reply of a man -whose powerful mind and iron will were known to all.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, the king," he answered, in a calmer tone, after he had -recovered breath. "Your vow is all-sufficient, but there are weightier -causes even than that solemn vow which call you to Rome. The greatest, -the most important task which ever monarch undertook lies before you. -A Heresiarch sits in the throne of St. Peter, a man whose private -life, base and criminal as it is, is pure compared with his public -life--whose guilt, black as it is, as a priest and a pontiff, is white -as snow compared with his guilt as the pretended head of the Christian -church, in negotiating with, and allying himself to infidels--to the -slaves of Mahomed, against Christian men and monarchs, the most devout -servants of the holy see. Well may I see consternation, surprise, and -even incredulity, on the countenances of all present! But I speak not -on rumour, or the vague report of the enemies of Alexander Borgia, -calling himself Pope. Happily into my hands have fallen these letters -which have passed between him and Bajazet, the Infidel Sultan. They -are too long to read now; but I deliver them into the hands of the -kings council, and will only state a few of the facts which they make -manifest. Thus it appears, from these letters, of which the -authenticity is beyond doubt, that this heretical interloper in the -chair of St. Peter, has agreed to receive, and does receive an annual -pension from Antichrist, and that he has engaged for three hundred -thousand ducats to assassinate an unhappy prince of the infidels, -named Zizim, who is in his power, to gratify the impious Sultan of the -Turks. Let the council read these letters; let them consider them -well; let them compare the life and conversation of the man with these -acts of the pontiff, and then decide whether it is not the duty of the -Most Christian King, not only to march to Rome, but to call a council -of the Church Universal, for the trial and deposition of one who holds -his seat, not by the grace of God, but by the aid of simony, and the -machinations of the devil. My lord the king, I address you as the -eldest son of the Church, as the descendant of those who have -struggled, and fought, and bled for her; and I call upon you to -deliver her from the oppression under which she groans, to eject from -her highest place the profane man who has no right to the seat of St. -Peter, and to purify the temple and the altar from the desecration of -a Borgia."<a name="div4Ref_02" href="#div4_02"><sup>[2]</sup></a></p> - -<p class="normal">Charles hesitated for a few moments ere he replied, and two or three -of those quiet counsellors, one of whom had previously addressed him, -now came separately and spoke to him in low tones over the back of his -chair.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord the cardinal," he said at length, "the grave subject your -Eminence has brought before us, is of so important a nature that it -requires much and calm consideration. Rome is yet far off, and on our -march thither we shall have many an occasion to call for your counsel. -This subject, surpassing all others in importance, must engage our -attention when we can have a more private interview; for it will be -needful to avoid in doing our best to purify the Church, the great -danger of creating a scandal in the Church itself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Wisely spoken, my lord the king," answered the prelate, "but I should -like at present to know, who is the messenger who has had the -hardihood to bear a prohibition from entering the holy city to the -successor of Charlemagne.<a name="div4Ref_03" href="#div4_03"><sup>[3]</sup></a> Can it be one of the Sacred College? If -so, why is he not here present?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, to speak the truth," said the Bishop of St. Malo, with a rueful -smile, "his holiness has not altogether shown the respect which is due -to his own brief, or to his Majesty's crown, in the choice of a -messenger. He who has brought the missive is a common courier. He -calls himself, indeed, a gentleman of Rome, and, by the way, he has -with him a man who desires to see and speak with your Eminence, for -whom, he says, he has letters. They may, perhaps, throw some light -upon the question why his holiness did not entrust such an important -paper to a more dignified bearer."</p> - -<p class="normal">To uninstructed ears the words of the good bishop had little special -meaning; but intrigue and corruption were then so general, especially -in Italian courts, that the Cardinal Julian at once perceived from the -language used, a doubt in the mind of some of the king's counsellors -as to whether, while declaiming against Alexander, he might not be -secretly negotiating with him for his own purposes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let the man be brought in," he said, abruptly. "I know not who should -write to me from Rome; but we shall soon see. Good faith! I have had -little communication with any one in that city since the taking of -Ostia. Let the man be called, I beseech you, my good and reverend -lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Bishop of St. Malo spoke to one of the attendants; the man quitted -the tent, and some other business was proceeded with, occupying about -a quarter of an hour, when a personage was introduced and brought to -the end of the table, whom the reader has heard of before. He was a -small, thin, wiry man, dressed as a friar. His countenance was not -very prepossessing, and his complexion both sallow and sun-burned, -except where a thick black beard closely shaved, gave a bluish tint to -the skin; and there a great difference of hue in the skin itself, -seemed to intimate that the razor had only lately been applied.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who are you, sir?" said the cardinal sharply, as soon as his -attention had been directed to the new comer, "and what want you with -me? I am Julian de Rovera, Cardinal of St. Peter's, if you are seeking -that person."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am but a poor friar of the Order of St. Francis, Brother Martin by -name," replied the man, "and the Signor Ramiro d'Orco, a noble lord -now in Rome, hearing that I was journeying to Bologna----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But this is not Bologna," said the Cardinal, "nor on the way -thither."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True, your Eminence," answered the other, "but, as I was saying, the -Signor Ramiro, hearing that I was going to Bologna, entrusted certain -letters to my care for your Eminence, whom he asserted to be his near -relation----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay! cousins--first cousins," said the impetuous prelate, "what -then?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, holy sir," continued the pretended friar, "finding that you were -not where the Signor Ramiro thought, and knowing that the letters were -important, I joined myself to the messenger of his Holiness and came -on hither."</p> - -<p class="normal">A slight smile passed over the lip of Ludovic the Moor, as the man -spoke; and it is not at all improbable that he recognised in the monk -a follower of his bravo, Buondoni; but he took no notice, and the -cardinal exclaimed:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where are these letters? Let me see them, brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are here, Eminence," answered the man, feeling in the breast of -his gown. "This is for you," and he presented one letter to the -cardinal, while he held another in his hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what is that? Who is that for?" asked Julian, sharply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is for the Signora Leonora d'Orco, if I can find her," replied -the monk.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can find her," said the cardinal; "let me see the letter."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man hesitated; but the prelate repeated, in a stern tone, "Let me -see the letter," and it was handed to him with evident reluctance. -Without the slightest ceremony he broke the seal, even before he had -examined the letter addressed to himself, and began reading it by the -light of the candelabra which stood near him.</p> - -<p class="normal">The contents seemed by no means to give him satisfaction, and as he -was much in the habit of venting his thoughts aloud, it is probable -that an oath or two would have found their way to his lips, had he not -been restrained, not only by a sense of his sacred calling, but by the -presence of so many strangers.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Santa Maria!" he exclaimed, "did ever man hear! A pretty father -truly. Would he cradle a new-born infant in a sow's sty?</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hark ye, friar! if you reach Rome before me, tell my good cousin that -I have too much regard for his wife's child to let her set her foot in -the palace of any of the Borgias. Tell him that, being guarded by a -noble gentleman and a good soldier, and guided and directed by me, she -will be quite safe till she reaches Florence, and that there I shall -place her under the matronly care of our cousin, Madonna Francesca -Melloni. Now get you gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your Eminence says nothing of his letter to yourself," said the -pretended friar, with a slight sneer. "I will not fail to give him -your answer to his letter to his daughter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! his letter to myself," said Julian; "I had forgotten that--but -doubtless it is of no great importance;--let me see," and he tore open -the epistle.</p> - -<p class="normal">It seemed to afford him less satisfaction than even the other had -given; for his face worked, and many a broken sentence burst angrily -from his lips; but at length he turned to the messenger, again saying:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tell him I will answer this in person--perhaps in the Vatican. Yet -stop; say, moreover, 'none but wolves herd with wolves.' Let him mark -that; he will understand. There is money for your convent; now get ye -gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">It had not been without some feeling of indignation that Lorenzo had -beheld Ramiro d'Orco's letter to his daughter so dealt with; but the -conclusion to which the prelate came pleased him well.</p> - -<p class="normal">The whole interview between the cardinal and the messenger had not -occupied much more than about five minutes; but yet it could hardly be -called an episode in the council of King Charles, for on some account -most of those present seemed to take no inconsiderable interest in -what was passing at that part of the table, and all other business was -suspended. The eyes of the king and his counsellors were directed now -to the prelate, now to the messenger, and the only sounds that -interfered with the conversation were some whispered remarks going on -amongst the young officers behind.</p> - -<p class="normal">When the monk was gone, there was a silent pause, as if every one -waited for another to open some new topic for discussion, but at -length the king said--</p> - -<p class="normal">"You seem dissatisfied with your cousin's letter, my lord cardinal. Is -it of importance?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not in the least, sire," answered Julian; "Ramiro tries to compose -what he calls, 'an ancient but really slight difference,' between me -and Alexander Borgia. Really slight difference! Oh yes, the saints be -praised, it is as slight as the difference between oil and water, or -fire and ice. Can the man think that a few soft words, or the offer of -two or three towns and castles, can make me look with favour upon a -simonise, an adulterer, a poisoner, a heretic, and an abettor of -heretics, in the chair of St. Peter? No, no. There is the letter, my -lord the king, for your private reading. I have nothing to conceal; I -deal in no serpent-like policy; and now, with your Majesty's -permission, I will retire. I have not the strength I once had, and I -am somewhat weary. If you will allow me I will take the young -gentleman, Lorenzo Visconti, with me, as I see him here. We can take -counsel together as I go to my tent."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We are sorry to lose your wisdom at our council, my lord cardinal," -replied the king; "but happily our more important business is over. -Signor Visconti, conduct his Eminence to his quarters."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let me call the torch-bearers, my lord," said Lorenzo, springing to -the entrance of the tent, round which a crowd of attendants were -assembled. But the impetuous prelate came hard upon his steps, and -stood more patiently than might have been expected till his flambeaux -were lighted. Two torchbearers and a soldier or two went before, and -he followed with Lorenzo by his side, walking slowly along, and -keeping silence till they had nearly reached his pavilion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, young man?" said the cardinal at length, "what think you of my -reply to my good cousin Ramiro? Did it satisfy you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fully, your Eminence," answered the young man; "it was all that I -could wish or desire. Indeed I cannot but think that it was a special -blessing of God that you were here to rescue me from a terrible -difficulty regarding the Signora Leonora."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How so--how so?" asked the prelate quickly, "you would not have sent -her to Rome, would you, even if I had not been here?</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my lord cardinal," answered Lorenzo firmly, "but it is a terrible -thing to teach a child to disobey a parent. You had spiritual -authority and a nearer right, and no one can doubt that you decided -justly and well. Had I done the same, all men would have judged that -my mere inclinations led me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are wise and prudent beyond your years," said the old man, well -pleased, "no use of conference as I told you this morning, there -before Vivizano. I make up my mind of men's characters rapidly but -seldom wrongly. Here take Ramiro's letter to Leonora, and recount to -her all I did. Tell her, that by the altar I serve and the God I -worship, and the Saviour in whom I put my trust, I could not consent -to her being plunged into a sea of guilt and pollution, such as the -world has never seen since the days of Heliogabalus."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear, my lord cardinal, she has retired to rest," said Lorenzo, -"but if so I will deliver the letter and your Eminence's words -to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">A slight smile came upon the old man's face; but notwithstanding his -sternness and occasional violence, softer and kinder emotions would -sometimes spring up from his heart. He crossed himself as if sorry for -the mere worldly smile; and then looking up on high, where the stars -were sparkling clear and bright, he murmured, "Well, after all, this -pure young love is a noble and beautiful thing. Good night, my son, -God's benison and mine be upon you."</p> - -<p class="normal">They had now reached the entrance of his tent and there they parted.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">From the rejoicing gates of Pisa--set free by the King of -France from -the burdensome yoke of Florence--the royal army took its way to the -daughter of Fiesole. Steadily, though slowly it marched on, and -Lorenzo Visconti led the van. Oh what thoughts, what struggles of -feeling, what various emotions perplexed him when he saw the walls and -towers of Florence rising before him! There his early infancy had -passed after his father had perished in the successful effort to rid -his country of a tyrant, but only, alas, to give her another. There -had his youth been protected, his life saved, his education received, -his fortunes cared for, his happiest days passed. And now he -approached the cradle of his youth at the head of an invading army.</p> - -<p class="normal">With his lance upon his thigh and his beaver raised he gazed upon the -beautiful city with apprehension but not without hope. He knew that -Florence had no power to resist; that her walls were too feeble, her -towers not strong enough to make any successful defence against the -tremendous train of artillery which followed the French army. He -trembled to think of what might be the consequence of one bombard -fired from those battlements, one gate closed upon the foe. The scenes -of Vivizano returned to his imagination, and he thought he saw the -forms of well known friends and early companions exposed to the -licence and brutality of the cruel soldiery.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I at least come not as an enemy," he thought, "and perchance if it be -God's good will, I may do something in return for all that Florence -has done for me."</p> - -<p class="normal">He looked anxiously round as he continued his march, but he could see -no signs of resistance. Now his eyes rested upon the calm Arno flowing -on, alternately seen and lost; and then he caught a glimpse of the -Mugnione, and a torrent but now a brook, rushing down from the -Apennines. Many a winding road caught his eye, but nothing appeared -upon them but trains of peasantry seemingly seeking shelter from the -apprehended pillage by the light troops of the French army.</p> - -<p class="normal">Many a time he sent a message back to the king to say that all was -quiet and peaceable; and more than once he fell somewhat into the rear -of his party to speak a word or two to some one in a litter, well -guarded, which had followed during the last three days' march. But -still all remained quiet, and he saw no reason to suppose that the -rumors which had been current in the French camp had any foundation. -Those rumours had imported, that the acts of Pierre de Medici, who had -sought the King of France and humbly submitted to any terms which the -monarch's council thought fit to dictate, had been disavowed by the -Signoria, Pierre himself obliged to fly in disgrace, and that the -citizens were resolved to defend their homes to the last. It is true -that he had never seen such a number of peasants seeking the city -before; and he remarked that there were few, if any, women, and no -children amongst them. But there stood the gates wide open, with -nothing but half a dozen armed men at some of the entrances to -indicate that it was a fortified place. No order had been given to -halt at any particular spot, and Lorenzo rode on till he was not more -than three hundred yards from the Pisa gate, when a large party of the -king's <i>fouriers</i> and harbingers, accompanied by a trumpeter, passed -him at the gallop and rode straight up to the city. The trumpet blew, -and admission for the King of France was demanded in a loud tone, when -one of the officers on guard stepped forward and replied, "We have no -orders to oppose the king's entrance."</p> - -<p class="normal">Just at that moment the Cardinal Julian came up on a fine swift mule, -followed by numerous cross bearers and attendants, and paused by the -side of Lorenzo, saying, "Follow me into the city, my son. I have the -king's order to that effect. We will first carry our young charge to -the house of Madonna Francesca, and then both you and I may have some -charitable work on hand to mediate between the monarch and the -citizens."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But whither does his majesty direct his own steps?" asked Lorenzo -eagerly, "how shall we find him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He goes direct to the palace of the Podesta," said the cardinal; -"come on--come on, before the crowd of soldiery overtakes us."</p> - -<p class="normal">The troop moved on and was the first body of regular soldiers to pass -the gates. There was some noise and confusion, the <i>fouriers</i>, a loud -and boisterous body of men, asking many questions of the Florentine -soldiers at the guard-house, to which but sullen answers were -returned; and Lorenzo judged it a point of duty to relieve the Tuscans -of the charge of the gate and place a French guard there to ensure -against anything like treachery. The cardinal coinciding, the change -was soon made without resistance, and the troops passed on into the -city. The day was dark, and the tall fortress-like houses of the -streets looked sad and gloomy, though through the narrow windows of -the massive walls peered forth a crowd of human faces watching in -silence the passage of the French men-at-arms. No smile was upon any -countenance, no look of admiration at the rich surcoats and glittering -arms; but everything bore the same stern and gloomy aspect, and -Lorenzo remarked that many of the persons he saw were heavily armed.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, in the Via Ghibelina, Julian de Rovera stopped his mule -before a large heavy entrance-gate, and commanded one of his -palfreniers to seek admittance. The whole cavalcade was eyed -attentively by more than one person through a small iron-grated window -at the side of the door, and though it was announced to the observers -that no less a person than the Cardinal of St. Peter's sought -admission to see his cousin, Mona Francesca, he was not permitted to -enter till one or two embassies had passed between the wicket and the -saloons above. At length he was suffered to pass into the court with -his own train alone; but Lorenzo and his band, and even Leonora and -her women, were kept waiting in the street, subject to the gaze of -many an eye from the houses round.</p> - -<p class="normal">The two young lovers did not fail to employ the time of expectation to -the best advantage. It was a painful and somewhat embarrassing moment, -and required both consolation and consideration. They were about to be -separated, after having enjoyed unrestrained a period of sweet -companionship and happy intimacy which falls to the lot of few young -people so situated towards each other. Lorenzo leaned into the litter -and spoke to her he loved with words little restrained by the presence -of Mona Mariana, of whose kindness and discretion he was by this time -well aware, and whom he had bound to himself for life by a more -valuable present than any one else was at all likely to bestow.</p> - -<p class="normal">What matters it what he said? It would be strangely uninteresting to -others, though his words caused many an emotion in her to whom they -were addressed, and sprang from many an emotion in his own heart. He -sketched eager plans of future meeting; he proposed schemes for -evading the strictness and severity of the lady Francesca, whom -neither of them knew; he arranged the means of communication when the -king's forward march should prevent the possibility of any personal -intercourse.</p> - -<p class="normal">Vain! vain! as every scheme of man regarding the future. Fate stands -behind the door and laughs while lovers lay their plots. Half the -schemes of Lorenzo were needless, and the other half proved -impracticable.</p> - -<p class="normal">The cardinal detained them but a short time, and when he returned -Lorenzo found he had been throwing away stratagems.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Haste! hand the dear child from her litter," he said, "and both of -you come with me. Mona Francesca agrees to receive and protect her as -her own child, provided you will give her the security of a French -guard; for she mightily fears the Swiss and the Gascons. I have -assured her that you will leave twenty men here for the present, and -that I will obtain the consent of King Charles to your being quartered -with all your troops in the court and the lower story; the men must be -quartered somewhere, you know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Certainly," replied Lorenzo, with almost too much readiness, "and why -not here--if it be the wish of your Eminence--as well as elsewhere?"</p> - -<p class="normal">While speaking he advanced to the side of the litter, and aided -Leonora to descend. She was somewhat paler than usual, for the feeling -of being in a strange city, occupied suddenly by foreign troops, upon -whom there was no knowing how soon a fierce and active population -might rise, was more terrible to her than even the sight of actual -war.</p> - -<p class="normal">Expectation almost always goes beyond reality both in its fears and in -its hopes. It is uncertainty which gives its sting to dread. The -cardinal, however, took her by the hand and led her into the -court-yard, where a few old men and two or three younger, but perhaps -not more serviceable persons, were assembled in arms, and turning -sharp to the right ascended the great staircase to the principal -apartments of the palace. A magnificent hall and several large saloons -intervened between the first landing and the smaller cabinet in which -Mona Francesca awaited her visitors.</p> - -<p class="normal">What a different personage presented herself at length to the eyes of -Leonora and Lorenzo from that which either had expected to behold.</p> - -<p class="normal">The one had pictured her distant cousin as a tall, thin, acerb-looking -Madonna, more fitted for the cloister than the world. The other had -figured her as a portly commanding dame, to whose behests all were to -bow obsequiously. But there sat the future guardian of Leonora, the -picture of good-humoured indolence. The remains of a very beautiful -face, a countenance rather sweet than firm, a figure which might have -once been pretty, but which was now approaching the obese, a pretty -foot stretched out from beneath her dress, with fine hair and teeth, -made up almost altogether the sum of Mona Francesca. She had been for -ten years a virtuous wife. She had been for twelve or thirteen years a -discreet and virtuous widow. She loved her ease and her independence -too well to risk again matrimony, once tried, and with some feelings -of devotion, and a good deal both of time and money to spare, she had -gained with the clergy and with the religious orders of Florence -almost the character of a saint--by doing nothing either wrong or -right.</p> - -<p class="normal">She welcomed Leonora kindly, and perhaps none the less that she was -accompanied by a young and handsome cavalier,--for though her -weaknesses never deviated into indiscretions, he had a great taste for -the beautiful, and was a true connoisseur of masculine beauty. She -made Leonora sit beside her, and gave Lorenzo her jewelled hand to -kiss, entering with him at once into a conversation which might have -been long, had not the impatient cardinal interfered.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well," he exclaimed, "you can talk with him about all that -hereafter. You will have plenty of time. At present we must follow the -king to the Podesta."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay," cried Mona Francesca. "Do not forget he is to leave -twenty men on guard. Ah! I fear those dreadful Frenchmen terribly! -They tell me the widows suffered more than any at Vivizano."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I doubt it," said the cardinal; but Lorenzo consoled her, by assuring -her that twenty men should certainly be left to protect her, without -adding that they were all those dreadful Frenchmen whom she seemed to -fear so much; and then followed the cardinal to the court-yard, where -his arrangements were soon made. A French ensign was hung out above -the great gate, a couple of soldiers stationed on guard in the street, -and a sufficient force left within to ensure the safety of the place -against any body of those licentious stragglers which followed all -armies in those days in even greater numbers than they do at present.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meantime the cardinal had ridden on, accompanied by his own -train; and Lorenzo followed, guiding his men himself through the -well-remembered streets, where so much of his own young life had been -spent. It was not without some uneasiness that he marked the aspect of -the city. There was many a sign, or rather many an indication that -though the Florentines had admitted the army of the King of France -within their walls, they were prepared to resist even in their own -streets, any attempt at tyrannical domination. Few persons appeared -out of shelter of the houses, and those few were well armed. But the -multitudes of faces at the windows, and the glance of steel at every -door that happened even to be partly open, showed a state of -preparation equal to the occasion, and the youth, calculating the -chances of a struggle between the army and the population of the city, -should a conflict arise, could not but come to the conclusion that, -shut up in streets and squares of which they knew nothing, surrounded -by houses, every one of which was a fortress, and opposed by a body -vastly more numerous, the French force might find all its military -skill and discipline unavailing, and have cause to rue the rash -confidence of the king.</p> - -<p class="normal">Just as he was entering upon that great square, near which are -collected so many inestimable treasures of art, a man fully armed, -started forth from a gateway, and laid his hand upon his horse's rein. -Lorenzo laid his hand upon his sword; but the other without raising -his visor, addressed him by name in a stern voice: "I little thought -to see you here, with a foreign invader, Lorenzo Visconti," he said, -"but mark me, and let your king know. Florence will be trodden down by -no foreign despot. Let him be moderate in his demands, calm and -peaceful in his demeanour, or he will leave his last man in these -streets should we all perish in resisting insolence or tyranny. Look -around you as you go, and you will see that every house is filled with -our citizens or peasantry; and though willing to concede much for -peace, we are ready to dare all for liberty. Let this be enough -between us. Ride on, and ride fast, for on this very moment hangs a -destiny. At the first sound of the bell, a conflict will begin that -will seal the fate of Italy. Ride on, I say. You know our customs. -Take care that the bell does not ring."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who are you? What is your name?" asked Lorenzo; but the man made no -reply, and retreated under the archway whence he had come.</p> - -<p class="normal">Winding through the crowds which occupied the Piazza, the young knight -and his party overtook the cardinal just as he was dismounting at the -gates of the great heavy building, known as the Podesta; and springing -to his stirrup, Lorenzo in a whisper communicated to him rapidly the -fears he entertained of some sudden and terrible conflict between the -citizens and the French soldiery, should the demands of the king be -excessive or tyrannical.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is right his Majesty should know the state of the city," he said; -"and if I can obtain speech of him, he shall know it; for no one can -judge of the signs around us better than myself, whose boyhood has -been passed in these streets and squares."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall have speech of him," said the cardinal, "follow me quickly. -They must be at it already. Where is the king, boy?--where is the -council?"</p> - -<p class="normal">A page whom he addressed led him up the great staircase, and hurrying -his pace, he was soon in that great council chamber where the fate of -Florence had been so often decided.</p> - -<p class="normal">The scene it now presented was very striking. The King of France was -seated in a chair of state, with many of his officers and counsellors -around, and the Bishop of St. Malo standing at his left hand. Before -him stood a number of the magistrates of Florence, richly robed, and -on the faces of all present might be seen a sharp and angry -expression, as if some bitter words had been already passing. The room -was crowded; but as the cardinal and Lorenzo entered, they could see -the Bishop of St. Malo take a step across the open space between the -king and the magistrates, and hand a written paper to one of the -latter, on whose face the very first words brought a heavy frown.</p> - -<p class="normal">Holding Lorenzo by the hand, Julian de Rovera pushed his way through -the crowd, murmuring, "God send we be not too late," and at length -reached the monarch's side, where he bent his head to the king's ear, -saying abruptly, "This young man has matter of life and death to -communicate to you, sire. Listen to him for a moment ere you do aught -else."</p> - -<p class="normal">The king raised his eyes to Lorenzo's face, and then inclined his ear, -making the young man a sign to speak.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord," said Lorenzo in a whisper, "no one about you knows Florence -as well as I do. You and your army are on the brink of a volcano. The -houses all around are filled with armed men. Not only are the citizens -prepared to rise at a moment's notice, but the town has been crowded -with the neighbouring peasantry, and although your Majesty is in full -possession of the town, a conflict in these streets might be more -disastrous than can be told."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hark," said the king, "the old man is speaking;" and, raising his -head, he gazed upon the magistrate who had been reading the paper.</p> - -<p class="normal">"King of France," said the old man, in a fierce and impetuous tone, -"these demands are outrageous. They are insulting to the people of -Florence; and thus I deal with them;" and as he spoke he tore the -paper in pieces and flung the fragments on the floor. "I tell you, -sire," he continued, "that nothing like these terms will be granted. -Our course is taken; our minds are made up. We were all willing to pay -you due respect,--to grant all that might be requisite for your -security, or to assist you for your comfort. But we will not be -treated as a conquered people till we are conquered; and, even then, -we will be the slaves of no man. Either propose terms in reason, or -else--why, sound your trumpets and we will toll our bells, and on him -who is the aggressor fall the guilt of all the blood which will dye -our streets."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good God! the man is mad," exclaimed one of the king's councillors.</p> - -<p class="normal">"<i>Mère de Dieu!</i>" cried another, "he has had the insolence to tear the -edict!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We are ready to obey your Majesty's commands," said the stern -Montpensier, in a cold tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I go to take orders against an outbreak, sire," said La Tremouille, -in a low voice, "it is not to be concealed that we are in a somewhat -dangerous position here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sire, you had better get out of the rat-trap," said De Vitry, "I will -guard you with my men-at-arms, and keep one gate open for the rest to -follow. My head for your safety; and once out we shall soon bring -these gentlemen to reason."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Peace," said the king, "peace, my friends. Let me speak.--You have -done wrong, sir, to tear that paper," he continued with an air of much -dignity, addressing the bold old man. "We had not read it ourselves. -It was far from our intention to demand any outrageous terms; but only -such as a republic might expect who had refused our friendship and set -at nought our proffers of alliance. Hastily drawn up by our council, -and tendered to you here more as an outline of what might be our -demands than as what they actually are, the paper may have contained -something you could not comply with, but nothing to warrant so much -heat, I think. Have you a copy, my Lord Bishop?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here is one, sire," replied the minister, handing him a paper.</p> - -<p class="normal">The king took it and read it with slowness and evident difficulty. -"This is too much," he said when he had done, "Signor Pierro Capponi -has some show of reason for his anger. My Lord Bishop, these terms -must be mitigated. I will retire to another chamber and leave you with -the magistrates of the city to decide upon some more equitable -arrangement, with his Eminence here to moderate between you. What I -demand is that compensation shall be made in gold for the expense and -delay to which I have been subjected by the resistance of strong -places in a country professing to be friendly to me; and that -sufficient security be given that my return to France, when it pleases -me, shall not be interrupted. Your council had better be held in -private. There are too many persons present. Let all but my council -and the Signoria of Florence follow me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he rose and left the hall.</p> - -<p class="normal">The result is well known. A large sum of money, part of which found -its way into the purses of the king's counsellors, and vague promises -of alliance and security, were all that the Florentines had to pay; -and the lesson of the morning was sufficiently impressive to produce -better discipline and forbearance amongst the French troops than they -had exercised elsewhere.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">On, those days of happiness, how soon they come to an end! -Poets and -philosophers have attempted in vain to convey to the mind by figures -and by argument the brevity of enjoyment, and the great master only -came near the truth when he declared it was--</p> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:10pt"> -<pre> - - "Brief as the lightning in the collied night, - That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth, - And ere a man hath power to say--Behold! - The jaws of darkness do devour it up." - -</pre> -</div> -<p class="normal">Enjoyment is the most brief of all things, for its very nature is to -destroy time. Like the fabled monster of one of the Indian tribes--we -drink up the waters in which we float, and leave ourselves at last on -a dry and arid shore. But if enjoyment be so transient, hope is -permanent. Well did the ancients represent her as lingering behind -after all else had flown out of the casket of Pandora. She does linger -still in the casket of every human heart, whether it be joys or evils -that pass away.</p> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:10pt"> -<pre> - - "Quando il miser dispera - La speranza parla e dice, - Sta su, tienti, vivi, e spera - Che sarai ancor felice. - - * * * * - - "Ogni casa al mondo manca - La speranza mai si perde." - -</pre> -</div> -<p class="normal">So sang Serafino l'Aquilano, a poet of the days of Lorenzo and -Leonora, and for a time at least they found the song true.</p> - -<p class="normal">Hope remained after happiness had passed; but yet how bright were -those days and nights of happiness which the two young lovers passed -in Florence!</p> - -<p class="normal">Are you old enough to have forgotten, reader, how, in your early -youth, you deified the object of your love? How her very presence -seemed to spread an atmosphere of joy around her? How her look was -sunshine and her voice the song of a seraph? Can you remember it? Then -think what must have been the feelings of Lorenzo Visconti and -Leonora d'Orco, at an age when the fire of passion is the brightest, -because the purest--where all those attributes of beauty, and -grace, and excellence with which imagination is wont to invest the -beloved objects were really present, and when the fancy of the heart -spread her wings from a higher point than she commonly can find on -earth. Think what must have been their feelings when in a lovely -climate, amidst beautiful scenes, in a land of song, where the -treasures of ancient and of modern art were just beginning to unfold -themselves--the one issuing from the darkness of the past, the other -dawning through the twilight of the future; think what must have been -their feelings, when, in such scenes and with such accessories to the -loving loveliness in their own hearts, they were suffered, almost -unrestrained, to enjoy each other's society to the full, when and -where they liked.</p> - -<p class="normal">The old cardinal, plunged deep in politics and worldly schemes and -passions, took little heed of them. Mona Francesca was no restraint -upon them. Sometimes in long rambles by the banks of the Arno, -sometimes mingling with the gay masked multitudes that thronged the -streets on the clear soft autumnal nights, sometimes seated in the -beautiful gardens of the city of flowers, sometimes reposing in the -luxurious apartments of the Casa Morelli, the days and greater part of -the nights were passed during the stay of the French army in Florence. -It was a dream of joy, and it passed as a dream.</p> - -<p class="normal">Gradually, however, the shadow stole over the sunshine. The day for -the march was named, and came nearer and nearer. Lorenzo had to go on, -fighting his way with the forces of the king; Leonora was to remain -behind in Florence. They were to part, in short; and the sorrow of -parting came upon them. But then there was hope--hope singing her -eternal song of cheering melody, picturing the coming time when a -bright reunion would wipe out the very memory of sorrow, and when, -perhaps, the link of their fate might be riveted too firmly for any -future separation. The old cardinal encouraged the idea, and promised -to give the blessing on their union, and Mona Francesca sighed, and -thought, perhaps, matrimony the next happiest state to widowhood.</p> - -<p class="normal">The day came: the last parting embrace was given--the last, long -clinging kiss was taken--the last wave of the hand, as the troop filed -down the street, and then Leonora d'Orco was left to the solitude of -her own thoughts. The multitude of turbulent emotions which had -thrilled through her heart were all still. It was as when a gay crowd -that has been laughing, and singing, and revelling, suddenly departs -and leaves the scene of rejoicing all silent and solitary. The words -of Leonardo da Vinci's song came back to her mind--</p> - -<p class="center">"Oft have I wept for joys too soon possessed!"</p> - -<p class="continue">And retiring to her own chamber she gave way to very natural tears. -Nor were they soon over, nor was the emotion in which they arose -transient. Nothing was evanescent in the character of Leonora d'Orco. -Even young as she was, all was deep, strong, and permanent.</p> - -<p class="normal">But I must leave her alone for the present with her tears, or with the -sadness that followed them, and proceed with Lorenzo Visconti on the -march towards Rome and Naples; not that I intend to dwell upon battles -or sieges, intrigues or negotiations; but I merely purpose to give a -slight sketch of the historical events that followed, with one or two -detached scenes more in detail, where public transactions affected the -fate of those of whom I write. With audacity bordering upon folly, -Charles VIII. advanced rapidly upon Rome, without having taken any -efficient steps to guard his communications with France. Each step -rendered his position more perilous, and had there been anything like -unity amongst the Italian princes or states it is probable that -neither the King of France nor his gallant army would ever have seen -Paris again. The pope, too, thundered at him from the Vatican, -admitted Neapolitan troops into Rome, and endeavoured to raise the -partisans of the Church in the imperial city, to aid him in repelling -the advancing enemy. But Alexander found no support. No one loved, no -one respected him, and his call upon the citizens was made in vain. -On, step by step, the French monarch advanced, but, as he neared the -city, which had once been the capital of the world, a degree of -uncertainty came over him, and discord manifested itself in his -council. The Cardinal of St. Peter's urged him strongly to depose the -monster whose brow defiled the tiara; several other bishops and -cardinals joined in the demand. Some of the stern old military men, -too, argued on the same side, but the smooth Bishop of St. Malo and -many of the king's lay-counsellors recommended negotiation; advised -that the march of the army should be retarded or stopped, and that -skilful diplomatists should be sent forward to treat for peaceful -admission into Rome.</p> - -<p class="normal">An eminent position is a curse for the weak, and a peril for the -strong. Till we can see into the hearts of men, no king can ever know -the secret motives, the dark selfishness, the pitiful objects, the -vain, the mercenary, the ambitious ends which lie at the bottom of all -the advice, and every suggestion they receive. We see the honest and -the true neglected; we see the noble and the wise make shipwreck, and -we know not whence it comes. The man who would map out the currents of -the ocean would confer a signal benefit upon his race and accomplish a -most laborious task; but he who would trace and expose all the -under-currents of a court would undertake a more herculean enterprise -still. Nor can the wisest and the best of those who rule the destinies -of men escape such pernicious influences. They can but judge by what -they see, while it is what they do not see which is bearing them -wrong. They may consult the magnet or the pole-star; they may reckon -closely and well, but they can neither calculate nor perceive those -undercurrents which are bearing them upon the shoals or rocks of -injustice or of danger. Nor are they in most cases to blame. Suffice -it, if in regard to great and plain facts where there can be no -deceit, their unassisted judgment leads them right. I myself, -accustomed to courts, have seen the wisest, the very firmest of men -misled to do small acts of wrong to their most deserving of friends. -Could I blame them even if I myself suffered? Oh, no! The whispered -word, the well-improved opportunity, the casual insinuation--all the -arts which the noble will not stoop to practise, are engines in the -hands of the crafty, which will blind the clearest eye, deceive the -most perspicacious mind.</p> - -<p class="normal">How much more allowance should be made for a young, inexperienced, and -half-educated monarch like Charles VIII. if he did not discover that -the hope of a cardinal but swayed Breconnel in his advice; that this -counsellor had been promised a sum of money; or that had hopes of a -castle or an estate in Romagna; that one aimed at being prothonotary; -or another an archdeacon of the Roman hierarchy. All these things were -going on in his court and camp, and all these influenced the advice he -received; but how could he know it?</p> - -<p class="normal">The party of the negotiators succeeded. Charles sent envoys into Rome. -to treat with Alexander. They went away full of confidence; they told -the king that in a few days they would return with all the -stipulations he required, assented to. What was his surprise to hear -that his envoys had been arrested, two thrown into prison, and two -given up to the Neapolitan troops which were in the city.</p> - -<p class="normal">Rage and indignation took possession of him, and he gave orders that -the army should march the next morning; but there were still peaceful -counsellors near at hand; the march was put off till next day, and -before that hour the news arrived that two of the envoys had been set -free. Two, however, were still detained, and the further advance of -the army began.</p> - -<p class="normal">Still Alexander vacillated and hesitated, now giving way to bursts of -furious passion, now yielding to immoderate terror; but that -vacillation had now to give way. A military envoy appeared at the -court of the sovereign pontiff, and with very little ceremony -delivered his message in the presence of Ferdinand, the young prince -of Naples, who stood at Alexander's right hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What have you to say, Signor de Vitry?" asked the pope, affecting a -tone of calmness which he was far from feeling.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Merely this, Holiness," answered Vitry, "the army of my Sovereign -Lord the King of France is within an hour's march of the walls; he -desires to know if you are prepared to receive him within them. The -day is nearly spent; he will have no time to force the gates to-night, -and the men must be lodged somewhere."</p> - -<p class="normal">Alexander trembled--partly, perhaps, with rage, but certainly with -fear also. He looked to the Prince of Naples; he looked to his son, -the Cardinal Borgia, upon whose handsome lips there was a sort of -serpent smile; but no one ventured to utter one word of advice, till -Ramiro d'Orco slowly approached his chair, and spoke a few words in a -low tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," said the pontiff, "tell the King of France, that I will not -oppose his entrance. The Church does not seek to drive even her -disobedient children to sacrilege. For myself, I will make no -treaty--no stipulation with one who can disregard the repeated -injunctions he has received. But for this young prince and his forces -I demand a safe conduct."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not for me, your Holiness," said Ferdinand, raising his head proudly. -"I need none. My sword is my safe conduct, and I will have no other."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then my errand is sped," said De Vitry. "I understand there will be -no opposition to the king's entrance?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The pontiff bowed his head with the single word, "None," and the envoy -retired from his presence and from the city.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And now to St. Angelo with all speed," cried Alexander. "Quick, -Burchard, quick. Let all the valuables be gathered together and -carried to the castle. Come, Cæsar--come, my son, and bring all the -men you can find with you. The place is well provisioned already;" and -he left the room without bestowing another word upon the young Prince -of Naples.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand paused a moment in deep thought, and then, with a heavy -sigh, quitted the Vatican. Half an hour after he marched out of Rome -at the head of a few thousand men, and beheld, by the fading light, -the splendid host of the king who was marching to strip his father -and himself of their dominions, winding onward--like a glittering -snake--towards the gates of Rome.</p> - -<p class="normal">Here, as at Florence, the fouriers and harbingers of the monarch rode -on before the rest of the army, and passed rapidly through the ancient -streets filled with the memories of so many ages, marking out quarters -for the troops and lodgings for the king and his court. They took no -heed to triumphal arch, or broken statue, or ruined amphitheatre; but -they marked the faces of the populace who thronged the streets and -gathered thickly at the gates, and they saw a very different -expression on those countenances from that which had appeared amongst -the Tuscans. To the Romans Charles came as a deliverer, and an -occasional shout of gratulation burst from the people as the strange -horsemen passed. Hasty preparations only could be made, for the royal -army was close behind, and just after sunset on the last day of the -year 1494, the French army reached the gates of Rome. Those gates were -thrown wide open; and shout after shout burst from the multitude as -the men-at-arms poured in. Charles himself was at their head, armed -cap-à-pie; "with his lance upon his thigh," says an eye-witness, "as -if prepared for battle." The drums beat, the trumpet sounded; and -every tenth man of the army carried a torch casting its red glare upon -the dazzling arms and gorgeous surcoats of the cavalry, and upon the -eager but joyous faces round. Shout after shout burst from the -multitude; and thus, as a conqueror, Charles entered Rome.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Rome, still grand even in her ruin, was in the hands of -Charles of -France. He had never in his life seen a stroke stricken in actual -warfare, except at the insignificant town of Vivizano; he had never -made a conquest more important than that of a village, nor obtained a -victory over more than a score or two of men, and yet he felt himself -almost on a par with Charlemagne when he stood in Rome exercising all -the powers of an emperor. "He suited his corps de gardes and placed -his sentinels in the squares of the noble city," says Old Brantome, -"with many rounds and patrols, planted his courts of justice with -gallowses and whipping-posts in five or six places; requisitions were -made in his name; his edicts and ordonnances were cried and published -with the sound of the trumpet as in Paris. Go find me a King of France -who has ever done such things, except Charlemagne; and even he, I -think, proceeded not with an authority so proud and imperious."</p> - -<p class="normal">The morning dawned and found Charles in possession, full and entire, -of all Rome, except the Castle of St. Angelo; and what is of more -importance than the mere fact of being in full possession, he was so -with the cordial assent of the whole Roman people. They had groaned -under oppression and wrong for years, and the very fact that the -oppression was exercised by the most despicable of men, had driven the -iron deeper into their souls. Any change was to them a deliverance; -and so strongly was this felt, that when at daybreak some women stood -to gaze at the corpse of a robber who had been caught and hanged by -his provosts in the night, they shrugged their shoulders, with a -laugh, saying, "No more robbers now."</p> - -<p class="normal">Not long after that early hour, and not far from the spot where some -of the orations of Cicero were poured to the admiring people, a young -gentleman, in the garb of peace, but with sword by his side and dagger -in his girdle, walked slowly up and down, as if waiting for some one, -and presently after a small man, in a monk's gown, whom Lorenzo had -once seen before, came up, and saluting him led him away in the -direction of some buildings, at that time appropriated to the use of -distinguished visitors or great favourites of the Papal Court.</p> - -<p class="normal">They were not unwatched, however; for from behind an old column which -stood there not many years ago--it may stand there still for aught I -know--glided out the figure of our friend Antonio, and followed them -at some distance, keeping in the deep shade cast by the rising sun -upon the eastern side of the street. His keen sharp eye was fixed upon -them with a suspicious and even anxious look; "By my faith," he said, -"good old Master Esopas was right when he warned us not to warm -vipers. I fear me still that one which I helped to save when he was -tolerably well frost-bitten, will some day turn and bite me, or, what -is worse, bite young Lorenzo. Perhaps I had better warn his youthful -knighthood. He is mighty docile for a young man, and will take a hint -from me. But then he knows I love him, and that is the secret of it, I -do believe; for love's a rarity as this world goes, and, poor boy, -having neither father nor mother, who is there to love him but -Antonio. By Hercules! I had forgotten the signorina. I am half jealous -of the girl, and the only way I can manage to escape being so quite is -to love her myself. Ha! they are stopping at that gate; Ramiro lodges -there for a score of ducats. Well, well, I will even go in after them, -and have a chat with my friend the friar. It is well the holy man -should know that he has an intimate acquaintance near."</p> - -<p class="normal">By this time Lorenzo and the monk had disappeared under the archway -and ascended a staircase on the right. It was dirty and dark enough, -but the door at the top led into a suite of rooms of almost regal -splendour and oriental luxury. The first and the second chambers were -vacant; but in the third Ramiro d'Orco was walking up and down with -slow steps, and his stern, thoughtful eyes bent upon the ground. It is -probable that he had heard the step of Lorenzo from his first -entrance; but he was one of those men who never show emotion of any -kind, whatever they may feel--men who are never known to start; and it -was not till the young man and the friar were quite near that he even -looked up.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Welcome to Rome, Lorenzo," he said, without embracing him as most -Italians would have done, or giving him his hand as an Englishman -would not have failed to do. "Friar, you may leave us, and do not let -us be interrupted. Sit, Lorenzo, sit! Will you rest on that pile of -cushions or on that stuffed dais--stuffed with the inner down of some -strange northern bird?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank you, Signor d'Orco," replied Lorenzo, "but I have been lately -taught to sit and lie hard enough. You have, indeed, every sort of -luxury here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not call them mine," said Ramiro, with a bitter smile. "They -belong to my landlord, the holy and noble Cardinal Borgia. Men propose -to themselves different objects in life, young sir. Some judge our -short space here was given only for enjoyment; others, again, think it -should be a time of active enterprise; one man seeks glory; another -power; another wealth. They mostly imagine that they are only, in -every object, seeking a means to an end--the covetous will enjoy his -wealth hereafter--the ambitious only desires power to benefit his -friends or crush his enemies--but they deceive themselves. Only Cæsar -Borgia and I admit the naked truth. He says enjoyment in life. I say -ambition is enjoyment. But an ambitious man must not sit on soft -stools. There is my common seat," and he drew towards him an old -wooden chair of the rudest and most uneasy form.</p> - -<p class="normal">"So," he continued abruptly, after they were seated, "you have not -brought Leonora with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, the matter was decided without me," replied Lorenzo; "the -Cardinal of St. Peter's, your near relation, judged that this was not -a fit place for her: but I will not conceal from you that I should -have brought her with great reluctance, though every hour of her -company is dearer to me than the jewels of a monarch's crown."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The cardinal was right, and you were right," said Ramiro d'Orco, and -plunging into thought, remained silent for several minutes, then -looking calmly up in Lorenzo's face he said, "You are not married -yet?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly not, my lord," said the young man, with his cheek somewhat -burning from a consciousness of thoughts--nay, of wishes, if not -purposes--which had come and gone in his own heart. "You gave your -consent to our betrothal, but not to our marriage."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ramiro d'Orco's eye had been fixed upon him with a cold steadfast gaze -while he spoke, and the colour in his cheek still deepened.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have placed great confidence in you, Lorenzo Visconti," said -Leonora's father. "I do not believe you would abuse it. I do not -believe you would wrong her or wrong me. See that you do not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am incapable of doing either, Signor Ramiro," replied Lorenzo, -boldly. "I may sometimes have thought for a brief moment, that the -only mode of removing some difficulties that presented themselves to -us, was to take your consent for granted and unite my fate to hers by -a tie which would give me a right both to direct and protect her; but -the half-formed purpose was always barred by remembrance of the trust -you had reposed in me; and Leonora herself can testify that I never -even hinted at such a course."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ramiro d'Orco again paused in silence for a moment, and then said, -"Lorenzo Visconti, I have loved you well from causes that you know -not. Listen for a moment; there are some men who are so formed that a -kindness received or a wrong endured is never forgotten. They are -perhaps not the best men in the world's opinion, they have their -faults, their frailties; they may commit sins, nay crimes, according -to the world's estimation---they may be considered cold, selfish, -unprincipled; but the waters of these men's hearts have in them a -petrifying power which preserves for ever the memories of other men's -acts towards them. They cannot forgive, nor forget, nor forbear like -other men. A kind word spoken, a good act done towards them in times -of difficulty or danger will be remembered for years--ay, for long -years--twenty? more than that; and a wrong inflicted will equally cut -into the memory and will have its results, when he who perpetrated -will himself have forgotten it. I am one of those men, Lorenzo; and, -though I speak not often of myself, I would have you know it. But let -us talk of other things," he added in a less severe and serious tone. -"Now tell me truly, did you not think when I told Leonora to come on -to Rome, that I had changed my purposes towards yourself, or that, at -least, they were shaken; that some more wealthy match presented -itself, or some ambitious object led me to withdraw my approbation of -your suit? You doubted, you feared--was it not so?"</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke another person entered the room with a gliding but stately -step. He was dressed richly in a morning robe of precious furs, and -his remarkably handsome person was set off to every advantage by the -arrangement of the hair, the beard, and the garb. Ramiro d'Orco only -noticed his coming by rising and inclining his head, while the other -cast himself gracefully down upon the pile of cushions, and began to -eat some confections which he took from a small golden box.</p> - -<p class="normal">Almost without pause, Ramiro proceeded: "Did you not think so? You -were wrong, Lorenzo, if you did. I have consented to your marriage -with my daughter, I wish your marriage with her. I here, in the -presence of this noble prince, give my full consent, and had you -brought her on here, I would have joined your hands ere you go hence. -But it is well as it is. And now let us again to other objects; my -lord cardinal, your Eminence wished to see my young friend here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is very handsome," said Cæsar Borgia; for he it was who lay upon -the cushions. "He is very handsome, and I am told that the Signora -Leonora is very beautiful, too--nay, a marvel of loveliness--is it not -so?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In my eyes certainly," said Lorenzo drily, for there was something in -the tone of the man he did not like.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Marry her soon--marry her soon," said Cæsar Borgia, "a peach should -always be tasted ere it is too ripe. I envy you your privileges, sir. -I who am bound to a sour life of celibacy, may well think you happy -who are free and blessed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo rose and raised his bonnet from the floor where he had cast -it, as if to depart.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay," said Ramiro d'Orco, "these French-bred gentlemen, my -lord cardinal, are very touchy upon some points. They understand no -jests where their lady loves are concerned. We in Italy, and -especially you in Rome, are somewhat too light-tongued upon such -matters."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, let us talk of other things," cried Borgia, starting up -with a look entirely changed, the soft, indolent, almost effeminate -expression gone, the eye fiery and the lips stern and grim. "You are -right, Ramiro: we are too light-tongued in such matters. I meant -not to offend you, sir, but as yet you are unaccustomed to our -manners here. I wished to see and speak with you from the reports -I have heard of you. You have, I think, served the King of France -well---marvellously well for one so young. I have heard of your doings -at Vivizano, and I have heard moreover that you are high in the -personal esteem of Charles of France himself. Nay, more, it seems, by -what means I know not, but they must be extraordinary, for scripture -says the deaf adder stoppeth her ears and will not heart she voice of -the charmer--it seems, I say, that by some means, you have won the -confidence of Julian of Rovera, an enemy of me and of my father's -house. With both this cardinal and this king you must have -opportunities of private communication."</p> - -<p class="normal">He kept his eye fixed upon Lorenzo's face while he spoke, marking -every change of expression, and probably adapting his discourse to all -he saw there; for no man was ever more terribly endowed with that -serpent power of persuasion which bends and alters the wills and -opinions of others, not by opposing force to force, but by instilling -our thoughts in the garb of theirs into the minds of even our -opponents. By that power how many did he bring to destruction, how -many did he lure to death!</p> - -<p class="normal">"I wish not," he continued, "to lead you to do or say aught that can -be prejudicial to the King of France. I know that you are incapable of -it; but it is for that very reason I have desired to see you. I seek -no communication with those whom I can buy, and who the day after will -sell themselves to another. I desire to address myself to one eager to -serve his lord, and who will dare to tell him the truth, even if it be -first spoken by the mouth of an enemy. Such a man I believe you to be, -Signor Visconti, and therefore I sought this interview. Now, sir, King -Charles is surrounded with men who will not let the truth reach his -ears. You may ask why? what is their object? I will tell you. They -have Rome in their power. My father, it is true, is safe up there--but -still Rome is theirs; and, if they can but prevail upon the King of -France, by false statements--by cunning persuasions--by the -suppression or distortion of facts--to use his advantage ungenerously, -they calculate upon forcing his Holiness to buy them wholesale. Ay, -buy them, sir; for there are not two in all the king's council who -cannot be bought--by benefices, by gold, by estates, by dignities. -This is the reason they keep the truth from the monarch's mind; for -they well know that, if his position and his duties were once clearly -stated to him, full peace and alliance would soon be re-established -between the crown of France and the Holy See; and they would be -deprived of the power of extracting from my father the last ducat in -his treasury, the last benefice in his gift. Do you understand me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Methinks I do," answered Lorenzo, who had seen good reason to believe -that Borgia's view of the characters of the French counsellors was not -far from the truth. "But what is it, your Eminence, that the King of -France should know that he does not know? He has about his person many -a clear-sighted military man who is competent to perceive the truth -and too honest to conceal it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not exactly, my young friend," replied the cardinal; "the truth is -not always so easy a thing to find as you imagine. The negotiators, at -all events, have the king's ear--civilians or ecclesiastics--all. We -know not that these military friends of yours have discovered the -whole truth; or, if they have, that they have revealed it. Now, what I -wish is, that you--you, Lorenzo Visconti, should learn the whole -truth, and should seize the very first opportunity of telling it to -the king. I will give you a correct and accurate statement of the true -position of affairs--at least, as I see them. If I am wrong, your own -clear mind will detect the error: for, of course, though I cannot -pretend to speak without some prejudice, you can have none. An Italian -by birth--about to wed an Italian lady, many of your sympathies must -be with us, while gratitude and education afford a fair counterpoise -in favour of France. But listen to my statement."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then went on with the most skilful and artful, but apparently the -most unpremeditated eloquence, to set before the young knight a -totally different view of the questions between Alexander and the King -of France. He dwelt long and severely upon the scandal to all -Christendom exhibited by the eldest son of the Church--a title of -which French monarchs had ever been proud--forcing his way into the -holy city, contrary to the repeated injunctions of the Church's head. -He asked if it were the part of one who pretended and hoped to drive -back the wave of Mahomedan invasion from Europe and plant the Cross -itself in Constantinople, to commence his enterprise by setting at -nought the power and authority of the Vicar of Christ, driving him -from his home to take refuge in a fortress, to despoil him of his -means, and to trample on his dignity. "They speak ill of his Holiness, -indeed," continued Borgia, "they calumniate him and misrepresent all -that he does. Let us even admit, however, all that they say against -him, that he has the passions which afflict all men of ardent -temperaments--that he has at times indulged the propensities common to -all men--that he has done openly, in short, and without hypocrisy, all -that his predecessors have done covertly and hypocritically--that he -calls his son his son, and not his nephew--never forgetting, however, -that all these faults occurred before his elevation to the holy see; -but granting all, admitting every charge, I will ask you, Lorenzo, if -these faults of the man, which affect not the holy office, are so -great a scandal to the Church as to see the first of--I had almost -said pretended--the first of Christian monarchs set at nought the -authority, oppress the person, and plunder the property of the -representative of the apostles? But I have dwelt too long upon this -aspect of the question. Perhaps it does not affect you; it may not -affect the King of France, and I did not intend to speak of it at -length. I meant to deal with the political view of the case--of that -which touches the king's material interests, and I now turn to that."</p> - -<p class="normal">The bright, comprehensive, and sagacious picture which he now drew of -the actual position and future prospects of the King of France, was -perhaps unequalled by any of the most splendid efforts of the man with -whom Macchiavelli himself found it hard to cope; and well might one so -young and inexperienced as Lorenzo have been carried away by his -eloquence, even if there had not been much truth in the details, much -accuracy in the reasoning. But there was far more of both than of -falsehood or rhetoric. He stripped the position of the King of France -from its fictitious splendour: he painted him as in the midst of a -foreign country, with no communications open behind him, without a -fleet, and with an exhausted treasury, without a sincere friend in -Italy, with a resolute enemy before him, and without one faithful ally -behind. He showed and asserted he could prove that Ludovico Sforza was -busily weaving the web of a confederation against him; that the Duke -of Ferrara was already gained; that the Venetians were arming in -haste, and that Florence was eager to avenge the humiliation she had -received, by giving aid to the league; that even the Emperor and the -King of Spain, though bought off for a time by sacrifices disastrous -to France, showed signs already of wavering in their faith to the -young king, and were only true to their policy of treachery.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This splendid army will melt away," he continued, "by battle and -disease; while that of the league against you will increase every -hour. Where will you draw reinforcements? how will they reach you if -they can be raised at all? To your enemies men will flow in from every -quarter, and will find all roads open. The remnants of the great -companies will easily be gathered together, all men practised in -warfare under leaders of consummate skill. The Albanian bands of the -Venetians will sweep the country of its provisions, and put a desert -between you and France. What the sword spares, famine and pestilence -will slay, and an expedition begun with festivals and successes will -end in disaster and tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Show me where I am wrong, and I will admit it; but this, Signor -Visconti, is my view, and I give it you plainly and sincerely. Now you -may ask what I would deduce from all this?--that the King of France -should desist from his enterprise, and return with defeat and disgrace -to his own land? Far from it; I would have him push on to Naples with -all rapidity, before the plans of his enemies are mature, or their -preparations made. He may subdue that kingdom rapidly, and with the -command of the sea coast, and a new and defensible position, set his -foes at defiance till his army can be recruited and reinforced. But I -would not have him stay here and waste time, every moment of which is -precious, in trying to humble a pontiff whom he is bound to reverence, -or destroy a sovereign who is ready to be his friend. If such madness -seizes him he is lost. How much better, at no loss of honour or of -interest, but merely by that reverence for the Church, which, as a -Christian king, he is bound to show--how much better to have a -friendly power, though perhaps a weak one, between him and the enemies -in his rear!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what surety has the king that this will prove a friendly power," -asked Lorenzo, "that these Roman States--this very city will not be -armed against him as soon as he has passed on?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The pope will give him securities," said Cæsar Borgia, promptly, -although a slight shade had come over his brow while the young man -spoke. "He shall have ample guarantees; such fortresses to hold as -will ensure him against that danger; and as for myself, I care not if -I go as a hostage with his forces."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo paused, and thought without reply, and Borgia added, "Nay -more, Zizim shall be given into his hands, though perchance that act -may bring down the wrath of Bajazet upon Italy, and we may again see -our coasts ravaged by Turkish fleets."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And who is Zizim?" asked Lorenzo, in surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It matters not," replied Borgia, "but whisper that name in the king's -ear--only say you have somewhat to tell him regarding Zizim, and he -will give eager audience to all the rest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I must also tell him on what authority I speak," said Lorenzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do so!" exclaimed Cæsar Borgia, at once, "let him know that you have -seen me in company with this good lord who sits silent here, who knows -the truth of every word I speak."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do," said Ramiro d'Orco; "and moreover as you may want proof of the -corruption in the king's council you have heard of, give this small -packet, my son, to the good Bishop of St. Malo--not before you have -conferred with the king, but afterwards--not when the worthy prelate -has company around him; but when he is quite alone."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo took the small paper packet which Ramiro held out, not without -some doubts; but it contained something hard and bulky, and evidently -was not a letter, of which he might have hesitated to be the bearer. -"Well," he said, at length, "I presume, sir, that you would not put -upon me any unbecoming task. But your Eminence spoke something -regarding the Cardinal of St. Peter's. What do you desire that I -should say to him?" he continued, addressing Borgia.</p> - -<p class="normal">A sort of spasm passed over Cæsar's face, and he kept his teeth firmly -pressed together for a moment; but when he answered it was with a -calm, though stern voice, "Tell him that no cardinal who dethrones a -supreme pontiff ever becomes pope. His holy brethren know him too -well. That is all I have to say to him--and now my task is over," he -continued, throwing himself back upon the cushions, "let us taste some -wine. Will you drink, Signor Lorenzo?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The young lord excused himself, and shortly after took his leave.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Too young, I fear me," said Ramiro d'Orco, as Visconti quitted the -room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"All the better," replied Borgia, languidly, "we must work with all -kinds of tools, according to our objects, Ramiro--women, valets, boys, -wise men. A wise man would not suit me now, for he would conceal half -that he has heard. This youth will tell it all, and that is what I -desire."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">While the conversation which I have narrated in the preceding -chapter -was going on in the rooms above, one of a very different character, -though relating to the same topic, took place below. We need not be -very long detained in its detail, but there were certain parts therein -which must be related. The scene was a small room near that sort of -buttery window at which Italian nobles have in all times been -accustomed to sell or retail the produce of their estates. The -interlocutors were our friend Antonio and the pretended friar -Mardocchi, and after the first greetings, the substantial conversation -began, by the former gently reproaching him of whom he had aided to -cheat the cord, with not having visited him when in the French camp at -Vivizano.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! how did you know I was there?" asked Mardocchi. "Why, I was only -one night in all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know everything that happens within a hundred miles of me," replied -Antonio, who had discovered the great benefit of assuming more -knowledge than he possessed, "you had not been five minutes in the -camp before I knew it. But why did you not come?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have told you already," answered Mardocchi. "I was but one night in -the camp, and I got such rough usage from that old cardinal of the -devil, that I was glad to get out by daybreak."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, he has no smooth tongue, I wot," answered Antonio; "if he licks -his cubs with that when they are born, they will go into the world -skinless. But how liked the excellent Signor Ramiro the answer he got -to his letter?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know little of his liking," answered the other. "He is not like my -good deceased lord, Buondoni, who would tell me this or that, or swear -or stamp in my presence as if there were no one there but himself. -This man keeps all, or thinks he keeps all, to himself; but one thing -I have found out, and that I like him for, because in that he is like -myself. If a man does him a good turn he never forgets it; and if a -man does him an injury he does not forget that either."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I suppose not," replied Antonio, "he is a good lord in many things, -and all the wiser for keeping his secrets to himself. In all the world -he cannot find any one who can keep them as well. Then he did not show -any anger when he found the Signora Leonora was not coming?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not a whit," answered Mardocchi; "he only said, 'it is well; it is -very well.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">The conversation was then turned to other subjects by Antonio -demanding if his companion did not think that the Signor Ramiro had -laid his egg in a wrong nest when he attached himself to the Borgias.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not at all," answered Mardocchi; "they are men who are not afraid of -doing anything; if one way does not answer they take another; and such -men are sure to succeed."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then went on to give his view of the situation of the Pope and the -King of France, to which Antonio, who had come for the purpose of -learning all he could, listened attentively. It was somewhat different -from the view of Cæsar Borgia, and to say the truth, somewhat more -extended; for he contemplated amongst the pope's resources both poison -and the dagger. Indeed he had not studied under Buondoni without -improvement; for he clearly showed Antonio that it would be perfectly -possible to destroy almost all the king's army in Rome by poisoning -the wells.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, good Heaven! you would poison all the people likewise!" cried -Antonio.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And no great harm either," said Mardocchi, gruffly: "did you not -hear how the beasts last night were cheering and vivaing those French -heretics? But if the Holy Father in his mercy chose to spare them, he -could easily do it by sending the monks and priests amongst them to -tell them which wells were poisoned and which not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I forgot that," said Antonio, "and the scheme does seem a feasible -one. But I hope, my dear friar, that if you have recourse to it, you -will let me know where it is safe to drink. I, in return, will promise -that when those who are left of the French army--for I must tell you -that one half of them have had no knowledge of water since their -baptism--when those that remain sack and fire the city, I will bring -you out as my own particular friend, and save you from being impaled -or burned. These French gentlemen who drink nothing but wine are not -tender, I can tell you, and if they found their friends die poisoned, -you would soon see a pope dancing in the middle of a bonfire, and the -whole College of Cardinals writhing upon lance-heads."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! they will not try the trick," said Mardocchi, with a countenance -somewhat fallen, "at least, they would try all other measures first. I -doubt not that if his Holiness will give up Zizim to King Charles that -will settle all differences."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And who is Zizim?" asked Antonio.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, do you not know?" exclaimed Mardocchi; "that shows the king's -secrets are well kept in his own camp. Hark ye!" and lowering his -voice he went on to explain to his companion not only who the -unfortunate Zizim was, but the object which the King of France was -supposed to have in view in seeking to obtain possession of his -person. The tale was full of scandal to Christian ears, but seemed to -shock Mardocchi not in the least; and as it was somewhat long, as he -told it, it shall be abridged for the reader's benefit. Zizim was the -brother of the Sultan Bajazet, some indeed say, his elder brother. At -all events he was his competitor for the throne of Turkey. Their -respective claims had been settled for a time at least by arms. Zizim -defeated, was fortunate enough to escape from the vengeful policy of -the Ottoman race, and first took refuge, it would seem, with the -Knights of St. John at Rhodes. He thence sailed to France, and -appeared for a short time at the court of Charles. The pope, however, -who was alternately the ally and enemy of every prince around him, at -that time actually contemplated a new crusade, and believed, or -affected to believe, that Zizim, appearing in his brother's -territories, supported by a considerable force, might subserve his -plans, by destroying the Ottoman dominions. This at least was his -excuse for inviting the unhappy prince from Paris to Rome. Charles -consented to his departure, but upon the express stipulation that -Alexander should give him up to France whenever he was required. With -the usual mutability of the Papal councils at that time, however, but -a few months elapsed ere Alexander was the friend and ally of Bajazet, -and the life of Zizim was placed in no slight peril. Charles had in -vain required that the pope should fulfil his engagement by sending -the Turkish prince back to France. It must not, however, be supposed -that the French king was actuated solely by compassion for the -unfortunate exile. He too had ambitious ends to attain, and he too -imagined that Zizim might assist in the execution of his schemes. -History leaves no doubt that the conquest of Naples, though the -primary, was not the ultimate object of Charles's expedition into -Italy. The wildest of chimeras possessed his brain, and he imagined -that the whole Turkish empire was destined to fall before his -inefficient means and inexperienced sword. Naples was to be, in fact, -but a step to Constantinople. Flatterers and poets combined to raise -the young king's vain intoxication to the highest pitch, and we find -one of the latter singing of the conquest of Turkey as an event almost -accomplished.</p> - -<p class="normal">The pope, however, had very different views. So long as he detained -the Turkish prince in a sort of honourable imprisonment, a pension of -forty thousand gold ducats was his from Bajazet, and as soon as he -thought fit to capitalize that annuity by putting Zizim to death, -three hundred thousand ducats were promised to him. To take the prince -from him was like tearing out his entrails; but upon that point -Charles was resolute, and Mardocchi, as well as Cardinal Borgia, was -wise enough to see that the time was come when the monarch's demand -must be granted.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the tale which had been poured into Antonio's ear, when steps -were heard slowly descending the great staircase, and, on looking out, -he perceived his young lord just about to issue from the gates.</p> - -<p class="normal">So deep was the fit of thought into which all he had heard and seen -that morning had thrown Lorenzo, that he was not aware for some time -that Antonio was near him. He turned over and over in his mind the -statements of Cardinal Borgia. He tried to discover a flaw in his -reasoning--an improbability in his assertions; but all was reasonable, -all was probable; and the peril to the king and his army was so clear -that he felt himself bound, even at the risk of being thought -intrusive, to lay the whole picture, which had been given him, before -the monarch.</p> - -<p class="normal">From such thoughts he turned to the consideration of the character of -Borgia himself. Strange to say, although he had been at first both -offended and disgusted by the cardinal's demeanour, the impression now -was favourable rather than otherwise. Indeed, such was the case with -all men brought for any length of time under his fascination. The most -clear-sighted, the most wise, those who knew him best, those who had -most cause to shun and dread him, fell an easy prey to his serpent -tongue, if once they could be brought to listen. Witness the Vitelli -and the Orsini, Gravina, and Oliverotto da Fermo, all lead to death by -his specious eloquence.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is no wonder that one with so little experience as Lorenzo, and who -had no reason to fear or doubt him, but the vague rumours and -insinuations which were current in the various cities through which he -had lately passed, should feel the influence of his extraordinary -powers when brought to bear upon him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is a pity," he thought, "that a man of such boundless energy and -ability, should give himself up at any time to the effeminate and -luxurious habits which he seems to indulge in when not roused to -action."</p> - -<p class="normal">But Lorenzo little dreamed that the effeminate and luxurious habits -went hand in hand with the darkest vices and the most fearful crimes. -The character of the man might puzzle him: it might, and did perhaps, -inspire doubt, and even suspicion; but the doubt was unmingled with -horror, the suspicion had no definite form.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was still deep in thought when a voice close behind him, said:</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are going wrong, my lord, if you are seeking either your own -quarters or the king's."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, is that you, Antonio?" said Lorenzo; "I did not know you were so -near. Which way then?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To the right, my lord," replied the man; "but indeed, my lord, in -this city you should always know who is so close behind you. I have -been within stiletto length of you for the last ten minutes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But no one will try to hurt me here, Antonio," said his lord. "Ay, -here we are! Glide quickly in, see if you can ascertain whether the -king has heard mass yet, and if he has, find out if he is alone."</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio passed the guard and entered the palace, while Lorenzo spoke a -few words with the officer on duty. In a minute or two the man -returned, and answered that the king was quite alone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is waiting for the bishop in his cabinet," said Antonio, "but the -prelate is always either long at his sleep or at his prayers, and the -chamberlain says he won't be there this half-hour."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Wait here for me, then," said Lorenzo, and entered.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The young King of France sat in a small room dressed in a gown -of -black velvet, with a bonnet or toque upon his head, for the winters -were now cold, and, to tell the truth, Roman houses were then, as now, -better fitted for the summer than the winter months of the year. -Beside him stood Lorenzo Visconti, listening rather than speaking; for -although, when he craved through the chamberlain a private audience, -he had said that he had matters of great moment to communicate to the -monarch, Charles, as was not unusual with him, had begun the -conversation with tales of his own griefs and annoyances.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Upon my life, Visconti," he said, "I am of the mind to trust old men -no more, for what they have in wisdom and experience is drowned in -selfishness and ambition. A very young man may be a fool, but he is -rarely a scoundrel; and it is a sad thing, cousin, to be always -doubting whether a man in a grey beard is advising you for your -interest or his own. Look you now! they promised me that if I but -entered Rome, the pope would be brought to terms at once; and now -there he sits up in the castle there, looking down upon us like an -eagle from his eyrie, without showing one sign of a desire to treat. I -have ordered ten bombards to be brought to the bridge and pointed at -the gates, and, on my life, they shall fire unless he shows signs of -life before noon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think, sire," replied Lorenzo, "you will not have to give the -order. His Holiness may have shown no open signs of a desire to treat, -but he seems of your Majesty's opinion, that young men are the best -counsellors. In a word, sire, I have had a long interview, unsought -and unexpected, with Cardinal Borgia this morning, and it is on that -account I have intruded on you thus early."</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles's attention was now fully aroused. "What!" he exclaimed, "have -you been admitted to the castle?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, sire," answered Lorenzo; "I last night received a note from -Signor Ramiro d'Orco, appointing a place of meeting, and, judging that -his object had reference solely to his daughter, I went. We had not -conversed five minutes when we were joined by the Cardinal Don Cæsar -Borgia, and he gave me, expressly for your Majesty's hearing, his -views of the state of affairs in Italy, and hinted very distinctly -what are the terms which his Holiness is inclined to concede."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Speak! speak! tell me all!" cried the king. "By heaven, I hope we -shall not be interrupted. Call in the chamberlain or his page. That -bishop comes here about this hour; he should, indeed, be here now; but -he is somewhat negligent and unpunctual. He shall have to wait, -however, for I will not admit him till your tale is done."</p> - -<p class="normal">The chamberlain was called in, the king's orders given not to admit -even his council, and Lorenzo went on to tell his tale. His memory was -good, the words of Cæsar Borgia had impressed themselves deeply on his -mind, and Charles lost hardly anything by hearing from another mouth.</p> - -<p class="normal">The monarch was evidently much struck with the new view of his own -situation now presented to him. The old adage that "one story is good -till another is told," is constantly applicable to every view we take -of ourselves, our fate, our circumstances. Whoever told the other -story, it would always be found very different from our own. Charles -paused long and meditated in silence. His was neither a quick nor a -comprehensive mind: and when the golden visions of glory and ambition -have once entered into the brain, it is difficult to displace them; -but yet he saw obstacles he had never dreamed of, impediments which -had been suggested neither by his own judgment nor by the sagacity of -his counsellors, dangers which were more than probable, imminent and -menacing. His courage was too great, his ambition too deeply engaged, -his honour too much implicated for him to recede from his enterprise -against Naples. But he saw strong good sense in the plan suggested and -the advice given by Cardinal Borgia, and he concluded that they would -not be furnished by an enemy, or that if they were, they could not be -furnished in an inimical spirit.</p> - -<p class="normal">He pondered these matters more at length, and perhaps more profoundly -than he had ever considered anything before. Steps were heard in the -adjoining chamber, a hand was placed upon the latch, words were -spoken, some in a tone of remonstrance, and some almost in that of -anger, but they did not rouse the young king from his reverie.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the king woke, as if he had suddenly come to some -resolution. "I will demand only what must absolutely be granted," he -said, looking up--"only what is absolutely needful. We must not, by -asking too much, risk the loss of all. Now tell me, cousin--you -alluded to certain conditions to which the cardinal said his uncle, or -rather his father, would agree. Let me know them distinctly, and be -sure that you remember them aright."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo repeated as closely as possible the words of Cæsar Borgia, -giving something even of his manner and intonation. The king listened -with fixed attention; but when Lorenzo came to that part of the offer -by which it was promised that Zizim should be given into Charles's -hands, the words did not produce the effect which the young knight had -expected. The monarch remained almost entirely unmoved; the vision of -Constantinople had passed away. In showing him his real situation at -that actual moment, Borgia had taught the young king the vanity of his -schemes for the future.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then," said Charles, when Lorenzo had concluded, "almost all is -offered which I could reasonably demand. There is only one thing left -vague, and that is the security to be given that the Roman territory -shall be kept open when it either suits me to return or when I see fit -to bring reinforcements from France; but the details of that question -can be settled by negotiators on both parts. It may give my ministers -an opportunity of making something for themselves, and when it can be -done with honour, my good cousin, I do not object to advance the -interests of those who serve me well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps this little packet, sire, may serve to smooth the way with -your Majesty's ministers," said Lorenzo; "I promised to give it to my -reverend lord the Bishop of St. Malo some time when he was alone if I -could, but I did not engage not to ask your Majesty's permission."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, give it to him, give it to him," said the good-humoured king; -"but he should have been here long ere this. He is becoming sadly -tardy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think, sire, he has already come, but your Majesty ordered no one -to be admitted."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True! true!" replied Charles. "Well, then, go, good cousin, take him -aside, and give him the packet; then send him in to speak with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo, as he expected, found the king's minister in the antechamber; -but the good bishop was in no very placable mood. He eyed the young -cavalier, as he came forth from the king's closet, with a glance that -can only be given by a courtier who sees another receive high honour -from his sovereign, and he had almost turned on his heel when Lorenzo -approached him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I wish to speak with you alone for a moment, my lord bishop," said -the young man, respectfully.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot imagine what you can have to say to me, Signor Visconti, nor -with the king either," said the minister, tartly; "but, as I have been -kept long enough among pages, I may as well gratify you. This way, -sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo followed him with a smile, and the bishop led him to a vacant -chamber, saying, as soon as they entered, "Now, sir?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have the honour, my lord," said Lorenzo, "of delivering this into -your hands from Cardinal Borgia--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who! what!" exclaimed the prelate, interrupting him, in a tone -greatly altered.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He directed me, reverend sir," continued the young man, not noticing -his exclamations, "to place the packet in your hands when you were -alone. This must plead my excuse for so venturing to occupy your time -and detaining you from the king."</p> - -<p class="normal">But before Lorenzo had finished the sentence the bishop had torn open -the packet, and was gazing in admiration at what it contained. Lorenzo -did not wonder at the surprise and satisfaction which had shown -themselves on the prelate's face when he saw in his hands the largest -and most beautiful diamond he had ever beheld, except among the jewels -of the King of France. But there was something more; for the bishop -gazed at some words written in the cover, and he murmured, loud enough -to be heard, "And a cardinal's hat!" Apparently that was all that was -written, for he repeated the words again, "And a cardinal's hat! I -understand."</p> - -<p class="normal">Those few words were quite sufficient, however, for Cæsar Borgia knew -his man, and was aware that no long explanations were needed.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo was then about to retire, but the bishop stopped him with a -very gracious look, saying, "Stay, Signor Visconti, stay! Then you -know his Eminence, and have seen him lately."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, I must not detain you with explanations," said Lorenzo, "for -I know his Majesty wishes to consult you on matters of deep -importance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"At all events, I trust, from your bringing me this little token," -said the bishop, moving toward the door, "that, notwithstanding your -intimacy with the Cardinal of St. Peter's, you are not one of those -who will counsel the king to deal hardly with the Holy See."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My counsel will never be asked, my lord bishop," replied the young -nobleman, walking by his side; "but if it were, I should undoubtedly -advise his Majesty to come to an accommodation with his Holiness as -speedily as possible, and upon as generous terms as may be compatible -with his own dignity and security."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is well! that is well!" said the bishop, with a gratified smile. -"My son, you have my benediction. Blessed be the peace-makers!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus ended their interview; but the following day, to his great -surprise, Lorenzo found that the bishop had requested to have his -presence at a conference with some negotiators on the part of the -pope, alleging that it would be better to have the assistance of some -Italian gentleman.</p> - -<p class="normal">In truth, several military men had been joined with him in the -commission, and the good prelate feared that counsels opposite to his -own wishes might prevail unless he had the support of some one of -whose opinions he had made sure.</p> - -<p class="normal">The negotiations were not so soon or so easily terminated as either -Lorenzo or the king had expected. Though Cæsar Borgia for once acted -in good faith, the pope vacillated and delayed, and the subject of the -military guarantees was attended with great difficulties.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, it was agreed that Civita Vecchia, Terracina, and -Spoleto, together with Ostia, which would seem to have been already in -his possession, should be placed in Charles's hands as security; that -the solemn investiture of the kingdom of Naples should be given; that -Zizim should be delivered to him; and that Cardinal Borgia should -accompany the royal army as a hostage.</p> - -<p class="normal">On his part, Charles promised to show every outward sign of obedience -and submission to the Holy See; and Alexander returned to the Vatican -to receive the homage of the King of France for the kingdom of Naples, -and to enjoy an apparent triumph over him who had invaded his -dominions, set at nought his authority, and driven him from his -palace.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Nothing can be more evanescent than the impressions of reason -on a -small mind. That of Charles VIII. might almost be compared to a -looking-glass; it reflected only that which was before it; and, ere -the conditions of accommodation between himself and the pope were -completely arranged, he had forgotten his desire to march on -speedily--he had forgotten the extreme peril of not doing so.</p> - -<p class="normal">A whole month passed in fêtes and ceremonies, and found the French -monarch and his army still in Rome; but there were persons in his camp -and court both wiser and more impatient, and at length he was induced -to name the day of departure.</p> - -<p class="normal">Again he commenced his advance, with troops refreshed, and all the -pageantry of war renewed and brightened. The order of march was made -as it had been before; a few small bodies of cavalry in advance, then -the Swiss and Gascon foot, then the great body of men-at-arms, and -lastly, at some distance in the rear, the household of the king, -escorted by his own guard, and followed by an immense train of -courtiers, servants, and attendants.</p> - -<p class="normal">In this part of the cavalcade appeared two groups of peculiar -interest. Mounted on a splendid charger, and attired more like a -warrior than a churchman, came the Cardinal Borgia, the hostage for -the pope. An enormous train followed him, more in number, indeed, than -that which attended upon the king. Led horses, with their grooms, -mules and pack-saddles, litters, with curtains of crimson and gold, in -which, it was whispered, were some of the flowers of the cardinal's -seraglio, an immense quantity of baggage drawn slowly on in ox-carts, -and a number of men on foot, tolerably well armed for the attendants -of a cardinal, followed him in the march, and made his part of the -cavalcade as brilliant as any other.</p> - -<p class="normal">Still farther in the rear appeared a somewhat lugubrious troop, at the -head of which was borne a square black banner on a gilded pole. Then -came litter after litter with black curtains, followed by a small body -of mounted men, whose turbans and cimiters betokened the race from -which they sprang.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the front litter, the curtains of which were in part drawn back, -might be seen a man about the middle age, somewhat large and heavy in -figure, but with a mild, intelligent face. This was the unfortunate -Zizim, the brother of Bajazet, who followed the King of France rather -as a guest than a prisoner, but who well knew that he was no more the -master of his own actions than if there had been manacles on his -wrists. Yet there was hope in his heart--hope which had not tenanted -it for many a long month. He knew, indeed, that he was to be -subservient to the will of a powerful monarch, but he knew also that, -in the coming struggle, when, supported by French troops, he was to -shake the throne of his brother, there was a chance, and a good one, -of recovering what he rightly or wrongly considered as his own. His -family followed in the litters behind him; and a few faithful servants -and attendants who shared his fortunes in good and evil, made up the -rest of the band.</p> - -<p class="normal">With drums, and trumpets, and banners flying, and nodding plumes, and -all-the pomp and pageantry of war, the French army marched forward, -while the first breath of spring was felt in the air, and a slight -filmy cloud here and there in the sky promised, like the hopes of -youth, an early enjoyment of summer long before, in reality, it -approached. Mirth and laughter reigned in the ranks of the French -army, and the expedition seemed more like an excursion of pleasure -than a great military enterprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">The day's march was somewhat long, although it did not commence very -early; but Charles had suddenly re-awakened to the necessity of -reaching Naples speedily; and even the sluggish Duke of Montpensier, -who rarely rose before noon-day, was eager to get forward, and had -been in the saddle by nine.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the halt was ordered; lodgings were found in a small village -for the king and the principal personages who attended him; tents were -pitched in the fields and groves around; and, after one of those -scenes of indescribable bustle and confusion which always attend the -first night's encampment of an army, the gay French soldiery gave -themselves up to revelry and merriment.</p> - -<p class="normal">Couriers came from Rome during the evening, bringing delicious wines -and delicacies as presents from Pope Alexander to the king; and, -although it was somewhat dangerous to eat of his meat or drink of his -cup, let it be said, none of the French court was injured that day by -the bounties he provided.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the following morning the march recommenced in the same order; the -encampment again took place at night; the night passed away; but, -while the army was getting under arms in the early morning, it was -found that two of the king's honoured guests were gone.</p> - -<p class="normal">Cardinal Borgia, the pope's hostage, was nowhere to be found; litters -and rosy curtains, attendants on foot and on horseback, pack-horses -and mules, had all disappeared, and it became very evident that Cæsar, -not liking the position he occupied in the French army, had quitted -it, and taken himself back to Rome.</p> - -<p class="normal">Zizim also, the unfortunate Ottoman prince, had departed, but on a -longer journey, and to a more distant land. He had been taken ill -during the night; symptoms of poison had shown themselves at an early -hour; the disease, whatever it was, had a rapid course, and ere day -dawned the eyes of Zizim were closed in the night of death. It was -shown that messengers from his friend Pope Alexander had visited him -during the preceding evening, and a thousand vague stories ran through -the camp not at all complimentary to the moral character of the pope; -but Charles VIII., whatever might be his suspicions, sent back the -family and the corpse of the Turkish prince to Alexander. The latter, -indeed, was a valuable present, perhaps more so than any corpse ever -was before or since; for, on delivering it to the agents of Bajazet, -the messengers of the pope received three hundred thousand ducats of -gold, as compensation for some act faithfully performed.</p> - -<p class="normal">These events created much surprise and some uneasiness in the court of -Charles VIII. The graces, the exceeding beauty, and the winning -eloquence of Cæsar Borgia had dissipated all the doubts and suspicions -which, even at that early period of his life, hung about him. At a -distance, men abhorred and condemned him; once within the magic circle -of his influence, fear and hatred passed away, and friendship and -confidence succeeded in even the most cautious. But now, when he fled -from the post he had voluntarily undertaken, when he set at nought the -engagements which he had been the first to propose, suspicion was -re-awakened; couriers were sent off in haste to the towns which -Alexander had surrendered as securities to the king, and the officers -commanding the garrisons were strictly enjoined to keep guard -carefully against a surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">Before that day's march was ended, new causes of apprehension were -added to those which already existed. Intelligence was received that -Alphonzo, King of Naples, who had merited and won the hatred of his -people, had abdicated in favour of his son Ferdinand, a prince -universally beloved and respected. Gallant in the field, courteous and -kind in his personal demeanour, constant and firm, as well as gentle, -he boasted at an after period that he had never inflicted an injury -upon any of his own or his father's subjects, and there were none -found to contradict.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such a prince might be naturally expected to rally round him all that -was noble, generous, and gallant among the Neapolitan people; and -whatever Charles himself might think, there were many in his council -who knew well how difficult a task it is to conquer a united and -patriotic nation.</p> - -<p class="normal">They heard that he had assumed the crown amidst shouts and rejoicings, -that voluntary levies were swelling his forces, and that he himself -had advanced to the frontier of his kingdom, and had taken up a -commanding position ready to do battle in defence of his throne.</p> - -<p class="normal">The march of the King of France became much more circumspect; parties -were thrown out in different directions to obtain intelligence, and no -longer with gay and joyous revelry, but with compact array and rigid -discipline, the host moved forward, and passed the Neapolitan -frontier.</p> - -<p class="normal">Where was the army which was to oppose its progress? Where the -numerous and zealous friends of the young sovereign? Nowhere.</p> - -<p class="normal">Some turbulent proceedings in the city of Naples, instigated, it is -supposed, by French emissaries, recalled Ferdinand for a few days to -his capital. When he returned to the army, he found it nearly -disbanded, terror in the hearts of those who remained, and perhaps -treachery also.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was no possibility of keeping the troops together; and with -disappointment, but not with despair, Ferdinand returned to Naples, in -the hope of defending the city against the invader. Vain was the hope; -misfortune dogged him still.</p> - -<p class="normal">The volatile people, who had shouted so loudly as his succession, -received him in dull and ominous silence; and he soon learned that he -could neither depend upon their support nor upon the fidelity of the -mercenary troops with which his father had garrisoned the two great -citadels. Day by day from the various fortresses of the kingdom came -warnings of what might be expected of the people of Naples.</p> - -<p class="normal">Terrified at the approach of the French, the inhabitants of the -various cities on Charles's line of march clamoured for immediate -surrender even before they were summoned; and the governors and -garrisons only delayed that surrender till they could make a bargain -with the counsellors of the French monarch, not for safety and -immunity, but for payment and reward.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was an observation of the cunning Breconnel, that golden bullets -shattered down more walls in the kingdom of Naples than any of the -bombards of the army; but, as the finances of Charles were not very -flourishing, he was obliged to be lavish of promises when he could not -pay in money.</p> - -<p class="normal">But I must follow a little farther the history of the gallant -prince whom the French monarch came to dethrone. Left almost alone in -his palace, Ferdinand saw nothing around him but desertion and -treachery--heard of nothing but plots against his person or his power. -Calmly, deliberately he took his resolution. He selected several -vessels in the harbour, manned them with persons on whom he could -rely, and then addressed the people of Naples, telling them, in a -speech which may be apocryphal, but which is full of calm dignity and -noble courage, that it was his intention to leave the capital.</p> - -<p class="normal">He told them that he was ready to fight with them and for them, but -that the cowardice of the soldiery and treachery of their leaders -deprived him of the hope of success. He advised them, as soon as he -was gone, to treat with France; he set them free from their allegiance -to him; he exhorted them to live peacefully under their new lord. But -he told them that he would ever be near them, and promised that, -should the yoke of the stranger ever become insupportable, they would -find him by their side, ever ready to shed his last drop of blood for -their deliverance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In my exile," he said, "it will be some consolation to me if you -allow that since my birth I have never injured any one of you, that I -have done my best to render you happy, and that it is not by my own -fault that I have lost a throne."</p> - -<p class="normal">Some of the people wept, we are told, but the rest stole away to the -palace, and at once commenced the work of pillage. Ferdinand drove -them out at the point of the sword; but, finding that the garrison of -Castel Nuovo had already conspired to seize his person and sell him to -the French, he hurried on board his ships with a few friends, set fire -to the rest of the vessels in the harbour, and sailed for the Island -of Ischia.</p> - -<p class="normal">There a new trait of human baseness awaited him. The governor of the -island and of an old castle, built, as is said, by the Saracens, which -then stood on the island, attempted to parley with the prince to whom -he owed all, refusing to receive him with more than one attendant. -Ferdinand sprang ashore alone, seized the villain by the throat, and, -casting him under his feet, trampled upon him in presence of his own -forces and the garrison. The castle was soon in his possession, but he -remained not long in Ischia.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the 21st February, 1495, the French monarch approached the city of -Naples. The gates were thrown open, the streets hung with tapestry, -the windows crowded with admiring groups, and Charles entered, as if -in triumph, with an imperial crown upon his head, a sceptre in one -hand, and a globe in the other, while heralds proclaimed him emperor, -though it does not appear that they said of what empire.</p> - -<p class="normal">The mercurial population went half wild with excitement, and shouted, -and danced, and screamed before his horse's feet; and had Charles been -St. Januarius himself, Naples could not have roared with more lusty -joy.</p> - -<p class="normal">Yet the two castles still held out, the one merely to make conditions -for the benefit of the garrison, the other from nobler motives. The -Castel Nuovo was bought and sold without a shot being fired; but in -the Ovo was Frederick, the uncle of the dethroned king, and a faithful -garrison. The French artillery advanced and opened fire; the guns of -the castle replied boldly. Some damage was done in the city, and it -became evident that many of the finest buildings might be destroyed.</p> - -<p class="normal">Negotiation was then commenced, and to Frederick's high honour be it -said, that he sought no terms for himself, although he knew that the -castle could not hold out many days. It was his nephew alone that he -thought of; and he strove hard to persuade the King of France to -bestow upon Ferdinand the duchy of Calabria on condition of his -abdicating the throne: but the council of the king would not consent -to leave so popular a competitor in Italy. They offered large -possessions in France, and drew out the negotiations to such a length, -that Frederick, finding the Ovo could hold out no longer, withdrew -with a small body of men, and, joining his nephew, took refuge with -him in Ischia.</p> - -<p class="normal">The city of Naples was now completely in the power of the French, but -the kingdom was not so. Scattered over its various provinces were many -strong places. Brindisi, Otranto, Regio, Galliopoli, held out for the -house of Arragon, and the governors, too honest or too wise, would not -suffer themselves to be corrupted. The French army, holding already -several fortresses in Naples and the States of the Church, could not -afford men enough either to form the regular siege of any of those -places, or to garrison them if taken; and Charles and his court gave -themselves up to all those enjoyments for which the city of the Siren -has always been renowned.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">In a small but richly-decorated room in Naples sat three -gentlemen in -the picturesque, the beautiful costume of the times. Two were mere -youths compared with the other, and yet he was a man far on the sunny -side of middle age. Before them was a table bearing upon it dried -fruits and some wine; and many vases of fair flowers were placed upon -the board and in different angles of the chamber. The expression on -the countenance of each was somewhat grave, but it was more striking -on that of the elder man, as his face and features were, even when at -rest, of a playful turn, gay, frank, and beaming.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not like this, my young friends," he said, in a very serious -tone, "I do not like this at all," and he drank off another silver -cupful of the wine.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You seem to like it well, Seigneur do Vitry," said one of the young -men--"that is to say, if you mean the wine; you have drunk more than I -have ever seen you drink before."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have the drunkard's ever-ready excuse, De Terrail," answered De -Vitry; "I drink to drive away care. But I did not mean the wine; it is -good enough, I believe. What I meant was, I do not like this state of -affairs here in Naples, and I asked you two boys to dine with me to -talk with you about it. Why, I believe we three seated here are the -only men left reasonable in this city--the only three Frenchmen, I -should have said; but that will not do either, for one of us is not a -Frenchman by birth; at all events, I may say the only three of the -king's army."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As for these Neapolitans, they are, I believe, all born mad, so there -is no use taking them into the account at all. Now Lorenzo is -reasonable. He is in love; it is the most sobering thing in the world. -I am reasonable from perhaps somewhat the same cause; but as to you, -De Terrail, I do not understand how you came to retain your senses -when men with white beards lose theirs, unless it be something in your -nature, for you are too perfect a knight not to be proud of your love, -if you had one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, seigneur," replied Bayard, "it is not my place to find fault -with my elders; my only business is to govern my men and my own -conduct aright, but yet I cannot but say with you that I do not like -this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And I as little as either," said Lorenzo; "his Majesty surely cannot -know all that is taking place here. He cannot be aware that we are -daily losing both the respect and affection of the people. Why, when -first we arrived, they seemed almost ready to worship us, and now -every man one meets is ready to lay his hand upon his dagger."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, that is natural and common in all countries," said De Vitry; -"the common herd are always volatile, one day bowing down to their -fellow-man as an idol, the next day trampling upon him as a dog. But -the worst of it is, we have given them cause to change. We treat the -men like dogs; we consider the women as harlots. We insult men's wives -and their daughters, or do worse, and we kill the husbands and -brothers, or fathers, if they show a regard for their own honour. -Sometimes we get killed ourselves, it is true, and 'twere no pity if -'twas oftener, but for the thinning of the king's ranks, and there are -few enough of us left, I can tell you. Then see, again, how we pillage -and oppress the people? Why, I came suddenly yesterday upon a fellow -of a sutler taking away a poor old man's fish without payment, and the -old fisherman dancing out of his skin with anguish. I had the -scoundrel tied up to the strappado, and made his back acquainted with -the thongs; but what did that matter, when the same thing takes place -every day unpunished."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what you say about their women is the worst," replied Bayard; -"they are naturally a jealous people here in Naples, and we certainly -do give them good cause for jealousy. We not only treat them as if we -had conquered them, when, in truth, we have hardly struck a stroke or -crouched a lance, but as if we had made them slaves."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We should have respected them more if they had fought us better," -said Lorenzo, who had listened without seeming to attend. "Have you -heard what the pope says? He declares that King Charles has passed -through Italy, not sword in hand, but chalk in hand. He means, I -suppose, that we have had nothing to do but to mark out our quarters. -That is a hard word for an Italian to speak or an Italian to hear."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is very true though, Visconti," said De Vitry. "I wonder what can -have made such a change among the people. The Italian great companies -used to fight us as well or better than any other men in the world."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was those great companies themselves which caused the decline of a -warlike spirit in the land," said Lorenzo; "at least I think so, my -lord. When the prince depends for support on his throne, and the -peasant for protection in his cottage, upon the hands and arms of -mercenaries, the social prospects of a country are very sad. Wealth -may indeed grow up, luxury extend itself, arts be cultivated; but the -hardy spirit, the power of endurance, the sense of self-reliance, are -gone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"For many years, here in Italy, the great companies formed the chief -dependence of Italian states, and the company of St. George was the -school of Italian chivalry; but, in the meantime, the people lost -their skill and their courage in war, and when those great companies -melted away, as they did but a few short years ago, they felt -themselves, like the Britons when abandoned by the Romans, unable to -defend themselves against their enemies or to protect their friends."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, really, Lorenzo, I know not how the Britons felt, or when they -were abandoned by the Romans," said De Vitry, laughing. "I am no great -scholar in history, but I know the Britons make very good soldiers -now, as we have felt in France. But let us talk of things not quite so -far away. I fear that while we are enjoying ourselves here, and losing -the love of the people, there are storms gathering in the north, which -may break pretty hard upon us if we do not mind."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know it too well," replied Lorenzo; "I heard the facts first in -Rome from Cardinal Borgia, and related the whole to the king."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, Cæsar Borgia! Cæsar Borgia!" said De Vitry. "I doubt much his -good faith, and would sooner have him for an enemy than a friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why so, seigneur?" asked De Terrail. "I would always have men my -friends if I can, my enemies only when I must."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will tell you why, good friend," answered De Vitry. "If Cæsar were -my enemy, I would cut his throat in ten minutes; if he were my friend, -he would poison me in five. But this matter weighs upon my mind, and I -thought that perhaps you, Lorenzo, might do something to awaken the -king to the true state of affairs, being admitted so much to his -privacy."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo shook his head almost sadly, saying, "I can do nothing, my -lord. As to the licence of our soldiery, the king gives orders which -are not obeyed, and he loves not to hear complaints. As to the -menacing state of things in our rear, he depends upon his Highness of -Orleans being able to join us with strong reinforcements. He has -already passed the Alps, I hear."</p> - -<p class="normal">"With men enough to give us help were he with us, not to force a -passage to us," said De Vitry; "and, by Heaven! it's just as well that -he should not be here at present, for how the duke and the rufflers -who are with him would take what has happened this morning it is hard -to say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, what has happened?" asked Bayard and Lorenzo both together. "We -heard of nothing particular when we rode in from Portici."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Vitry smiled. "It is nothing very particular now-a-days," he said, -"but, by my faith, such things did not often happen when I was your -age, lads. Stephen de Vese, whom we all can remember, the king's valet -de chambre, has been made a duke, and has got a nice little slice of -the Kingdom of Naples to make up his duchy. I wonder what will come -next?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But the worst of all is, these witty Neapolitans know all this; and -though they are very sore at seeing every office, and benefice, and -confiscated estate given to Frenchmen, they laugh to see the old -nobility mortified by such acts as this. One saucy fellow said that he -thought the king must be a necromancer, for he changed his swine into -lions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my faith," said Bayard, "it does not take much to make a -Neapolitan lion. Heaven forbid, however, that any of us should grumble -at what the king is pleased to do. But I cannot be so grave, my lord, -as you and our friend Lorenzo seem to be. The Duke of Orleans will -fight his way through to us, or we to him, depend upon it. Visconti -has been as sad, as solemn all day as a crow in a rain-storm."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no, De Terrail," said Lorenzo, "I have neither been sad nor -solemn, though a little silent, perhaps. The fact is, yesterday was -the day when my messenger should have returned from Florence, and I am -anxious for his arrival."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, that fellow of yours, Antonio," said De Vitry, laughing, "has -lost his way at length, I warrant. I had as near as possible thrown -him into the river once for letting me mislead myself;" and he went on -to tell the story of the broken bridge, much to the amusement of his -two companions.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hark! there is a horse's feet coming at a gallop," said Bayard. -"Nothing new going wrong, I trust!" and approaching the window, he -looked out into the street; then, turning round his head, he said with -a laugh, "The old story of the devil, my good lords. Antonio, on my -life, Lorenzo."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo turned a little pale with very natural agitation. Since his -departure from Florence he had heard nought of Leonora, and if it is -terrible even in these days of comparative security and peace, to be -without intelligence of those we love--if treacherous imagination -brings forth from the treasury of Nemesis all the dangers and -misfortunes which surround mortal life, and pile them up on the head -of the beloved, how much more dreadful must it have been in those -times, when real dangers, perils, and misfortunes without number -dogged the steps of every-day life, and were as glaring and apparent -as the sun at noon?</p> - -<p class="normal">It must be remembered, too, that he was very young; that his early -life had been clouded with misfortune, teaching the young heart the -sad lesson of apprehension; that, since fortune had smiled upon him -again, he had found none to love till he had met with the dear girl -who had given her whole soul to him, and to whom his whole soul had -been given in return; that by the very intensity of their passion they -stood, as it were, alone and separate from the rest of mankind, -relying, dependent upon, and wrapped up in each other, and that for -four long months they had neither seen nor held any communication with -each other. It will be easily understood how, on the return of his -courier from Florence, agitation shook him to the very soul. He would -gladly have started up and run down to meet the messenger; but fear of -the laugh of his companions restrained him, and he sat mastering his -emotions as best he could.</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio was not long ere he ascended, however. His horse's bridle was -thrown over the hook in the wall, a few brief words with the servant -in the gateway followed, and then his light, agile step was heard -coming up the stairs.</p> - -<p class="normal">"God save you, my lord!" said Antonio, entering the room, "here is a -packet from your fair lady."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did you see her? Is she well? Is she happy?" asked Lorenzo, cutting -the silken threads, which bound the letter, with his dagger.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did see her, my lord, and she is quite well, but not happy, thank -God!" said Antonio, in his usual quaint way.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not happy?" said Lorenzo, pausing just as he had begun to read; "not -happy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, my lord, not happy. Heaven forbid that she should be over happy -while you are away. Oh, she told me a long and very pitiful tale of -how miserable she had been, thinking of how often you had been killed -and wounded in the great battles and sieges that never took place -between Rome and Naples. Seven times she dreamed you were dead, and -had all the trouble of burying you over and over again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush, hush, my good friend Antonio; I am in no mood for such -bantering just now," said Lorenzo, and turned to his letter again.</p> - -<p class="normal">But the pertinacious Antonio, though he left his young lord to read, -could not help pouring forth some of the joyful fun, which welled up -in his heart whenever he was the bearer of good news, upon his -master's young friend, De Terrail.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By the bones of St. Barnabas!" he said, "the lady was looking sad -enough when I first found her out, perched up on the high terrace -overlooking the Mugnione, but when she saw me, she had nearly jumped -out of the window with joy. But when I told her my lord was well, and -that I had brought her a letter from him, I thought she would have -kissed me--all for joy too. Well, she did not, or I should not have -dared to come back again, for murder and kisses will come out some -way."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo's face, as he read on, lighted up with an expression of -comfort and joy such as it had not borne for many a day, and many an -emotion, though all happy, passed over his countenance, like the -lights and shades of a bright spring day over a sunny landscape.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length he laid the letter on his knee with a deep sigh, and paused -for a moment in thought. As for his two companions, Bayard had smiled -at Antonio's description of his meeting with Leonora, but De Vitry sat -grave and almost stern, with his thoughts apparently far away.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length Lorenzo woke up from his meditations, and raised the letter, -saying, "Here are some lines for you too, Seigneur De Vitry."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, in the fiend's name, why did you not tell me before?" exclaimed -De Vitry, with a start, and looking really angry. "Here have I been -sitting this half hour envying you that letter, and you never let me -know that I have a share in it. Read, read, and let me know what it -is."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tell the Marquis De Vitry," said Lorenzo, reading, "that I have heard -from my dear cousin Blanche Marie, and that she wishes to know if he -wears her glove still, and what fortune it has found. She says, if he -has not forgotten her, and any couriers pass by Pavia, she would fain -hear of his health."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is that all!" exclaimed De Vitry. "Bless her dear little soul, and -her beautiful eyes, that look like two blue mountain lakes reflecting -heaven; I have carried her glove wherever it could gain glory; but -very little of that commodity is to be won in this mere marching war, -and wherever it does occur, you must needs slip in, Visconti, and take -it all to yourself. I shall have to cut your throat some day in order -to get my own share. Well, I will write to her, though, by the Lord, -it is so long since I have handled a pen, that I know not what I shall -make of it. I would send a courier on purpose, if I thought he could -make his way through that dangerous bit between Florence and Milan."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He could not do it, my lord," said Antonio, "for the whole country -there is up in arms, and a courier known to be from the French army -could not pass. I only got through as far as Florence because I had an -Italian tongue in my head. I told them I was a servant of Count -Ascanio Malatesta; and, whether there is such a personage or not in -the world, they let me pass on account of his good name."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then we shall have to march back ourselves, as I always thought we -should," said De Vitry, "and I shall be the bearer of my own letter. -Well, the sooner the trumpet sounds to horse the better. What say you, -De Terrail?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The sooner the better, by all means," answered Bayard: "but let us -hear a little more of this, my good friend Antonio. You must have -seen a good deal by the way. Cannot you give us a notion how things -are going?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly, my lord," replied Antonio: "I always wake with both eyes -open, and sleep with only one shut. In the first place, I saw many -fine men and pretty women, and many good towns and strong castles; but -I remarked one thing, which was, that most of the men had harness on -their backs, that the armourer's shops were very busy, and that the -work the ladies liked best were embroidered scarfs and sword-knots. -Moreover, in those good towns and strong castles the masons were very -busy on the outside walls, and people with teams of oxen were hauling -up long tubes, and piling up heavy balls beside them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, as I passed through Rome, I found that his pious and immaculate -Holiness was holding a Consistory, in which, people said, he was -proposing to the cardinals this knotty point, on which he had decided -in his own mind already, viz. whether he should join the league -against the King of France or not? I rode, moreover, with some -messengers journeying from Venice; some addressed to our king from -Monsieur de Commines, and some to the Venetian ambassador here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Could you obtain any intelligence from them?" asked De Vitry, -eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh yes, my lord!" said Antonio, with a laugh; "every man has a weak -side somewhere, and if I can be but three days with him--as I was with -these men--I have plenty of time to walk round him and find out where -his weak side is. I pumped out of them all they had to tell when we -were yet two days from Naples, and it amounted to this, that the -Venetians joined the league some time ago; that the King of Spain is -as far in as any of them; that the emperor is ready to attack the king -on one side, and Burgundy on the other; so that we may expect a pretty -warm reception if we march back, and a pretty hot house if we stay -here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By Heaven! you must tell all this to the king," said De Vitry, -greatly excited. "Lorenzo, can you--but no! I will do it myself. Why -should I put upon another what it is my own duty to do? Hark ye, -Antonio! be with me this night at seven. I must have audience just -before his <i>coucher</i>, otherwise we shall have a pack of those lazy -bishops and cardinals with us. On my life, I do think the Cardinal of -Rouen must have two or three pretty mistresses in Naples, he is so -unwilling to leave it. Can you come, man? speak! for it is true that -every loyal subject should do his best to rouse Charles from his -apathy. Something must be determined speedily."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can, of course, my lord," replied Antonio, more gravely than usual, -"if it is Signor Visconti's pleasure to spare me. I shall only have to -tell Jacques Gregoire to wake me up with one bucket of water, and -bring back my scattered senses with another, for, to say sooth, I am -mighty tired and somewhat stupid with riding so many hundred miles in -such a hurry."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here, drain off the rest of the flask," said De Vitry; "there is -enough there to besot a Fleming. It may bring you to life. Let us see -you take a deep draught."</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio did not disappoint him, but saw the bottom of the vessel -before he took it from his lips. As soon as he had done, however, he -said, "Well, my lords, I will humbly take my leave, and wait in his -antechamber, like other poor fools, till my patron comes back. I have -certain little particulars for his own private ear, which----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"About what?" asked De Vitry, gaily, resolved to pay Lorenzo back a -smile he had seen upon his lips while he was reading Blanche Marie's -message--"about what, Antonio. Speak out, or we shall think it -treason."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, 'tis but about how much bacon the horses ate upon the road, -and how much hay I consumed; how much wine they drank, and how much -water I tippled; how I fell under the wrath of a magistrate for eating -raw cabbages in a man's garden when I was tied by the bridle to one of -the posts thereof, and how my horse had to do penance in a white sheet -for certain vices of his which shall be nameless."</p> - -<p class="normal">The whole party laughed, and De Vitry sent the man away, commending -him for a merry soul, and telling him to bid the man at the door bring -up more wine. Lorenzo, however, would drink no more. There was nectar -enough in Leonora's letter without wine, and he was anxious to hear -all those details--those never-sufficient details--on every word of -which a lover pleases to dwell.</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio had not been gone five minutes ere Lorenzo rose and followed. -A smile came upon the faces of both his friends, but De Vitry -exclaimed, "Well, let those laugh who win, De Terrail: now I would -give a thousand golden ducats to be just in his case."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The most successful men in life are usually those who, by -experience -or by instinct, have learned to calculate other people's actions. It -is not invariably so, although, at first sight, such ought naturally -to be the result. If a man knows and sees all the paths around him -clearly, surely he ought to be able to choose that which will lead him -to the end he has in view.</p> - -<p class="normal">But we always forget one element in our calculation of others, namely, -self. We omit it altogether, or we do not give it its just value. Yet -what an important element it is! We may know--we may calculate, in -general or in detail, what will be the course in which each man's mind -will lead him; but if we know not ourselves, we can never direct the -results; for, take away the main-spring from the watch, and the cogs -and wheels are idle.</p> - -<p class="normal">However that may be, Antonio was one of the keenest and most -clear-sighted men at that time in Italy, although his fortunes were -still humble, and his prospects not very brilliant. It required no -very deep consideration to show a man of his character that Lorenzo -would be at his quarters almost as soon as himself. He therefore -walked quickly, and had not waited five minutes before his young lord -was in the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I wish to Heaven I could help bantering," thought Antonio, as he sat -expecting every minute to hear Lorenzo's foot on the stairs; "it is as -well to be serious sometimes; but, on my life, the more one lives in -this world the less one thinks there is anything serious in it. It is -all one great farce from beginning to end, and the only people who -cannot look upon it as a joke are infants who have skewers stuck into -them by their nurses, men who are going to be broken on the wheel, and -young lovers. These are the folks, especially the last, who cannot -understand a joke. But here he comes; I must try to be grave."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, Antonio," said Lorenzo, eagerly, "let me hear all about your -journey;" and then he added with that sort of dalliance with the -desired subject which youth and love are wont to show, "How long were -you in getting to Florence?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Upon my soul, my lord, I cannot tell," replied Antonio, "unless I -were to stay to calculate how many inns I stopped at, how many times -my horse cast a shoe, and how often I had to go round to get out of -the way of some wild beast or another. But I got there as fast as I -could, be sure of that; and even then I was disappointed, for when I -got to Madonna Francesca's house I found everything shut up, and -nothing but an old custode so deaf that he could not distinguish -between Francesca and Ghibellina, for he told me that was the street -when I asked for his mistress. I made him comprehend at last by signs, -and I then found out that the whole family, servants, pages, etc., had -all gone to the villa on the Bolognese road to spend the summer. -There, of course, I had to go; but I put it off from the grey of the -night, as it then was, till the grey of the next morning; and a fine -old place it is. Don't you recollect it, signor, when we were in -Florence long ago? just up in the chestnut woods on the second slope -of the mountains."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo shook his head. "Well," continued Antonio, "it is somewhat -like that villa you admired close by Urbino, half castle, half palace. -On one side it looks as gloomy as a prison, and on the other as gay -and light as a fire-fly; and it has such a beautiful view all over the -Val d'Arno, running up to San Miniato, and taking in Heaven knows how -much of the country over the hills!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well," said Lorenzo, impatiently, "I trust I shall see it ere -long."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, my lord, I put up my horse," continued Antonio, "and asked -among the servants for the signora. All the people recollected me, and -I found she had a habit of sitting out in the garden in the early -morning, just as she used to do at the Villa Rovera, which shows how -people can be mistaken, for I thought she would have given up that -custom when there was no person to sit with her; but they said she -would sit there and think for hours."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo smiled, for he thought that he knew of whom she was thinking, -and he remembered that, even in the bustle of the march, he had passed -many an hour sitting listlessly on his horse, thinking of her.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I did not find her very easily, my lord," continued Antonio, -"for it is a curious labyrinth of a place--villa, and gardens, and -all--but a last I caught sight of something like a white robe just in -the shade of a tall old cypress tree. The beautiful lady was very -flattering to me; and I am a personable sort of a man, I believe, not -easily to be forgotten when once seen. But she remembered me in a -minute, and started up and ran forward to meet me, crying out, 'What -news--what news, Antonio? Is he safe--is he well?' Then she gave me -her hand to kiss, and I kissed it, and put your letter into it, and -then she kissed the letter; but it was a hypocritical kiss, that, for -she tore it the next minute in a very barbarous manner, in order to -get at the inside. Then she kissed it again and read it. Then she read -it again, and she did not speak a word for nearly half an hour, but -went back and picked out little bits of the letter, just as a child -picks the nice bits out of a pie."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Out upon you, Antonio!" cried Lorenzo; "here the dear girl has been -showing all the warm feelings of her heart only for you to laugh at."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed, I was more like to cry, for she herself cried in the end, and -the tears flowed over the long black lashes and fell upon the letter, -and had I been a crying person, I must fain have wept to keep her -company. It is very funny, my lord, that people cry when they are -extremely happy, for I am quite certain that Donna Leonora was not -crying for sorrow then, and yet she cried as if her eyes were -fountains of diamonds; and then she wiped them with her kerchief, and -turned away her head and laughed, and said, 'This is very foolish, -Antonio, but I have been dreaming of this letter's coming so long, and -now it is so much sweeter than I thought it would be, that--' and then -she forgot what she was going to say, or perhaps she never intended to -say anything more; but I understand very well what she meant, for all -that."</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio paused, but Lorenzo was not yet half satisfied. He taxed the -man's memory to the utmost. I am not sure he did not tax his -imagination also to tell him every word, and to describe every look of -Leonora. Then he made him speak of the villa; and there Antonio was -quite at home, for, during the three days he had stayed, nothing had -escaped his attention. He knew every corner in the house, and every -walk or terrace in the gardens; and a strange, wild, rambling place it -must have been, the manifold intricacies of which spoke but too -plainly the terrible and lawless times which existed at the time of -its construction, and which, alas! existed still.</p> - -<p class="normal">The ruins may still be seen upon the slope of the Apennines, and many -a passage and chamber may be found lighted only by the rays which can -find their way through a thin plate of marble undistinguishable on the -outside from the wall or rock. The light thus afforded, be it -remarked, though dim, and at first hardly sufficient to guide the -footsteps, is mild and pleasant, and the eye soon becomes accustomed -to it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Mona Francesca and sweet Leonora d'Orco have passed away; the walls -have crumbled, and in many parts fallen; on base, and capital, and -fluted column wild weeds and tangling briers have rooted themselves, -but a short, smooth turf, dotted with the deep-blue gentia, leads from -the high road to the villa; and where several terraces once cut upon -the side of the hill, may still be traced, and over which the feet of -Leonora once daily walked, a thick covering of short myrtle, with its -snowy stars, has sprung up, as if fragrance and beauty rose from her -very tread.</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio described the place as it then was, and the young lover -fancied he could see the first, dearest object of his ardent nature -wandering amid the cypresses which led in along avenue from the villa -to the convent higher up the hill, or seated upon the terrace looking -toward Naples and counting, with the painful longing which he felt in -his own heart, the long hours which had to elapse ere they could meet -again.</p> - -<p class="normal">It seemed as if Antonio's eyes could look into his heart, for just at -the moment when that longing had reached its highest point, he said -quietly, "I wonder, my lord, that you do not quit this French service -and court, and here, in our own beautiful Italy, spend the rest of -your days, when you have here large estates, and the loveliest and -sweetest lady in all the world ready to give you her hand for the -asking. On my life, I would take the cup of happiness when it is full. -Heaven knows, if you let it pass, how empty it may be when it comes -round again, if ever."</p> - -<p class="normal">Wise, wise Antonio! you have learned early the truth of the words of -your old patron,</p> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:10pt"> -<pre> - - "Chi voul esser lieto sia. - Di doman non c'e certezza." - -</pre> -</div> -<p class="normal">Lorenzo remained silent and thoughtful, and it must be owned the -temptation was very strong; but he remained silent, as I have said, -and the man went on. "What advantage can you, sir, gain from France? -What tie binds you to follow a monarch engaged in the wildest -enterprises that ever entered a vainglorious head!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush! hush! Antonio," said Visconti; "speak no ill of King Charles. -Much leads me to follow him; many advantages can be reaped from -France, and advantages which, for my Leonora's sake, I must not -neglect. Have I not received from Charles's hands the order of -chivalry? Have I not been led by him into the way of glory and renown? -Has he not protected my youth, treated me with every kindness, -advanced me even above those who are superior to me in all respects?</p> - -<p class="normal">"And would you have me share in all the glorious and successful past -of his career, and leave him at a moment when clouds are gathering in -the sky, and danger and difficulty menace his future course? But even -were I base enough to do so, where is security, peace, justice, -tranquillity to be found in this unhappy land? Were I alone in life, -without bond of love, or the happiness of any other depending upon me, -I might, indeed, cast myself into the struggling elements now at work -in Italy--I might venture all to serve or save my country. But -Leonora, what would become of her? France may meet with a reverse or a -misfortune, but it can only be for a time. There is peace and security -for her I love. Even here, under the banner of the king, is the only -safety, the only hope of justice and security. I must not abandon one -who can and will give aid and protection to all who serve him -faithfully."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But suppose this king were to die," said Antonio, "where would be -your security then?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Founded more strongly than ever," answered Lorenzo; "the Duke of -Orleans is more nearly related to me than King Charles, and I have -always stood high in his favour. But there is no chance of King -Charles dying. He is young, healthy, and destined, I trust, to a long -life and a long reign. The thought would be far more pleasant to me to -take my Leonora into France, where, safe from all the dangers of this -beautiful and beloved but distracted land, she might spend her days in -security and peace, than to remain with her here, were all the highest -prizes of ambition ready to fall into my hand. No, no, Antonio, I must -not dream of such things. My lot is cast with that of the King of -France, at least for the present. Perchance, ere long, the opportunity -may occur of bearing my Leonora away to other lands. I cannot form -plans, I cannot even judge of probabilities, where all is uncertainty -and confusion; but through the mists of the present and the darkness -of the future twinkles still a star of hope, which will guide us home -at last, I trust. Now go and get rest and food, Antonio. I have taxed -your patience; but you would forgive me if you knew what had been the -anxieties of the last few weeks and the relief of this day."</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio left him, and Lorenzo turned to Leonora's letter again. As he -read he kissed the lines her hand had traced again and again; but they -must have a place alone, as showing the character of her who wrote -better than any words of mine could do.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVII.</h4> - - -<p class="center"><span style="font-size:smaller">LETTER OF LEONORA D'ORCO TO LORENZO VISCONTI</span>.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It has come--it has come! Oh, yes, it has come at length. Dear -Lorenzo, my own Lorenzo, forgive me if I am wild with joy. How I have -longed, how I have looked for this letter! longed and looked, till -hope itself grew very like despair! and yet what a fool I was to -expect it sooner. You would not write till you reached Naples. I knew -it well; you told me so. But what a time has it seemed! Oh, those -three months between the day of your departure and the day when you -wrote--three <i>short</i> months, people would say; three long ages to -me--how slowly, how heavily have they passed away!</p> - -<p class="normal">"I believe the sun has shone and the sky been clear, and winter has -gone and spring has come again, and the earth, grown weary of having -no flowers, is putting out blossoms on every spray, and sprinkling the -ground with gems; but every day has been a day of mist and darkness to -me, a night of fear and dread.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Consider that I knew nought of your fate--that in every siege or -battle that took place my whole hopes, my whole happiness was perilled -upon each stroke that fell. I could bear it, dear Lorenzo, if I were -near. I could ride with you through the thickest of the fight; no weak -terror, no idle cautions should keep you back, or distract your mind, -or bate your daring, or paralyse your arm, were I but near to bathe -your brow, or pillow your head, or soothe your pain, if you came back -sick and wounded. But you were alone, with none but menials near you. -In the hour of anguish or of death there was no Leonora to console, to -comfort, to tend you, and, at the last, to go hand in hand with you on -high, and be your sister in a better world. This is what gave -poignancy to all the sorrows of absence.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But why should I plead my cause with you as if you would blame my -terror; or think hardly of the anxieties I have felt? I know you can -understand them--I know you can sympathise with them. Yes, yes, you -have been apprehensive and anxious for me--I see it in every line of -your letter--for me, whose days have passed without event or incident, -without danger and without fear.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, my beloved, what can be more wearisome, what can be more full of -dark, dull dread than those still, eventless days, when, like a -prisoner in his solitary cell, our soul sits expecting the blow of -fate.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But it has come--the dear assuaging letter has come to tell me that -you are safe, that you are well, that you love me still, that your -heart yearns for our meeting. It was long upon its way; but I, do -believe poor Antonio brought it as fast as he could. I think he knew -how I longed for its coming--how I longed for yours.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, how I long for it still, my Lorenzo; and yet there is a pleasure -in having to write. I can tell you on this page--I can dare to own to -you more than I could by spoken words. This paper cannot see my cheek -glow, nor, though cold and unsympathetic as the world, can it smile -coldly at feelings it cannot comprehend. Oh yes, there are many -hundred miles between us, and I dare pour out my whole heart to you. I -dare tell you how much I love you; how you have become part of my -happiness--of my being; how my existence is wrapped up in yours.</p> - -<p class="normal">"When I think of that long journey together--of that journey which -your noble nature made safe for me, and oh! how happy too, I thank -Heaven, which has made me know a man whom I can reverence as well as -love.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Even as I write, the memory of those sweet days comes back, every -act, every word, every look is remembered. The tones that were music -to me, the look that was light, are present to my eye and ear; my head -upon your bosom; your eyes look into mine, and the burning kisses go -thrilling through my veins into my heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh come soon, Lorenzo, come and realize all our dreams; blot out this -long period of anxious absence from my memory, or only leave it as a -dark contrast to our bright joy. I can part with you no more, my -beloved; I must go with you where you go. Nothing now opposes our -union; you say my father's consent is given. Let me have the right to -be with you everywhere, whether in the city or the camp. Let me be -your companion, your friend, your consolation, and you shall be my -guide, my protector, my husband.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How wildly, how madly I write! some would say how unwomanly. Let them -say what they please. They who blame have never loved as we have -loved--have never trusted as we trust; or else they have never known -you, and cannot comprehend how worthy you are of seeing a clear -picture of Leonora's heart, how little capable of misinterpreting one -word she writes, or abusing one feeling which you yourself have -inspired.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps, were you here, I could not tell you all this; my tongue -might hesitate, my voice might fail me, but the same sensations would -be within, and the words, unspoken, would be written in my heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is hard to come forth from our own separate world, and speak of -the things of the common, every-day life. Indeed, I have nothing to -tell, for I have lived in my own dear world ever since you left me; -but one thing I must mention. Tell the Marquis de Vitry that I have -heard from my dear cousin Blanche Marie, and she wishes to know if he -wears her glove still, and what fortune it has found. She says, if he -has not forgotten her, and any couriers pass by Pavia, she would fain -hear of his health.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is the way in which I ought to write to you, I suppose, Lorenzo; -but I cannot do so; and yet, Heaven bless the dear girl, and grant -that her union with De Vitry may be as happy as ours. She well -deserves as much happiness as can be found on earth, for she has ever -preferred others to herself. I almost feel selfish when I compare -myself with her, and consider how completely your love has absorbed -every thought and feeling of your</p> -<p style="text-indent:70%"><span class="sc">Leonora</span>."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"From this, sire, I am of opinion," continued the Cardinal -Bishop of -St. Malo, after having given a long exposition of his views in regard -to the state of Italy, "that it would be wise for your Majesty to send -some high dignitary of the Church to confer with the pope, and -endeavour to detach him from the League, of which people speak so -much, and of which Monsieur de Commines is so much afraid. His -Holiness can hardly be supposed to be sincerely attached to it, and -will doubtless yield to some slight inducements. At the same time, I -will send messengers to Monsieur de Commines, instructing him to -negotiate with the Venetians concerning a commercial treaty and a -guarantee of the coasts of Italy against the invasion of the Turks. -There is nothing, to my eye, very formidable in the treaty between the -Italian powers, which was fairly and openly published at the Vatican, -and in which his Majesty was invited to take part. It is not usual for -monarchs to be asked to fight against themselves, and I cannot but -believe that the objects of the confederation have been plainly and -candidly stated, notwithstanding the terrors of Monsieur de Commines, -who has now somewhat of the timidity of age about him."</p> - -<p class="normal">The prelate looked round the council-board, at which were seated some -of the most distinguished soldiers of France, and it was evident, from -the self-satisfied features of his countenance, that he thought he had -made a very effectual and convincing speech. He was destined to be -much disappointed, however; for, though Montpensier and several others -held their tongues, a somewhat sarcastic smile curled the lips of the -old soldiers, and La Tremouille probably spoke the universal -sentiment, though in rather an abrupt and discourteous way.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There spoke a priest," he said, "my lord the king; this is a council -of war, I think, and though I could not probably celebrate mass as -well as monseigneur here can cook a ragout, yet I think I know -somewhat more of war than he does, and perhaps as much of policy. -Commines is not alarmed without cause.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Put by paltering with naked facts, and you will find the case to -stand thus: The most formidable league, probably, that ever was formed -against a King of France, has been entered into by the Venetians, the -Duke of Lombardy, all the petty princes of the North of Italy, the -King of Spain, the Emperor of Germany, and the King of the Romans. All -these are jealous of your Majesty's conquest of Naples, and the pope, -knowing that he has given you good cause of offence, hates you because -he has done you wrong, has broken his treaty with you, and fulfilled -not one single promise that he made, except giving cardinals' hats to -the Bishop of St. Malo and the Archbishop of Rouen. He also has joined -the league against you. There is one plain fact.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now for another, sire. Your enemies are in an active state of -preparation. The Venetians have levied large forces, both of -men-at-arms, of infantry, and of light Albanian cavalry. These -Stradiotes are scouring all Lombardy. The Duke of Milan alone has a -force in the field superior in numbers to any your Majesty can bring -against him. The houses of Este and Gonzaga are both in arms; the -fleets of Genoa and Venice are both upon the sea to cut off your -reinforcements, and the King of Spain is hurrying his preparations, -not alone to bar your passage into France, but to attack your French -dominions.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, sire, it does not behove the high officers of your Majesty's -crown and army to risk the perdition of their monarch for an old -woman's tale or a churchman's delays. What is the advice we are bound -to give you? To remain here shut up in this remote corner of Italy -till your enemies gather strength every day, attack you on all sides, -and sweep us up, as one of these Neapolitan fishermen sweeps up the -fish in his net? Certainly not. The only course, then, is for you to -return to France. Can you return by sea? It is impossible; we have no -ships at hand to carry us, and if we had, there are superior fleets -upon the water. By land, then, is the only way--I was going to -say--still open, but I can hardly say that, for De Vitry here tells me -that troops are gathering fast upon the Taro. But they are not yet in -sufficient numbers to be of much account."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, Monsieur de la Tremouille," said the king, interrupting him, -"would you have me abandon Naples, after all it has cost us to acquire -it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That does not follow, sire," replied La Tremouille; "You can garrison -the principal strong places of this kingdom, and then, with the rest -of the army, march, lance in hand, to the frontier of France. I will -undertake, upon my head, that we cut our way through if we set out at -once; if we delay, God only knows what will be the result. Our -junction once effected with the Duke of Orleans, we have nothing more -to fear, and may then either turn upon this Ludovic the Moor and -chastise his many crimes, or gathering fresh forces in France, return -to Naples, and set all our enemies at defiance. This is my advice. I -know not what is the opinion of the other lords here present."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I go with my good cousin, sire," said Montpensier: "and if it be -needful, and your Majesty so commands, I am ready to remain here in -Naples, and do my best to keep the kingdom for you till you can return -yourself or send me reinforcements."</p> - -<p class="normal">Every member of the council, with the exception of the -bitterly-mortified Cardinal of St. Malo, concurred in the views of La -Tremouille.</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles still hesitated, and ended by endeavouring to combine the -advice of his minister with that of his generals. He gave orders to -prepare for immediate departure, and sent prelates to the pope, and -letters to his ambassador at Venice. The appearance of the first in -Rome served to warn Alexander to fly from the approach of the French -army; the receipt of the latter in Venice only served to hasten the -preparations of the Venetians to oppose the king's passage. But still -with some vacillation of purpose, before the council rose he -questioned De Vitry as to the nature and source of the intelligence he -had received regarding the concentration of troops upon the Taro.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have got the man here without, sire," replied De Vitry; "shall I -call him in, that your Majesty may examine him yourself?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The king bowed his head, and a moment after Antonio was in his -presence. The scene was somewhat imposing, for all the greatest men of -France--those who had served their country--those who had made -themselves a name in history, were present round that council-board; -but I fear, Antonio's was not a very reverent nature. It was not alone -that he had but small respect for dignities, but that he had as little -for what are generally considered great actions. Doughty deeds were to -him but splendid follies; and he felt more reverence in the presence -of a woman suckling her babe than he would have felt for Cæsar in his -hour of triumph. If he was a philosopher, it was certainly of the -school of the cynics.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the present occasion he appeared before the King of France with -perfect unconcern; perhaps there was a little vanity in it, for he -argued, "They may know more about some things, but my mother-wit is as -good as theirs, and may be better. Why should I stand in awe of men, -many of whom are inferior to myself, and few superior?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, sir, tell what you know of this matter," said the king, taking -it for granted that De Vitry had told him why he was brought within.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of what matter, sire?" asked Antonio; "I know a good deal of several -matters."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I mean of what is taking place beyond the mountains," said the king. -"I thought Monsieur De Vitry had explained."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He merely told me to come to your Majesty's presence," replied -Antonio. "As to what is taking place beyond the mountains, sire, there -are many things I wish were not. It is now the month of May, and the -prospects of the harvest are but poor. There is plenty of it, but the -crop is likely to be bad--spears and bucklers instead of wheat and -furrows, sire, and blood and tears instead of gentle rain and light -airs."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be more precise, sirrah," said the Cardinal of St. Malo, sharply; "we -want facts, and not any more moralizing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Heaven forbid that I should moralize in your Eminence's presence," -replied Antonio, with great gravity; "but if his Majesty wishes to -know what I saw on my journey from this place to Florence and back -again, I will deliver it at large."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray spare yourself that trouble," said De Vitry, interposing; -"merely tell, and that as briefly as possible, my good friend, what -you told me just now about the state of the country, especially on the -other side of the Apennines."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, my lord, the people are arming all through Romagna and the Papal -States," replied Antonio. "I have never seen such an arming in Italy -before. There is not a small baron or a vicar of the Church who is not -getting men together; and had it been know I was in the French -service, I could not have passed; from which I argue that all this -preparation bodes no good to France. Then, as to the other side of the -mountains, I saw nothing with my own eyes. But I heard from a -muleteer, who had been plundered of his packs by the Albanians, that -about Fornovo and Badia there is a Venetian force of several thousand -men--a thousand lances, he said, at the least, besides foot-soldiers, -and that the Stradiotes were scouring the country right and left, and -bringing in food and fodder to a camp they are forming near Badia on -the Taro. Another told me that on the road near Placenza he had passed -a force of some five thousand men marching towards the mountains; and -the report ran that his Highness of Orleans had been stopped near -Novara by a superior army and forced to throw himself into that -place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That accounts for there being no letter, sire," said La Tremouille.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He surely could have found means of sending us intelligence," said -Charles; "it is always customary, I believe, my lords, to send more -couriers than one, and by different routes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No French courier could pass, sire," said Antonio; "there are -barriers across the whole of Italy, whose sole business is to cut off -all communication between your Majesty and your French dominions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then how did you pass?" exclaimed the king, somewhat irritated by the -man's boldness.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because I can be a Frenchman when I like and an Italian when I like, -may it please your Majesty," replied Antonio; "this time I thought fit -to be an Italian, and that saved me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would fain have the man asked," said La Tremouille, "if he knows by -whom those bands are commanded, led, or instigated."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know nothing but by common report," replied Antonio, "and she is a -stumbling jade upon whom it is not well to rest weighty matters. -However, she sometimes stumbles right, and the general rumour -throughout the whole country was that his Eminence the Cardinal Cæsar -Borgia was at the bottom of the whole. Certain it is that the men who -stopped and robbed the muleteer professed themselves to be his -soldiers."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot believe it," said the king; "he was wrong in leaving our -camp it is true, when he had voluntarily surrendered himself as a -hostage, but in all our communications he showed reverence for the -crown of France, and professed respect and affection for our person."</p> - -<p class="normal">A slight smile came upon the lips of several of the counsellors, who -had learned by experience the difference between professions and -realities, but no one ventured to assail the king's opinion, and -shortly after Antonio was dismissed; but it was only to give place to -the king's provost, who came to report very unmistakable signs of -mutiny and sedition in the city of Naples itself. From his account it -appeared that even those who had been most discontented with the -Arragonese princes, and had greeted most warmly the entrance of -Charles into Naples, longed for the restoration of the old dynasty, -and were, step by step, advancing towards revolt.</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are an ungrateful people," said Charles; "have I not freed them -from taxes and burdens insupportable?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, sire," replied bluff La Tremouille; "but I must say in their -favour that if <i>you</i> have freed them, some of our good friends have -burdened them sufficiently. In fact, your Majesty, it has been but a -change in the nature, not in the weight of the load, and the old story -goes, if I recollect right, that the ass who carried the gold, found -his pack quite as heavy as the ass who carried the hay."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are somewhat bold," replied the king, with a frowning brow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am, sire," replied the undaunted soldier; "perhaps too bold, and I -can crave your pardon on the plea that I am rendered bold by my zeal -for your Majesty's service. The people of the whole kingdom we know to -be discontented at the end of three short months. Now, as your Majesty -has shown yourself full of the kindest and most liberal feelings -towards them, this discontent can only be produced by the exactions -and peculations of inferior persons. I mention it now, whatever it may -produce, because I sincerely hope and trust that Naples may ever -remain a dependency of the French crown; and it will be necessary that -these things be examined into very closely, in order that the country -may be rendered a willing and attached dependency, rather than a -hot-bed of mutiny and discontent--a sore in the side of France."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You mean well, I know," said the king, rising; "let all preparations -be made with speed to commence our march at the earliest possible day. -Montpensier, we will confer with you privately on the defence and -maintenance of the kingdom at the hour of noon--that is to say," he -continued, with a faint smile, "if you can contrive to rise so early -in the morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, Charles quitted the council chamber with a sad feeling of -the weight and difficulty, the care and anxiety, the duty and -responsibility of a crown.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">I am about to quote from another who knew well the facts he -recorded. -His name matters not, but the whole is a translation, upon my word. -"The king had remaining nine hundred men-at-arms, comprising his -household troops, two thousand five hundred Swiss, two thousand of the -French infantry, and about fifteen hundred men fit to bear arms that -followed the army. These troops formed a body of nine thousand -combatants at the utmost, with whom he had to cross all Italy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This small army was not yet out of Naples when Ferdinand had effected -his landing on the coast of Calabria, at the head of some Spanish -troops. Charles began his march on the 20th day of May, not long after -his coronation. He met with no impediment on his march to Rome, from -which city the pope had fled. He passed through it, strengthened -himself by the reinforcements collected from various garrisons which -he had left in the strong places of the ecclesiastical states, and -sacked the small town of Toscanella, which refused to receive his -troops."</p> - -<p class="normal">So far my author; but after quitting Rome, whither did Charles direct -his march? First to Viterbo, thence to Sienna, and from Sienna to -Pisa. Was he bending his steps to Florence? Was the long-looked-for -hour coming quick to Lorenzo Visconti? Poor youth! he could not tell. -His heart beat when he thought of it. He formed eager and passionate -plans--he dreamed dreams of joy. He would press Leonora to an -immediate union; he would carry her with him to France; he would take -her to the sweet banks of the Loire, and in that old chateau he so -much loved he would see melt away at least some few of those bright -days of youth which God made for happiness. Oh! the cup and the -lip--the cup and the lip! How short the span that will contain many -and momentous events!</p> - -<p class="normal">The army arrived at Pisa, and every one asked his neighbour what was -the direction of the next day's march. No one could tell. The morning -broke, and no orders were given. The citizens of Pisa rejoiced, -provided for the French soldiers as if they had been brothers, -rivalled each other in showing kindness and courtesy, and lost no -means in testifying that gratitude which they might well feel, or of -conciliating that friendship which had already proved so valuable.</p> - -<p class="normal">The King of France busied himself with their affairs, endeavoured to -moderate between them and the Florentines, and enjoyed all the -pleasures of that city in the fairest period of the year; but though -every day increased his peril, he spoke not of the forward march, and -never hinted an intention of visiting Florence ere his departure from -Italy.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length Lorenzo could endure suspense no longer, and craved -permission to absent himself for a few days.</p> - -<p class="normal">"They must be few indeed," said the king gravely. "If you can ride -thither in one day and back in another, you can spend one day with -your sweet lady, my good cousin. On the fourth we march forward for -Pontremoli."</p> - -<p class="normal">The time was very short, but still a day--an hour with Leonora was a -boon not to be neglected. It was night when Lorenzo received the -permission, and ere an hour was over he was on the way to Florence -with a small train. The air was clear and calm, the moon was shining -brightly, near the full, and the ghost-like, dreamy beauty of the -white marble buildings harmonized with the lights that fell upon them. -Oh fair Pisa! city of beauty, of sorrow, and of crime! Standing in thy -streets and remembering thy past history, one knows not whether to -admire, to grieve, or to abhor!</p> - -<p class="normal">The word was given, the gates were opened, and the train passed out, -not numerous enough for any military expedition, yet comprising too -many men, and those too well armed, for any party of mere pleasure, -except in days of war and peril. Then the country between Pisa and -Florence was regarded as peaceful, as those days were; but peace was a -mere name in the time I speak of, and it was well known that armed -parties had ravaged the adjacent districts ever since the arrival of -the King of France at Pisa.</p> - -<p class="normal">Yet how calm and tranquil was the sky, how soft and soothing the early -summer air, how melodiously peaceful the song of the choristers of the -night, and even the voice of the cricket on the tree or the insects in -the grass! The eternal warfare of earth and all earth's denizens -seemed stilled as if the universal knell awaited the coming day.</p> - -<p class="normal">Through scenes, oh, how fair! passed on Lorenzo and his train, twelve -mounted men, fully equipped and armed, and half a dozen pages and -servants, and as they rode, the same feelings--varied, but yet the -same--were in the bosom of both leader and followers; a weariness of -the turmoil and ever-irritating watchfulness of war, a sense of -relief, a blessed sensation of repose in the quiet night's ride, and -the peaceful moon, and sweet bird's song--a consciousness of calm, -such as comes upon the seaman when the storm has blown out its fury, -and the sky is clear, and the ocean smooth again.</p> - -<p class="normal">The rudest man in all the train felt it, and all were silent as they -rode, for few of them knew the sources of the emotions they -experienced, fewer sought to analyse them, and only one was moved by -passions which rendered the scenes and circumstances through which he -passed accessories to the drama playing in his own heart. Lorenzo felt -them all, it is true, but it was feeling without perception. The -moonlight, and the trees, and the birds' song, and the glistening -murmur of the river, all sank into his mind and became part of the -dream in which he was living, and yet he remarked none of all these -things distinctly, and gave every thought to Leonora.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She will come with me," he thought, "she will surely come with me. -What matters it that the time is short? It is not as if we were the -mere acquaintances of a day. We have wandered half through Italy -together; she has rested in my arms, and pillowed her head upon my -bosom. She will never refuse to come, though there be but one day for -decision and action. But then Mona Francesca, will she not oppose? She -is one of those soft, considerate women of the world, who dress -themselves at the world's eye, and regulate every look by rule. She -cannot feel as we feel, and will think it easy for me to return a few -months hence and claim my bride with all due ceremony--a few months, -and a few months! Why life might slip away, and Leonora never be mine. -The present only is ours in this fleeting world of change, and we must -not let it fly from us unimproved. Yet Mona Francesca will certainly -oppose. At all events, she will wish to consult some one, to shield -herself under the opinions of others from the world's comments. On -Leonora only can I rely, and on her must I rely alone. Here, Antonio, -ride up beside me here: I wish to speak with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man rode up, and Lorenzo questioned him much and often. He asked -if there were not a church near the villa, and what he knew, if he -knew anything, of the priest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is a church some two miles off in the valley," said Antonio, -"but I never saw the priest. The servants told me, however, he was a -severe man, who exacted every due to the uttermost."</p> - -<p class="normal">That was not the man for Lorenzo's purpose; and he paused and waited, -and then propounded other questions, to which he received answers not -much more satisfactory. At length Antonio exclaimed, with a laugh, -"Tell me, my lord, what is it you want with a priest, and it shall go -hard but your poor Antonio will find means to gratify you. You cannot -want to confess, methinks, since you confessed last, or you must have -sinned somewhat cunningly for me not to find you out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"See here, Antonio," replied Lorenzo; "I must be back on the day after -to-morrow at Pisa. Now, in a word, the Signora d'Orco must be mine ere -I depart."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, then, my lord, take her home with you," said Antonio, with some -feeling. "If your absence now has caused her such pain when you are -but lovers, think how she would pine, poor lady, if you were so long -absent from your wife."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Such is my intention, Antonio," answered Lorenzo. "When I meet her -again, I can part with her no more; but here is the difficulty: Mona -Francesca will oppose our hasty union. It must, therefore, be private. -Once mine by the bonds of the Church, and with her father's full -consent, which I have in writing, no opposition can avail. She is mine -beyond all power to separate us--she is mine, and for ever. Mona -Francesca must perforce consent to her going with me to France, and, -indeed, if she did not, her opposition would be vain."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I wish you had brought more men with you, my lord," replied Antonio, -"but that is neither here nor there. As we have begun, so we must go -on. Then, next, as to a priest, which is now, I suppose, the -all-important question. First, we must find one who is willing; next, -we must find one who is sure; and, thirdly, we must find one who is -dexterous. Give me but two hours, and I think I can make sure of the -man. When I was telling you all about the Villa Morelli, I mentioned -that there was a monastery just above, not a quarter of a mile up the -mountain. You did not take much notice of what I said, for you did not -know how serviceable it might be. Oh, my lord, you cannot imagine how -useful convents and monasteries are on various occasions, nor what -various sorts of men can be found within them. Now there are always -many who have taken priest's orders, and in this monastery there is -one, at least, qualified in every way to celebrate matrimony, or -anything else you like. He is Madonna Francesca's director, and -therefore must be a holy and devout man."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a slight touch of sarcasm in Antonio's tone, but that did -not prevent Lorenzo from presenting the very reasonable objection that -he was the last man who ought to be asked to perform the marriage -ceremony of Mona Francesca's temporary ward without her knowledge and -consent.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My good lord is not much acquainted with priests and friars," said -Antonio; "but just as certain as Monseigneur Breconnel steals the -king's money just when his Majesty has most need of it himself, so -will Fra Benevole marry you to the signora, and help to keep Madonna -Francesca quiet and ignorant till all is over. Why, I have drunk more -than one bottle with him; and for a sufficient sum--for the benefit of -the monastery--always for the benefit of the monastery, you know--he -will either give Mona Francesca such a penance for all the sins she -has even wished to commit as will keep her in her own chamber all day, -or he will drug her little cup of vino di Monte Capello, which she -takes every morning, so as to make her sleep for four-and-twenty -hours, or he will poison her outright and save you all further trouble -about her, just as your lordship likes," and Antonio touched his cap -with solemn irony.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The two latter alternatives are rather too strong for my taste, -Antonio," replied Lorenzo, "but the first will do well enough, if you -can depend upon your boon companion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We can make him reliable, sir," said Antonio; "that depends entirely -upon the ducats. Faith is a very good thing when it is of the right -sort; but the only faith that is good is faith in God and the blessed -Virgin. Faith in man must be tied with gold, and then it may hold -fast. What am I to promise him if he perform the marriage ceremony, in -the chapel of the villa, between you and the signorina some time -to-morrow, and contrive the means?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, Cynic, he will demand the money in hand," said his young master. -"Why should he trust to your faith if you will not trust to his?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will both trust half way, my lord," replied Antonio, "and then it -will be the interest of neither to deceive the other. If you please, -we will give him half the money for his promise, and the other half -after his performance. He shall have one moiety when he says he will -do it; and the other when he gives you, under his own hand, the -certificate of the marriage. What do you think he ought to have?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Whatever he asks," replied Lorenzo; "a couple of hundred ducats."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! the extravagance of youth!" exclaimed Antonio; "he would poniard -his own father for a quarter of that sum. If I understand you right, I -am to offer him anything he seeks under two hundred ducats."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I placed not that limit absolutely, my good friend," answered -the youth; "the truth is, Antonio, this marriage must take place at -once. I will not leave my Leonora again, and now she can only go with -me as my wife. Whatever he asks he must have. I have about five -hundred ducats with me, and he can surely trust my word for more, -should it be necessary."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Heaven forgive us!" exclaimed Antonio; "you are almost blasphemous, -sir, to suppose that a priest of the Catholic Church would set such a -price upon matrimony when he charges so little for any other sin you -please to mention. I will arrange the matter for you easily, now I -know how far you will go. You have no mind, perhaps, to have any -cardinal assassinated, or any rich lord put out of the way, for I dare -say I could get it done gratis, as a sort of make-weight, when your -lordship is so liberal about matrimony! But look upon that matter as -all arranged. You have nothing to do but prepare the lady and obtain -her consent, and I will let you know, within four hours after we -arrive, the when, and the where, and the how."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have but a sad opinion of the clergy of your own country, my good -Antonio," said Lorenzo, with a mind greatly relieved by his -companion's promises.</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my life, it is not of the clergy alone I have such a favourable -opinion," replied Antonio, laughing; "from prince to peasant it is all -the same thing, only the clergy have the best opportunities. Look at -our friend Ludovic of Milan; look at your friend Cardinal Cæsar; pope, -prince, lawyer, doctor, friar, it is all the same thing. We have got -into a few trifling bad habits here in Italy, what between Guelphs and -Ghibelines, popes and emperors. Those who dare not draw a sword, -unsheath a dagger; and those who wish not to spill blood, because -people say it leaves a mark behind it, use poison, which leaves none. -Buondoni, who came near killing you, was, I do believe, one of the -best of all the rascals in Italy. He was always ready to peril his own -life, and rather preferred it. Why, he could have had you put out of -the way by something dropped into a cup of wine or scattered on a -bunch of grapes for half a sequin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What! in the Villa Rovera?" asked Lorenzo, in a tone of doubt.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It might have been difficult there, it is true," replied Antonio, -"and perhaps Ludovic was in a hurry; otherwise he would have had it -performed, as they call it, anywhere on your journey, for less than it -cost Buondoni to feed his horses on the road to Milan. Death is cheap -here, my lord. But let us talk of business again. I had better lighten -your purse at once of a hundred ducats, that I may be prepared when we -arrive to go to early mass, which I can do safely, as I have nothing -on my conscience but a small trifle of matrimony, which we are told is -a holy state."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo not only gave him readily the money he required, but would -fain have pressed more upon him, for he was fearful even of the least -impediment occurring to frustrate or delay the execution of his plan.</p> - -<p class="normal">Throughout the livelong night he and Antonio continued to discuss -every part and particular of the scheme they had devised; not, indeed, -that there was anything more of importance to be said, but Lorenzo -loved to dwell upon details which gave rise to happy thoughts, and -Antonio had an amiable toleration for his master's passion.</p> - -<p class="normal">Day dawned at length, and found the party of horsemen some five miles -from the city of Florence; but their course was no longer to be -pursued in that direction. Under the guidance of Antonio, they left -the broad highway between Pisa and Florence, and began to ascend by a -narrower and steeper path toward the villa they were seeking. It -was a wild and somewhat savage region through which they now -passed--beautiful, indeed, but stern in its beauty.</p> - -<p class="normal">The sides of the Apennines in those days were covered with dense -forests, which, long after, were cut down to take away their shelter -from the robbers which infested them; and the oaks and chestnuts had -even in some places encroached upon the road. In other spots, however, -large masses of rock appeared; and in others, again, the path, having -been cut along the side of the hill, displayed a grand view over the -wide and beautiful valley of the Arno and the surrounding country. At -the first of these gaps, where the open landscape presented itself, -neither Lorenzo nor Antonio looked toward it, for both had matter of -thought within which made them somewhat indifferent to external -objects. They might have even passed the second and third without -notice, but one of the soldiers who followed exclaimed, "That is a -good large body of men, my lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" cried Lorenzo, immediately turning his eyes to the open country. -"Indeed it is, Parisot. There must be full five hundred spears."</p> - -<p class="normal">"More than that, sir," replied the man; "but they are not coming our -way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nor going to Florence, either," remarked Antonio. "They are no -Florentine troops, Monsieur Parisot."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know what they are," said the soldier, "but I know what they -are not. They are not French troops, or you would see them in better -order. Why, they are riding along like a flock of Sarcelles."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, I see," said Antonio; "not half the regularity of a flock of wild -geese."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Don't you think, my lord," continued Parisot, without remarking -Antonio's quiet sneer at his boast of his countrymen's military array, -"don't you think they look like one of those irregular bands which we -sometimes saw in the Roman States? people said they were kept up by -Cardinal Borgia. They go flying about just in the same way, shifting -from flank to rear--now in line, now in hedge, and now in no order at -all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They do look like them," said Lorenzo; "but I should hardly think the -cardinal would venture his men so far as this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, my lord, you cannot tell how far he will venture," said Antonio, -"especially when he is only taking the dues of the Church. He and his -holy father have a right to tithes, and those bands are merely sent -out to collect a tenth of all the property in Italy. But what are they -doing now? Some twenty of them have gone to that pretty little villa -to get a draught of water, I warrant."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, let us pass on," said Lorenzo; "they do not see us up here, or -they might prove troublesome fellow-travellers."</p> - -<p class="normal">But before he could move on beyond the break in the trees from which -he had been observing the cavalry in the valley below, a thin white -smoke rose up from the villa, and the detachment which had ridden up -to it was seen retreating towards the main body of their comrades, who -had paused upon the high road. The next moment a flash of flame -mingled with the smoke, and then, from two of the windows, lines of -fire were seen to extend along a verandah, probably of wood, which ran -round three sides of the house. Another moment, and all was in flames, -while indistinctly were seen several persons, apparently women, in the -hands of the brutal soldiery.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo shut his teeth close and rode on. He uttered not a word aloud, -but he thought, "Oh that I had supreme power over this beautiful land, -if but for a brief space of time, I would be a tyrant for the people's -good--remorseless, cruel to all such fiends as these. But I would stop -the crimes that make a hell of a paradise, or die."</p> - -<p class="normal">The ascent seemed very long. Oh, how long the last portion of any -journey seems when we are hastening to those we love! "Is it much -farther, Antonio? is it much farther?" asked Lorenzo, repeatedly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Only a mile, my lord--only half a mile," replied the man. But the -mile seemed a day's journey, the half mile a league.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the joyful words were heard, "We turn off here, signor." But -still the chestnut woods hid the villa from sight; and though Lorenzo -now pushed on his jaded horse fast along the more level ground they -had reached, some more slow moments passed ere he came upon the -smooth, free turf-ground, bedizened with flowers, which Antonio had -described at the approach to the villa. It opened out at a turn of the -road very suddenly, and the young knight was upon it ere he was aware. -But in an instant he reined in his horse, and was still gazing forward -with a look of dismay and anguish when his men came up.</p> - -<p class="normal">There indeed stood the Villa Morelli--at least what was left of it. -There were the old towers firm and perfect externally, though the -windows were cracked and broken; but the more modern edifice which was -turned towards the west for the purpose of catching the full influence -of the most beautiful hour of Italy, with its light graceful -architecture, its richly-ornamented windows, and fairy colonnade, -where was it?</p> - -<p class="normal">Parts still stood shattered and toppling over, as if about to fall the -next moment; part lay in fragments upon the terrace, and part had -fallen inward, crushing the luxurious halls and splendidly-furnished -chambers, while here and there a wandering wreath of smoke, and even a -creeping line of fire among scorched and broken beams, told by what -agency the ruin had been produced.</p> - -<p class="normal">Old men hardened in the petrifying experience of the world, and men of -iron souls created and fashioned for the sterner things of life, may -be brought suddenly into the presence of such scenes, may even have -personal interest in them, without feeling more than a vague general -sense of disgust and horror at those who have produced them, and the -sorrow which is natural to the human mind in seeing fair things -blighted, either by gradual decay or sudden accident. But Lorenzo -Visconti was not one of those. There was a certain degree of -firmness--even perhaps sternness in his character, it is true; but he -was full of emotions, and sensitive, and very young.</p> - -<p class="normal">There had dwelt his young bride when last he heard of her; there he -had every reason to believe she had been dwelling peacefully within a -few short hours. Is it wonderful that, besides all the terrible fears -which rushed in an indistinct crowd through his head, a thousand wild -thoughts should crowd upon his brain and seem to paralyse its -functions.</p> - -<p class="normal">Where was she now? What had become of her? Had she been carried off by -the baud of ruthless marauders he had seen below? Was she buried in -those dreadful ruins? These and a thousand other fearful questions -were flooding his mind like the waves of a sea stirred by a hurricane.</p> - -<p class="normal">All paused in awe-struck silence for a moment, and then Lorenzo struck -his horse with the spur, and dashed on up the terrace even among the -still hot fragments. "Ho! is there any one here?" he cried--"is there -any one here? For the love of God, answer if there be! Ride round to -the back, Antonio. Parisot, take that other way to the left. See if -you can find any to answer. But be quick--be quick! there is no time -to spare."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what would you do, my lord?" asked Antonio, in a sad tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pursue the villains to the gates of hell!" cried Lorenzo. "I will, I -tell you! quick!"</p> - -<p class="normal">More than once Lorenzo repeated the shout, "Ho! is there any one -there?" while the men were absent, and sometimes he would think of -sending some of the men down to a small peasant-house he saw about -half a mile below, and then he would remember that he might need them -all at a moment's notice; and often would he mutter words to himself, -such as "They dare not resist a French pennon. What if they do? Then -die. Better to die a thousand times than live to think of her in their -hands."</p> - -<p class="normal">The few minutes the men were absent passed thus as if in a dream; but -at length Antonio re-appeared, bringing a man with him pressed tightly -by the arm. It was a peasant of the middle age, who seemed somewhat -unwilling to come where he was led, and was evidently afraid; but, if -one might judge from the expression of his face, the dull, heavy look -of despair, there was sorrow mingled with his fear.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You need not hold me so hard, signor," he said, in the rich but -somewhat rough Tuscan tongue; "I will come. I only ran from you -because I thought you were a party of the band."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here!" cried Lorenzo, springing up to meet them; "tell me who has -done this. What of the ladies who were here? Where are they? What has -become of them? Speak, man, quick! I am half mad."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, signor, if you had seen your daughter carried away by ruffians -you might be whole mad," answered the peasant, and his eyes gushed -forth with tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am sorry for you from my heart," replied Lorenzo, in an altered -tone; "yet, my good friend, give me any information in your power. My -bride may be where your daughter is, and if so I will pursue them."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man gave a hopeless, nay, almost a contemptuous look at the -handful of men which followed the young lord.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never mind," said Lorenzo, well understanding what he meant; "only -tell me what you know, and leave the rest to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All I know is very little, signor," replied the man. "A little before -daybreak, when it was just grey, I heard a great many horses go by my -house yonder, coming this way, and, thinking it strange, I got up and -looked after them. I then saw it was a great band of armed men. My -heart misgave me, for my poor Judita was up here helping the people at -the villa. As fast as I could I crept through the vines; but of course -they were a long way before me, and I found that the way to the villa -was guarded. I know not how long I stayed, for if it had been but a -minute it would have seemed an hour, but I saw after awhile a bright -light in the windows of that big old tower, and then the windows of -the great new hall were all in a blaze. Everything had been silent -till then--at least I could not hear anything where I lay hid by that -big stone, covered with the old uva Sant Angelica--but just when -the glare came in the windows, there were sounds made themselves -heard--cries, and shrieks, and such noises as make men's hair stand on -end. Then a whole party came hurrying out, with a fine, handsome man -at their head--and he was laughing, too--who said to the first of -those that followed, 'Put them on the horses and away. You are sure -that fire has taken everywhere.' What the other answered I do not -know, for just then I caught sight of the women they were dragging -out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who were they?" said Lorenzo, eagerly. "It must have been day by that -time. You must have seen their faces."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I saw no one but my daughter, signor," said the poor man, simply; and -after a pause, he added, "and she was soon out of sight for ever. Her -body will be in the Arno or the Mugnione to-morrow, and we shall be -childless."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo's head drooped, and for some moments he kept silence. There -was an intensity of grief in the poor parent's tone which awed even -his grief.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Could you distinguish any of these men," he asked at length, "so as -to know them again?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I saw nothing very clearly," replied the other--"nothing but Judita; -only I know that one of the men called the other 'Monsignore.' He -looked to me more like a devil than a cardinal, and yet he was a -handsome man too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, you can see the band from here," said one of Lorenzo's -troop; they are taking the Pisa road. "They will fall in with our -outposts, if they do not mind."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, they must be followed, and, if possible, cut off," replied his -lord, who had now recovered some presence of mind. "If they take their -way toward Pisa we shall have them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your pardon, my lord," said Antonio, "but will it not be better to go -up to the monastery, and make inquiries there? Depend upon it, the -good fathers did not stand looking on at the burning of the villa -without marking all, if they did not do all they could. They had no -daughters in the villa, and saw more than this poor man, depend upon -it. Five minutes will take you thither. You can see one of the towers -up yonder, just above the tree-tops."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well bethought," replied his lord; "we may, indeed, hear tidings -there. But we must not lose sight of the enemy. Parisot, ride on to -the verge of the rocks there. You can see them thence for ten miles, -at least, I should think. Keep good watch upon them. All the rest stay -here. I will be back speedily;" and, so saying, with Antonio for a -guide, he rode on.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">How much accident sometimes serves us--nay, how often our own -follies -and indiscretions lead us to better results than our wisdom and -prudence could have attained!</p> - -<p class="normal">"Conduct is fate," "Knowledge is power," are the favourite doctrines -of those who believe they have conduct, or presume they have -knowledge. Carried to the infinite, both axioms are true, but in every -degree below the infinite they are false; and oh, how false with man! -Every abstract, indeed, is often found to be a practical falsehood. -The wisest and the best of men, from Socrates to Galileo, have, by the -purest conduct, won the worst of fates; and power, either to do good -or evil, slipped from the hands of Bacon just when he reached the acme -of his knowledge. It seems as if God himself were pleased to rebuke -continually the axioms of human vanity, and to show man that no -conduct can overrule his will--no knowledge approach even to the steps -of power.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was unfortunate for Lorenzo that he had imprudently left all his -men but Antonio below. There were two old monks sitting on the rocks -just before the great gates of the monastery, and talking with each -other earnestly. Both started and rose when they heard the sound of -horses' feet; but as the place where they stood commanded a full view -down the road, they could see at once that the party which approached -was not formidable in point of numbers.</p> - -<p class="normal">In troublous times men built their houses for defence as well as -shelter, and the monks had found it necessary to use even as much -precaution as their more mundane brethren. The monastery was well -walled, and the rocks on which it stood were fortifications in -themselves; but all the skill of the builder had been expended upon -the great gates, which were assailable from the road leading directly -to them. Two massy towers, however, one on either side, a portcullis -with its herse ready to fall on the heads of any enemies who -approached too near, a deep arch behind that, with loop-holes in the -dark, shadowy sides, and machicolations above, and then two heavy -iron-plated doors, gave sufficient defence against anything but -cannon, which were not likely to be dragged up those heights.</p> - -<p class="normal">One of the monks, as soon as he had satisfied himself of the number of -the approaching party, seated himself again on the rock; the other -retreated a few steps as if to re-enter the building, but stopped just -under the portcullis.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What seek you, my son?" said the first, as Lorenzo rode up and drew -in his rein by his side. "We are in great trouble this morning, and -the prior, though unwilling to stint our vowed hospitality, has -commanded that no one be admitted."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I came to seek intelligence regarding those most dear to me, father," -replied Lorenzo; "there has been a terrible act committed at the Villa -Morelli down below."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas! alas!" said the old man, "a terrible act indeed."</p> - -<p class="normal">The monk at the gate had by this time drawn nearer, and was looking -steadfastly at Antonio. "Why, surely," he said, "I saw you at the -villa some weeks ago with the ladies Francesca and Leonora."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly," replied Antonio; "you came down seeking Brother Benevole, -and stayed for an hour to hear of what was doing at Naples. It is -those two ladies we are seeking. My young lord set out last night from -Pisa, and we have travelled all night, for the purpose of visiting the -Signora Leonora and Madonna Francesca, and when we arrive we find -nothing but ruin and destruction."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas! alas!" said the old monk who was seated on the rock, fixing a -very keen, and Lorenzo thought a very meaning, look upon the other -friar; "alas! alas! it is very terrible."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But can you give me any information respecting these ladies, good -fathers?" asked the young lord, somewhat impetuously. "If you knew how -closely I am connected with them, you would comprehend what I would -give for even the slightest information regarding them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas! we can give you none, my son," answered the old man; "can we, -Brother Thomas? In the grey of the morning we were disturbed by the -coming of that fiend in the shape of a man, and some of us ran out -when they heard the cries and saw the flames, but the prior recalled -us all by the bell, and made us shut the gates and keep quite close -within till the man and his company was gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of whom are you speaking, father?" asked Lorenzo, abruptly. "Whom do -you call 'the man' and 'that fiend'?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you not know?" exclaimed the monk. "I mean that demon, enemy of -God and man, calling himself Cæsar, Cardinal of Borgia."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He shall answer me for this, if it be in the Vatican!" said Lorenzo, -setting his teeth hard. "Come, Antonio, I must follow these men, and -may chance to bring those upon them who will take a bloody vengeance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay a moment, my lord," whispered Antonio; "there is more to be got -here--there is some news, and it may be good news, lying hid -somewhere. If they saw nothing but what the good monk says, how does -he know it was Don Cæsar? Let me deal with him. Good Father -Sylvester," he continued aloud----</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is not my name, my son," said the monk upon the rock. "I am -called Fra Nicolo, though sometimes men call me Fra Discreto."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, good Father Nicolo, then," said Antonio, "my young lord here, -Signor Lorenzo Visconti, Knight, proposes to pursue yonder company of -wicked men and bring upon them the whole power of the King of France, -whose cousin he is."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He will do a good deed," said the old monk, drily.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, good father, he cannot do so," said Antonio, "without food for -his horses and men, and drink also. Now I will crave Fra Tomaso here -to go into the prior, and tell him of our case. Ask him to speak with -my young lord in person, for he has a dozen or two of men below, and -as many horses, but he did not choose to approach your peaceful gates -with such a force."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Brother Thomas can do as he pleases," said the old monk, "but I don't -think the prior can feed so many, especially the horses; so there is -not much use of his going."</p> - -<p class="normal">Fra Tomaso, however, thought differently, for he immediately turned to -go into the convent; and Antonio, who had dismounted a moment or two -before, went with him as far as the inner gate, whispering eagerly in -his ear all the time. Lorenzo did not perceive that the friar answered -anything, but Antonio's face was much more cheerful when he returned -than it had been after witnessing the ruin of the Villa Morelli.</p> - -<p class="normal">The old monk who remained did not appear to have any great benevolence -in his nature, or it was not excited by Lorenzo and his servant. "It -is useless," he said--"all useless. There is the prior's mule: that is -all we have."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, we and our horses are soon satisfied," said Antonio, in his usual -tone. "We only want a little hay and water for ourselves and a little -white bread and wine for our horses."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think you are mocking me, my son," said the monk, with a very -cloudy brow. "I do not bear mocking well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet your Heavenly Master was both mocked and scourged," said -Antonio, "and he uttered not a word."</p> - -<p class="normal">How far the dispute might have gone between Antonio and Fra -Discreto or Nicolo, had it remained uninterrupted much longer, it is -difficult to say, for the worthy monk was evidently waxing irate; but -at that moment came, almost running forth from the gates, a portly, -jovial-looking friar of some fifty-five or sixty years of age, who -took Antonio in his arms, and gave him a mighty hug. "Welcome! -welcome, my son!" cried Fra Benevole, for he it was; "thrice welcome -at this moment, when we need better comfort than wine can give -us--though, Heaven bless the Pulciano, it was the only thing that did -me good at first. Now this is your young lord, I warrant, of whom you -told me so much, and whom the signorina loves so well."</p> - -<p class="normal">The very reference to Leonora's name brought down upon the jovial monk -a whole host of questions, but he gave a suspicious look to the old -man, who still continued to oppress the rock, and he likewise -professed inability to answer. But there was something in his manner -which renewed hope in the bosom of Lorenzo, though it did not remove -apprehension. He had spoken of Leonora in the present tense too, not -in the past, and that was something.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But come to my cell," he cried; "come and rest, and have some light -refreshment; for though I must touch nothing myself, for these three -hours, I can always cater for my friends."</p> - -<p class="normal">His face was turned toward Lorenzo as he spoke, as if the invitation -was principally directed toward him, and the young nobleman answered, -"I am afraid, good father, I must await the return of Fra Tomaso, who -has gone to bear a message to the prior."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Brother Thomas will know where to find you," replied Benevole. -"It was he who told me of your arrival and sent me to you. He will be -sure to seek you first in my cell."</p> - -<p class="normal">But the monk's hospitable intentions were frustrated by the appearance -of Tomaso himself, followed by no less dignified a person than the -prior himself, a nobleman by birth and a churchman of fair reputation. -Lorenzo dismounted to meet him, and their greetings were courteous, if -not warm.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will beg you, my lord," the prior said, "to repose in my apartments -for a time, while your horses and men are cared for by the monastery. -All attention shall be paid to their wants and comfort, and if you -will explain to Brother Benevole where they are exactly, he will have -them brought up to the strangers' lodging."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are down by the ruins of the villa," said Lorenzo, "and one man -must remain there to watch that brutal band, for, God willing, they -shall not escape punishment. But I beseech you, reverend father, give -my mind some ease as to the fate----"</p> - -<p class="normal">The prior bowed his head with graceful dignity, saying, "Of that -presently, my son; let us always trust in God. As to your sentinel, -neither he nor any need remain. We have a watchman in the campanile of -the church. He can see farther than any one below, and will mark -everything at least as well. I lead the way."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo followed, leaving Antonio with his friend Benevole and the -horses, and the prior conducted him through a wide court, past the -church, and through the cloister-court to a suite of apartments which -spoke more the habits of a somewhat luxurious literary man than a -severe ecclesiastic.</p> - -<p class="normal">"These are, by right," said the prior, "the apartments of the abbot; -but an election, as it is called, has not been held for some years, -and may not, perhaps, till a new pope blesses the Church. Pray be -seated, my lord. I see you are impatient," he added, closing the door, -and looking round to assure himself that what he said could not be -overheard. "Set your mind at rest. She for whom I know you feel the -deepest interest has not been injured."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But is she free? Have not those men carried her off, as they did -others?" exclaimed Lorenzo, in as much impatience as ever.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is safe--she is in no danger," replied the prior; "let that -suffice you for the present. If you proposed to follow those daring, -wicked men to rescue her from their hands, the attempt would have been -madness and without object, for she is not with them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let me be sure that we speak of the same person," said Lorenzo, still -unsatisfied.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of the Signorina Leonora d'Orco," replied the monk.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank God! oh, thank God!" exclaimed Lorenzo, with a deep sigh. "And -Mona Francesca?" he asked, after a pause; "you have said nothing of -her fate, reverend father."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas! my son," replied the prior, "her fate has been perhaps less -happy, perhaps more so than that of her younger and fairer companion. -It will be as God's grace is granted to her. Let us speak no more of -this. Have you anything else to ask?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Simply this," replied Lorenzo; "you are doubtless aware, father, as -you seem to have full knowledge of my relations with the Signora -d'Orco, that she is my promised wife, with the full consent of her -father and the blessing of the good Cardinal Julian de Rovera. It is -absolutely necessary that I should see her, and see her speedily, as I -am obliged to rejoin his Majesty of France at an early hour -to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear, my son, that is not possible," said the prior; but the door -opened to admit some of the <i>servitory</i> of the monastery bearing more -than one kind of food and wine, and the good monk stopped suddenly in -his reply. As soon as the refreshments had been spread on a small -stone table, and the room was again clear, he pressed Lorenzo to take -some meat and wine, saying, "I can speak to you while you eat, my -son."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo seated himself at the table, and, before he ate anything, -filled the large silver goblet with wine, and drank it off. The mind -was more depressed by anxiety than the body by fatigue. The monk -watched him; for, removed as he was from much active participation in -the world's affairs, he had long been a spectator of the great tragedy -of human life, and comprehended at once, by slight indications, what -was passing in the shadow of the bosoms around him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear it is impossible, my son," he said, "that you should see the -lady so speedily as you wish. I can communicate with her, it is true, -and can procure for you, under her own hand, assurance which you -cannot doubt, that she is, as I have told you, safe and well; but more -I cannot promise."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Father, I do not doubt you," said Lorenzo, ceasing from his meal -before more than one mouthful had been tasted. "You would not deceive -me, I am sure; but you cannot tell what I feel--you cannot comprehend -what I endure, and shall endure till I see her again--till I can clasp -her to my heart, and, after she has escaped such a peril, thank God, -with her, for her preservation. In your blessed exemption from the -passions as well as the cares of secular life, you cannot even imagine -the eager, the burning desire I feel to see her, to touch her hand, to -assure myself by every sense that she is safe--that she is mine. Could -you conceive it, you would find or force a way to bring me to her -presence ere I depart for France."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My son, you are mistaken," said the prior, in a tone of solemn, even -melancholy earnestness. "I can conceive the whole. God help us, poor -sinful mortals that we are. When we renounce the world we renounce its -indulgences; but can we, do we, renounce its passions? How many a -heart beneath the cowl--ay, beneath the mitre--thrills with all the -warmest impulses of man's nature! How many--how terrible are the -struggles, not to subdue the unsubduable passions, but to curb and -regulate them; to bring them into subjection to an ever-present sense -of duty; to chasten, not to kill the most fiery portion of our -immortal essence! My son, you are mistaken; I can conceive your -feelings--nay, I can feel with you and for you. God forbid that, as -some do, I should say these impulses, these sentiments, these -sensations are unconquerable, and therefore must be indulged. On -such principles let the Borgias act. But I say that we--even we -churchmen--must tolerate their existence in our hearts while we -refrain from their indulgence, and that thereby we retain that -sympathy with our fellow-mortals which best enables us to counsel them -aright under all temptations. I will do my best for you, and, if it be -possible, you shall see your Leonora for a time. When must you go -hence?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should set out by sun-down, father," replied Lorenzo; "the King of -France must make a hasty march. Would to Heaven indeed it had been -hastier, for the news we have is bad."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can you not remain behind?" said the monk; "you are an Italian, and -not his subject, and it might serve many an excellent purpose if you -could tarry here even for a few days."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It cannot be, father," answered the young man; "were I to follow my -own will, I would remain for ever by Leonora's side, but I am bound to -King Charles by every tie of gratitude and honour. Those, indeed, I -fear me, I might break in any common circumstance, and trust the king -would pardon me upon the excuse of love; but, father, this is a moment -when I dare not, for my honour, be absent from his force. There are -dangers before and all around him. A battle must be fought ere we can -cut our way to France. His army is small enough, and even one weak -hand may turn the chance for or against him. I had hoped indeed, and I -will own it frankly, that my beloved girl, with her father's full -sanction to our union, which she has, would have consented to be mine -by a hasty marriage, and go with me to France; but, alas! I fear----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My son, my son," exclaimed the monk, in a reproachful tone, "you -would not surely dream of taking her into such scenes of danger as you -speak of: nay, that is selfish."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is she not in greater danger here in Tuscany?" asked Lorenzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is in none, I trust," replied the prior. "It was imprudent, -beyond doubt, to come in such times as these to a defenceless villa; -but in Florence she will be safe as any one can be where wrong and -rapine rage as here in Italy. But what you wish is quite impossible. -If you have duties that must take you hence, she has duties also that -must bind her here. I will keep my promise with you; but you must give -up vain wishes and purposes that cannot be executed. She herself will -tell you that it is impossible. Stay a moment; I must ask some -questions."</p> - -<p class="normal">The prior rose and left the room. He did not close the door behind -him, and Lorenzo heard him give orders to some one without to go up to -the belfry and ascertain if anything could still be seen of the party -who had burned the villa. That done, he rejoined his young guest, but -did not renew the conversation, merely pressing him to eat. In a few -moments, a good fat monk rolled into the room, and announced that the -party of the Borgias were still in sight.</p> - -<p class="normal">"They have halted, and seem regaling themselves in the gardens of the -Villa Morone," he said; "but I see--at least I think I see, and so -does Brother Luigi--that there are movements taking place about the -gates of the city, and if they stay much longer the Signoria will most -likely send out troops to drive them hence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let them be watched well, good father, I beseech you," exclaimed -Lorenzo; "for if the Florentine troops come forth to attack them, I -will go down to help."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What an appetite have some men for fighting!" said the prior, making -the monk a sign to depart; "but, my son, you will be better here. -Though our gates and walls may set them at defiance, I do believe, yet -to know that we have some men whose trade is war within might save us -from attack. Now, my son, will you sit here and read, or go with me to -our church and hear high mass? The latter I would counsel, if your -mind be in a fitting state; if not, I never wish any one to attend the -offices of religion with wandering thoughts and inattentive ears."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go with you, father," said the young knight. "I have much to -be thankful for although some hopes may be disappointed; and my -thoughts, I trust, will not wander from my God when I have most cause -to praise Him for sparing to me still the most valuable of all the -blessings he has given me. But is it really the hour for high mass? -How the time flies from us!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It wants but a few minutes," said the prior. "Time does fly quickly -to all and every one; but it is only towards the close of life we -really feel how quickly it has flown. Then--then, my son, we know the -value of the treasures we have cast away neglected. Come, I will show -you the way. At the church door I must leave you, and perhaps may not -see you again for several hours; but you can find your way back here -and read or think, if the curiosity of our good brethren be too great -for your patience."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you promised," said Lorenzo, eagerly, "that I should see the -Signora Leonora for a time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If it be possible," replied the monk; "such was the tenor of my -promise, and it shall not be forgotten. I think it will be possible," -he added, seeing a shade of disappointment, or, rather, of anxiety, -upon Lorenzo's brow; "but the continued presence of those bad men in -the valley scares away from us those we most need at the present -moment."</p> - -<p class="normal">He explained himself no further, but led the way onward to the church.</p> - -<p class="normal">It cannot perhaps be said that the attention of the young nobleman was -not sometimes diverted from the office in which he came to take part; -but there was a soothing influence in the music, and a still more -comforting balm in the very act of prayer. They who reject religion -little know the strength and the consolation, the vigour and the -assurance which is derived even from the acknowledgment of our -dependence upon a Being whom we know to be all-powerful and -all-good--how we can dare all, and endure all, and feel comfort in all -when we raise our hearts in faith to him who can do all for us. How -often in the course of each man's life has he to say--and oh! with -what different feelings and in what different circumstances is it -said--"Help, Lord, I sink!" Nor is it ever said without some -consolation; nor is it ever asked but it is granted--ay, some help is -granted, either in strength, or in resolution, or in patience, or in -deliverance. The fearful exclamation might show some want of faith in -him who had been eye-witness to a thousand miracles, but with us it -shows some faith also. We call upon whom we know to be able to help, -and in the hour of adversity or the moment of peril we remember the -Lord our God, and put our last, best trust in Him.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo had mounted the many steps leading to the top of the -belfry of -the church, and there, with the old monk who was keeping watch, he -gazed over the beautiful valley of the Arno. High--high up in the air -he stood, far above the rocks and treetops, with the whole country -round, as it were, mapped out before him. The sun was rapidly nearing -the horizon, and there was that undefinable transparent purple in the -atmosphere which in Italy precedes, for nearly an hour, the shades of -night; but yet all was still clear and bright, and the various objects -in the landscape could be distinguished perhaps more sharply than in -the full light of day.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There they go," said the old monk who was on watch, pointing with his -hand in the direction of the mountains. "They have a good guess that -the people of Florence would not have them here much longer, and so -they are taking themselves away."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo turned his eye in the direction to which the monk pointed, and -saw, winding along the mountain road to San Miniato, a long troop of -horse, evidently the same which had been ranging the Valley of the -Arno. He watched them over the several undulations of ground, now -disappearing, now rising again into sight, till at length the foremost -horseman reached the gap over the farthest hill in view, and one by -one they passed out of the range of vision, except a small party which -lingered for a moment or two on the side of the hill, as if taking a -survey of the country they were leaving, and then, following their -companions, disappeared.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must go down and tell the prior," said the monk; "but I may as well -ring the bell as I go, to let the people of the country know they are -gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he began to descend; but Lorenzo lingered still a few -minutes on the top of the tower, while the great bell below him tolled -out in quick, and, to his ear, joyful tones, the announcement to the -whole country round that the brutal marauders had departed. Hardly had -three or four strokes been given upon the bell when Lorenzo could -perceive a number of women issuing from the various peasants' houses -in sight, and taking their way by narrow mountain paths towards the -monastery or the villa.</p> - -<p class="normal">He followed the monk down, however, without much delay, and at the -base of the belfry found the old man talking with the prior between -the church and the tower.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come with me, my son," said the prior; "I can now keep my promise -with you;" and he led him on through the close around the church, -through the cloisters, and through a long, dimly-lighted passage, -which opened by a key at the prior's girdle, and the next moment -Lorenzo found himself in a small octagonal room, the arched ceiling of -which was supported by a light column in the centre. It seemed well -and tastefully furnished, and on one of the sides was a little recess, -where hung a crucifix and a vessel of holy water.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Wait here, my son, a few minutes," said the monk; "as soon as the -women come up from below, the signora will join you. She can remain -with you till the hour you have named for your departure. Be wise, be -good, and may God bless you and reunite you soon."</p> - -<p class="normal">The light in the room was very dim, for the windows consisted only of -those light plates of marble which have been mentioned before; and the -prior, turning before he departed, added, "I will bid her bring a -lamp, otherwise you will soon be in darkness."</p> - -<p class="normal">He went not out by the same door through which he had entered, and -Lorenzo could hear for some moments the fall of his sandal upon the -pavement, as if he were walking through a long and vaulted passage. -The sound ceased, and the young man's heart beat high with hope and -expectation; but still many a minute elapsed--and to him they seemed -long minutes indeed--before any sound again met his ear. Then there -was a slight rustle, with a quick, light footstep, and through the -chink of the door, which the prior had left ajar, came a ray of light -as from a lamp.</p> - -<p class="normal">But poor Lorenzo was to be again disappointed. True, the door opened, -and a female form appeared bearing a light; but it was that of a -country girl, who, setting down the lamp on the table, looked up in -Lorenzo's face with a frank good-humoured smile, saying:</p> - -<p class="normal">"The signora will be here as soon as I get back to attend on Mona -Francesca."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, she tripped away, and in a few moments more, a sound not -to be mistaken met Lorenzo's ear, the well known fall of Leonora's -foot, which had so often made his heart thrill in the halls of the -Villa Rovera.</p> - -<p class="normal">He could not wait till she had reached the room, but ran along the -passage to meet her, and then she was in his arms, and then their lips -were pressed together in all the warmth of young and passionate love, -and then her face was hid upon his bosom, and the tears poured forth -abundantly; and then he kissed them away, and, with his arm cast round -her, and her hand in his, he led her into the room to which the prior -had conducted him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Let us pass over some five or ten minutes, for all was now a tumult -and confusion of sensations, and words, and caresses, which it would -be difficult to distinguish, and which had meaning only for those who -felt and heard them.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, when some degree of calmness was restored, the quick and -eager explanations followed. Leonora told him how the news of the -king's arrival at Pisa had been brought two days before by the -peasantry, and how she had waited, and watched, and could not sleep, -and rose while day was yet infirm and pale, in order not to lose one -moment of his beloved company. Then she told him that on the morning -of that eventful day she had left her bed early, and was hardly -dressed when the sound of horses' feet on the road had made her start -to the window in the joyful hope that they had come at length. She saw -strange arms and strange faces by the pale light of morning, but still -she fancied they were French corps which she did not know; and, -imagining that he must have dismounted and entered before his -companions, she ran along the broad corridor to meet him. To her -surprise and terror, however, she saw a stranger gorgeously habited -and followed by two men in arms, and turning suddenly back, she fled -towards her own apartments. She heard her own name called aloud, she -said, and a sweet and musical voice bidding her stop; but, as if it -were by instinct, she continued her flight. Then came a fierce oath, -and an angry command to follow and bring her back.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In Heaven's name, how did you escape, my beloved?" exclaimed Lorenzo, -pressing her closely to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Most happily," replied Leonora; "Mona Francesca--it was but -yesterday--had made a great exertion for her, and shown me all the -apartments of the villa, the passages, the corridors, and even the -private way, which her husband constructed before his death, from the -old part of the villa to the monastery above. He was a very pious man, -she said, and often ascended by that passage to pray alone in the -church. I know not why, but I had remarked the passage particularly -and the secret door that led to it; and, without any reason that I -know of, I had opened and shut the door several times, as if to make -myself completely mistress of the means. It would almost seem that I -had a presentiment that my safety might depend upon it; and yet I do -not remember any such feeling at the time. Now, however, when I heard -the footsteps of the three men following me fast, I darted past my own -room, and, winged with fear, fled through the corridors toward the -apartments of Mona Francesca; but I heard voices and loud words in -that direction, and, turning sharply to the right through the old -stone hall, I came suddenly on the secret door, and had opened, passed -in, and closed it before I well knew what I was doing. I stopped as -soon as I had entered the passage, and leaned against the wall for -support, for I was terrified and out of breath with the rapidity of my -flight. Every moment I expected to hear them at the door, and, though -it was well concealed in the masonry, feared they might discover it -and break in. I suppose that my quickness in threading passages which -they did not know had puzzled them, for I heard no steps approach the -door while I stood there. But other and terrible sounds met my ear. I -heard the shrieks of women. Oh! dear Lorenzo, I heard the voice of my -own poor girl Judita crying for mercy; and I fled onward to the -monastery; hoping that the good monks might be able to give that help -which I could not give. I know not well how I came hither, but it was -through long passages, and up many flights of steps, and at last I -found myself in the church. Nor can I well describe to you all that -followed, for my brain seemed confused and stupified with terror. The -prior, and, indeed, all the monks, were very kind to me; but when I -besought them to go down and help the poor people in the villa, they -shook their heads sadly, and pointed to the red light that was rising -up over the tree-tops. The prior, however, brought me along these -passages to a room beyond--it is in one of the towers upon the walls, -I believe--and, leaving me there told me I should be safe, and that he -would go to see what could be done for my poor kinswoman. Oh, Lorenzo, -what a terrible half hour I passed there; and, at length, sorrow was -added to fear, for they bore in upon a pallet poor Mona Francesca, -living, it is true, and, I trust, likely to live, but dreadfully -burned; her neck, her face, her hands, all scorched and swollen, to -that you would not know her. She is suffering agony, and the livelong -day I have sat bathing her with water from the cool well. I have had -none to help me till a few minutes ago, for the peasant girls, it -seems, have been afraid to come up as long as these terrible men were -in sight. At length, however, the girl you saw just now arrived, and -then the prior told me you were here, but must depart tonight. Oh, -Lorenzo, is it so? and will you leave me again so soon?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo's tale had now to be related, and he told her all--the bond of -honour which he felt himself under to accompany the King of France, -and the hopes--the wild, delusive hopes--with which he had come -thither. Leonora listened sadly, and for a few moments after he had -done speaking she sat silent, with the tears glittering in her eyes, -but not overrunning the long black lashes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must go, Lorenzo," she said at length--"you must go. God forbid -that I should keep you when honour and duty call you hence, though my -selfish heart would say, 'Stay.' Oh that you had been a day earlier! -Then all this day's terrible agonies might have been spared us, and -even the pain of parting which is before us. Willingly--willingly, my -Lorenzo, would I have been your bride at an hour's notice, and I do -believe that poor Francesca would have gone with us. But now, oh -Lorenzo! you cannot ask me to leave her. I know you will not. If you -could see the agony she is suffering, you would not have the heart to -do it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo was silent, for the struggle in his bosom was terrible. She -spoke in such a tone that he thought he might still prevail if he had -but the hardness to press her urgently, and yet he felt that he should -esteem, if not love, her less if she yielded. He remained silent, for -he could not speak; but at length her sweet voice decided him. -"Lorenzo, strengthen me," she said; "I am very weak. Tell me--tell me -that it is my duty to remain--that not even love can justify such a -cruel, such an ungrateful act; and, as I tell you to go because honour -calls you away, oh bid me to stay because it is right to do so."</p> - -<p class="normal">He pressed her to his heart more fondly than ever; he covered her -brow, her cheeks, her lips, with kisses; he held her hand in his as if -he never could part with it, and but few more words were spoken till -the prior came to tell him his horses were prepared and his men -mounted. Then came the terrible parting.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Father," he said, "I leave her to your care. Oh! you can not tell -what a precious charge it is! In a few weeks I will return to claim -her as my own. Oh! watch over her till then. My brain seems disordered -with the very thought of the dangers that surround her in these days -of violence and wrong."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be calm, my son--be calm," said the prior. "Trust in a holier and -more powerful protector. He has saved her this day; He can save her -still. As for me, I will do all that weak man can do. But the first -thing is to remove her, as soon as may be, to the city. Even such holy -walls as these are no safeguard from the violence of man in these -days; but in the city she will be secure. And now, my son, come. Do -you not see how terribly a lingering parting agitates her? Do not -protract it, but come away at once, and then rejoin her again, as soon -as it is possible, to part no more."</p> - -<p class="normal">Both felt that what he said was just, and yet one long, last, -lingering embrace, and then it was over. All seemed darkness to the -eyes of Leonora d'Orco as she sat there alone. All seemed darkness to -Lorenzo Visconti as he rode away.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">This is a cold age of a cold world. Not more than one man or -woman, in -many, many thousands can sympathise with--nay, can conceive the warm, -the ardent love which existed between the two young hearts new -separated. But it must be remembered that theirs was an age and a land -of passion; and where that passion did not lead to vice and crime, it -obtained sublimity by its very intensity.</p> - -<p class="normal">It may be asked if such feelings were not likely to be evanescent--if -time, and absence, and new objects, and a change of age would not -diminish, if not extinguish the love of youth. Oh, no! Both were of -firm and determined natures; both clung long and steadily to -impressions once received; and yet, when they next met, how changed -were both!</p> - -<p class="normal">They were destined to be separated far longer than they anticipated, -and to show what was the reason and nature of the change they -underwent, it would be necessary to follow briefly the course of each -till the youth had become a man and the young girl a blossoming woman.</p> - -<p class="normal">When Lorenzo reached Pisa with his little band, he found the army of -the King of France about to march; indeed, the vanguard had already -gone forward. In the retreat, however, the corps of men-at-arms to -which he was attached brought up the rear, and thus he was spared the -horror of seeing the butchery committed by the Swiss infantry at -Pontremoli.</p> - -<p class="normal">Riding slowly on by the side of his commander and friend, De Vitry, he -conversed with him from time to time, but with thoughts far away and -an insurmountable sadness of spirits. Indeed, the elder was full of -light and buoyant gaiety; the younger was cold and stern. The cause -was very plain; the one was leaving her whom he loved, the other -approaching nearer every day to the dwelling of Blanche Marie. Many a -danger and difficulty, however, hung upon the path before them. Hourly -news arrived of gathering troops and marching forces, of passages -occupied, and ambuscades; and at length, in descending from the -Apennines towards the banks of the Taro, near its head, the scouts -brought in intelligence that the allied forces were encamped at Badia, -determined to oppose the passage of the river. It soon became evident -that a battle must be fought somewhere between the small town of -Fornovo and Badia, and the great numerical superiority of the -confederate army rendered the chances rather desperate for France. -With the light-hearted courage of the French soldier, however, both -men and officers prepared for the coming event as gaily as for a -pageant, but the lay and clerical counsellors of the king saw all the -dangers, and lost heart. Again they had recourse to negotiation, and -the confederate princes, with cunning policy, seemed willing for a -time to sell, for certain considerations, a passage towards Lombardy -to the King of France. They knew that Fornovo, where he was encamped, -could only afford a few days' supply of provisions, and there is every -reason to believe that they hoped, by delaying decision from day to -day, to starve the royal army into a surrender. The king's counsellors -might perhaps have been deceived; but his generals saw through the -artifice, and it was determined at length to force the passage of the -Taro.</p> - -<p class="normal">I need not enter into all the details of the battle of Fornovo, the -only one at which the young King of France was ever present, but it is -well known that if in the engagement he did not show all the qualities -of a great commander, he displayed all the gallantry of his nature and -his race. By sheer force of daring courage and indomitable resolution -the passage was forced, and not by skill or stratagem. More than once -the king's life or liberty was in imminent danger; and once he was -saved by the boldness of a common foot-soldier, once rescued out of -the very hands of the enemy, by Lorenzo Visconti. It may easily be -believed that the affection which existed between the young king and -his gallant cousin was increased by the service rendered, and to the -hour of Charles's death Lorenzo received continued marks of his -regard, though some of them, indeed, proved baleful to the young man's -peace.</p> - -<p class="normal">The victory at Fornovo proved only so far beneficial to the King of -France as to enable him to negotiate with his adversaries from a -higher ground. Slowly he advanced toward Milan, in order to deliver -the Duke of Orleans, who, in bringing reinforcements to the monarch's -aid, had been drawn into Novara and besieged by the superior forces of -Ludovic the Moor. The position of both armies was dangerous. That of -the king was lamentably reduced in numbers, and little was to be hoped -from the French garrison in Novara, which was enfeebled by famine and -sickness.</p> - -<p class="normal">The army of the Duke of Milan, on the other hand, had much diminished -since he commenced the siege, and his ancient enemies, the Venetians, -were daily gaining a preponderance in Italy, which he saw would be -perilous to his authority. The usual resource of negotiation followed. -Peace was re-established between Charles and Ludovic Sforza. Novara -was surrendered to the latter, but the Duke of Orleans was suffered to -march out with all the honours of war, yielding up the city in -conformity with the terms of a treaty of peace, and not of a -capitulation wrung from him by force of arms.</p> - -<p class="normal">The king paused for a short time in Lombardy; festivities and -rejoicings succeeded to the din of war; large reinforcements from -France swelled his army to more than its original numbers, and for -some time the idea was entertained at the court that Naples would be -again immediately invaded, and its conquest rendered more complete. -But hour by hour, and day by day, came intelligence from that kingdom -more and more disastrous for the cause of France. A fleet of French -galleys suffered a disastrous defeat; the people of Naples rose -against the small French force remaining in the city, and drove them -into the two citadels; town after town returned to the allegiance of -the House of Arragon; and the very day after the Battle of Fornovo the -young King Ferdinand re-entered in triumph his ancient capital.</p> - -<p class="normal">These events might well cause a change of purpose at the court of -France; the work of reducing the kingdom of Naples was all to be done -over again; and it was impossible for even the most oily flatterers of -the king to conceal the fact that the attempt would be attended by -difficulties which had not been experienced in the previous -expedition. In fact, the people of Naples had learned what it was to -submit to the yoke of France; all their vain expectations had been -disappointed; they had found the burden intolerable; they had cast it -off, and were resolved to die rather than receive it again.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meantime, however, from the aspect of the court and camp of -France, no one could have supposed that it was a time of disaster and -distress; all was gaiety, merriment, and lighthearted irregularity; -and friendships and loves, which had been formed the preceding year, -were now renewed as if neither coldness nor hostilities had -intervened.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the midst of all these events a small party left the camp of the -King of France and took its way toward the city of Pavia. They went -lightly armed, as if upon some expedition of pleasure, and, indeed, -the country for fifty miles on the other side of the Po was quite safe -and free from all adverse forces; but beneath the Apennines on either -side lay the armies of the confederates, blockading every pass, and -cutting off communication between Northern and Southern Italy, except -by sea. Thus, with no offensive and but little defensive armour, the -party rode securely on till they reached the gates of the Villa -Rovera, where the two first horsemen dismounted and entered the -gardens.</p> - -<p class="normal">The aspect of all things about the villa was greatly changed since -Lorenzo and De Vitry had been there before. There was a stillness, a -gloomy quietness about the place which somewhat alarmed them both. In -the great hall was seated but one servant, and when they inquired of -him for the old count and the young lady, he answered,</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas! my lords, you do not know that his excellency is at the point -of death."</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the state of affairs when Lorenzo and his friend reached the -dwelling of Blanche Marie, and what resulted from it must be told -hereafter.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">In change lies all our joy; in change lies all our pain. -Change is the -true Janus whose two faces are always looking different ways. I know -not whether it may please the reader, but I must change the place and -the time, and change it so suddenly and so far as to pass over for a -time, events not only interesting in themselves, but affecting deeply -the fate of those who have formed the principal objects of my history. -Yet it must be so, for there are inexorable laws established by judges -against whom is no appealing, which limit the teller of a tale to a -certain space; and were I to relate in detail all the events which -occupied the two years succeeding the events last mentioned in this -book, I should far transgress the regulations of the craft, and -perhaps exhaust the patience of my readers. Those events, therefore, -must be gathered from others which followed, and, indeed, perhaps this -is the best, as it certainly is the shortest way of giving them to the -public.</p> - -<p class="normal">There is a fine old chateau in the south of France, two towers of -which are still standing, and hardly injured by the tooth of time. I -have a picture of it before me by the hand of one who, born in lofty -station and of surpassing excellence, was, as a beacon at a port of -refuge, raised high to direct aright all who approached her, who lived -not only honoured, but beloved, and has not left a nobler or a better -behind. Her eye can never see these lines; her ear can never hear -these words; but I would that this work were worthy to be a monument -more lasting than brass, to write on it an epitaph truer than any that -ever consoled the living or eulogised the dead.</p> - -<p class="normal">I have the picture before me, with two great towers standing on the -wooded hill, with vineyards at the foot, and many a ruined fragment -scattered round, showing where the happy and the gay once trod, and -commenting silently upon the universal doom. Oh! a ruin is the best -<i>memento mori</i>, for it tells not the fate of one, but of many -generations, and gives to death that universality which most impresses -the mind and most prepares the heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">Those buildings were all fresh, and many of them new at the time of -which I write. Not a century had passed since the first stone of the -whole edifice was laid; and sumptuously furnished, after the fashion -of those times, was the great suite of rooms occupying one floor of -both those great towers and of the connecting building, now fallen.</p> - -<p class="normal">In one of these rooms was a fine hall, lighted by windows of -many-coloured glass, with two oriels or bays penetrating the thick -walls and projecting into air, supported by light brackets and corbels -of stonework without. The floor of those bays was raised two or three -steps above the ordinary level of the hall, and each formed, as it -were, a separate room within the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">In one of those bays, just two years after the event which closed the -last chapter, sat a tall, powerful man of perhaps thirty-six years of -age, dressed in those gorgeous garments of peace which were common to -the higher classes in that day. His face was somewhat weather-beaten; -there was a scar upon his cheek and on his hand, and the short, -curling hair over the forehead had been somewhat worn away by the -pressure of the helmet. On the back of the head and on the temples it -flowed in unrestrained luxuriance, somewhat grey, indeed, but with the -deep brown predominating.</p> - -<p class="normal">At his knee, on a stool of Genoa velvet--it was her favourite -seat--was a beautiful girl, seemingly sixteen or seventeen years of -age, fair as a snow-drop, with light, flowing hair, and eyes of -violet-blue, deep fringed and tender. Her head rested against his -side, her arm lay negligently upon his knee, and those blue eyes were -turned towards his face with a look of love--nay, almost of adoration.</p> - -<p class="normal">They were De Vitry and Blanche Marie, some two months after their -marriage. Her good old grandsire, on his bed of death, had committed -her to the guardianship of the King of France, with the request that -in two years he would bestow her hand upon the gallant soldier, if she -loved him still. Nor had that love for a moment faltered, while, under -the care of fair Anne of Brittany, she had passed the allotted time at -the court of France; and now she was happy--oh! how supremely blessed -with him whose character, without shade or concealment, with all its -faults and all its perfections, had stood plain and straightforward -from the first.</p> - -<p class="normal">But why does De Vitry turn his eyes so often towards the window and -gaze forth upon the road, which, winding down from the castle, ploughs -its way through the thick vineyard, and, crossing the Isere by its -bridge of stone, ascends the opposite slopes?</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is he coming, love?" said Blanche Marie. "Do you see him, De Vitry? -yes, you do; there is the falcon look in your eyes. They are upon -something now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How can I tell what it is at this distance, lady mine?" answered her -husband; "falcon, indeed, if I could see so far. There is a dark -something moving yonder on the far verge of the hills. It may be a -train of horsemen; it may be some country carts, for aught I know. -But, Madame Blanche," he added, casting his right arm round her, "by -my fay, I shall be jealous of this Lorenzo, if you are so eager for -his coming."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Out, false knight," she answered; "I defy you to be jealous of any -man on earth. To make you jealous, is alas! beyond my power, for like -a foolish girl, I have let you know too well how much I love you."</p> - -<p class="normal">She spoke gaily, but the moment after she said, in a saddened tone:</p> - -<p class="normal">"But poor Lorenzo! he is so unfortunate--so unhappy, De Vitry. I may -well wish for my cousin's coming when I know that only with you and me -he finds any consolation. And yet every time I see him I feel almost -self-reproach, as if I had a share in making him so miserable. I loved -her so; I believed her so good, so noble, so kind, that I foolishly -planned their marriage long before they ever met, and did all I could -to promote their love when they did meet; and now to think that she -should be so faithless, so cold, so cruel, when she knows he loves her -more than life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is indeed strange," said De Vitry with a clouded brow; "she seemed -to me as she seemed to you, one of the noblest girls I ever saw. She -is not married yet, however. That story is false. I saw a messenger -from Rome three days ago. He says she is living with her father, who -is now one of the vicars in the Church in Romagna, and she is -certainly unmarried."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is but poor consolation for Lorenzo," replied Blanche Marie; "he -has too much pride, too much nobility of heart, to take her hand now, -were it offered him after such conduct."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust he has," said De Vitry; "and were I he, I would cast her from -my thoughts for ever. Beauty is something, my love, but there must be -goodness, too; otherwise one might as well fall in love with a -picture, my dear girl. But tell me, Blanche, when last she wrote to -you did she show any such signs of strange caprice?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is near eighteen months since she wrote at all," replied the young -wife, "and then her billet, it is true, was somewhat strange and -constrained, but it gave no indication of such a change. Oh, how happy -is it, De Vitry, to have a constant heart? How dreadful it must be to -see one we love change toward us without cause. It is that which makes -me pity Lorenzo so much, for it is plain he loves her still.</p> - -<p class="normal">"We must have that away," said her husband; "he must be reasoned with, -amused, engaged in some new pursuit, my Blanche. I will do my best, -and you must help me. Look there! upon my life 'tis he. Those are -mounted men coming down the hill; but they are bringing thunder with -them, and if they do not ride faster the storm will catch them ere -they reach us. Do you not see those clouds rising above the trees, -looking as hard as iron and as grey as lead. By my faith! dear lass, -you have never seen a storm in the valley of the Isere, and it is -something to see. I have been in many lands, my Blanche, but I never -beheld any like it, when the clouds rolled down from the mountains -like black smoke, pouring forth a deluge such as no other part of the -world has ever been soaked with since the days of Noah. In less than -half an hour you will see the valley a lake, and the bridge quite -covered. Your little heart will rejoice to think that the castle is -built upon a hill, for I never saw the water come higher than the edge -of the vineyard there."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Does it come as high as that?" exclaimed Blanche, with a look of -alarm; "why, how will Lorenzo cross!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He will not be able to cross at all unless he make more haste," -answered her husband. "Pardieu, I cannot guess what has come to him; -he who, for the last eighteen months, has never ridden up hill or down -dale at less than a gallop, as if some devil were tempting him to -break his own neck or his horse's, is now creeping down the hill as if -he were at a funeral or a procession."</p> - -<p class="normal">By this time De Vitry had risen and gone near the open window. The sun -had near an hour to run before its course for the day would be ended. -The clouds, as he said, were rapidly and heavily descending the -mountains, and the rain could be seen at the distance of three or four -miles sweeping the valley like a black pall. The sun was still shining -bright and clear upon the chateau, and the bridge, and the vineyard. -But a moment after De Vitry had taken his place, a redder and a -fiercer light blazed fitfully across the scene, followed a few moments -after by a peal of thunder which seemed to shake the castle to its -foundations.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, come away, De Vitry, come away," cried Blanche Marie; "the -lightning might strike you at that open window."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Vitry turned round his head with a laugh, calling her a little -coward, and then resumed his watch again upon the party of horsemen -coming down the opposite hill.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ride fast," cried the marquis, "or you will not be in time; but -what are all the people thinking of? they have lost their way."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke the party on whom his eyes were fixed turned from the -direct road toward the chateau, and took a smaller path, which, -slanting along the hill side, led down the stream.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lorenzo is not among them," said De Vitry, abruptly; "he knows the -way here as well as I do, my love; but that party of fools will get -into a scrape if they do not mind; there is no shelter for ten miles -down the river, and the road on the bank will be under water in ten -minutes. Ha! they have seen their mistake, and are turning back. Now -ride hard, my gallants, and you may reach the bridge yet."</p> - -<p class="normal">The lightning now flashed nearer, the thunder followed close upon its -flaming messenger, the heavy drops of rain began to fall, and poor -Blanche Marie, who had much more taste for the beauties than the -sublimities of nature, covered her face with her hands, while her -heart beat quick. The next moment she felt a warm and kindly kiss upon -her brow, and the voice of De Vitry said--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take courage, love, take courage; God is everywhere. In His hand we -stand, as much in that fierce blaze and amid that thunder roar, as in -the gay saloon with nothing but music near. Do not fear, my Blanche, -but remember you will soon have guests to entertain. These gentlemen -are coming hither. They have passed the bridge just in time, and five -minutes will see them in this hall. I would not have them say that De -Vitry's wife is afraid of a little thunder."</p> - -<p class="normal">Blanche took her fingers from her eyes, and, looking up with a smile, -put De Vitry's great strong hand on her beating heart, and pressed her -own delicate hand upon it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"See, De Vitry," she said, "just as your hand is stronger than my -hand, so is your heart firmer than my heart. Mine is a very weak one, -husband, but I will show no fear before your guests. I will be very -brave."</p> - -<p class="normal">The words were hardly uttered when there came another flash, and -Blanche's promised bravery did not prevent her from starting and -covering her eyes again; and De Vitry, with a laugh, turned to the -window and gazed forth once more.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By Heaven!" he exclaimed, "it is his highness the Duke of Orleans. I -heard he was coming down to Valence, but never dreamed of his coming -here. It is lucky the castle lies so near the road. But I must down -and meet him;" and he hastily quitted the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">Blanche was left for some time alone to give way to all her terrors at -the storm, without any one to laugh at them, for De Vitry took every -hospitable care of his royal guest, and spared his young wife the -trouble of giving those orders for the entertainment of the duke and -his train which Blanche might have found it difficult to think of in -the perturbation of her mind at the time.</p> - -<p class="normal">As every one knows, the storms on the Isere are frequently as brief as -they are fierce; and the one in question was passing away when De -Vitry led into the hall the Duke of Orleans, now clothed in fresh and -dry garments.</p> - -<p class="normal">Always courteous and gentle in demeanour, the Duke of Orleans, -afterwards Louis XII. of France, applied himself to put his -entertainers at their ease. He took Blanche's hand and kissed it, -saying, "Your noble husband, dear lady, tells me you expect here -to-night your cousin and mine, Lorenzo Visconti. If he come, I shall -call it a lucky storm that drove me for shelter to your house, as I -have much to say to him; but I fear he cannot reach Vitry to-day. The -sun is well-nigh down, and the waters of the river seem as high as -ever."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The storm, too, seems going directly along his road," said De Vitry, -"and if it reached him where I think he must have first felt it, he -will know that he cannot cross the bridge tonight, and find shelter -amongst the peasants' cottages out beyond the hills there. But I trust -your highness will stay over to-morrow, as you wish to see him. He is -certain to be here, I think, early in the morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must be away before noon," said the duke, "and in case he should -not arrive before I go, you must tell him from me, De Vitry, that I -have the king's permission to call any noble gentleman to my aid who -is willing to draw the sword for the recovery of my heritage of Milan. -Now I think a Visconti would rather see a child of a Visconti in the -ducal chair of Milan than any other. Thus I fully count upon his aid -toward the end of autumn, with all the men that we can raise. So tell -him from me, De Vitry."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may count surely, my lord the duke, upon Lorenzo's going to any -place where there is a chance of his losing his life," said De Vitry. -"He is in a curious mood just now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have remarked it," replied the duke. "He used to be gentle, -courteous, gay, bright, and brave as his sword, but when last I saw -him he had grown stern and somewhat haughty, careless of courtesies, -and curt and sharp of speech. They said that some disappointment -weighed upon his mind."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The most bitter, your highness, that can press down the heart of man -or woman," answered Blanche Marie; "no less than the faithlessness of -one he loved. She is my cousin, yet I cannot but blame her for -breaking so noble a heart. They parted with the fondest hopes. She -promised to wait his coming in Florence, where they were to be united -immediately. When he arrived there she was gone, without leaving -letter or message, or announcement of any kind. He could not follow -her to Rome, from the state of the country; and though he wrote, and -took every means to make her know where he was, his letters remained -unanswered, or were sent back. He might have doubted some foul play; -but a few words in her own hand, written carelessly on a scrap of -paper, in a packet returned to him, showed too well that she was -cognizant of all that had been done; and the last news was that she -was married, or to be married to another."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then let him marry another too," said the Duke of Orleans; but the -conversation was here cut short by the announcement that supper was -spread in the hall below, and the duke's noble followers assembled -there.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo Visconti rode along but slenderly accompanied. A few -attendants and one or two pack-horses formed all the train which -followed him. A carelessness had come over him, not only of all -display, but of life and all things that life could give. He rode, as -De Vitry had described, at headlong speed. It seemed as if he were -flying from something--perhaps from bitterly contrasted memories; but, -as ever, black care sat behind the horseman, and no furious riding -could shake him off. His eyes were fixed upon the ground, but he saw -not loose stone or slippery rock, and never marked the heavy clouds -which, having ravaged the valley of the Isere, were now rising over -the hills upon his left, and threatening to pour down their fury upon -him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Grave and, for him, strangely sad, Antonio was following close behind -him, watching with eager anxiety the obstructions in his master's way, -and marking also the coming tempest. "My lord," he said, at length, -with a somewhat hesitating voice, "were it not better to seek some -shelter and to ride more slowly?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why?" asked Lorenzo; "the road is good."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because, my lord," replied the man, "if we do not seek some shelter -we shall be half drowned in ten minutes, and if we ride so hard, -though you may go safe, we worse mounted men will break both our necks -and our horses' knees, as soon as the sun sets, which will be in a -quarter of an hour."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo drew in his rein; but the only word he spoke was "Well?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We just passed a handsome chateau, my lord," urged Antonio, "and I am -sure they will give you ready welcome there, if you like to rest there -for the night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Whose chateau is it?" inquired his lord, with no great signs of -interest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is it that of Madame de Chaumont?" replied Antonio. "Do you not -remember her and her beautiful daughter at the court last year? They -were very fond of your society, and will gladly receive you, I will -warrant."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, she is very beautiful," said Lorenzo, carelessly, "but light as -vanity: what woman is not? But I cannot stay tonight, my good Antonio. -My cousin and her husband expect me, and I must on."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you will never be able to pass the Isere, my lord," said Antonio; -"that cloud has left half its burden there, depend upon it. Do you not -remember how the river rises in an hour? I will wager a crown to a -coronet there is ten feet of water on the bridge by this time. But -here come the drops, and we shall have water and fire too enough -before we have done. I have a hideous cold, my lord, and cold bathing -is not good for me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo turned towards him with a cynical smile; but, before he could -reply, there was a gay, ringing laugh came up from the gorge into -which they were just descending, and two ladies, followed by several -servants, some with falcons on their hands, some carrying dead game -across their saddles, came cantering up. They glanced towards Lorenzo -as they approached, and, at first did not seem to recognize him; but -the next moment the younger exclaimed, "Dear mother, it is the young -Seigneur Visconti. Give you good day, my lord--give you good day. We -cannot stay to greet you; but turn your horse and ride back with us, -for the roof of our chateau is a better covering for your head than -yonder black cloud. Mother, make him come."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo carelessly turned his horse as the gay and beautiful girl -spoke, and a few words of common courtesy passed between him and the -Marquis de Chaumont. But Eloise de Chaumont would have her part in the -conversation, and she exclaimed, "Come, Seigneur Visconti, put spurs -to your steed and show your horsemanship. I am going home at full -gallop, otherwise the plumes in my beaver will be as draggled as those -of the poor heron that my bird struck in the river. The haggard kite -would not wait for him to tower. On! on! I will bet you my last -embroidered hawking-glove against an old gauntlet that my jennet -reaches the castle first." Thus saying, she applied the whip somewhat -unmercifully to her horse, and Lorenzo put spurs to his. The race was -not very equal, for Lorenzo's hackney was tired with a long journey -and hard riding; but still the young knight kept up side by side with -his fair companion till they came to a narrow pass between a high -cliff and a deep dell, where Lorenzo somewhat drew in the rein to -leave the lady better room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," she exclaimed, "I shall beat you. See, your horse is out of -breath. Spur up, spur up, or the day is mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">Whether Lorenzo did imprudently use the spur, or that the horse shied -at something on the way, I do not know, but in trying to regain his -place by the lady's side the hackney (as lighter horses were then -called) swerved from the centre of the road and trod upon the loose -stones at the side. They gave way beneath his feet and went rattling -down into the glen, while the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled -around. The gallant beast made a strong effort to recover his footing, -but it was in vain; the ground yielded beneath his hoofs, and he fell -down the slope, rolling over his master as he went.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Jesu Maria!" cried Eloise de Chaumont, with a scream, "I have killed -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">That he was killed seemed for several minutes true, for he lay without -sense or motion. Antonio and several of the servants scrambled down -and raised the young lord's head, but he lay senseless still. Eloise -had bounded from her jennet and stood wringing her hands upon the -brink, and even Madame de Chaumont stayed for several minutes gazing -down; but at length the rain became too heavy for her patience, and -she said, "We can do no good here, Eloise. Let them carry him up to -the chateau. We shall only get cold and spoil all our housings. Mark, -look to that bird: its hood is all awry. Come, my child, come;" and, -without waiting for reply, she rode on.</p> - -<p class="normal">Eloise remained, however, not doing much good, it is true, but at -least showing sympathy; and at length Lorenzo was raised, and with -difficulty brought up to the road again. A deep groan as they carried -him told that life was not yet extinct, and the rain falling in his -face revived him as three of the servants carried him in their arms -towards the chateau. When he opened his eyes Eloise de Chaumont was -walking by his side, weeping, and, as soon as memory of all that had -occurred came back, he said, with a great effort, "I am not much hurt, -I believe. Do not grieve, dear lady."</p> - -<p class="normal">"O you are--you are, Lorenzo," she cried, "and I did it, foolish, -wicked girl that I am. But do not speak. We shall soon be at the -chateau. Ride, Guillaume, ride to the priest of St. Servan--he knows -all about chirurgy--bid him come up at all speed. Give the jennet to -Jean Graille. Ride on, I say, and be quick. Oh, Seigneur Visconti, I -am so sorry for my folly."</p> - -<p class="normal">In a few minutes Lorenzo was borne into the chateau, and carried to a -chamber, where, stretched upon a bed, he waited the arrival of the -priest. But Eloise de Chaumont would not leave him, notwithstanding -several messages from her mother. With her own hands she wiped the -earth from his brow; with her own hands she gave him water to drink, -and more than ever she called him Lorenzo, bringing back to the young -lord's mind a suspicion which he had once entertained, but speedily -dismissed as a vain fancy, that Eloise de Chaumont viewed him with -more favour than most others at a court where she was universally -sought and admired.</p> - -<p class="normal">It skills not to dwell upon the tedious process of a long sickness and -a slow recovery. Madame de Chaumont, a lady of a light and selfish -character, though not fond of witnessing suffering, visited Lorenzo -religiously once every day. Eloise de Chaumont, never accustomed to -restraint in anything, was in his chamber morning, noon, and night. In -his sickness she regarded him as a pet bird, or a favourite horse; -and, to say sooth, it would seem there were other feelings too, for -one time when he was sleeping he was wakened by the touch of her lips -upon his brow. Guests came and went at the chateau, but their presence -made no change in her conduct. When Mademoiselle de Chaumont was asked -for, the reply was, usually, "She is in the Seigneur de Visconti's -chamber;" and people began to wonder and to talk.</p> - -<p class="normal">The circles made on the clear bosom of the waters by a pebble cast -into them differ in this from those produced by the spread of rumour; -in the one case they become more and more faint in proportion to their -distance from the centre; in the other, they are not only extended, -but deepened. The gossip of the neighbouring chateaux spread to the -neighbouring towns, thence to wider circles still. They reached the -chateau of De Vitry, and they reached the court, and many a -circumstance was added which had never existed. Blanche Marie and De -Vitry rejoiced, for they hoped that the tendance of Eloise de Chaumont -might not only aid to cure Lorenzo from mere physical evils, but to -apply still more efficacious remedies to his mind. She was young, she -was beautiful, she was wealthy, the only child left by one of the -first nobles in the land; and there seemed all the frankness and -freedom of innocence about her, with a kindly heart, and a mind which -was brilliant, if not strong. They rode over together to see their -young cousin, and Blanche Marie was charmed with all she saw. She knew -not how dangerous it is to give way to impulses where feelings are not -backed by principles. She thought Eloise one provided by Heaven to -wean Lorenzo from the memory of another more dear, whom she believed -to be unworthy of him.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the court of the King of France--the lawful guardian of the young -heiress--the rumours of what was taking place at Chaumont produced -some agitation. Eloise was a special favourite of sweet Anne of -Brittany, and the queen was vexed and alarmed. Men are not so easily -affected by scandal as women, and the king laughed at what had grieved -his wife. "My life for it," he said, "this matter will be easily -explained. My young cousin Lorenzo is not one to peril a lady's -reputation, and if he has done so he must make reparation. We will -send for him, however, my dear lady."</p> - -<p class="normal">When the king's letter arrived, requiring in kindly terms Lorenzo's -presence at Amboise, that young nobleman, though able to rise from his -bed, was by no means sufficiently recovered to take a long journey, or -even to mount his horse. He assured the king in his reply, however, -that the moment he could ride he would get out on the journey; and, to -tell the truth, he longed not a little to leave the castle at -Chaumont. He himself felt that his residence there was becoming -somewhat dangerous to him. The memory of Leonora could not be banished -from his mind. Disappointment, indignation, and even a certain feeling -of contempt, which the indifference he believed her to have shown had -generated, could not extinguish entirely that first-born, fairy love, -which, once it has possession of the heart, rarely goes out entirely. -But yet Eloise de Chaumont was, as the poet says, "beautiful -exceedingly"--of a very different character from Leonora, more fair, -more laughing, with less soul in the look, less depth and intensity of -mind in the eyes, but still very beautiful. A sort of intimacy too, of -a nature difficult to describe, had sprung up during her long -attendance upon him; they called each other by their Christian names, -and, although no word of love had ever passed between them, it was -evident to everyone around that Eloise, knowing that her loveliness -and wealth gave her the choice of almost any man in France, looked -upon Lorenzo as her own, and would have been as much surprised as -grieved to think there was a doubt of her becoming his wife.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo, for his part, could not but be grateful, could not but -admire. One thing, however, proved that he did not love--he saw in her -many faults. He wished she was not so light, so frivolous. He wished -he could see some indications of firm character and steadfast -principles. "And yet," he thought, "Where I believed they most existed -they were the most wanting. What matters it to me whom I wed now? If -Eloise can love me, that amounts to the utmost sum of happiness I can -now hope for."</p> - -<p class="normal">Nevertheless, when, at the end of another fortnight, he mounted his -horse to proceed to Amboise, not a word had passed to bind him to her -who had nursed him so kindly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"When will you be back, Lorenzo?" asked Eloise, as she gave him her -cheek to kiss at parting.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not what the king wishes," replied Lorenzo, "or how long he -may detain me--not long, I hope."</p> - -<p class="normal">Those words bound him to nothing in the common eye of the world; but, -as he pondered them while riding on his way, he felt that they implied -a promise to return as soon as the king left him free to do so. And -yet he hesitated, and yet he doubted, and yet he asked himself, "Can -she make my happiness, or can I make hers?"</p> -<div style="font-size:10pt"> -<pre> - - "It is well to be off with the old love - Before we are on with the new," - -</pre> -</div> -<p class="continue">says an old song, and Lorenzo had reason to regret that he did not -apply the maxim it contains to his own heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">After traversing one half of France, and at Blois increasing his -retinue by a number of his servants from Paris, he rode on to fair -Amboise, where the king was then engaged in erecting those splendid -buildings which since his day have been the scene of so many tragical -events. He arrived at the castle early in the morning, and was -immediately admitted to Charles's presence. The monarch received him -kindly, saying,</p> - -<p class="normal">"So, my good cousin, you have come at length; your illness must have -been severe and tedious. What was its nature?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Some broken bones, may it please your Majesty, and a body all bruised -and shaken by my horse falling down a hill and rolling over me," -replied Lorenzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my faith! it does not please my Majesty at all," said the king, -laughing. "Odds life! dear Lorenzo, if your horse had served you so at -Fornovo, I should have been at the tender mercies of the Venetians, -most likely. But they tell me you found consolation in a fair lady's -society, and had plenty of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mademoiselle de Chaumont attended me most kindly, and gave me as much -of her time as she could spare," replied Lorenzo, gravely.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She gave you a little of her reputation too, I am told," answered the -king, "and this is a subject on which I must speak to you seriously, -my cousin. You are perhaps not aware that idle and malicious tongues -have been busy with your name and that of Eloise de Chaumont. They say -that she would pass more than one half the night in your chamber."</p> - -<p class="normal">The angry blood rushed up into Lorenzo's face, but he answered at -first scoffingly. "If she did, sire, it must have been when I was -insensible to the honour," said Lorenzo; but he added, in a sterner -tone, "in short, my lord the king, he who said so is a liar, and I -will prove it on his body with my lance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is an easier manner to clear the young lady's reputation," -replied Charles, "for cleared, of course, it must be. She is a ward of -the crown. Her father was one of our best subjects and most faithful -friends, and your own station and fortune, as well as our affection -for you, render you, of all others, the man on whom we should wish to -bestow her hand. But, my dear cousin," he continued, in a lighter -tone, "there was, if I remember right, a fair lady in Italy whose -knight you were when we were there?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo winced as if a serpent had stung him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is nothing to me, my lord, nor I to her," he said; "her own will -has severed every bond between us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then there is no impediment," said the king, "to your marriage to -Mademoiselle de Chaumont?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"None whatever that I know of, sire," replied Lorenzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And you promise me, whatever may happen to myself," said Charles, -"that you will heal this little scandal, produced by her great -kindness to yourself, by making her your wife as speedily as may be?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"If she will accept my hand," replied Lorenzo, "of which as yet I know -nothing; for no one word of love has ever passed between us; but God -forbid that any evil chance should befall your Majesty, as your words -seem to anticipate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who can tell?" said the king in a gloomy tone. "Of four children my -dear Anne has given me, not one remains alive; they have perished in -their beauty and their bloom. Why should I not perish with them? This -world is full of accidents and dangers, and we walk continually within -the shadow of death. My thoughts have been very gloomy lately, my good -cousin," and he laid his hand affectionately on Lorenzo's shoulder; -"and yet what matters it," he continued, "whether it be to-day, -to-morrow, or the next day? Stretch life out as long as we can, it is -but a span at last. However, it is well, in this uncertainty of being, -to delay not one hour anything that may be ruined by delay. I will -have the royal consent to your marriage with the ward of the crown -drawn out this morning. Come to me towards the hour of three, and it -shall be ready for you. The queen will then receive you more -graciously, when I have told her all, than she might do now."</p> - -<p class="normal">When Lorenzo returned at the hour appointed, he was conducted into -that beautiful hall still to be seen at Amboise, where he found the -king, the queen, and several attendants, apparently ready to go forth. -Anne of Brittany did receive him most graciously; and Charles handed -him the paper authorizing his immediate marriage with Eloise de -Chaumont.</p> - -<p class="normal">"We shall but give you time to bait your horses, Seigneur Visconti," -said the Queen of France, "and then send you back to your fair bride. -No stain must rest upon a lady's reputation long; and though this be -but the work of evil tongues, without a shadow of foundation for the -scandal, the sooner they are silenced the better. We are now going out -by the old postern into the fosse to see a game of tennis played, in -which, perchance, my lord may take part. We invite you to go with us, -that all the world may see we give no credit to these wild rumours."</p> - -<p class="normal">One of the chamberlains hastened to open the door of the hall, and the -royal party passed out, followed by Lorenzo and the attendants. They -took their way through the great marble hall below, and through a -long, narrow corridor or passage in the thick wall of the castle. It -was terminated by a low-browed, stone archway, with an oaken door, in -passing through which Charles, miscalculating its height, struck his -head violently against the arch, and would have fallen had he not been -caught by Lorenzo, who came close behind.</p> - -<p class="normal">For a moment or two the king seemed confused and almost stunned; but -the accident he had met with was so commonplace and apparently -insignificant that nobody took much notice of it. The ladies who -followed the queen were inclined to smile, and Charles himself treated -it more lightly than any one. He pressed his hand, it is true, once or -twice upon the top of his head, and took off his bonnet for the cool -air, but he declared it was "nothing--a mere nothing."</p> - -<p class="normal">A paleness had spread over the young monarch's face, however, which -Lorenzo Visconti did not like; but the royal party were soon in the -dry deep fosse, and the memorable <i>jeu de paume</i> began.</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles prided himself upon his skill in all manly exercises, and -after looking on for a time, he took a racket, and joined in the game. -He was, or he was suffered to appear, the best player present; but -after he had played one score he gave up the racket, and withdrew from -the game, remaining for a short while as a spectator; and Lorenzo -remarked that, as the king stood looking on, he twice pressed his hand -upon his heart. At length he turned to the queen, and the rest of the -party who had accompanied him thither, and proposed to return into the -castle, adding a few words to Lorenzo on his approaching marriage. The -young nobleman walked nearly by his side, but a little behind, and all -passed the postern, and entered the narrow gallery or corridor, still -talking. When they had nearly reached a flight of steps which led to -the halls above, the king turned suddenly towards Lorenzo, saying, -"Remember," and then fell at once upon the pavement.</p> - -<p class="normal">A scene of indescribable confusion followed. Some of the attendants -raised the monarch to carry him up the stairs, but the chief -chamberlain forbade them to move him till a physician should be -called. Some cushions were brought to support his head, and speedily a -number of fresh faces crowded the passage; but the king remained -without consciousness. Some broken words fell from his lips, but no -one could discover what they meant, and, after a short struggle with -death, Charles VIII. passed away, beloved and mourned rather than -respected.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Again let us change the scene. There is another whose course -we must -trace, from the fatal, the terrible moment when she parted from -Lorenzo Visconti in Tuscany, to the death of Charles VIII. Ere we do -so, however, it may be needful to notice a small incident which -affected greatly her fate, without appearing to be in a direct manner -connected with it.</p> - -<p class="normal">In a magnificent room in one of those grand buildings, half palace, -half fortress, with which Rome in those days abounded, sat Cæsar -Borgia and Ramiro d'Orco, on the very day on which Charles VIII. began -his march from Lombardy to France. The cheek of Ramiro was less pale -than usual, and there was a slight gathering together of the eyebrows, -not to say a frown, which in an ordinary man might have signified very -little, but in one who had so strong an habitual command over his -features and over his emotions would indicate to those who knew him -well, an unusual degree of excitement. His voice was calm, however, -his tone courteous, and from time to time a quiet smile belied the -aspect of his brow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord," he said, "I must have some security. Not that I doubt your -Eminence in the least. Heaven forbid! But all wise men like to have -some guarantee for anything that is promised to them, and are always -willing to give guarantees for that which they really intend to -perform."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I swear by my soul and my salvation," answered Borgia, "that if you -will aid me in this matter--aid me in its consummation--I will molest -her in no shape. She shall be to me as sacred as a nun."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am sure your lordship is sincere," replied Ramiro, "but if oaths -were to be accepted at all, I would prefer that you swore in something -you believe in, rather than by your soul and your salvation. Then as -to your looking upon her as sacred as a nun, I have never heard that -you regarded nuns as sacred at all. It is better we should understand -each other clearly. I find, during your pleasure tour in Tuscany, you -entered the Villa Morelli, had very nearly caught and carried her -off, had she not been somewhat too light of foot for your -gentlemen-in-armour, and that you then set fire to the villa in order -to 'smoke her out,' as you expressed yourself. I have all the -information, my lord, and although you are pleased to pass the matter -off as a wild caprice to gratify your soldiery with a few fair -captives, without any cognizance of her being in the villa, yet the -answers to the inquiries you caused to be made at Florence should have -satisfied you that she could be nowhere else. Now I believe I can aid -you to the very man you want; and, as you are somewhat impatient, can -do it without delay; but I must, in the first place, have some strong -place put in my possession, where my daughter can be more safe than -she was in the Villa Morella, until such time as her lover becomes her -husband, and she leaves Italy for a somewhat quieter land."</p> - -<p class="normal">Cæsar Borgia laughed low and quietly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now what a strange thing is this that men call morality and virtue!" -he exclaimed, with a bitter sneer. "Not the chameleon changes colour -more frequently, and more completely according to the things around. -But we have no time for philosophical reflections, my dear Ramiro. -Tell me, are these men near at hand?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are here in Rome," replied Ramiro d'Orco. "In fact, my lord, -being a man of no great wealth and no power, I judged it expedient in -coming here in order to seek for both, to gather round me at times -serviceable men from various states of Italy, who might supply men -with a kind of authority tantamount to that which I did not possess. -Your Eminence's people, it seems, fail you at this step, although, God -wot, I should have thought they had few scruples left by this time. I -am willing to aid you with mine, provided you insure me against some -little frailties of your Eminence, which might lead to things -displeasing to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, send the men to me," said Cæsar Borgia; "it shall be -done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It must be done before they come here, my lord," replied Ramiro -d'Orco.</p> - -<p class="normal">A flush passed over the young cardinal's countenance; but he said, -starting up suddenly--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, wait here till I return. I must get the donation from his -Holiness."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Remember, I must have all rights and privileges--of high and low -justice--of war and of defence, with only reservation of homage of the -Holy See. I know not what it is exactly that your Eminence requires -these men to do; but they have strong stomachs, and are not likely to -be nauseated by trifles."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I doubt not they are by no means dainty," replied Borgia, and he left -the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ramiro d'Orco remained alone for more than an hour, during which he -hardly moved his position. One sentence did escape his lips just after -Cæsar Borgia left him. "This man is angry," he said, "and his anger is -dangerous." What he thought afterward I know not; probably it was of -self-preservation, for he drew his dagger, and looked all along the -blade, examining most carefully a small groove which extended from the -hilt to the point, then sheathed it again, and seemed to fall into -quiet meditation.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, when it was well-nigh dark, the door opened again, and the -cardinal re-entered with a parchment in his hand. His face was now all -placid and benign, and advancing toward Ramiro, he said, "I have been -long, my friend; but if you knew how much I have had to do in one -short hour, you would say I had been expeditious. There--that paper -gives you Imola and its dependencies, with all the rights and -privileges you require. It took me one half the time to persuade his -Holiness to grant it. Had he known to what it tended, he would have -cut off his right hand ere he signed it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank your Eminence sincerely," replied Ramiro, taking the -parchment; "mutual benefits bind men together. They must never be all -on one side. Either I miscalculate my own powers, or you shall have -the worth of this gift in a few hours in services of the most -acceptable kind. Now let us know what you want done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I want a man removed from my path," said Borgia, abruptly; "one whose -shadow is too tall for me--who stands between me and the sun."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is easily done, my lord," replied Ramiro d'Orco, "there is such -a river as the Tiber, and men will fall in at times, especially when -they are either drunk or badly wounded."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You catch my meaning readily," replied Borgia. "It were done easily, -as you say, Ramiro, were this a common case, but there are men upon -whom vulgar assassins would fear to try their steel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They must have faint hearts or poor brains," replied Ramiro. "A man -is but a man, and a fisherman's life is as good to him as a -cardinal's. It is as valuable, too, in the eye of the law; and he who -can conceal one deed can conceal another. May I know at what quarry -you wish me to let loose the hounds?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Cæsar Borgia rose, and walked slowly up and down the room. There was -something that moved him--that troubled him. What could it be? -Remorse? No, he knew no remorse nor pity. The human heart will -sometimes, in its dark recesses, conceive things so horrible, that, -though it will retain and nourish them as its most cherished -offspring, it will dread that any other eye should see them, and long -to build around them, like the Cretan queen, a dark and intricate -edifice, to hide them for ever from man's sight. It might be this that -moved him. He had need of aid; he had need of instruments; he was -obliged to speak that which he fain would have had done but never -uttered. His beautiful countenance was overshadowed by the expression -of a demon--not a triumphant, but a suffering demon; his eyes were -fixed upon vacancy, and his broad, tall forehead was covered with a -cold dew. At length he seated himself again close to Ramiro d'Orco, -and in a voice low but distinct, said--</p> - -<p class="normal">"My friend, whoever will attain great power must not suffer -impediments to be in his way. He must remove them, Ramiro. Nor must -one prejudice of man, one canting maxim of priests--not even of those -habitual weaknesses which are implanted in us during childhood, and -reared and nourished by women and servants, remain to stumble at. Who, -think you, has most kept me from the light since I was born? Who, -without striving, has won all the prizes in the games of life, and -left me nothing but the fragrance of his banquet?"</p> - -<p class="normal">It was nearly dark, and they could hardly see each other's faces, so -that the paleness which spread over Ramiro d'Orco's face escaped the -eyes of his companion. Ramiro answered nothing, and Borgia went on.</p> - -<p class="normal">"When this mighty city was founded, two brothers, equal in power, laid -it out and planned it. One was feeble as compared with the other, and -the stronger mind soon saw that there was not room for two. Had Remus -lived, what had Rome been now? A village in a marsh. But his great and -glorious brother knew well what course to take in founding a new -dominion, and he took it. Nor is such conduct uncommon nowadays with -those who have strong hearts and seek great objects. Look at that -mighty people whom we poor fools fear and call infidels. Have we ever -seen, since the days of Rome's greatest glory, a more powerful, -energetic, conquering race than the Saracens? Does the sultan, or -caliph, or whatever he may be, suffer his power to be shaken or his -course to be impeded by a weak horde of brothers? No, no. He sends out -of the troubles of life those who are not gifted for life's mighty -contests. Why, this man Bajazet has paid three hundred thousand ducats -for the dead body of his brother Zizim, lest perchance he should some -day trouble his repose. Shall I be more scrupulous when the Duke of -Gandia builds up a wall between me and my right course? No, Ramiro, -no! I am about to cast off these priestly robes, that only trammel me, -to pursue the path which nature by a mistake opened him; to strive in -arms and policy for the great designs of ambition; and I would have -the course cleared before me. Do you understand me now, Ramiro?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think I do, my lord," replied Ramiro d'Orco; but Borgia went on -without attending to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A mistake of nature, did I say? a blunder--a gross blunder. Had I had -Gandia's opportunities, should I have neglected them as he has done? -What should I have been now? What would my friends have been? This -miserable cardinalate, what does it give me? Not enough to reward a -horse-boy. Give me but room, and I will make sure to carve me a -principality out of this land which will enable me to raise my name on -high, and recompense all who serve me. I will so work the dissensions -of these States, that if I bring them all not under my heel, I will -bind a sufficient number in a fasces to render my power unassailable. -But I must have room, Ramiro, I must have room; and I must have it -quickly. Between this hour and my father's death, who can say what -time will be allowed me? Yet all must be done within that space; and -if I pause and hesitate at the first step, the precious moment will -have slipped by. Gandia must die, my friend. He bars my way, he -extinguished my light. An accident made him my elder brother; we must -have some accident which shall leave me without one. Now, then, you -know all. Can you help me? How can you help me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am too old to help you with my own hand, my lord," replied Ramiro -d'Orco, "but I have those who can and will. You need not explain aught -to them. You need never name the man, but merely designate him by -outward signs. You know his haunts--his habits. Let them watch for him -in some convenient place, and treat him as they would some gay gallant -who has raised the jealousy of some noble husband."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But it must be done quickly, Ramiro," replied the other. "In a few -days I must quit Rome for Naples, and I would have it finished before -I go."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is easy too," replied Ramiro d'Orco. "You must learn where he -may be found. Give them but the hour and place, and they will spare -you all future trouble."</p> - -<p class="normal">Cæsar Borgia did not seem altogether satisfied. He sat silent, with -his eyes fixed upon the ground, gnawing his lower lip; and, after a -moment's pause, passed apparently in intense thought, Ramiro added,</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is but one way, my lord, in which this thing can be done -properly and well. You shall see the men yourself; you can be either -incognito or not, as you please: but deal with them separately. Four -will be enough, for I know that each man I send you is equal to a -dozen common cut-throats. You have but to tell me where and when they -shall come to you, and I will have them there, one by one, with a -quarter of an hour between their visits."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are, indeed, a good deviser, my friend Ramiro," replied Borgia, -with a well-pleased look. "No witness to my conversation with either. -They can meet and arrange their plans afterward, but that commits not -me. As to incognito it is hardly possible and hardly needful. My face -is too well known in Rome, and my word better than any single -bravo's."</p> - -<p class="normal">"When shall I send them, my lord?" asked Ramiro d'Orco.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This night--this very night," answered Borgia, eagerly; "no time is -to be lost. Such things should be hardly thought of ere they be -executed. The deed should tread upon the heels of the determination."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And here?" asked Ramiro.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, even here," replied Borgia. "Strange people come here sometimes -my Ramiro."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I hasten to fulfil your lordship's will," replied his companion. -"Lay not your finger on my household gods, and you will find no one to -serve you better. I have already given you some proof of it by -throwing such nets around my good cousin, the Cardinal Julian, that -all his enmity toward your father has proved impotent as yet. In this -matter you shall find that I can be serviceable too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As to your household gods or goddesses, dear Ramiro," replied Borgia, -with a light laugh, "be under no fear. I was a fool about that -business of the villa. I knew not that you would take the thing so -much to heart, for I am too wise to risk the loss of a strong friend -for a light love. You told me just now to swear by something I -believed in. I swear by my ambition, Ramiro, that I will never seek -your daughter, or trouble her again. May fortune never favour me if I -do! You will believe that oath, Ramiro?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is the most binding your Eminence could take," replied d'Orco, -drily; "and now I take my leave, for I believe with you, that if this -is to be done at all, it should be done at once. Yet one word more; as -you seek no incognito, I will send you a man who knows you already, -and whom you know. He is better and more trusty than one of those I -thought of. He has been bred in a rare school for such operations. -Buondoni of Milan was his tutor, and Ludovic the Moor the regent of -the university where he studied."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! who is he?" asked Borgia, with a smile. "He should be a great -professor if he have any genius."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he is a ripe scholar, and a man of much ability," answered -Ramiro. "He knows the course of the jugular vein, and the exact -position of the heart, as if he were an anatomist. This is no other -than our good friend, Friar Peter. He may come to you to-night without -his robes on, but you will find Pierre Mardocchi as good a devil as -any friar of them all. But we waste time, and again I take my leave."</p> - -<p class="normal">What were the feelings of Ramiro d'Orco as he left the Borgia palace -would be difficult to say. He was a man of few scruples, and hardened -in that worst of all philosophies, which some even in our own day are -so eager to teach, the main axiom of which is, that all men are -equally bad, and bold crime is superior to timid vice by the great -element of courage. It is hardly possible for a misanthropist to be -anything but a villain. And yet, although he would not have shrunk -from any ordinary crime, there was something in the calm determination -of Borgia to murder his own brother--ay, and even in the arguments he -had used to palliate, if not justify the act, which had sent the blood -back from his cheek and from his lips, and it seemed to stagnate for a -moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">But short consideration was needed to show him that there was but one -course left for him to pursue with any chance of safety. The dangerous -confidence which Cæsar Borgia had placed in him did not admit of any -choice but between death and crime. He must be an accomplice or he -must be an enemy; and to be Cæsar Borgia's enemy, for any man -unarmoured in mighty power, was to stand upon the brink of the grave. -All remorse, all hesitation, therefore, were quickly done away. "I -must serve him well," he thought--"must help him to accomplish the -deed--must teach him he cannot do without me. Then his own interest -will make him my friend in acts, if not in heart."</p> - -<p class="normal">Not three quarters of an hour had passed ere a friar presented himself -at the Borgia palace. He stayed some twenty minutes, and ere he left -another man was admitted to the cardinal--a man of swaggering military -air, who had lost one eye, apparently in fight. These two came forth -together, crossed over to the other side of the street, and stood -there conversing for some time under an archway. During the next half -hour, two others, each of whom had previously visited the Borgia -palace, were added to the group, and it must be admitted that four -more consummate scoundrels have seldom been gathered together.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the following night there was a great entertainment at the house of -Rosa Vanozza, the mother of the Borgias, the concubine of the pope. -Guest after guest departed, some with lights to guide their steps, -some apparently not so willing that the course they took should be -marked. There was a servant, richly dressed, who stood in the square -opposite the house, who scanned every group as it came out, and at the -farther corner of the square were three or four men, discussing, it -would seem, some knotty point with Italian vehemence of gesture.</p> - -<p class="normal">Though apparently indifferent to everything but their own -conversation, the eyes of these men also ran over each group that came -from the Casa Vanozza. All passed by, however, without their moving; -the lights wound away through the narrow streets, and all became -darkness in the square. The men then moved on towards the servant, who -still remained where he had been stationed before, as if intending to -pass him; but just at the moment they were doing so, he staggered some -paces with a groan, and fell upon the pavement. The men returned to -the spot where they had been previously standing.</p> - -<p class="normal">A few minutes after, two gay-looking young cavaliers came forth from -Vanozza's house, and walked partly across the square together at some -distance from where the dead man lay. One of them looked round, -saying, "Where can my valet be? The dog has grown weary of waiting, I -suppose. Have you no servants with you, Cæsar?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied the other, "I have no fear of walking the streets of -Rome alone--I am so beloved, you know, Gandia," and he added a short -bitter sort of a laugh.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I take this street to the right," said the Duke of Gandia. "I -have some business down near San Jacomo."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good night," said the other. "I know where you are going, Gandia. You -can't cheat me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good-night, cardinal," replied the duke, laughing, and they parted.</p> - -<p class="normal">The same night, a few hours afterward, a boatman upon the Tiber, -watching a load of wood which he had landed near the church of St. -Jerome, and lying apparently asleep in his boat, saw two men come -forth from the narrow alley which ran by the side of the church, and -look cautiously all round, up one street and down another, as if to -insure that all were free from passengers. Everything was still about -the city--no step was heard, no moving object seen--and the two men -returned to the alley whence they had issued forth.</p> - -<p class="normal">Shortly after, four men appeared at the mouth of the alley, one of -whom was on horseback, and all approached at a quick pace toward a -spot on the banks of the Tiber not more than ten yards from the boat -in which the man was watching. When they came near he perceived that -the horseman had the corpse of a dead man behind him, flung carelessly -over the crupper, with the head and arms hanging over on one side, and -the feet and legs on the other. When near the river, the horseman -wheeled his horse and backed it to the brink. His companions then took -the body from behind him, swung it to and fro several times to give it -greater impetus, and then cast it as far as they could into the Tiber. -The horseman then turned and gazed upon the shining surface of the -river, upon which the moon was now pouring a flood of light.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is that black thing floating there?" he asked.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is his cloak," replied one of the others.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Cast some stones upon it quick," said the horseman. His orders were -obeyed, and the cloak disappeared.</p> - -<p class="normal">When the boatman, many days afterward, told his story, upon being -questioned as to whether he had seen anything particular on the fatal -Wednesday night, he was asked with some surprise why he had not given -information at once. He answered that within the last few years he had -seen more than a hundred dead thrown into the Tiber, and had never -considered it any business of his.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the following day Rome was startled with the intelligence that the -Duke of Gandia, the pope's eldest son--the only one, indeed, who -possessed in any degree the love or respect of the people--was -missing; and sinister rumours spread around.</p> - -<p class="normal">But there was one man within the gates of Rome who knew the whole on -the Wednesday night. Cæsar Borgia went not to bed when he returned -from his mother's entertainment; but, dismissing all his train to -rest, he waited for news of the events which he was well aware were to -happen. I might give a fanciful picture of the agitation of his -mind--of the listening ear and the straining eye, and the pallid -cheek, and the quivering lip--and it might have every appearance of -verisimilitude; for at that moment a brother was being murdered by his -order. But it was not so. He sat upon velvet cushions, playing with a -small, silky-haired monkey. He seemed as thoughtless, careless, and -sportive as the poor beast itself. For half an hour he amused himself -thus. He teased it, he irritated it, and then he soothed it. Again he -teased it, and at length the monkey bit him, when, seizing it by the -legs, he dashed its head against the floor, and the poor beast lay -dead at his feet. He washed the blood from his hand with a -handkerchief, and stood gazing at the dead brute with a face that -betokened no grief or regret. At length he kicked the body into a -corner, murmuring, "People must not bite me."</p> - -<p class="normal">People! Did he think that monkey was his brother?</p> - -<p class="normal">The only time when he showed some degree of agitation was when more -than an hour and a half had elapsed since his return, and yet no -tidings arrived. "Can they have failed?" he said, in a low voice; "can -they have failed? Oh no, impossible!" and, sitting down again--for he -had risen while the momentary fear crossed his mind--he took up a book -and read some love songs of that day. Nearly another hour passed, and -then a step was heard upon the staircase. The next instant a friar -entered the room, and silently closed the door behind him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is done your Eminence," said the man, approaching Borgia, and -speaking low and quietly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What have you done with the body?" asked the cardinal.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is at the bottom of the Tiber," replied Mardocchi, "I am somewhat -late, for we had to drag him into Michelotto's house, near St. -Jerome's, and we did not like to carry him to the river bank as long -as a single soul could be seen moving in the streets."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Right--right," said Cæsar Borgia! "that might have been ruinous."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not an eye saw," said Mardocchi, "though he fought for a minute or -two; for Michelotto missed his first blow, and it took nine wounds to -dispatch him. Some one must have given him three. I only gave him -two, but they were good ones. One was between the throat and the -breast-bone; the other, which was the best, was in the middle of the -left side; that brought him down, and he never moved or spoke after -that."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are a good and faithful fellow," replied Borgia, "and have bound -you to me for ever. You shall take away with you to-night the ducats I -promised yourself and your companions; but that ring is for yourself, -and engages you in my particular service."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mardocchi took the ring and held it in his hand, apparently -hesitating.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I beg your Eminence to pardon me," he said, at length, "but I cannot -quit the Lord Ramiro."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! do you love the good lord so much?" asked Borgia.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, your Eminence, I do not love him at all," replied the friar; -"but--but--I have an object in staying with him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Speak out--speak out, Mardocchi," said Cæsar Borgia; "you have -nothing to fear from me, and if I can help you, I will."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is a long story, my lord," replied the friar; "but to tell you as -shortly as may be. The signor's daughter, it seems, is to be married -shortly to young Lorenzo Visconti. Now I have an old grudge against -that young man. I have promised not to practise against his life, and -I will keep my promise, for I always do; but I have not promised not -to do him all the harm I can, for revenge I will have, and I can only -have it by staying with Ramiro d'Orco."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That suits me well," replied Cæsar Borgia. "You shall be my servant, -Mardocchi, but not quit the good lord. You may remain with him, go -with him where he goes, serve him against all men except me; but you -will remember you are mine, and be ready to serve me at a moment's -notice. I need such men as you. You will receive a hundred ducats in -the year from my treasurer, and I count upon you for any service, even -should it be against Ramiro himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust I may count upon your Eminence's countenance too," said -Mardocchi, "in case I should get into any trouble on this Signor -Visconti's matters, for my revenge upon him I will have."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall have my protection, and those whom I protect are tolerably -safe," said Borgia, rising and going to a small beautiful cabinet that -stood in the room. "Here, take this bag of ducats; it is what I -promised. Divide them equally with your companions, and say nothing -about the ring I have given you. Come to me to-morrow, and we will -speak further. I will now retire, and shall sleep better than I have -done for weeks."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mardocchi took the heavy bag, and as he did so, Cæsar Borgia saw that -there was blood on the man's hand. It was his brother's blood; and the -sight did for an instant touch his obdurate heart, which nothing else -had reached. He did not sleep so well that night as he expected.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Ramiro d'Orco sat in his own splendid room while rumours of -the death -of the unfortunate Duke of Gandia spread consternation through the -city; but he had before him a parchment with a large pendant seal, -which gave him the important ecclesiastical fief of Imola, and he -thought of little else. The first great step he had ever been able to -take in that high road of ambition which he had so long been eager to -follow was now taken. He saw before him along career of greatness, and -he calculated that, step by step, as Cæsar Borgia rose, he must rise -with him. He did not over-estimate at all the abilities of that very -remarkable man; and it was no wild calculation to presume that, with -such abilities, with such courage, with such ambition, and without a -scruple, Cæsar Borgia, in that unscrupulous age, must rise to the -highest point of power and dignity.</p> - -<p class="normal">True, the town of Imola had its own lords; true, it was strongly -garrisoned; but the barony had been declared forfeited to the Holy -See, and the fortifications were too much decayed to withstand a -siege. Linked as he was now with Cæsar Borgia, and knowing that his -services, especially with the hostile Cardinal of St. Peter's, were -necessary to the Holy See, he doubted not that the forces of the pope, -which were soon to be employed against Forli, in the immediate -neighbourhood of Imola, would be permitted to place him in possession -of the vicariate. He was resolved, however, to make sure of that point -as early as possible, and if not successful in his application, to -raise troops himself and endeavour to surprise the place.</p> - -<p class="normal">The second day after the assassination of the Duke of Gandia, Ramiro -d'Orco, with more splendour than he had yet displayed in Rome, -presented himself first at the Vatican, and then at the palace of the -cardinal. At the Vatican he was refused admittance, and the attendants -told him the dreadful sufferings of the father for the loss of his -eldest and best-beloved son. They assured him, and assured him truly, -that the pope, shut up in his cabinet, had neither seen any one, nor -tasted food of any kind since the death of the duke had been -ascertained. At the Borgia palace he was admitted, and he found in the -gorgeous saloons a number of the high nobility of Rome, brought -thither by the same motive which he himself professed, namely, to -condole with the young cardinal upon his brother's death. With a grave -air and a sad look, he advanced slowly toward Borgia, and expressed in -graceful and well-chosen terms his regret and horror at the event -which had occurred.</p> - -<p class="normal">The drama was well played on both parts, although, to tell the truth, -Cæsar was so much amused at the farce, that, had he not been the most -complete master of dissimulation in the world, he must have laughed -aloud. He looked grave and sad, however; and when Ramiro, after having -stayed for some time in the hope that the other visitors would depart, -rose to do so himself, Cæsar said to him, in that bland and caressing -tone which he knew so well how to use--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay with me, my Ramiro. Your company will give me consolation. You -must partake my poor dinner, though, to say truth, I have no stomach -for aught."</p> - -<p class="normal">One by one the barons departed, and if any one suspected that the -cardinal was not so much grieved as he appeared to be, they took care -not to express their doubts to any one--no, not to their dearest -friends or most trusted confidant. When they were gone, a quiet smile -passed over Cæsar Borgia's lips, but neither he nor Ramiro made the -slightest allusion to the events of the past.</p> - -<p class="normal">The cardinal, however, was in the most benign and generous humour. His -appetite at dinner showed no signs of decay, nor did he altogether -avoid the wine-cup. Ramiro knew that he was necessary to him, and -therefore ate and drank with him without fear, although it was not -always a very safe proceeding. In the course of the dinner Ramiro -alluded to the difficulties he might have in obtaining possession of -Imola; but Cæsar cut him short with a kindly smile, saying--</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have thought of all that, and that will be easily arranged, I -trust. My journey to Naples once over--and it will only take ten -days--I march against these traitor vicars of the Holy See, and will -expel them from the possessions they unjustly retain. The pope, my -friend, does not bestow a fief without putting the recipient in -possession of it. The first occupation of his forces under my command -will be to establish you safely in your city, trusting that I shall -have your aid and good counsel in dealing with the others which I have -to reduce. Ramiro," he continued, changing his tone and speaking -abruptly, "you have done me vast service, and those who serve me well -are sure of my gratitude. You have rendered great services, too, to -the Holy See, and can render greater still, for there is only one -enemy we have to fear, that fierce Julian. Continue to keep him in -check for my sake, and as long as my father lives you may count upon -me as your friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope, indeed, to be able to do still more," and Ramiro; "for when -my daughter is united to a cousin of the King of France, his companion -and his friend, I shall have a mouthpiece at that court which can -whisper a word in the king's closet more potent than all that Julian -de Rovera can say at the council table."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good--good," said Cæsar Borgia; and then they proceeded to discuss -many points in regard to their future proceedings, which would not -interest the reader. Suffice it to say, a few weeks after this -conversation, a strong body of the papal troops appeared before the -gates of Imola, and summoned the garrison to surrender. Merely a show -of resistance was made: but at the first mention of terms the garrison -agreed to capitulate, and before night marched out. On the following -morning Cæsar Borgia pursued his way toward Forli, and Ramiro d'Orco, -with a splendid train and a considerable band of armed men, whom he -had engaged in Rome, made his public entry into the city. The people, -who had suffered some oppression from their late lords, shouted and -rejoiced, and all his first acts gave promise of a gentle and paternal -rule.</p> - -<p class="normal">Only two days had passed after he became Lord of Imola, when Father -Peter, as he was now called, was summoned to the presence of Ramiro -d'Orco, and told to prepare for an immediate journey to Florence.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I send a noble lady of this place," said the baron, "with twenty -men-at-arms and some women servants, to bring my daughter hither; but -you, my good Mardocchi, have an especial part to play in this -business. You will hand her my letter; tell her, her presence is -needful to me, and that the dangers she feared in Rome do not exist at -Imola. You have told me, I think, that you have seen and known the -young Lord Lorenzo Visconti. He is expected in Florence soon to wed my -daughter, and will go at once to the Casa Morelli. You must remain -behind after the Signora Leonora has set out, and wait for his coming. -When he arrives you must immediately see him, and induce him to come -hither. Tell him that I found it expedient for many reasons that -Leonora should be with me until he came to claim her hand, but for -none more than this: I have certain information that my good cousin, -Mona Francesca Morelli, having lost her beauty from the effects of -injuries she received some months since, is about immediately to enter -the convent of San Miniato. Leonora will then be without protection in -Florence, unless she goes with Mona Francesca to the convent, which -would not please me, as I fear the influence of the sisters upon her -mind. You will tell Signor Visconti, however, that I am forgetful of -no promises, and that I am ready to bestow upon him my child's hand as -soon as he arrives at Imola."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how long am I to wait for him, noble lord?" asked Mardocchi: -"young gentlemen are sometimes fickle, and perchance he may not come -as soon as you expect."</p> - -<p class="normal">A sudden flush passed over Ramiro's face, and his brows contracted; -but after a short pause he answered, in his usual tone:</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is not fickle, my good friend. He will be there within a month -after you reach Florence; the ways are all open now, and there is -nothing to impede him; but even if, from some accident which we cannot -foresee, he should be delayed a fortnight or three weeks longer, I -would have you stay for him. Few men, my good Mardocchi, are likely to -be fickle with <i>my</i> daughter."</p> - -<p class="normal">He laid an emphasis on the word "my", but yet there was something of -paternal pride and tenderness in his tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should think it would be somewhat dangerous," said the friar with a -laugh; "however, I will be ready, my lord, at your command, and will -obey you to the tittle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Dangerous!" said Ramiro, after the man left him. "But this is -nonsense; he dare not slight her."</p> - -<p class="normal">In some eighteen days' time Leonora appeared in Imola, more beautiful, -perhaps, than ever, and many of the young nobles of the neighbouring -country would willingly have disputed her hand with any one; but -Ramiro d'Orco took care to make it known that her heart, with his -approbation, had been won by another, whose bride she was soon to be. -Toward her he was, perhaps, in some degree, more tender than he had -shown himself before, yet there was but little difference in his -manner or his conduct; there was the same indulgence of her slightest -wishes; the same grave, almost studied reserve. He told her more as a -command than a permission, that she would be united to Lorenzo as soon -as he arrived; and Leonora's heart beat high with hope and -expectation.</p> - -<p class="normal">Week passed by after week, and still Lorenzo did not come. One letter -arrived from Florence informing Ramiro and his daughter that Mona -Francesca, deprived of Leonora's society, which had of late been her -only solace, had retired from the world even earlier than she had -intended; but nothing was heard of Mardocchi, though he was known to -be a good scribe.</p> - -<p class="normal">Six weeks--two months passed, and fears of various kinds took -possession of Leonora's heart. Ramiro d'Orco said nothing, but he -appeared more grave and stern than ever.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length a carrier passing by Imola brought a letter from Mardocchi. -It was merely to ask if he should return. He made no mention of -Lorenzo, but he merely laconically remarked that he thought he had -stayed long enough. Ramiro d'Orco laid the letter before his daughter -without remark, but he took advantage of a messenger going to France -from Cæsar Borgia to order Mardocchi to return.</p> - -<p class="normal">And what did Leonora do? A tear or two dropped on the villain's -letter. She had no doubt of Lorenzo's constancy. His heart was imaged -in her own, and she saw nothing fickle, nothing doubtful there. She -thought he must be ill--wounded, perhaps, in some encounter--unable to -come or write, But she had heard of the courier's passing too, and she -longed to write. There had been something in her father's manner, -however, that made her hesitate, and, after long thought she went -boldly up to his private cabinet. He was seated, signing some official -papers, but he looked up the moment she entered, saying--</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it, Leonora?"</p> - -<p class="normal">A new spirit had entered into her with her love for Lorenzo Visconti, -and she answered no longer with the timidity, nay, with that fear -which at one time she felt in speaking to her father.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lorenzo must be ill, my father," she said. "I am told that there is a -courier going to France, and I long to write by him. I feel it would -be better, wiser, to have no secrets from my father--to let him know -my whole heart and all my acts. I, therefore, will not write without -your permission."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Write--write, my child," said Ramiro d'Orco, with a more beaming look -than usually came upon his countenance. "God grant that this young -man's disease may be more of the body than the mind. His conduct is -strange, but yet I will lose no chance. I cannot write to him, but you -may. Woman's love may pardon what man's harder nature must revenge. -Perhaps this letter may be explained. God grant it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora retired to her chamber and wrote:</p> - -<p class="normal">"My spirit is very much troubled, dear Lorenzo"--such were the -words--"You promised to return in two months after we parted. Five -have passed; and you have neither come nor written. I know you are -ill. I entertain no other fear; but my father, I can see, has doubts -that have never entered into my mind. I beseech you remove them. A -messenger has been waiting for you at Florence to explain to you that -my father has become Lord of Imola, and that I have joined him here. -It is probable that this good man, Father Peter, may not be able to -remain waiting for you any longer, and I therefore write to let you -know where you will find me. That you will seek me as soon as it is -possible, or write to me if it is impossible for you to seek me soon, -no doubt exists in the mind of your</p> -<p style="text-indent:70%"><span class="sc">Leonora</span>."</p> -<br> -<p class="normal">She folded and sealed the letter, and took it at once to her father; -but Ramiro remarked on the green floss silk with which it was tied.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take some other colour, my child," he said; and, stretching across -the table, he threw before her a small bundle of those silks with -which it was customary to attach a seal to letters in that day. -"There is crimson," he said; "that will suit better for the occasion."</p> - -<p class="normal">There seemed a meaning lurking in his speech which Leonora did not -like; but she obeyed quietly, and was about to leave the letter -re-sealed with him, when he suddenly said--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay! better put in the corner, 'To be shown to the Reverend Father -Peter, at the Casa Morelli, Florence, in case the Signor Lorenzo -Visconti should have arrived.' If he be there, it would be useless to -send the letter on to France; if not there, Father Peter will forward -it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora obeyed willingly, for during the short time she had been in -her father's house she had found that the friar was high in Ramiro's -good opinion, and that all the attendants, taking the colour of their -thoughts from those of their lord, spoke well of Father Peter. Nor had -the little which she had seen of him in Florence at all enlightened -her as to the real character of the man. To the eyes of children -fragments of coloured glass look like gems, and Leonora was too young -to distinguish in a moment, as one old and experienced can sometimes -do, the false from the true stone.</p> - -<p class="normal">The direction was written in the corner with her own hand, which -prevented the letter from ever reaching her lover.</p> - -<p class="normal">No sooner was it shown to Mardocchi than he told the messenger he -would keep it, as he had certain intelligence that the young cavalier -would be in Florence in three days. Lorenzo Visconti had been in -Florence long before, and from the old porter at the Casa Morelli had -heard the story which Mardocchi had put in the man's mouth; that -Leonora had gone to join her father at Imola, thence to proceed -immediately to some distant part of Italy, no one knew where. The deaf -old man's kindly feeling prevented him from telling all that Mardocchi -suggested, namely, that it was Ramiro d'Orco's intention to wed his -daughter to some of his new friends in the south, and that Leonora -made no opposition. That was the tale which reached Lorenzo -afterwards, for it was diligently spread; and as more than half of the -intelligence of Europe was in those days conveyed by rumour, it passed -current with most men, though it came in no very tangible form.</p> - -<p class="normal">No sooner had Cæsar Borgia's courier departed from Florence than -Mardocchi set out for Imola. He was engaged in a somewhat hazardous -game, and it was necessary for him to be on the spot where it could -most conveniently be played. The one predominant passion, however, was -as strong in his heart as ever, and, had it cost him his life, he -would have played out that game for revenge. The circumstances of the -time favoured all his machinations. There were no regular posts in -those days. Communication was slow and scanty. An armed horseman -carried the letter of this or that great lord or merchant from town to -town, and sometimes was permitted, if his journey was to be a long -one, to take up small packages from private citizens in the places -through which he passed. It may easily be conceived that, in such -circumstances as these, it was easy for a villain, shrewd and -determined in his purpose, to intercept what communication he pleased. -A flagon of fine wine, a golden ducat, readily brought all ordinary -couriers to reason; and the dangerous secrets he possessed gave -Mardocchi, even with his lord, an influence denied to any other man in -Imola.</p> - -<p class="normal">I may well, therefore, pass over all the details of those means by -which he worked the misery of Lorenzo Visconti and Leonora d'Orco. -Only two facts require to be mentioned. He soon found, or rather -divined, that it would be needful to stop Leonora's correspondence -with her cousin Blanche; and after the first two or three, no letters, -addressed to the latter, left the castle of Imola. They were, in -general, burned immediately; but, in carelessly looking through one of -them, the traitor found a few words which he thought might answer his -purpose at some future time.</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora's pride, in writing to her cousin, had somewhat given way on -hearing of the approaching marriage of Blanche and De Vitry, and she -alluded sadly to her own disappointment. "For once," she wrote, "an -early engagement has been crowned with happiness. Oh! what a fool I -was to cast away the first feelings of my heart, without knowing -better the man to whom I gave them."</p> - -<p class="normal">These words were carefully out out, and when at length a letter from -Lorenzo came, sent from Rome by Villanova (the new ambassador of the -French king to the Papal court), it did not share the fate of the -rest. It was a last effort to draw at least some answer from Leonora; -and it had very nearly reached her for whom it was intended, the -courier having arrived at a very unusual hour. But Mardocchi was all -ears and all eyes, and he stopped the packages at the very door of -Ramiro d'Orco's cabinet.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The good lord slept," he said; "he had been exhausted by long labours -in the service of his people. The letters should be delivered as soon -as he woke."</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meantime he held them in charge; and when they were delivered, -one was missing. That one was sent back again to France some few -months before the death of Charles VIII., and into the cover was -slipped the scrap of paper containing those words in Leonora's own -hand, "Oh! what a fool I was to cast away the first feelings of my -heart without knowing better the man to whom I gave them!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Mardocchi laughed as he placed the writing close under the seal. -Whether he saw the extent of the evil he was working, who can tell? -Vague notions might flit before his imagination of dark ulterior -consequences--of Ramiro d'Orco's seeking vengeance for the slight -shown to his daughter--of Lorenzo's fiery spirit urging on a -quarrel--of his own power to direct the dagger or the poison, though -he had vowed to use neither with his own hand; but certain it is that -no result could be too terrible for his desires.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Two years had passed, and Leonora d'Orco had changed with -everything -around her. Alliances had been formed and broken; great commanders had -won victories, and yielded to the stronger hand of Fate. Kings had -descended from the proud pitch of power and betaken themselves to the -humblest of beds; new combinations had been formed over the whole -earth; enemies had become friends, friends enemies; love was burning -soon to become cold; and there was coldness where the most ardent -passion had once been felt.</p> - -<p class="normal">I must be pardoned if I pause in my simple tale to show how the -strange transforming-rod of time had affected Leonora d'Orco. Anguish, -disappointment, anger--yes, I may say anger--had produced for a time -those results which mental excitement almost of any kind fails not to -work on the human frame.</p> - -<p class="normal">When a whole year had elapsed without tidings or explanation from -Lorenzo Visconti, her cheek might be seen to become paler and paler -every day. Her limbs and form could not lose their grace, but they -lost their beautiful contour. She became thin as well as pale; her -bright eyes, too, lost somewhat of their lustre. She was still a young -girl, and it was painful to see how her loveliness faded as her best -hopes faded. She sought solitude; she avoided all society; she shunned -especially that of men. Her father's was an exception. Parent and -child seemed drawn closer together by the events which had inflicted a -different kind of pain upon the heart of each. Often, after gazing at -her for a while, cold, stern, remorseless Ramiro d'Orco would suddenly -seek his cabinet, and, pressing his hands together till the fingers -grew white, would utter but one word--"revenge!"</p> - -<p class="normal">This state of things lasted but a few months, however, when suddenly a -new change came over the beautiful girl. She had been studying hard -and diligently, and strange books fell into her hands. It seemed as if -from intellectual culture, new sources of happiness became opened to -her. It might, indeed, be that pride came to her aid--that she -resolved to cast away all thoughts of a man she deemed unworthy of -her. It might be that she sought to cheer and solace her father. And -yet there must have been something more, some stronger power at work -within, for she showed that she was not one of those "to love again -and be again deceived." Oh, no, she would not hear the very name of -love.</p> - -<p class="normal">The gayest, the brightest, the noblest, the most handsome strove for -one smile, one token of her favour, but in vain. Yet she came forth -from her solitude--she became the star of her father's little court. -Amid admiring eyes and looks that seemed almost to worship her, she -moved in beauty, but as cold as ice. Colour came back to her cheek, -light to her eye, roundness and symmetry to every limb. The sweet, -arching lips regained all their redness, but the heart seemed to have -lost its warmth for ever.</p> - -<p class="normal">The tenderness of the young girl, too, had apparently gone--the -timidity, the shyness of youth. Not that she was hard, unkind, or -harsh--oh, far from it. She was an angel of mercy in that city of -Imola. She pleaded for the prisoner, turned often aside the blow from -those appointed to die, solaced the sick and the needy. Her own great -wealth, left solely to her disposal, raised up many a drooping head, -cheered many a despairing heart. But now she dared to do what she -would have shrunk from in the years passed by. She would approach her -father, fearless, in his sternest moods, entreat, argue, remonstrate, -and often, by the power of her will, bend him from his most settled -purposes. Her beauty had acquired something of the character which her -mind now assumed, and it must have been now that those pictures we -have of her were taken. Though it was of the finest, the most -delicate, the most exquisitely engaging style both in line and -colouring, there was a dignity in the expression and in the whole air -which the canvas can but faintly convey; and yet who could gaze upon -her eyes, those wells of light, without seeing that there was some -marvellous self-sustaining power within.</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora became fond, too, of the decoration of her person. Jewels, and -cloth of gold, and rich embroidery decked those lovely hands and arms, -or were wreathed in the clustering masses of her jetty hair, or -arrayed those graceful limbs; and her tire-women had no longer reason -to complain that she forgot her station or neglected her apparel as -they had once done. To them she was gentleness itself; but the suitors -who still would ask her hand could not but feel that their dismissal -had something of the sting of scorn in it. She strove to soften it, -but she could not; and the beautiful lip would curl, however mild the -words might be, as if she thought it strange that any man could think -she would condescend to bestow herself on him.</p> - -<p class="normal">It must be said, however, that no one had any right to complain of -having been led on to love merely to be refused. No approving smile -ever encouraged the first advance; and if the attentions were too -marked to be misunderstood, a sudden coldness gave the answer without -a word. Once only she showed her contempt plainly. It was when a -nobleman of pride and power declared he would appeal from her decision -to her father. She told him her father had no power to wed her to a -man whom she despised, and, if he ever had possessed it, he had given -her fate into her own hands long before.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have his promise," she said--"a promise that, for good or bad, has -not yet been broken to human being--that he will never, even by word, -urge me to wed mortal man. So now go, my lord, and appeal to whom you -will, but let me not see you any more. I am no man's slave, not even a -father's."</p> - -<p class="normal">There were violent things done in Italy in those days; and I know not -whether it was some idle but threatening words, muttered by this bold -lover as he left her, or the rumour that Imola was soon to be visited -by Cæsar Borgia--the only being on earth she seemed to fear--that had -led her to a step which must be told.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a monastery of Cistercian monks upon a hill some five miles -distant from Imola, and, in the early morning of a summer's day, a -gallant cavalcade of some eight horsemen and three women, with Leonora -at their head, stopped at the gates. She dismounted, and, bidding the -attendants wait, went in alone. She asked the porter to call Father -Angelo to her; but the old man, when he came, evidently knew her not. -He was a servile-looking, shrewd-eyed man, and her air, as well as her -attire, impressed him. "What is it, daughter?" he said. "Can I give -you any spiritual aid?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora fixed her lustrous eyes upon him, and seemed to look into his -very heart. "No, father," she answered; "I have my own confessor, and -a holy and good man he is. It is aid of another kind I seek from you. -I have heard that you have cultivated much the natural sciences, know -all the secret virtues of herbs and minerals, and have prepared drugs -which will remove from earth a dangerous friend or a potent enemy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, daughter," said the monk, interrupting her, "these drugs are not -to be intrusted to girls and children, and----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hear me out," she said; "I seek none of these. What I demand, and -what I must have, is for my own defence. One I loved very well was -once injured by a poisoned weapon, and it took much skill and deep -knowledge to save his life. It struck me then, and it has often -occurred to my mind since, that a weapon so anointed were no poor -defence, even in a woman's feeble hand. Nay, more, that if placed -beyond all hope of safety, she might preserve herself from wrong by a -slight scratch, when her coward hand might fail to plunge the weapon -in her own heart. Once such a means might have been needful to me, -but, thank Heaven, another mode of escape was found. See here. I have -bought this dagger against time of need. The groove, you see, is -perfect, but I want that which makes it efficacious. That you must -give--sell me, I should have said, for you shall have gold enough; and -if any scruple linger in your mind, I promise you, by all I hold most -sacred, never to use it but in my own defence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, there may be truth in what you say," replied the monk. "Rome is -not far off, and there are strange things, they tell me, taking place -in Rome. But you are a strange lady, and approach boldly matters that -even men treat with some circumlocution."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do so because my purposes are holy," replied Leonora. "I have -nothing to conceal, because I have nothing to fear, good father. But -let us not waste time. Will a hundred ducats satisfy you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It should be a hundred and fifty," said the monk. "Such things are -dangerous, and our good father the pope has strictly forbidden the -sale of these drugs to anybody out of his own family."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, take the hundred and fifty," said Leonora. "Bring the poison -quickly, for my attendants will grow impatient."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I must mark the phial 'Poison,'" he replied; "then, if you misuse -it, the fault is yours."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mark it what you please," she answered. "Here is the money in this -purse when you bring the drug; but be speedy."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old man gazed into her eyes for a moment as if to read her real -purposes; then bidding her remain beneath the arch, he hurried away. -In a few minutes he returned with a small vial containing a white -powder, and not only gave it to her, but showed her how to apply it to -the blade of the dagger so that the slightest scratch would prove -fatal. "Mix it with water," he said, "and then a drop not bigger than -a drop of dew will do; and remember, daughter, this is no common drug, -such as vulgar, unlearned assassins use. Its effects are instant, -either taken by the lips or infused into the veins. Be cautious, -therefore; and mind, when you apply it, use a thick gauntlet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There--there--there is the money," said Leonora, taking the vial -eagerly; and then she added, speaking to herself, "Now, man, I defy -you. I have my safety in my own hands," and, paying the monk the -money, she remounted her horse and rode down the hill.</p> - -<p class="normal">The old monk, while he counted the money carefully, gazed after her, -muttering to himself, "Now that is for some fair rival, belike, or -else for some faithless lover. Mayhap her husband has played her -false. Ay, Heaven help us! we have always some good excuse for -covering over our real intentions from the eyes of others. To save her -honour at the expense of her life! That is a likely tale indeed! We -have no Lucretias now-a-days except the pope's daughter, and she is a -Lucretia of another sort."</p> - -<p class="normal">Whatever the old man in his hardened nature might think, Leonora -d'Orco had no purpose but the one she stated. She had long felt the -necessity of the means of self-defence. She had long known that the -only dread she ever experienced now, would vanish if she possessed the -immediate power of life or death over an assailant or over herself. -The dagger she had bought in Florence some weeks after the burning of -the Villa Morelli, but she doubted her strength--not her courage--to -use it with effect. But when the least wound would prove fatal, the -weapon had a higher value. "One scratch upon my arm or upon his hand," -she said to herself, "and I am safe from worse than death."</p> - -<p class="normal">It must have been a terrible state of society which led a young girl -to contemplate such a resource as a blessing. I cannot venture to give -anything like a picture of that state. Suffice it that the fears of -Leonora d'Orco were not superfluous, nor her precautions without -cause.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">I have heard it said that the world is weary of the -picturesque in -writing, tired of landscape painters, eager only for the tale or for -the characters--the pepper and salt of fiction. So be it. But yet -there is something in a scene--in the place, in the very spot where -any great events are enacted, which gives not only an identity, but a -harmony to the narrative of these events. Imola, with its old castle -and its sombre walls, now repaired and strengthened by the care of -Ramiro d'Orco, lay, like the hard and rugged stone of the peach, in -the centre of more sweet and beautiful things.</p> - -<p class="normal">That was the age of villa building in Italy, and, as I have shown in a -previous part of this work, some of the noblest architects that the -world ever produced had already appeared, and produced specimens of a -new and characteristic style, unsurpassed by any other efforts. Imola -was surrounded by villas, but there was one more costly and extensive -than any of the rest, which hung upon the hill-side, with gardens, and -terraces, and fountains round about. The villa now belonged to Ramiro -d'Orco, and thither he would often retire, after the labours of the -day were over, to walk, solitary and thoughtful, as was his wont, -under the great stone-pines which lined the avenue.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was the favourite home of Leonora; for, though she was so much -changed in every habit, if not in every thought, there was one -exception--she still loved to sit beneath the trees or upon a terrace, -whence she could see over a wide landscape. She no longer sought -absolute solitude, it is true; she suffered herself not to be plunged -into those deep fits of thought, which had been her only comfort -during Lorenzo's long absence at Naples. Usually she had one of her -maids with her, well-educated girls, who could converse, though not -very profoundly; and their light talk, though it did not always wean -her mind from the subjects on which it was bent, just sufficed to -ripple the too still waters of meditation.</p> - -<p class="normal">She was thus seated one afternoon, just in the beginning of the -autumn, in an angle of the gardens, whence she could see on all sides -around but one, with a girl named Carlotta at her feet. If there be -aught on earth which deserves the name of divine, it is the weather in -some parts of Italy when the summer has lost its full heat, and the -autumn knows nothing yet of wintry chill, when the grape is just -beginning to grow purple, and the cheek of the fig looks warm. Such -was that day, and it would seem that the balmy influence of the air -and the brightness of the scene had their influence upon poor Leonora, -bringing back some of the gaiety and sportiveness of other years.</p> - -<p class="normal">"So, foolish Carlotta," said her mistress, "you must needs go down to -the dusty town this morning--to see your lover, I warrant, and arrange -for this wedding I have heard of."</p> - -<p class="normal">Carlotta blushed and smiled, and said "Ay;" and her mistress gave her -a tap upon the cheek, exclaiming--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Out upon you, silly girl! can you not be content without making -yourself a slave?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is woman's nature, lady," replied the girl; "we all like to be -slaves to those we love. I do believe that there is no woman who does -not wish to marry; and do you know, lady, that people wonder that you -have never given your hand to any one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I!" exclaimed Leonora, with a start, and an expression almost of pain -upon her face; "I marry any one! I wish to marry any one! to be the -passive plaything of a rude boor--to be sported with at his will and -pleasure--to have the sanctity of my chamber invaded by a coarse man! -When I think of it, I cannot but marvel that any woman, with the -feelings of a woman, can so degrade herself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The feelings of the woman prompt her, lady," said Carlotta; "but, do -you know, I saw a man at Mother Agostina's--that is, my Bernardino's -aunt--a courier just returned from France, and he told me that all the -people there say that you are married."</p> - -<p class="normal">"More likely to be buried, my Carlotta," replied Leonora; "but what -have the people of France to do with me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, they seem to have a great deal to do with Italy now," rejoined -the girl. "Since the pope's son has been to the place they call -Chinon, and has been made Duke of Valentinois by the new King of -France, that monarch seems to be as much pope in Rome as the Holy -Father himself. Have you not heard, lady, that a whole crowd of -Frenchmen--lords and knights, and such like--are coming over with some -chosen troops to help Alexander and the new duke to make up a great -duchy here in Italy for him who used to be a cardinal, and who is now -a soldier?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, I have heard nothing of it," replied Leonora; "doubtless my -father has, if the gossip be true."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! it is quite true, lady," replied the girl; "all was in -preparation when Giacomo came away, and, besides, at the King of -France's desire, the pope has made one of these young lords Prefect of -Romagna. But he is Italian by birth, they say, and a cousin of the -King of France, and brings his beautiful young wife with him."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora rose from her seat and gazed into the girl's eyes for a moment -in silence, with a look that almost frightened poor Carlotta. "Did you -hear his name?" she asked, at length.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was Lorenzo something," replied the girl; "Visconti, I think."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora turned away abruptly, and with a quick step climbed the hill, -entered the villa, and sought her own apartments. She passed through -the ante-room, and through that where her maids sat embroidering, -without speaking a word, and entering her own chamber, cast herself -down upon her bed and wept.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fool! fool! fool that I am!" she cried, at length, starting up. "I -thought I had torn it out by the roots; but it is there still."</p> - -<p class="normal">She drew the dagger, in its sheath of velvet and gold, from her bosom, -gazed at it for a moment and murmured,</p> - -<p class="normal">"Only this, or what this gives, can root it out; but no, no, I am not -mad. This will all pass away. I will conquer it now--even now. I may -have to see him again! Then I will look upon him now, as he was when I -believed him faithful and true, as he was when he seemed all that was -noble and just," and, opening a drawer in the table, she took forth a -small, beautiful gilded frame, in the centre of which appeared the -sketch of Lorenzo which had been drawn by Leonardo da Vinci. "Ah! -picture," she said, gazing at it, "how often hast thou been my comfort -and solace in other hours--ay, even to the last; for who could gaze -upon that noble face and think the soul so base! Lorenzo! Lorenzo! you -have made my misery! Pray God that you have not made your own too. -What has become of good Leonardo's auguries? what of his dream, that -by the features you could read the spirit? But it matters not. I will -steel myself to meet you, should you come--to gaze upon this fair wife -you have preferred to Leonora, and who, men say, is so light, and so -unworthy of the man I thought you. Perhaps she may suit you better -than I should have done; for God knows she cannot be more fickle than -you are. Yes, the momentary madness is passing away. I shall soon be -myself again, and will play my part to the end, let it be what it -may."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Madam, a cavalier below desires to see you," said a servant, opening -the door abruptly. Leonora started with a look almost of terror, for -her mind was so full of one object that she thought the stranger could -be no other than Lorenzo; but the servant went on: "He says his name -is Leonardo da Vinci, and that you know him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is strange," said Leonora to herself; and then turning to the -man she added, "take him to my own saloon, and see that he and his -servants be well cared for. I will be down in a few moments."</p> - -<p class="normal">She washed away the marks of tears from her eyes, brushed smooth her -hair, and then descended the short flight of steps which led as a -private way from her chamber to the gorgeous room below, which was -known and held sacred as her own saloon. She found the great painter -standing in the midst, and gazing at some fine pictures which -ornamented the walls.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Welcome, signor," she said--"most welcome to Imola. No other house -must be your home while you are here than this, or my father's palace -in the citadel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your pardon, bright lady," said Leonardo, gazing at her, "my home is -ever an inn, and I cannot sacrifice my liberty even to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are wise, maestro," answered Leonora, somewhat gravely. "No man -should sacrifice his liberty to a woman, nor any woman to a man. It is -a new creed I have got, but I think it is a good one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Old creeds are best," replied Leonardo, seriously. "We can advance -from one to another, as we can mount the steps of a temple to the holy -of holies, but each step must be founded upon that which went before, -and each must rest upon truth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas! where shall we find truth?" asked Leonora; and then she added, -in a melancholy but sweet tone, "Let us not approach painful subjects, -my good friend. We cannot meet without thinking of them. If we speak -of them we shall think of them still more. I know that truth is in my -own heart--where else I know not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps where you least think," replied the painter; "but you are -right, lady. Could it do any good, I might speak even of the most -painful things; but where the irrevocable seal is fixed it is vain to -explain--vain to regret. You are as beautiful as ever, I see, but with -that change which change of thought and feeling brings. I have come to -paint your picture; and I can paint it now better than I could when we -last met."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed! How so?" asked Leonora.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because it is easier to paint matter than spirit--angel or demon, as -the case may be--which, transfusing itself through the whole frame, -breathes from the face and animates every movement. Again, at other -times, it leaves the human tenement vacant, or sits retired in a -corner of the heart, pondering the bitterness of life. Mere animal -life then acts and carries us through the business of existence; but -the sentient, feeling soul is dead or entranced, and pervades not the -face or limbs with that varying beauty which is so difficult for the -painter to seize and to transfer. I can paint you better now than -formerly; and the painting to the common eye will be more beautiful, -but to mine and to the poet's there may be a lack of something--of -that expression of soul which the features require for harmony--and -yet it is not entirely wanting. When you first came in, there was a -rigidity about your look, as if you mastered some emotion. Now there -is more light, as if there were emotion still. You must have suffered -agitation lately. Forgive me. I am a rough, plain-spoken man, too apt -to give counsel where it is not sought, and to note feelings people -would wish concealed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You see too deeply and too well," replied Leonora; "but still I say, -maestro, let us not converse on such things. The past is dead. The -present, alas! has no life in it for me. Emotion is the most transient -of all things with me. Like a stone dropped by a boy into a still -lake, it may go deep but ripples the surface only for a moment, and -all is still again. If you wish my portrait, take it; but let not our -thoughts be saddened while the work is beneath your hand by memories -of other days, when happiness gave that spirit to my face which, as -you judge rightly, has departed for ever. Let us talk of art, of -science--what you will, in short; for I have studied much since last -we met, and can encounter you with more knowledge, but not less -humility; but let us speak no more of buried feelings, the very ghosts -of which bring fear and anguish with them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas! that it should be so, sweet lady," replied Leonardo; "but, sad -as may be your fate, there may be others, seemingly more happy, who -are more miserable still.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I am not miserable," she answered; but then, recollecting the -keen insight of the man she spoke to, she paused and added, "If I am, -'tis but in fits. As an old wound, I am told, long healed, will smart -with a change of weather, so at times my heart will ache when -something comes to weaken it. But enough of this, maestro. Look at -those pictures on the wall. Those three are by one hand, and that the -hand of a youth. Are they not beautiful?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, they are sublime," replied Leonardo. "Who is the painter? He -will one day be one of the mighty men of his day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"His name is Buonaroti Simoni," replied Leonora, "I brought them with -me from Florence. My father has two more, which he will show you."</p> - -<p class="normal">She thus changed the subject to one of colder interest; but when -Leonardo left her, some of his words lingered in her mind, and brought -back to her thoughts things which had better been forgotten.</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Perhaps I might find truth where I least thought,'" said Leonora to -herself. "Those were his words. What can he mean? 'There may be those, -seemingly more happy, who are more miserable still.' There is -something beneath all this; but it is vain--vain--all vain. I will -think of it no more;" and yet she thought.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Prefect of Romagna!" said Ramiro d'Orco to himself, walking -up and -down his private cabinet in the castle of Imola; "that may create a -conflict of jurisdictions with the vicars of the Church. It is an -awkward office to give or to hold."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke in a low voice to himself, and though his words were serious, -and implied a difficulty of some magnitude, there was an unwonted -smile upon his lip, as if there was something that satisfied him well.</p> - -<p class="normal">He rang a little silver bell which stood upon the table, and when a -servant appeared, ordered him to seek for Father Peter and bring him -thither. The man was a long time absent, but Ramiro d'Orco sat -quietly, with that well-pleased smile on his lip, gazing at some -papers before him, but quite unconscious of the characters with which -they were covered. What were his meditations, who can say? for some -smiles are not altogether pleasant; and his was far from being benign.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the friar appeared--now in reality a friar, for there were -strange transformations in those days; assassins sometimes became -friars, and friars were not unfrequently assassins.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sit, good father, sit," said Ramiro d'Orco, "I have news for you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good news, I hope, my lord," replied Mardocchi. "I have some news for -you, too; but mine is not the best; however, it matters but little."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mine matters much," said Ramiro d'Orco. "What think you, Mardocchi? -Our friend, Lorenzo Visconti, has been appointed by the pope, at the -instigation of Louis XII., King of France, Prefect of Romagna, and is -about, in this fine weather, to make a tour through the exarchate and -the legations. He must come to Imola of course; and I have letters -here from that high and mighty prince Cæsar, Duke of Valentinois, -requiring me, by the favour in which I stand with him, to receive the -prefect with all due honour, and to make his time pass pleasantly. We -will do it, Mardocchi--we will do it; for, although there is a very -palpable hint in Borgia's missive that no harm is to be done to the -cousin of King Louis, yet, perhaps, we can so manage that he shall -find means to harm himself. He has an army at his back to help Cæsar -Borgia in carving out a principality from the heart of Italy; but the -vicars of the Holy See, and I as the humblest of them, must reverently -crave his Holiness to spare us the burden of the prefect's troops. We -will receive him gladly with a noble train, but methinks we cannot -admit an armed French force within our walls."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of course," replied Mardocchi, "that would be selling yourself to the -devil without pay. But I should think he would not come to Imola. He -cannot like to show himself before your eyes--and, if he did come, it -would be somewhat painful to the signora your daughter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He will come--he will come," replied Ramiro; "and he shall be -gallantly received. Fêtes and festivals shall greet him; he shall have -every reverence and every joy. He shall be taught to think that we can -forget as easily as he can; but he shall find that to slight the -daughter of Ramiro d'Orco is to tread upon an asp. As for my Leonora, -she has a proud and a noble heart. I have seen all the struggles--I -have marked the terrible conflict in her breast, and she has come out -victorious. My word for it, she will meet the young prefect and his -fair wife with all calm courtesy, greet him as an old friend, and seem -never to remember that he betrayed her unsuspecting heart, slighted -her love, and left her to disappointment and regret."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is all very good for the beginning," said Mardocchi, who was -quite a practical man; "but how does your lordship intend to proceed -in the more weighty part of the business? This Lorenzo Visconti is not -so easily reached as people might suppose. I told you how he killed my -friend and lord, Buondoni, under the very nose of the Duke of Milan--a -better man than Signor Buondoni never lived--and, if my advice had -been taken, and a dagger used instead of a sword, the youth would not -have troubled us any more; but Buondoni was always fond of the sword, -and of doing things openly, and so----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know the whole history better than even you do, my friend," replied -Ramiro d'Orco; "Buondoni did like the sword, but he liked it well -anointed, and this Lorenzo would have died had I not cured him. His -life is mine, for I saved it for him; but as to how I shall proceed I -cannot yet determine. That must depend upon the time and circumstances -of his coming; but I have thought it needful to have you warned and -prepared in the matter; for on your skill and assistance I rely, and -you know I never forget services rendered any more than offences -given."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mardocchi made no answer for a few minutes, but remained gazing in -silent thought upon the ornamented floor, until, at length, Ramiro -exclaimed:</p> - -<p class="normal">"You make no answer, friar; what are you thinking of?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was thinking," said Mardocchi slowly, "of what a glorious thing it -would be if we could so entangle him that we could make him not only -forfeit his own life, but also that honour and renown of which he is -so proud. Such things have been done, my lord, and may be done again. -I have heard that when Galeazzo was Duke of Milan, he got a cavalier -to poison his own sister to save her honour, as he thought, then -proved the crime upon him, and put him to the rack. Now, this Lorenzo, -if I have heard rightly, cares little for mere life--nay, would almost -thank the man who took it from him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why so?" asked Ramiro, sharply, a sudden doubt flashing across his -mind, like a light in a dark night lost again as soon as seen; "why -so, friar?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"If there be any truth," said Mardocchi, fully on his guard, "in the -reports brought by the followers of the great duke from France, this -wife whom he has wedded is as light a piece of vanity as ever made a -husband miserable. Nothing has been proved against her, but there are -many suspicions of her faithlessness. She is ever followed by a train -of lovers, giving her smiles now to the one, now to the other. -Visconti feels the wound with all the bitterness of a proud heart, but -cannot find the cure. In the meanwhile he bears himself carelessly, as -if he thought not of it; but Antonio Pistrucci, Duke Cæsar's under -purse-bearer, assured me that the young man was weary of his life, and -that, at the storming of a castle in Navarre, he so clearly sought to -lose it that the whole army saw his purpose. What I would infer, my -lord, is this: if you give him merely death, you give him what he -wants, and he remains unpunished but if you give him dishonour too, -you inflict all that other men feel in death, and something more -besides."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That were hard to accomplish," said Ramiro d'Orco, rising, and pacing -backward and forward in the room; "I see not how it can be done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We have time to think, my lord," replied the friar; "leave me to -devise a scheme. If my brain be better than a mouldy biscuit, I will -find some means. If I fail, we can always recur to the ordinary plan."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, ingenuity does much," said Ramiro d'Orco; "and, as you say, -Mardocchi, there is time to consider our plans well. But you mentioned -news you had to bring me: what may be their purport?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis no great matter," answered Mardocchi; "but it bears upon the -very subject we have spoken of. As I came hither at your lordship's -order, I saw, riding in by the Forli gate, no other than an old friend -of mine, one Antonio, whom you know well, for he procured me the -honour of your service. I know not whether he is a follower of this -Lorenzo still, but I should think he is; and if I can find him in the -city, where he must stop at least to bait his horse, I can perhaps -procure information which may be serviceable."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Serviceable indeed," replied Ramiro d'Orco, with more eagerness than -he was accustomed to show; "hasten down, good friar. See where he -lodges; obtain all the news you can from him. What we most want is -information of this young man's plans and purposes. That once -obtained, we can shape our own course to meet them. But remember, my -good Mardocchi, this man, this Antonio, is a personage to be treated -warily. He is shrewd and far-seeing. You must guard well every word -you say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know him well, my lord," replied Mardocchi. "We were at school -together when we were boys, and he is not much changed since. But I -will not waste time in talking. He was riding fast when I saw him, and -perhaps he may only stop to bait his horse and get some food for -himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, Mardocchi left the room, and proceeded straight from the -castle through the sort of esplanade that lay before the gates, and -into the town. He walked fast, but with a meditative air; and it must -be remembered that he had many things to consider.</p> - -<p class="normal">When there is in the human heart a consciousness of evil done, there -is always more or less fear; and his first thoughts were directed to -calculate what where the chances of explanations taking place between -Lorenzo Visconti and Ramiro d'Orco if they ever met again on familiar -terms.</p> - -<p class="normal">He soon saw, however, that those chances were small; that Lorenzo, by -his marriage, had placed a barrier between the present and the past, -that was not likely to be overleaped; and that while he was certain -never to seek explanations himself, there was as little probability of -Ramiro or Leonora either giving or receiving them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Besides," he argued, "if all the explanations in the world took -place, they can prove nothing in the world against me."</p> - -<p class="normal">The next consideration that presented itself was the promise he made -Antonio to practise nothing against his lord's life; and though it may -seem strange that a man so utterly unscrupulous should attach such -importance to an adherence to his word, yet we see such anomalies -every day in human character, and in his case it might easily be -explained, if we had time or space to bestow upon it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Suffice it, however, to say, in a few words, that this adherence to -his word, once pledged, was the only virtue he had retained through -life. A stubborn adhesion to his resolutions of any kind had -characterized him even as a boy, and it had become a matter of pride -with him to abide by what he had said. The difficulty with him now was -that Ramiro d'Orco would indubitably require assistance from his own -hand in taking vengeance upon Lorenzo Visconti, if some means could -not be found to betray the young nobleman into some dangerous act -which would fall back upon his own head.</p> - -<p class="normal">This scheme had flashed suddenly through his mind while conversing -with Ramiro; and he saw in it the only means of escaping from the -breach of his word, or the acknowledgment of scruples which he knew -would be treated with contempt. The plan when he first suggested it, -was without form or feature; but now his busy and crafty brain eagerly -pursued the train, and a thousand schemes suggested themselves, some -of which were feasible, some wild and hopeless.</p> - -<p class="normal">During all this time, however, he forgot not his immediate errand. He -watched everything passing in the street around him, and looked in at -the two small taverns in the street of the citadel. There was a better -inn, however, on the small square by the bishop's palace, where were -also most of the best houses of the city, and thither Mardocchi bent -his way. On reaching it, he entered the great court-yard, and inquired -if any strangers had arrived that day.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, father," replied the ostler to whom he spoke, "some seven or -eight; one gentleman, with four or five servants and three sumpter -mules, and two or three other persons."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go into the stable and see the horses, my son," said -Mardocchi. "You know I am fond of a fine beast, and my own mule has -not its match in Imola."</p> - -<p class="normal">The two strolled onward to the stable door, conversing familiarly, as -was the custom with friar and citizen in those days; and Mardocchi -passed down the line of stalls, discussing the merits of the horses, -till at length he laid his hand upon the haunch of a fine grey barb, -saying, "I want to see the man who rode this horse."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is within, at dinner in the hall," answered the ostler. "He came -himself to see his horse fed while they got ready for him. He is a -careful signor, and marks everything he sees. He told me in a minute -that those other horses belong to the great maestro Leonardo da Vinci -though he did not know him, for they passed each other close without -speaking."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go in and see him," said the friar; and entering the inn by -the back way, he strolled into the dining-hall with an indifferent and -purposeless look, as if there was no object in his coming.</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio was sitting alone at a table, with his back towards the door -by which Mardocchi entered; but the tread of the latter upon the -rushes which strewed the floor made the other turn sharply round as he -came near.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! Signor Antonio, is that you?" exclaimed Mardocchi; "why what, in -Fortune's name, brings you to Imola?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well met, father---father what is your name? for, by my faith, I have -forgotten," cried Antonio, keeping his eye fixed upon him more firmly -than Mardocchi altogether liked; "and what brings you to the Keys of -St. Peter? I thought that taverns and public-houses were forbidden to -your sacred calling except in time of travel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Many things are forbidden that men do," replied Mardocchi, with a -laugh; "and my sacred calling does not prevent my throat from getting -dry. I came seeking a small flagon of the wine they have here, which -is the best in Italy. Have you tasted it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good faith! no," answered Antonio; "I thought not to find anything -worth drinking in this small, dull place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I will have a big flagon instead of a small one," rejoined -Mardocchi, "and you shall share it with me. Here, drawer! drawer! -bring me a big flagon of that same old Orvietto wine which I had when -last I was here. You mistake much, Signor Antonio, both as to the wine -and as to the place. It is no dull town, I can tell you, but as gay a -city as any in Italy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It will be gayer before we have done with it," replied Antonio, "for -there are high doings where my lady is, and she will be here ere many -days are over."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said Mardocchi; "but taste that wine, my son--taste that -wine, and tell me if ever you drank better. Sour stuff we used to have -where I passed my novitiate. They were strict in nothing but that, -Antonio; but it was the rule of the order that the body must be -mortified in some way, and they judged that the wine way was the -safest; for, there being taverns not far off, a man might mend his -drink when he went out to buy for the convent."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my faith! it is good, indeed," said Antonio, after a deep draught; -"if the meat be as good as the drink, we shall fare well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nowhere better," replied the friar; "woodcocks with bills that long, -and breasts that thick" (and he demonstrated the measures on his arm -and hand); "beef as fat and as juicy as if it had been cut out of an -abbot's sirloin; fish from the Adriatic and the brook for Fridays; and -now and then a wild-boar steak, which would make a hermit break Lent."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well then, my lady will fare sumptuously, and I shall be spared -scolding the purveyors, as I was obliged to do at Forli," was -Antonio's reply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you speak only of your lady," remarked Mardocchi; "does not your -lord come likewise?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I cannot tell," answered Antonio; "I only know that she comes -first, and waits for him here, while he makes a tour through the -legations. He thinks the air of Rome too cool for her health, and, as -he is very careful of her, she comes hither."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a sly humour in his speech which Mardocchi well understood; -and he asked, "But why did he choose Imola for her residence; because -he thought it was so dull, as you said just now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He did not choose it," replied Antonio; "no, no, 'twas she. He gave -her the choice of several cities around, and she chose Imola. She -knew, perhaps, it was the place he would least like; for some of the -good-natured babblers of the court had taken care to tell her of -certain passages in days past, and also that the lady of his early -love lived here. Madonna Eloise might think it would give him pain to -meet a dame who had treated him so unkindly, and so she chose Imola."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Theirs must be a sweet life, by all accounts," said the friar; "I -have heard a good deal of this matter before from men in the -cardinal's train when he went to France. They say she is unfaithful to -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, not unfaithful," replied Antonio, quickly, "but light -enough to make men think her so. But now, my good friend Mardocchi, -what makes you interest yourself so much in all this matter? You have -got over all old grudges by this time, I hope."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Mardocchi bluntly, "I never forget grudges or promises -either, Antonio. You tied my hands, or I would have sent your lord to -a better world long ago. I could have taken his life in the French -camp, just when he parted from the old Cardinal Julian; for I was -close behind them both, and nobody would have known it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should," replied Antonio, "for I know your handiwork, Mardocchi, -just as a connoisseur knows the touch of a great master's pencil. But -why should you bear him ill-will? His sword got you a much better -master than Buondoni."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I deny," said Mardocchi; "besides, I am little with this Signor -Ramiro now; I am but a poor friar, and he is great lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, but you are much with greater lords than he," said Antonio. "I -have heard of you in Rome, Mardocchi; and I could tell where you were -on certain nights which you wot of; but I am as secret as the grave, -my good friend. Now tell me how it fares with the Lady Leonora?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, she is well, and gay as a sunbeam," replied Mardocchi; "the life -and the delight of the city."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Methinks if I had treated a lover so, first broke his heart and then -driven him to wed without love, I should not be quite so happy," was -Antonio's answer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is strange," said the friar, in a natural tone; "but women are -full of wild caprices."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is true, indeed," replied Antonio; "but she might at least -have written to say she had changed her mind--that her mood was -altered--that she had seen some one else she loved better."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did she never write?" asked the friar.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He never received her letter, if she did," answered Antonio, in a -tone so peculiar that Mardocchi's cheek changed colour, not -unperceived by his companion. But Antonio instantly sought another -subject, and the conversation was prolonged for more than an hour. The -wine was very good, and both drank deep; but neither could persuade -the other to pass the bound where the brain becomes unsteady and the -tongue treacherous. When they rose to separate, the balance of -knowledge gained, however, was certainly on Antonio's side. He had -told nothing but what was known, or soon would be known to every one. -Neither had the monk in words; but Antonio gathered not his -intelligence from words. It was one of his quaint sayings that no two -things were so opposite as words and facts. But every look, every turn -of expression, every doubtful phrase, or endeavour to evade the point -or double round the question, gave him light; and by the time -Mardocchi left him, if he had not reached the truth, he had come -somewhat near it.</p> - -<p class="normal">True, he fancied that the friar had been but Ramiro's instrument in -breaking through the engagement between Leonora and her lover; but -that her letters had been stopped, and probably Lorenzo's intercepted, -he did not doubt. To a mind so keen as his this was a sufficient clue -to after discoveries; and while Mardocchi hurried back to the citadel -to tell Ramiro that Antonio would stay out the day, and was about to -hire the great Casa Orsina, next to the bishop's palace, for the -prefect's wife--that she would be in Imola in a few days, and that -Lorenzo's coming was uncertain, Antonio remained for half an hour in -thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," he said to himself, "hers was true love, if ever I beheld -it; and he says she is gay, the life and soul of the place. That is -unnatural--she loves him still! And he, poor youth, loves her; and is -ever contrasting her in his mind with this light, half-harlot wife, -with whom it has pleased Heaven to curse him. I can see it in his eyes -when he looks at her--I can see it when she scatters round her smiles -on the gilded coxcombs of the court. Yet there must be something more -to discover, and, please God, I will discover it."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XL.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Days flew; the wife of the prefect arrived at Imola; Ramiro -d'Orco -went out to meet her at a league's distance from the city; no honour, -no attention did he neglect; the guards at the gates received her -drawn up in martial array; and in the palace which had been engaged -for her, at the foot of the great staircase, Leonora waited with her -maids to welcome the young wife of him whom she had so tenderly loved.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a strange meeting between these two girls--for both were yet -girls--neither twenty years of age. They both gazed upon each other -with curious, scrutinizing eyes; but their feelings were very -different. Eloise de Chaumont marvelled at Leonora's wonderful -beauty--at the profusion of her jetty hair--at the softened lustre of -her large, full, shaded eyes--at the delicate carving of the ever -varying features--at the undulating grace, flowing, with every -movement of her rounded, symmetrical limbs, into some new form of -loveliness. She thought, "Well, she is beautiful, indeed! No wonder -Lorenzo loved her. But, on my faith, she does not appear one to treat -any man cruelly. I should rather think she would yield at love's first -summons."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora, on the other hand, though she was calm and perfectly -composed, felt matter for pain in the gaze which Eloise fixed upon -her. She could plainly see that Lorenzo's wife knew of the love which -had once existed between him and herself. "Perhaps he himself had told -her of it--and how had he told it? Had he boasted that he had won her -heart and then cast her off? She would not believe it. Notwithstanding -all, she believed him to be noble still. He might be fickle; but -Lorenzo could not be base. Oh yes, fickle he was even to Eloise," she -thought. "From every report which had reached her, he had soon wearied -of her who had supplanted the first love of his heart."</p> - -<p class="normal">A certain wavering look of grief, which came from time to time into -the countenance of Eloise, showed that she too was somehow -disappointed, and a strange, unnatural bond of sympathy seemed to -establish itself between two hearts the most opposite in feelings and -in principles, the least likely, from circumstances, to be linked -together.</p> - -<p class="normal">They passed nearly an hour together; and Eloise promised on the -following day to come and partake of a banquet at the villa on the -hill. She had a sort of caressing way with her which was very winning; -and when Leonora told her she must go, for that Leonardo, the great -painter, waited her at home, she took the once promised bride of her -husband in her arms, and held her there for a moment, kissing her -cheek tenderly. "You are very beautiful," she whispered; "well may the -painter take you for his model!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora blushed and disengaged herself; and, though she was still calm -as a statue externally, many an hour passed before her heart recovered -from the agitation of that interview.</p> - -<p class="normal">She was destined to feel more emotion, too, that day. Leonardo de -Vinci waited her as she expected, and at once proceeded to his work. -While Ramiro d'Orco remained, the painter was nearly silent; but as -soon as the baron was gone, he began to speak; and his speech was -cruel upon poor Leonora. He asked her many questions regarding her -late meeting with Lorenzo's wife, made her describe Eloise, and -commented as she spoke.</p> - -<p class="normal">Then he began to ask questions as to the past--not direct and -intrusive, but such as forced indirectly much of the truth from -Leonora regarding her own feelings and her view of Lorenzo's -conduct--and the painter meditated gloomily. He had not yet mentioned -Lorenzo's name, but at length it was spoken with a melancholy allusion -to the many chances, deceits, and accidents which might bring disunion -between two hearts both true.</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora burst into tears, and, starting up, exclaimed, "I cannot--I -cannot, my friend. If you would have my picture, forbear! Come -to-morrow; to-day I can bear no more."</p> - -<p class="normal">So saying, she left the room, and Leonardo remained in thought, -sometimes gazing at the picture he had commenced, sometimes at the -pallet in his hand, figuring in fancy strange forms and glowing -landscapes out of the colours daubed upon it. But though the eye, and -the fancy, and the imagination had occupation, the reasoning mind, -which has a strange faculty of separating itself from things which -seem its attributes, nay, even parts of its essence, to the -superficial eye, was busy with matters altogether different. It was -engaged with Leonora and her fate.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is strange--this is unaccountable," he thought; "she loves him -still; she always has loved him. She casts the blame of their -separation on him; and he--miserable young man!--thinks her to blame, -and has put a seal upon his own wretchedness by marrying yon light -piece of vanity whom I saw in Rome. Pride, pride! How much -wretchedness would be spared if people would condescend to explain; -and yet perhaps there has been some dark work under this; it must be -so, or some explanation would have taken place. I will search it to -the bottom. I will know the whole ere I am done. They cannot, they -shall not baffle me."</p> - -<p class="normal">He started up, laid down his pallet and his brushes, and then, after -gazing at the picture for a moment, took his way down the few steps -which led from Leonora's saloon down to a little flower-garden, shaded -by some pine-trees, in a quiet nook at the end of the terrace. Two -marble steps brought him to the terrace itself, and, hurrying along -its broad expanse, not without feeling and noticing the beauty of the -view, Leonardo reached the wide avenue, lined with stone-pines, which -led to the gates of the gardens.</p> - -<p class="normal">About half way down he met a man coming leisurely up; and, as his -all-noting eye fell upon him, the painter suddenly stopped, saying:</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who are you, my friend? I know your face right well, and yet I cannot -attach a name to it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know yours too, signor," replied the other; "but there is a -difference between Leonardo da Vinci, the great master, and poor -Antonio, the humble friend and servant of Lorenzo Visconti; the one -name will live for ever, the other will never be known. I met you and -spoke to you once or twice at Belgiojoso in happier days."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, I recollect you now," said Leonardo; "but how happens it, my -friend, that you are going up to the villa of the Signor d'Orco and -his daughter?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was going to see the young signora," replied Antonio. "I do not -perceive why I should not. I have ever loved her in my humble way, and -love her still; for, to tell the truth, signer maestro, I cannot -believe that she has ever wilfully ill-treated one whom I love better -still."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nor I--nor I, Antonio," cried the painter, eagerly grasping his arm; -"she believes that he has ill-treated her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, God knows, not that," replied Antonio. "Oh, had you seen how he -pined, signor, for the least news of her, or how his heart was torn -and moved when his letters were returned with nothing but a scrap of -her handwriting, contemptuous in its tone and meaning, you would know -at once he is not to blame."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nor she either, by my hopes of Heaven!" cried Leonardo. "But come -with me, good friend--come with me. You cannot see the lady--she is -ill; and I have matter for your own private ear. There is some dark -mystery here, which I fain would unravel with your aid. I am resolute -to sound it to the very depth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how can we do that?" said Antonio; "those who have kept their -secrets so well and so long, are not likely to let it slip out of -their hands now. These are no babes we have deal with, signor, and if -Ramiro d'Orco is at the bottom of it, you might as well hope to see -through a block of stone as to discover anything that is in his mind."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has no share in it, I think," answered Leonardo, after a moment's -thought. "He is a man moved solely by his ambition or his interests; -and all his interests would have led him to seek this marriage rather -than break it off. Not a man in Italy, who seeks to gain a seat upon -the hill of power, but looks to the King of France to lend a helping -hand, and this breach between his daughter and Lorenzo tends more to -Ramiro's destruction than his elevation. Do you not know some one who -has some ancient grudge or desperate enmity towards our young -prefect?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio started as if some one had struck him a blow. The truth, the -whole truth, flashed upon his mind at once.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The villain!" he murmured; "but, to expose him altogether, and to -discover all, we must, we must be very careful. I do know such a man, -Signor Leonardo; but let us be very secret or we may frighten him. -Satan was never more cunning, Moloch more cruel. He was bred up in a -school of blood and craft, and we must speak of him in whispers till -we can grasp him by the neck. Let us be silent as we pass through the -town. There, at your lodgings in the inn, after seeing that all the -doors are closed, and no one eaves-dropping around, I will tell you -all I know, and leave you to judge if my suspicions are right."</p> - -<p class="normal">Not a word more was spoken; and as the results of the conversation -which took place between them after they reached the "Keys of St. -Peter" will be developed hereafter, it were mere waste of time to -relate it in this place.</p> - -<p class="normal">Some words, sad, but true, may, indeed, be noted.</p> - -<p class="normal">"For our own heart's ease," said Leonardo, "we had better solve all -doubts; but yet what skills it? They can never be happy. Lorenzo's -rash marriage puts an everlasting bar between them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not only solve all doubts, but I will punish the traitor," -said Antonio; "for, if we let him escape he may do more mischief -still. He shall die for his pains, if my own hand does it. But I think -I have a better hold on him than that; I will make him over to a -stronger hand."</p> - -<p class="normal">That day came and went. There was a great banquet at the villa of -Ramiro d'Orco, which passed as such banquets usually do, and was only -marked by one expression of the Countess Visconti when she was led by -Leonora through her own private apartments. She was pleased -particularly with the beautiful saloon, and the sweet retired garden -on the terrace with the steps between.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! what a charming spot to meet a lover!" she said, gazing -laughingly into Leonora's eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I meet no lover here but my own thoughts," replied Leonora; and the -conversation dropped.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next day every one of distinction was invited to the house of the -young countess; and it seemed strange to Leonora to find there several -gentlemen, both French and Italian, arrived that day from Rome. They -were evidently very intimate with the fair Eloise, but she was -somewhat on her guard, and nothing appeared to shock or offend, -although Leonora thought:</p> - -<p class="normal">"If I had a husband, I would not waste so many smiles on other men."</p> - -<p class="normal">Balls, festas, parties of pleasure through the country round succeeded -during the ensuing week, chequered but not saddened by the news that -there had been hard fighting at Forli, where lay the army of the Duke -of Valentinois, assisted by the French under Lorenzo Visconti, and -that the town, besieged by them, still held out. Imola had never seen -such gay doings; and Leonora, at her father's desire, took part in all -the festivities of the time, admired, sought, courted, but apparently -indifferent to all. Strange to say she seemed at once to have won the -regard, if not the affections of Eloise Visconti. When there was no -gay flatterer near her, she must have the society of her beautiful -Leonora; and certainly there was something wonderfully engaging in -Eloise when she chose. There might be something in her manner, even -apart from her demeanour toward men, which created a doubt, a -suspicion in the bosom of a pure-minded woman; but yet it was soon -forgotten in her apparent child-like simplicity.</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonardo da Vinci did not seem to love her; her beauty was not of the -style that pleased him, and when asked to paint her portrait he -declined, alleging that he had undertaken more than he could -accomplish already. His portrait of Leonora made more progress in a -week than any work he had ever undertaken. The head was finished, the -limbs and the drapery sketched out; but when he had arrived at about -the tenth sitting, he requested to have easel and picture both brought -down to the citadel, where a large room was assigned to him. It -fatigued him, he said, to go to the villa every day; and, having -finished the face and head, the few more sittings which were required -could be given him there whenever he found it necessary to ask them. -Leonora willingly consented to come at his call; and for several days -he worked diligently for nearly twelve hours a day, shut up in the -hall where he painted, or in a small room adjoining, where he kept the -implements of his art.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was on Tuesday, the 19th of September, early in the morning, that -Leonora received a brief note from the great painter, loosely -translatable as follows:</p> -<br> - -<p class="normal"><span class="sc">"Most beautiful and excellent Lady</span>,--Though to your perfections my -picture owes an excellence which the painter could never have given -from his mere mind, yet there are wants which time and observation -have enabled me to detect. Come to me, then, if it be possible, at -four this evening, and enable me to supply those graces which had -previously escaped me. Be as beautiful as possible, and, for that -object, as gay. Might I commend to you the depth of two fingers -breadths of that fine old Pulciano wine before you come? It heightened -your colour, I saw, when last you tasted it; and I want a little more -of the red in the cheek."</p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Leonora was punctual to the appointment, and Leonardo, meeting her at -the door of the hall, led her round by the back of the picture to the -small room I have mentioned, saying, "You must not see it now till it -is finished." Then, seating her in a large arm-chair, he stood and -gazed at her for a moment, saying, laughingly, "You must be content to -be stared at, for I wish to take down every shade of expression in the -note-book of my mind, and write it out upon the picture in the other -room." After a few minutes, changing her attitude once or twice, and -changing her hair to suit his fancy, he went out into the hall, and -engaged himself upon the picture.</p> - -<p class="normal">For some five minutes Leonora satin solitude, and all seemed silence -through the citadel. Then came some noise in the courtyard below--the -clatter of horses feet and voices speaking; and then some steps upon -the flight of stairs which led up to the grand apartments of the -castle. All these sounds were so usual, however, that in themselves -they could excite no emotion. But yet Leonora turned somewhat pale. -There was something in the sound of the step of one of those who -mounted the stairs which recalled other days to her mind. It might be -heavier, firmer, less elastic, but yet it was very like Lorenzo's -tread. Who ever forgets the footstep of one we have loved?</p> - -<p class="normal">Before she could consider long, Leonardo da Vinci came back to her, -and seeming to have noticed nothing that went on without, took his -place before her, and gazed at her again. He had nearly closed the -door behind him, but not quite, and the next moment a step was heard -in the adjoining hall, and some one speaking.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is the saloon, my lord," said the voice of Antonio, opening the -door of the hall. "There it stands; and a masterpiece of art it is. I -will now tell the Signor Ramiro that you are here; but I will go -slowly, so you will have time."</p> - -<p class="normal">The well-know step sounded across the marble pavement of the hall, at -first firm and strong, then less regular, then weak and unsteady.</p> - -<p class="normal">Next came a silent pause, and Leonora could hear her heart beat in the -stillness; and then a voice was raised in lamentation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Leonora! Leonora!" it cried, "had you been but as true as you are -beautiful, what misery would you have spared the heart that loved you -as never woman before was loved! Had you but told me to pour out the -last drop of life's blood in my veins at your feet, you had been kind, -not cruel; but you have condemned me to endless tortures for having -loved--nay, for loving you still too well!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonardo da Vinci took Leonora's hand as if he would have led her -towards the door, but she snatched it from him, and covered her eyes, -while her whole frame shook as if with an ague-fit.</p> - -<p class="normal">The speaker in the hall was silent; but then came once more the sound -of steps upon the stairs, and Lorenzo's voice exclaimed, "Oh, God! -have they given me but this short moment?" and his steps could be -heard retreating towards the door. Then the voice of Ramiro d'Orco was -heard saluting him in courteous terms, and the sound died away -altogether.</p> - -<p class="normal">Profound silence reigned in the hall and in the little room adjoining; -but at length Leonora took her hands from her eyes, and said, in a -mournful and reproachful tone, "If you have done this, you have been -very cruel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did it not," answered Leonardo; "but yet I am right glad it has -happened. You accuse him of having been faithless to you, he accuses -you of having been fickle to him. Both have been betrayed, my child. -Both have been true, though both may be wretched."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what matters it to either of us?" said Leonora, almost sternly; -"the time has passed, the die is cast, and there is no retrieving the -fatal throw."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet," said Leonardo da Vinci, "to a fine mind, methinks it must -be a grand and noble satisfaction to discover that one we loved, but -doubted or condemned, had been accused unjustly--that we have not -loved unworthily--that the high qualities, the noble spirit, the -generous, sincere, and tender heart, were not vain dreams of fancy or -affection, but steadfast truths of God's own handiwork, which we had -reverenced and loved as the finest gifts of the Almighty Benefactor. -You may not feel this now, Leonora, in the bitterness of -disappointment, but the time will come when such thoughts will be -comfort and consolation to you--when you will glory and feel pride in -having loved and been loved by such a man."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora snatched his hand and kissed it warmly. "Thank you," she said, -"thank you. To-night or to-morrow I shall have to meet him in public, -and your words will give me strength. Now that I know him worthy as I -once thought him, I shall glory in his renown, as you have well said; -for my Lorenzo's spirit, I feel, is married to mine, though our hands -must be for ever disunited. Farewell, my friend, farewell. I will no -longer regret this accident; it has had its bitter, but it has its -sweet also;" and, clasping her hands together, she exclaimed almost -wildly, "Oh, yes, I am loved, I am loved--still loved!"</p> - -<p class="normal">She arose from her chair as if to go, but then, catching hold of the -tall back, she said, "Let me crave you, Signor Leonardo, bid some of -the attendants order my jennet round to the back of the palace. I am -wonderfully weak, and I fear my feet would hardly carry me in search -of them myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go with you to the villa," said Leonardo. "My horse is here -below. Sit you still in that chair till I return, and meditate strong -thoughts, not weak ones. Pause not on tender recollections, but -revolve high designs, and your mind will recover strength, and your -body through your mind."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">On what a miserable thing it must be to return to a home, and -to find -that the heart has none, the fond, true welcome wanting--the welcome -of the soul, not the lips. Oh, where is the glad smile! where the -cordial greeting! where the abandonment of everything else in the joy -of seeing the loved one return! Where, Lorenzo?--where?</p> - -<p class="normal">'Tis bad enough when we find petty cares and small annoyances thrust -upon us the moment our foot passes the threshold--to know that we have -been waited for to set right some trivial wrong, to mend some minute -evil, to hear some small complaint--when we have been flying from -anxieties and labours, and thirsting for repose and love, to find that -the black care, which ever rides behind the horseman, has seated -himself at our fireside before we could pull off our boots. 'Tis bad -enough--that is bad enough.</p> - -<p class="normal">But to return to that which ought to be our home, and find every -express wish neglected, every warning slighted, every care frustrated, -and all we have condemned or forbidden, done--that must be painful -indeed!</p> - -<p class="normal">The arrival of Lorenzo Visconti in Imola was unexpected; and his short -stay with Ramiro d'Orco but served to carry the news to the gay -palazzo inhabited by his wife, and create some confusion there. True, -when he entered the wide saloons, where she was surrounded by her own -admiring crowd, Eloise rose and advanced to meet him, with alight, -careless air of independence, saying, "Why, my good lord, you have -taken us by surprise. We thought you still at the siege of Forli."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Forli has capitulated, madame," replied Lorenzo, gazing round, and -seeing all those whom he wished not to see. "It was too wise to be -taken by surprise. But I am dusty with riding--tired too. I will -retire, take some repose, and change my apparel."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left the room. Eloise made no pretence of following -him; and, as he closed the door, he could hear her light laugh at a -jest--perhaps at himself--from some of her gay attendants.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh, how his heart sickened as, led by Antonio, he trod the way to the -apartments of his wife!</p> - -<p class="normal">"Leave me, Antonio," he said, "and return in an hour. There, busy not -yourself with the apparel. Heaven knows whether I shall want it. Leave -me, I say!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"When you have leisure, my lord, I would fain speak a word or two in -your private ear," said Antonio; "you rode so fast upon the road I -could not give you some information I have obtained."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Regarding whom?" asked Lorenzo, with a frowning brow; "your lady?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my lord, regarding the Signora d'Orco," replied the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Lorenzo merely waved his hand for him to depart; and when he was -gone, pressed his hands upon his burning temples, and sat gazing on -the ground. His head swam; his heart ached; his mind was irresolute. -In his own soul he compared Leonora d'Orco with Eloise de Chaumont. He -asked himself if, fickle as she had shown herself to be, Leonora, once -his wife, would have received him so on his return from labour and -dangers.</p> - -<p class="normal">He remembered the days of old, and answered the question readily. But -then he turned to bitterer and more terrible inquiries. Was his wife -faithful to him? or was he but the butt and ridicule of those whom, -contrary to his plainest injunctions, she had brought from Rome?</p> - -<p class="normal">He was of no jealous disposition. By nature he was frank and -confiding; but her conduct had been such--was such, that those -comments, so hard to bear--those suspicions, that sting more terribly -than scorpions, had been busy round his ears even at the court of -France.</p> - -<p class="normal">In vain he had remonstrated, in vain had he used authority. He found -her now, as he had left her in Rome, lighter than vanity itself. That -accident, propinquity, and some interest in the accident she had -brought upon him, with the vanity of winning one who had been -considered cold and immovable, had induced her to give him what little -love she could bestow on any one, and confirm it with her hand, he had -long known. Long, too, had he repented of his rash marriage; but that -carelessness of all things, that weariness of the world, that longing -for repose, even were it the repose of the grave, which Leonora's -fancied fickleness had brought upon him, had not been removed by his -union with Eloise de Chaumont. A thousand evils had been added--evils -the more terrible to a proud, high mind. He had never expected much; -but he had believed Eloise innocent, though thoughtless; tender and -affectionate, though light. But he had not found the tenderness after -the ring was on her finger; and the very semblance of affection had -soon died away.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What was there on earth worth living for?" he asked himself; "what -was there to compensate the pangs he endured--the burthen he bore. -Nothing--nothing. Life was only not a blank because it was full of -miseries."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus he sat, with a wrung heart and whirling brain, for nearly half an -hour. At length he took a picture from his bosom--one of those small -gems of art which the great painters of that and the preceding age -sometimes took a pride in producing--and gazed upon it earnestly. It -was the portrait of a very beautiful woman (his own mother), which the -reader has seen him receive from Milan. He thought it like Leonora -d'Orco; but oh! that mother was faithful and true unto the death. She -had defended her own honour, she had protected herself from shame, she -had escaped the power of a tyrant, by preferring the grave to -pollution.</p> - -<p class="normal">He turned to the back of the picture, now repaired, and read the -inscription on it, "A cure for the ills of life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And why not my cure?" asked Lorenzo of his own heart; "why should I -not pass from misery and shame even as my mother did?"</p> - -<p class="normal">He pressed the spring, and the lid flew open. There were the fatal -powders beneath, all ready to his hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was seated in his wife's room, and among many an article of costly -luxury on the table were a small silver cup and water-pitcher. Lorenzo -stretched out his hand to take the cup, laying the portrait with the -powders down while he half filled the cup with water. But, ere he -could take a powder from the case, Antonio re-entered.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The hour has passed, my lord, and I do hope you will now hear me," he -said. "I have to tell you that which, perhaps, may be of little -comfort, but is yet important for you to know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Speak on, my good Antonio," said Lorenzo, in a gentler tone than he -had lately used; for the thoughts of death were still upon him, and to -the wretched there is gentleness in the thoughts of death. "What is it -you would say? I am in no haste;" and he set down the cup upon the -table by the picture.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, we have been all terribly deceived," said Antonio; "you, I, -the Signora Leonora--all. While you have thought her false and fickle, -she has believed you the same."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Antonio!" exclaimed his lord, in a reproachful tone, "Antonio, -forbear. Try not to deceive me by fictions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, I stake my life upon the truth of what I say," replied -Antonio. "I have seen a maid whom she hired in Florence after the rest -had left her--those who were carried away from the Villa Morelli, and -never heard of more. I had my suspicions; and, after having won her -good graces, I questioned the girl closely. Signora d'Orco wrote to -you often--sent letters by any courier that was going to France--wept -at your silence--pined, and nearly died."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I wrote often," said Lorenzo.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your letters never reached her, nor hers you," replied the man; "by a -base trick----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But her handwriting!" exclaimed Lorenzo, "her own handwriting! I saw -it--read it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not what that handwriting implied, my lord," was the answer; -"but perhaps, if you were to examine it closely, you might find either -that it was not hers, or that, thinking you false and forsworn, she -wrote in anger, as you have spoken and thought of her."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo meditated deeply, and then murmured, "It may be so. O God! if -this be true!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is true, my lord, by my salvation," replied Antonio; "I have the -whole clue in my hands. The Signor Leonardo da Vinci, too, knows all, -and can satisfy you better than I can."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is he here?" asked Lorenzo, in a tone of melancholy interest, -remembering the happy house at Belgiojosa. "If he be convinced, there -must be some truth in it. But tell me, Antonio, what fiend has done -this? It cannot surely be Ramiro d'Orco?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh no," replied the man; "but ask me no more, my lord, at present. -See the Signor Leonardo. He and I have worked together to discover -all, and he will tell you all. Well may you call the man a friend; but -I am on his traces, like a staghound, and I will have my fangs in his -flanks ere long. Let the maestro tell you, however. I only wished to -let you know the truth, as the Signora Leonora is even now with her -father below, and you must meet her presently. You could not meet the -faithless as the faithful; and she is true to you, my lord--has been -ever true."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo started up. "Leonora here!" he exclaimed; "I must see her---I -will see her. Where leads that door, Antonio?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To the room reserved for your lordship's toilet," replied the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quick! send my varlets up," cried the master; "I will but shake off -this dust and go down."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Better appear as becomes you, my noble lord," replied Antonio; "there -is a splendid company below--indeed, there always is when the countess -receives her guests. Your apparel is all put forth and ready. To dress -will but take you a few minutes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, be it so," said Lorenzo; "bring me those lights, my good -Antonio;" and he walked straight to the door of the dressing-room, -leaving his mother's portrait and the poison on the table. He -remembered it once while going down the stairs after dressing, -but there was too much eagerness in his heart for him to return -to take it then, and from that moment events and--more engrossing -still--feelings hurried on so rapidly, he forgot entirely his purpose -of going back for the portrait at an after period.</p> - -<p class="normal">The entrance of the young prefect into his wife's splendid saloons -caused no slight movement among the many guests there present. His -noble and dignified carriage, the strange air of command in one so -young--an air of command obtained as much by sorrows endured, -and a manly struggle against despair, as by the habit of -authority--impressed all the strangers in the room with a feeling -going somewhat beyond mere respect. But there was one there present -whose feelings cannot be described. He was to her, as it were, a -double being--the Lorenzo of the past, the Lorenzo of the present. The -change in personal appearance was very slight, though the youth had -become the man. The dark, brown curling beard, the greater breadth of -the shoulders, the powerful development of every limb, and perhaps -some increase of height, formed the only material change, while -the grace as well as the dignity was still there. In the ideal -Lorenzo--the Lorenzo of her imagination--the change was, of course, -greater to the eyes of Leonora. He was no longer her own--he was no -longer her lover--he was the husband of another--there was an -impassable barrier between them; but that day had diminished the -difference. She now knew that he was as noble as ever, that he had not -been untrue to her without cause, that he had loved her faithfully, -painfully, sorrowfully (she dared not let her mind dwell on the -thought that he loved her still); and there was a sort of a tie -between her heart and his, between the present and the past, produced -by undeserved grief mutually endured.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh! how she longed to tell him that she had never been faithless to -him--that she had loved him ever! Again, she did not dare to admit -that she loved him still.</p> - -<p class="normal">Yet she commanded herself wonderfully. She had come prepared; and she -had long obtained the power of concealing her emotions. That she felt -and suffered was only known to one in the whole room. She clung more -tightly to her father's arm, her fingers pressed more firmly on it; -and Ramiro d'Orco felt all she endured, and imagined more. He said not -a word indeed to comfort or console her, but there were words spoken -in his own heart which would have had a very different effect if they -had found breath.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The day of vengeance is coming," he thought--"is coming fast;" but -his aspect betrayed no emotion.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo took his way straight to where the Lord of Imola and his -daughter stood, close by the side of his own wife; and Eloise laughed -with a gay, careless laugh, as she saw the sparkle in her husband's -eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is my friend, the Signora d'Orco," she said; but Lorenzo took -Leonora's hand at once, saying, "I have long had the happiness of -knowing her;" and he added (aloud, though in a somewhat sad and -softened tone) words which had only significance for her; they were: -"I have known her long, though not as well as I should have known -her."</p> - -<p class="normal">He stood and spoke with Leonora herself for some moments. He referred -no farther to the past, for the icy touch of her hand on that warm -night told him plainly enough that she was agitated as far as she -could endure, and he strove to diminish that agitation rather than -increase it.</p> - -<p class="normal">He then turned to Ramiro d'Orco, saying, "My Lord of Imola, I will -beseech you to go with me through the rooms, and introduce me to the -noble gentlemen and ladies of your city."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ramiro d'Orco was all graciousness, and led him from one to another, -while Eloise with some malice, whispered in Leonora's ear:</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is marvellously handsome, is he not? When you were standing -together the Count do Rouvri whispered me that you were the two most -beautiful personages in Italy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is a poor judge and a poor courtier," replied Leonora; and the -conversation dropped.</p> - -<p class="normal">She had now fully recovered her composure, and she thanked God that -the trying moment was over. Numbers flocked round her, gay words and -pleasant devices passed, and all that fine wit for which the Italians -were famous, displayed itself. Nor did Leonora do her part amiss, -although it must be owned her thoughts sometimes wandered, and her -words were once or twice somewhat wide of the mark.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the prefect and Ramiro d'Orco returned, and then began -arrangements for the following day. It seemed understood that on -alternate nights the Lord of Imola and the lady of the prefect should -entertain the nobility of the city and the district round, and their -meeting for the following evening had been fixed for rather an early -hour at the villa on the hill, before Lorenzo's unexpected arrival at -Imola. Eloise, however, who was not without her caprices, thought fit -to change the arrangement, declared that she was weary of so much -gaiety, felt herself somewhat indisposed, and would prefer a day of -rest, if it were not inconvenient to the Signor d'Orco to postpone his -festa till the following day.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ramiro d'Orco declared that, on the contrary, the change would be -convenient to him, for that he was bound to go, either on the morrow -or the day after, to hold a court of high justiciary at a small town -just within his vicariate, and that he could not return the same -night.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will set out to-morrow, my lord," he said, "and shall be back early -on the following day. In the mean time, I must leave my daughter here -to do the honours of the city to you and your fair lady; and if she -fails in any point, she shall be well rated at my return."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he and Leonora took their leave; but the festivities in -Lorenzo's house continued long. He himself was present to the last, -although his presence certainly did not throw much gaiety upon the -scene. To the citizens of Imola he was attentive and courteous, but to -the crowd of butterflies who had followed Eloise from Rome, without -being repulsive, he was cold and distant. When the last guest was -gone, he and his wife took their several ways, she to her chamber, he -to his dressing-room; and, long after she had retired to rest, she -heard her husband's voice conversing eagerly with Antonio.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Talking over my foibles, I suppose," said Eloise to herself; "I wish -I could hear what they say;" and she raised herself up in bed to go -towards the door, but she felt weary, and her natural indifference got -the better of her curiosity. She sank back upon her pillow, and soon -was buried in sleep.</p> - -<p class="normal">The conversation of which she had heard the murmur had no reference to -herself. Lorenzo questioned his humble friend in regard to the facts -he had mentioned in the earlier part of the evening, and many -and varied were the feelings which the intelligence he received -produced--deep and bitter regret, some self-reproval, and a sensation -which would have resembled despair had not a sort of dreamy, moonlight -joy, to know that he had been still beloved, pervaded all his thoughts -with a cold but soothing light. He sought to know on whom the -suspicions of Antonio and Leonardo fixed as the agent of all his -misery, but the good man refused to satisfy him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Leave him to me, my lord," he said; "I have means of dealing with him -which you have not. I will only beseech you tell me how long the great -Duke of Valentinois remains at Forli, and to give me leave to absent -myself for a day or two at any time I may think fit."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that you have, of course," replied Lorenzo. "Did I ever restrain -you, Antonio? As to Borgia, he will most probably remain a month at -Forli. I left him as soon as the place capitulated; for I love him -not, although my good cousin, King Louis, is so fond of him. Well, -policy, like necessity, too often brings the base and the noble -together. But, as the capitulation imported that the town would -surrender, if not relieved, in three days, and I know that De Vitry is -on his march with three thousand men, which will render relief -impossible, I thought I might very well leave this good lord duke to -watch the city by himself. He is an extraordinary, a great, and a -mighty man, but as bad a man as ever the world produced--unless it be -his father."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That will do right well," replied Antonio; "I neither love him nor -hate him, for my part, but I must use him for my purposes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He generally uses other men for his," answered his lord, with a -doubtful look.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Great stones are moved by great levers," said Antonio; "and I have -got the lever in my hands, my lord, with which I can move this mighty -man to do well-nigh what I wish. I will set out to-morrow evening, I -think, and ride by night---no, it must be on the following day. There -is a game playing even now upon which I must have my eye. In the mean -time, your lordship had better see the Signor Leonardo; he will tell -you much; and if there be a lingering doubt, as there well may be, -that your poor servant has ascertained the facts he states beyond a -doubt, the maestro will confirm all I have said."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Antonio," said Lorenzo, giving him his hand, "if ever there was a man -who faithfully loved and served another, so you have loved and served -me. But love and service are sometimes blind and dull. Not such have -been yours. Where I have wanted wisdom, perception, or discretion, you -have furnished them to me; and of all the many benefits conferred on -me by Lorenzo de Medici, his placing you near me was the greatest. -Power, and wealth, and authority are often irritable, and sometimes -unjust. If I have ever shown myself so to you, Antonio, forgive me for -it; but never believe that, knowing you as I know you, I ever doubt -your truth."</p> - -<p class="normal">Antonio made no reply, but kissed his lord's hand, as was the custom -in those reverent ages, and left him with a swimming eye.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo cast from him the gorgeous dress at that time common in Italy, -the gorgeous chain of gold, the knightly order of St. Michael, the -surcoat of brown and gold, the vest and haut-de-chaussée of white -satin and silver, and, after plunging his burning head several times -in water, cast on a loose dressing-gown, and seating himself in a wide -easy-chair, endeavoured to sleep. The day had been one of fatigue and -excitement. Neither mind nor body had enjoyed any repose, but sleep -was long a stranger to his eyelids. At length she came, fanning his -senses with her downy wings, but only as a vampire, to wound his -heart while she seemed to soothe. He dreamed of Eloise. He saw her -dying by the dagger-blow of a hand issuing from a cloud. All was -forgotten--indignation, anger, shame, I may say contempt. She was his -wife, the wife of his bosom, the wife plighted to him by the solemn -vow of the altar. He seized the visionary hand, uplifted for a second -blow, and pushed it back, exclaiming, "No, no, strike me! If any one -must die, strike me!" and then he woke.</p> - -<p class="normal">The lights which he had left burning were nearly in the sockets. The -first blue gleam of morning was seen through the windows; and Lorenzo, -dressing himself quietly in his ordinary garments, descended to the -court-yard, endeavouring to forget the troublous visions of the night.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Under a wide-spreading and drooping fig-tree in the lower part -of the -gardens of the villa on the hill was seated a man who kept his eyes -steadily fixed upon a certain spot at the end of the terrace far -above. The distance in a direct line to the object toward which his -eyes were turned was some two hundred and fifty yards; it might be a -little more, but at all events, he could see distinctly all that -passed above.</p> - -<p class="normal">At first it seemed as if there was but little to be seen. A -lady was seated, reading, in a small plot or garden, close by a -highly-ornamented doorway which led into the interior of the villa. It -was in an angle of the building, where a large mass of architecture -protruded beyond the general façade. Thus, when the sun was in the -west, a deeper shade was cast there than upon any other point of the -terrace. It was, perhaps, that the sun had nearly reached the horizon, -and that the shades of night were coming fast, which caused the lady -to lay the manuscript book upon her knee, and, looking up to the sky, -seem to contemplate a flight of tinted clouds, which looked like the -leaves of a shedding rose blown over a garden by the rifling wind.</p> - -<p class="normal">But hark! what is that sound that strikes his ear? the fast footfalls -of horses coming along the road beneath the stone walls of the garden. -They pause close by him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here! hold the horse, and wait till I return," said a voice, and the -next moment a cavalier vaulted over the wall, and stood within twenty -yards of where the watcher sat.</p> - -<p class="normal">For a moment the stranger seemed uncertain which way to turn, but then -he forced his way through the vines to a path which led up to the main -entrance of the villa on the terrace. He looked up and around from -time to time as he ascended; but suddenly an object seemed to meet his -eyes to the right, and, striking away from the path, he took a course -direct toward it, regardless of any obstacle. The watcher kept his eye -upon him while he climbed the hill, mounted the steps of the terrace, -and stood by the lady's side.</p> - -<p class="normal">Who can tell what words were spoken? Who can tell what feelings were -expressed! Who can tell what memories were re-awakened? Who can tell -what passions had power in that hour?</p> - -<p class="normal">The watcher saw him stand beside her talking for several minutes, then -cast himself down on the ground by her side. A moment after, his arm -glided round her; and one could almost fancy that wafted on the air -came the words, "One--one kiss before we part."</p> - -<p class="normal">Their lips evidently met, and God forgive them if it was a sin! The -next instant Leonora rose from her seat, and, hand in hand, they -entered the building by the door which led to her own saloon.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! ha!" said the watcher, with a bitter laugh. But two minutes had -not elapsed before lights flashed from the windows of that very room, -and the shadows of three figures passed across.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What means this?" said the man who sat beneath the fig-tree; and, -creeping forth from his concealment, he stole up the hill. He reached -the terrace at some distance from the little garden, and then walked -along in the direction of the spot where he had seen Lorenzo and -Leonora. His sandalled foot made very little noise; and he kept so -close to the building that his gown brushed against the stone-work. -When he reached the first window of Leonora's saloon, he paused for an -instant, and by an effort--for he was short of stature--raised himself -sufficiently to look in. It was enough. Seated side by side were those -whom the Count de Rouvri had well termed the two most beautiful -persons in Italy. But at the farther side of the saloon was one of -Leonora's maids busily plying the needle.</p> - -<p class="normal">Had Eve refused to taste the forbidden fruit in Eden, Satan could -hardly have felt more rancorous disappointment than that friar -experienced at what he saw.</p> - -<p class="normal">That night passed, and the following day; but when evening came, the -villa on the hill blazed with lights; the gardens were illuminated, -and gay groups were seen in the long saloons and on the terrace, and -in many a part of the gardens. Many a tale of love was told that -night, and many a whispered word was spoken that decided fates for -ever. There was much pleasure, much joy, some happiness; but there -were pains and heartburning also.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was toward the end of the entertainment that Eloise, passing along -with the young Marquis de Vibraye at her side, came suddenly upon her -husband leaning against one of the pillars of the door which led out -upon the terrace. De Vibraye was one of those peculiarly obnoxious to -Lorenzo, for there was a braggart spirit in him which sported with -woman's fame in the society of men with little heed of truth or -probability. There was a look of triumph on his face as he passed -Lorenzo with hardly an inclination of the head. But he went not far; -for his foot was not on the terrace ere Lorenzo's hand was on his -shoulder.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A word with you, seigneur," said the young prefect, and drew him to -some distance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, my lord," said De Vibraye, with a cheek somewhat pale, "what do -you want with me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But little," replied Lorenzo. "I gave you a sufficient hint in Rome -that your society was not desired within my doors. I find you here. If -you are in Imola to-morrow at noon, I will out off your ears, and turn -you out of the gates as a worthless cur. You had better go while you -are safe."</p> - -<p class="normal">He waited no answer, but returned to the side of his wife, who greeted -him in a fretful tone, saying--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, this is courteous in you two gentlemen to leave me standing -here alone like a chambermaid!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Madame, you shall be alone no longer," answered Lorenzo, drawing her -arm through his, and leading her back into the great saloon.</p> - -<p class="normal">She did not venture to resist, for he spoke in a tone she had heard -once before, and she knew that when he used it he would bear no -opposition. But a few minutes after, a cry ran through the rooms that -the Countess Visconti had fainted.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bear her to my daughter's saloon!" cried Ramiro d'Orco, as Lorenzo -caught up Eloise in his arms; "bear her to my daughter's saloon! She -will soon recover. Here, follow me--make way, gentlemen! All the lady -requires is cooler air; the rooms are too crowded."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This way, Signor Visconti," said Leonora; and in a few moments Eloise -was laid upon a couch, and the door closed to prevent the intrusion of -the crowd.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was very like death; and Lorenzo and Leonora looked upon her with -strange and mingled sensations. There lay the only obstacle to their -happiness, pale and ashy as a faded flower. Seldom has the slumber of -the grave been better mocked; and yet the sight had a saddening and -heart-purifying effect on both. So young--so beautiful--so sweet and -innocent-looking in that still sleep! They could not, they did not -wish that so bright a link in the chain which bound both to the pillar -of an evil destiny should be rudely severed. The maids who had been -called tried in vain to bring her back to consciousness; and Ramiro -d'Orco, who had been gazing too with sensations differing from any in -the breasts of those around him, called the girls aside, and bade them -seek the friar.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is skilled in medicinal arts," he said; "fetch him instantly."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora pointed to the inanimate form of her lover's wife, and said in -a low tone--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Look there, Lorenzo! Is it not sad? There is but one thing to be -done. I will take refuge in a convent, lest evil dreams should come -into our hearts."</p> - -<p class="normal">"O forbear! forbear yet awhile!" said Lorenzo; but, ere he could add -more, Ramiro d'Orco had returned to their side; and a few minutes -after, Friar Peter was in the room. He approached the couch with a -quiet, stealthy step, gazed on the face of Eloise, laid his hand upon -the pulse, and, taking a cup of water from one of the maids, dropped -some pale fluid into it from a phial, and, raising the head of his -patient, poured it into her mouth.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She will revive in a moment," he said; "that is a sovereign cure for -such affections of this bodily frame. Oppression of the spirit may be -harder to reach, and, I should think, in this case there is something -weighing heavy on the heart or mind."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo kept silence, though he thought that the friar had perhaps -divined aright.</p> - -<p class="normal">At all events, his remedy, whatever it was, proved effectual. After -about a minute, Eloise opened her eyes, and looked around her faintly. -"Where am I?" she said. "Oh, is that you, Leonora?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"How are you, madame," said Ramiro d'Orco; "you have swooned from the -crowded rooms and overheated air. I trust you will be quite well -shortly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am better," she said, "much better, but very weak; I would fain go -home. Let some one bring my litter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go with you," said Lorenzo. "I beseech you, signor, have my -horses ordered. But, ere we go, I must thank this good friar for his -most serviceable aid. That for your convent, father," he said, drawing -him aside and giving him money. "I thank you for your skilful tendance -on my wife; but I think that perhaps your counsels might, as you -hinted even now, be as good for her mental condition as your drugs -have been for her bodily health. I will pray you, therefore, good -father, visit her tomorrow towards noon. You can explain your coming -as a visit to a patient rather than a penitent; but if you can inspire -her with somewhat more careful thought regarding her demeanour in the -world, you will do well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But the lady knows not yet that I tended on her," said Mardocchi; -"let me speak with her again before she goes."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then approached the side of Eloise, and once more laid his fingers -on her pulse.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not quite recovered yet," he said, with a grave air; "give me some -water. A few more drops will, I trust, complete the cure, daughter;" -and he took the phial from his gown.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not here, friar--not here!" whispered Ramiro d'Orco.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Mardocchi put him back with his hand, dropped out some more of the -liquid, and gave it to Eloise, saying:</p> - -<p class="normal">"This will restore you perfectly for to-night. To-morrow I will see -you again, to know how you are then."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was on the following day toward noon that Friar Peter entered the -Episcopal Square, and approached the palace which had been hired for -Lorenzo Visconti. He walked with downcast eyes and a thoughtful look, -but none of the townspeople who passed him attributed any very high or -holy meditations to the friar; for the Italians, especially of the -lower class, are the most clear-sighted persons in the world into the -depths of human character. "What is he calculating?" they thought; -"what is he scheming now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">With a quiet, almost noiseless step, he approached the wide gates of -the palazzo, and asked for the signora.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is in the hall above with some French cavaliers, father," replied -the janitore; "you can go up."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would rather see her alone," answered the friar; "I attended upon -her last night when she fainted at the Villa Ramiro, and wish to speak -to her about her health. Can you not call her out of the hall for a -moment?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The porter led him to the door of the hall, and, leaving him there, -entered alone. He was gone but a moment, and then returning, led the -friar up another flight of stairs to Eloise's chamber, where he left -him, saying that his lady would be up in a few minutes.</p> - -<p class="normal">He closed the door when he departed, and Mardocchi gazed around him -with no small curiosity and interest. There were many ornaments -scattered round the room--little works of art, beautiful trifles and -invaluable gems. Mardocchi remarked all, examined all, and handled not -a few. Among the rest he took up the small picture of Lorenzo's -mother, which the young prefect had left there on the night of his -arrival. He gazed at the face for a moment or two, seeming to have -some faint remembrance of the features, and then examined the case -with some curiosity. He was not long in discovering the spring by -which the back opened, and the powders and inscription were exposed to -view.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A cure for the ills of life!" he said: and then, as if something -which required thought suddenly struck him, he seated himself, and -with his eyes fixed upon the case, fell into profound meditation.</p> - -<p class="normal">The reader will remember that there was a smaller chamber next to that -of Eloise; and a door of communication between the two. As the friar -sat there thinking, that door moved slightly on its hinges, and a -chink appeared through which one might have passed a Spanish crown -piece,--no larger.</p> - -<p class="normal">A few minutes after, the countess entered. Mardocchi had the picture -with the case still open in his hand; but he laid it not down as might -have been expected. On the contrary, he rose from his seat, and, -bowing his head, said, with a humble air:</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have committed a great indiscretion, Madonna, I took up this -beautiful portrait to look at it, when suddenly, I know not how, it -came open as you see."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! that is the picture of my husband's mother," said Eloise -carelessly; "I found it here two or three days ago. I cannot tell how -it came here, for he carries it usually in his bosom. But what is that -little box behind? I was puzzling over these powders and the -inscription only yesterday, but could make nothing of them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let me see," said Mardocchi, carrying the case to the window, as if -for a better light.</p> - -<p class="normal">He remained for a moment or two with his back to the lady, apparently -examining the powders, and then brought the case back, saying:</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are apparently love powders."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I will take one of them," said Eloise, laughing; "I am sure I -need them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"For Heaven's sake, forbear, Madonna," said Mardocchi; "I don't, know -what they are--I only guess. God help us! they may contain poison, in -this wicked age."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, I will put the case back in his dressing-room," said -Eloise; but the friar stayed her, saying, "Better leave them where he -left them, my daughter. I have but a few moments to stay, and I wish -to inquire after your health.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! my health in excellent, good father," replied the lady, lightly, -"thanks to your skill; I believe it never was better."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Permit me to feel your pulse, Madonna," said Mardocchi. "Let me see. -This is the ninth day of the moon; and, from the eighth to the -fourteenth, some mild and calming remedies are useful. Your pulse is -somewhat agitated."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well it may be," said Eloise; "my husband is in a mighty sweet -humour, father. He takes offence at the slightest trifles; and, on my -life, if I did not know him noble at heart, I should think, as you -said, that these papers contained poisons, and that he had left them -here that I might try their virtues myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That were easily tested," said Mardocchi, with an eager look. "Give -one of them to some of your maids; bid them put it in a piece of meat, -and throw it to a dog. If they be venomous, the venom will soon do its -work. Here, give her this one at the top;" and, taking one of the -powders out of the case, he laid it down on the table.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And, now again, Madonna, as to your health," continued Mardocchi; -"you are not so well as you think yourself. A malady affects you -proceeding from some shock to the spirits, which will return at -intervals of sixteen hours, unless you do something to arrest its -course. It may be very violent indeed, and attended with sore pains -and terrible suffering; but I can prevent its having any fatal effect. -Let me calculate. Last night you had the first slight attack at about -ten o'clock; a stronger one will seize you at two to-day. It is now -too late to avert it entirely; but if in an hour's time, you will take -this powder which I now give you--mind! do not confound it with the -other, which is to be tried upon the dog--you will find the paroxysms -much mitigated. Do not be alarmed, though you may suffer much, for at -the moment when the convulsion seems most strong, it will suddenly -cease, and you will sleep quietly."</p> - -<p class="normal">Eloise gazed at him with surprise and even alarm.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I feel quite well," she thought; "what can this mean? And yet I felt -quite well five minutes before I fainted last night. Well, the monk -soon cured me then, and I will follow his counsel now. In an hour, -father, did you say?" she asked aloud.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, in an hour," replied the friar; "that will just give me time to -try one of those other powders on a dog. I shall like to hear the -result, and will see you again to-morrow, when I trust I shall find -this malady is quite vanquished. You then can tell whether those in -the case are safe. They are probably very idle drugs."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will have them tried, good father," replied Eloise; "and now -farewell."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Shall I send one of your women to you, Madonna?" asked the friar; and -then he added with apparently a sudden change of thought, "It may be -as well not to say how you came by the powders, or why you wish this -trial made. It might lead to injurious suspicious."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True--true," said Eloise, in an absent tone. "I will say nothing. -Send one of them here. You will find them in the end room of the -suite. Farewell."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mardocchi left her, and speedily found the chamber where her women -were at work. His quick eye glanced over them, and fixed upon one he -thought suited to his purpose.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I wish to speak to you, signora," he said, beckoning her into the -corridor; and when she laid down her work and followed him, he added -in a low tone, "The countess wants you in her chamber. She may say -little to you in her present mood, and therefore I wish to warn you to -be careful what you do. Her husband has left her some powders to take. -She is doubtful of what they are, and wishes to have one of them tried -upon a dog before she swallows them. Give it in some meat, and don't -lose sight of the animal till you see the effect. Then return to your -lady, and tell her what you have seen. But talk with her as little as -possible, for she is unwell."</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meanwhile, Eloise sat alone in somewhat sad and solemn -meditations. If there be sympathies between the beings of this mortal -world and those unclogged with clay--if there be warnings conveyed -without voice, or impulses given from a higher sphere, it is natural -to suppose that they are more clearly heard, more keenly felt, when we -are approaching near the world from which they come. Eloise was very -sad--the lightness of her character was gone. She was serious now for -once, and thoughts unwonted, undesired, had full possession of her.</p> - -<p class="normal">Who is there that can review even a few years of his past life without -finding many things to regret? And oh! what a sad retrospect did the -last two years afford to Eloise Visconti! How many an act worthy of -penitence, if not remorse--how many a blessing cast away--how many an -opportunity neglected!</p> - -<p class="normal">She tried to shake off that painful, self-reproachful mood; but it -clung to her; and when the woman entered, she hardly saw her.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What are your commands, Madonna?" asked the girl.</p> - -<p class="normal">Eloise started, and then, taking one of two small packets which -lay at some distance from each other on the table, she held it out, -saying--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Put that in a piece of meat, and give it to one of the dogs. Come -back and tell me if it lives or dies."</p> - -<p class="normal">The girl took the paper and departed, but not without remarking that -there was another packet of much the same shape and size upon the -table.</p> - -<p class="normal">Eloise fell into thought again, and was soon as completely absorbed in -meditation as ever. She knew not how long the girl was absent; but at -length she returned, saying, with a look of some consternation--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Madam, the poor dog fell into great agonies and died in about three -minutes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" said the young countess; "thank God! I now know what they are."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank God too, Madonna," answered the girl; "how can any one be so -cruel?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Cruel or kind, as the case may be, Giovanetta," replied her mistress, -"when life is a burden, he is kind who takes it off our shoulders."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But oh! Madonna, for a husband to----!" said the girl.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Eloise waved her away, saying, "Go, girl, go; you know not what -you talk of. Leave me!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The girl went unwillingly, for she liked not the change from -light-hearted mirth to stern sadness in her gay mistress; and she -would fain have taken the other powder with her, but she dared not -disobey.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What means this deep gloom that is upon me?" said Eloise to herself, -as soon as the girl was gone. "It must be the approach of the attack -the friar mentioned. It is time to take the medicine--nay, more than -time, I fear. I will swallow it at once, though I love not drugs. This -at least has life in it--not death;" and, with that conviction, she -mixed the powder Mardocchi had left with some water, and drank it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is very sweet," she said, "but it burns my throat;" and, seating -herself, she took up a book of prayers and began to read.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ten minutes after the silver bell rang violently once and again, for -the maids heard not the first summons. At the second, Giovenetta -started up and ran to the chamber of her mistress; but, as she -approached, she heard the sound of a heavy fall, and when the door was -opened, she and another who followed found Eloise upon the floor in -strong convulsions.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, she is poisoned!" cried Giovanetta, wringing her hands.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My husband! my husband!" murmured Eloise, with a terrible effort: "my -husband; tell him I never sinned against him as he thought--tell him I -have been faithful to him--oh, girls, raise me up! I am choked--I -cannot breathe."</p> - -<p class="normal">They raised her and laid her on her bed, and for a moment or two she -seemed relieved; but then a still more terrible paroxysm succeeded, -and, ere any assistance could be sought, the light, thoughtless spirit -passed away to seek mercy at the throne of God.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">In the court-yard of the castle of Imola were many horses and -attendants, and in the great hall various personages of high and low -degree. A scene very frequent in ancient and modern time, and which -never loses its terrors, was there going on. It was the trial of a man -accused of a capital offence. The Lord of Imola, possessing, as he had -stipulated, what was then called high and low justice, sat upon the -raised seat at the end of the hall, and by his side appeared the young -Prefect of Romagna, whom he had asked to assist him by his advice in a -case which seemed to present some difficulties. The hour was about -twenty minutes after noon, and the testimony had all been taken.</p> - -<p class="normal">Before the tribunal stood a man, between two guards, of some forty -years of age, and of a ferocious aspect. But his cheek was pale, and -his eye dim with fear; for he had heard it distinctly proved that he -had been taken in the act of a coldblooded brutal assassination of a -young girl.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I refuse this tribunal," he cried, hoarsely. "I do not acknowledge -the power of this court. I am of noble blood, as every one here knows; -and you have no authority to sentence me, Ramiro d'Orco."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What say you, my lord prefect?" asked Ramiro, in his cold, quiet -tones. "I leave you to pass sentence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can but give an opinion, my lord," replied Lorenzo; "I presume to -pass no sentence within your vicariate. You have, I know, power of -high justice; therefore his claim of nobility in your court can avail -him nothing, except in giving him the right to the axe rather than the -cord. His guilt is clear. His sentence must, I presume, be death."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will order him at once to the block," said Ramiro, sternly.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Lorenzo interposed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, give him time," he said; "I beseech you give him time. Death is -a terrible thing to all men, even to those who have lived the purest -lives; but, from what we have heard, this unhappy man's soul is loaded -with many a crime. Give him time for thought, for counsel, for -repentance. Abridge not the period of religious comfort. Send him not -hot from the bloody deed before the throne of the Almighty Judge."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How long?" asked Ramiro, somewhat impatiently.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Allow him four-and-twenty hours for preparation," said Lorenzo. "It -is short enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So be it," said Ramiro d'Orco; "take him hence. Let him have a priest -to admonish him; and at this hour to-morrow, do him to death in the -court-yard by the axe. My lord prefect, will you ride with me? Our -horses are all ready, and I have again to leave the city for a few -hours. There are some curious things of the olden time by the road -side."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Willingly," answered Lorenzo, "if we can be back before night, for I -expect, from day to day, intelligence from the Duke of Valentinois, -now lying before Forli."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ramiro d'Orco assured him that their return would be before sunset; -and, descending to the court-yard, they mounted and rode out of the -Ravenna gate. Each was followed by numerous well-armed servants, and, -whether by accident or design, their trains were very equal in -numbers.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meantime, the unhappy criminal cast himself down upon a bench, -and fell into a fit of despairing thought. Even among the hardest and -harshest of the human race, there lingers long a certain feeling of -compassion for intense misery; but yet it is not probable that the -guards and attendants of Ramiro d'Orco would have suffered the -murderer to sit quietly there, had they not been moved by an -inclination to talk over the various events of the day, and hear the -scandal of the town and neighbourhood.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Italian is very fond of scandal; but he loves it not for the sake -of the coarse enjoyment which many others feel in feeding on the -follies of their kind, but rather for the exercise of the fine-edged -wit, the keen but delicate sarcasm of his nation, to which it gives an -ample field. Even the hard men there present had each his slight -smile, and his light and playful jest at the subject of their -discourse. Alas! that subject was the fair wife of Lorenzo Visconti -and her train of French and Roman cavaliers.</p> - -<p class="normal">They had not been thus engaged five minutes, when suddenly a door just -behind the seat of judgment opened, and the friar, Father Peter, -entered, looking eagerly round. The wit and the jest ceased instantly, -and the men looked at him in silence, with no very loving aspect. None -had any tangible cause of dislike; but men have antipathies -instinctive, deeply seated, not to be resisted.</p> - -<p class="normal">With his still noiseless step Mardocchi advanced, stepped down, and -asked where Ramiro d'Orco was. They told him that their lord had gone -forth by the Ravenna gate, and his countenance fell. He said little, -however, for he was very careful of his words; and, after having gazed -at the murderer--the only one who seemed to take no notice of him--he -withdrew by the great door. At the head of the staircase he paused and -meditated for several minutes, then descended into the court and -sought the great gates. He there halted again, and muttered to -himself--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, no matter? It may be as well that at first there should seem no -suspicion. It will look more natural. Slight causes at first, and then -graver doubts, and then formal inquiries, and then damning proofs. -That were the best course. But this Signor d'Orco of mine is so -thirsty for his blood, it has been difficult to restrain him hitherto, -and he may hurry on too fiercely. As well he should not know the thing -till night. She will be dead by two; by five or six they will be home, -and in the interval between I shall have time to prepare the public -mind for the tale of poison--without hinting at her husband, however. -Let that come afterwards."</p> - -<p class="normal">But Mardocchi's plans were destined to be disappointed, in part at -least. He was not allowed time to prepare the public mind, as he -proposed; for though, from a vulgar assassin, he had risen by skill -and assiduous study to be something like a politician, and his schemes -were often deep and well laid, yet the finest politicians must often -be the slaves of circumstances, and sometimes their own cupidity -frustrates their best devised projects.</p> - -<p class="normal">Friar Peter reached what was called the little piazza, and stopped for -a moment to speak with one of the Roman gentlemen who had followed -Eloise Visconti to Imola. The nobleman asked the monk several -questions in a low voice. "I really know not what is the lady's -malady," said Mardocchi at length, following out his purpose; "I -should say it is the effect of a slow poison, but that I know no one -has any cause to put her out of the way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be not too sure of that," replied the other; "she left us in a very -sudden way to-day, and the servants told us, retired to her room ill. -But as to causes, I could tell you what I overheard, just before she -fainted last night. Hark, you, friar!"</p> - -<p class="normal">But before he could add more, a man in a dusty dress came up and took -Mardocchi by the arm, saying, "I wish to speak with you in private, -father."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mardocchi stepped aside with him, and the other continued, in a low -voice, "Mount your mule instantly and speed to Forli. The duke sends -you word he has need of you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What duke?" asked Mardocchi; "and what token does he send?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The Duke Valentinois, to be sure," replied the man; "do you not -remember me? I have seen you at the Borgia Palace a dozen times three -years ago. As for the token, he says, By the horse, and the month, and -the Church of San Bartholomew, come to him!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Will not to-morrow do?" asked Mardocchi. "I have matters of -importance to see to to-day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied the other; "Don Cæsar says what has to be done must be -done to-night. You have four-and-twenty miles to ride, and it is now -near one hour past noon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I will speed," said the friar; "I promised always to be ready -at his bidding, and I never fail to keep my word. But I have a letter -to write--nay, it is but short--ten words are enough. I will but step -into this scrivener's and borrow pen and paper. Then I will go for my -mule. It is a quick beast and enduring, and I shall reach Forli ere -night."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he sped away, and, procuring the means of writing, -considered for one moment, and then decided on the words he was to use -for the purpose of conveying his meaning without betraying his secret.</p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Illustrious Lord," he wrote at length, "my part of the business is -over. I have confessed my penitent and given her the viaticum. It is -for you to discover whether she came to her present state fairly; and, -I doubt not, if her chamber is closely searched, and her women -examined, enough will be made manifest to fix the guilt upon the right -person. Go slowly and go surely. I am called suddenly to Forli by -commands I dare not disobey; but, if possible, I will be in Imola -again ere to-morrow night."</p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">He read the words over more than once, and then saying, "That -discloses nothing," folded the paper and sealed it. His next -consideration was by whose hands he should convey it to Ramiro d'Orco. -The scrivener himself was an old acquaintance; and, after some -thought, he decided to entrust the letter to him. Many were the -injunctions he laid upon him to deliver it immediately on the Lord of -Imola's return: and then he sought his mule and set out for Forli.</p> - -<p class="normal">But the scrivener was fond of knowing every one's secrets--it was part -of his profession in those days. Thus the seal of the letter was not -very long intact. The contents puzzled the old man. He saw there was a -double meaning; but he could not divise the enigma. "I will find out -by-and-bye," he said; and, sitting down, he deliberately took a copy -of the letter. Then, by a process still well known in Italy, he sealed -it up again, so that no eye could detect that the cover had been -opened.</p> - -<p class="normal">About half an hour after all this had been done, people were seen -hurrying through the streets, and symptoms of agitation and terror -were apparent in the town.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is the matter? what is the matter, Signor Medico?" asked the -scrivener, running out from his booth, and catching the sleeve of a -physician who was walking more slowly than the rest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The Countess Visconti, the lady of the prefect, has been poisoned, -they say," replied the physician. "I know no more about it, for they -did not send for me, or perhaps I might have saved her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then she is dead?" asked the scrivener.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, dead enough," answered the other, and walked on.</p> - -<p class="normal">The scrivener had his own thoughts; but the name of Ramiro d'Orco had -become somewhat terrible in Imola, and Mardocchi's letter was safely -delivered as soon as that nobleman returned.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The air was balmy, the breeze was fresh and strong, the large -masses -of clouds, like spirit thrones, floated buoyant over the sky, followed -by the dancing sunshine. The manes of the horses waved wildly in the -wind, and their wide nostrils expanded to take in the delicious air. -The influence of the hour and scene spread to the heart of Lorenzo -Visconti, and seemed, for the time at least, to banish the thought of -sorrow and of ill. Out of the city, with the wide country between -Imola and Ravenna stretching in deep blue waving lines before his -eyes, the wind refreshing his brow and fanning his cheek, and his -noble horse bounding proudly under him, a sense of freedom from -earthly shackles and the hard bond of fate came over him. It sparkled -in his eye, it beamed upon his lip.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ramiro d'Orco gazed upon him, and his aspect, more like what it had -been in early youth, brought back the thought of other days. Did they -soften that hard, obdurate heart? Did they mollify the stern, dark -purposes within his breast? Oh, no! He only thought, "Soon--very -soon!" And if there was any change in his feelings, it was but -inasmuch that the momentary relief--the temporary joy in Lorenzo's -aspect promised to give zest to his revenge, and add pangs to the -sufferings he hoped to inflict.</p> - -<p class="normal">Yet he was courteous, gentle--oh, marvellously courteous. To have seen -him, one would have thought he was riding by the side of his dearest -friend; no one could have dreamed that there was one rankling passion -in his breast. Grave he was truly, but he was always grave. The -expression of his countenance, shaded by the long, iron-grey hair, was -even somewhat stern; but his words were smooth, and even kind; and -there was a sort of rigid grace about him, like that of some statues, -which gave force to all he said. They rode on (their two trains -mingling together) for about ten miles from Imola, and then Ramiro, -pointing with his hand to a low hill on the right, told Lorenzo that -just beyond that rise there had been lately found a curious ancient -tomb, apparently of an earlier date than any known Roman monument.</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will go and see it," he said; "we shall have plenty of time. 'Tis -but a quarter of a mile from the road."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo willingly consented: but when they had passed the rise, and -were turning from the road to the right, some white objects rose over -the slope, and a few steps more showed several lines of tents, with -sentries on guard, and horses picketed near.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! what is this?" exclaimed Ramiro d'Orco, with a look of -displeasure manifest on his countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Troops of France, my good lord," replied Lorenzo. "Do you not see the -banners? Probably your relation, the Lord de Vitry, with the auxiliary -force promised to his Highness the Duke of Valentinois."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is strange, my lord prefect, that they should be camped on this -side of Imola," said Ramiro; "they were more needed at Forli, -methinks."</p> - -<p class="normal">He had drawn in his bridle while speaking, as if hesitating whether he -should go on or turn back; but Lorenzo spurred forward at once, and -was already speaking to the sentries, when the other came up.</p> - -<p class="normal">They were led almost immediately into the camp, and welcomed by De -Vitry at the door of his tent.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come in, nobles," he said, "come in; you are just in time to crush a -cup of right French wine with me. Good faith, I and the great maestro -were about to drain the goblet. He has promised to paint me a -portrait, Signor Ramiro, of your fair relation, my sweet Blanche; and -I tell him if he wants the picture of an angel for any of his great -pictures, he shall have the portrait to copy at his wish."</p> - -<p class="normal">Something common-place was said by Ramiro d'Orco in reply, and all -three entered the tent, where they found Leonardo da Vinci seated with -a cup of wine before him, but in dusty apparel, and with a very grave -expression of countenance. The ceremonious salutations of the day took -place, and some fine wine of the Rhone was handed round; but De Vitry -was more abrupt and thoughtful than ordinary. At length he rose, and -beckoned Lorenzo aside, saying:</p> - -<p class="normal">"I want to speak to you, Visconti. How long are you from Forli?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But a few days," replied Lorenzo, following him; "I suppose you have -stopped the intended succour?"</p> - -<p class="normal">De Vitry made no answer to this half question, but whispered -hastily----</p> - -<p class="normal">"I understand it all; everything shall be done as he says. Devil take -that Antonio! what has he gone away for, just at such an emergency?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My noble friend, I know not what you mean," replied Lorenzo; "where -has he gone? what emergency?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere De Vitry could answer, Ramiro d'Orco had risen, and, with a bland -smile upon his lip, was approaching them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I crave pardon, noble lords," he said, "but if we pursue not our -journey soon, signor, we shall not reach Imola ere dark."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not let me detain you," said De Vitry, with his usual frank, -soldier-like manner. "Tell the duke, Visconti, that I think all danger -past, but that I will hold my ground till the last-named day has seen -the sun set, and then retire to Ravenna. My lord of Imola, I ought to -have paid my respects to you yesterday, but we were all tired with a -long march. Tomorrow, when the sun is declining, I will be with you; -but, I beg, no ceremony. I come but scantily attended, and form and -display are needless. Will you not taste more wine?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Both Ramiro and Lorenzo declined; and the former felt well satisfied -when he saw the readiness with which the young prefect accompanied -him, for evil purposes are always suspicious, and he had thought the -few words spoken in private between Lorenzo and De Vitry must have -some reference to himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He suspects nothing," he thought, as they remounted and rode on; "but -how could he? I am too eager. Like a boy chasing a butterfly, or a -youth a woman, I fear the prize will escape me, even when it is within -my grasp."</p> - -<p class="normal">The rest of the journey was uninteresting. The two cavaliers soon -reached the object to which their steps tended--a small town, or -rather village, which Ramiro was fortifying, to command a pass through -a morass. The Etruscan tomb was forgotten, and their return to Imola -was made by a narrower and steeper, but much shorter path, which -brought them to the gates just as the sun had set.</p> - -<p class="normal">A single lantern, which hung from the vault of the arched gateway, -gave them barely light to guide their horses, and as it fell upon the -dark countenances of the guard, Lorenzo thought, "It feels like -entering a prison."</p> - -<p class="normal">At this moment a man stepped out of the shadow and handed Ramiro -d'Orco a paper, with the one word "important."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A light! bring me a light!" exclaimed the Lord of Imola; and, with -some difficulty, a torch was lighted at the lantern, and held up so -that he could read. The contents of the letter seemed to puzzle him -for a moment, but gradually his pale cheek flushed, and his eye -flashed with a triumphant light.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here we must fain part for the night, my lord prefect," he said. "You -take to the bishop's square, and I, I am sorry to say, back to the -castle, for business of importance will keep me there to-night. We -shall meet again to-morrow. Good night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good night," replied Lorenzo; and he turned his horse into the street -just within the walls.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, my lord, my lord," cried a voice, ere he had ridden a hundred -yards, "what news I have to tell you! Alas! alas! my lady is dead."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Dead!" exclaimed Lorenzo, throwing his horse almost on his haunches -by the suddenness with which he reined him up; "dead! The man is mad! -Why, Bazil, what do you mean?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Too true, too true, my noble lord," replied the Frenchman; "she died -at two o'clock--quite suddenly. But come up, my lord. 'Tis ill talking -of such things here in the street."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo spurred on his horse; and oh! what a tumult of wild -feelings were in his heart; But there was one predominant. It was -regret--almost remorse. He had spoken harshly, he thought--had acted -harshly. She had felt it more than he believed she could or would, as -her fainting on the previous night had shown. True, she had given -abundant cause for harsh words, and even harsher acts than he had -used. But the cause was forgotten in the thought of one so young, so -beautiful, so full of happy life, being laid suddenly in the cold -grave. A thousand times had he wished that he had never seen her; but, -now that she was gone, he would have given his right hand to recall -her to life. He reached the palace; he sprang from his horse and -rushed in. He heard the confused tale of the servants, and he sprang -up the stairs; but, as he went, his pace slackened. An awe came over -him; and he trod the corridor as if his step could have awakened the -dead. With a trembling hand he opened the door, and entered the -chamber of death. There were lights at the head and at the feet of the -corpse, with two of Eloise's maids--Giovanetta and another--seated one -on either side. Late autumn flowers were strewed on the fair form of -the poor girl, cut off in her young spring, and the painful odour of -the death incense spread a sickly perfume through the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo approached with slow and silent tread, uncovered the face, and -gazed at it for a moment. Then kneeling by the bedside, he took one of -her marble-cold hands in his and pressed his lips upon it. A few tears -fell upon the alabaster skin, and rising, he beckoned Giovanetta -toward the adjoining room.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the door he paused, and said in a low voice--</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may both retire; but be near at hand; I will watch beside her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You, my lord!" exclaimed the girl.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I," answered Lorenzo: "Why not I? But mark me, lock the door. I will -watch here, and when the priests return, say I will have nothing -farther done till to-morrow. She must lie as she is now. There is -something strange here, girl, on which I must be satisfied."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, strange indeed," said Giovanetta.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, it must be unravelled before a grain of earth falls upon her," -replied Lorenzo. "Now leave me; I cannot talk more to-night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must tell you my lady's last words," said the girl: "it was her -command. In the agony of death, she cried, 'My husband! my husband! -tell him I never sinned against him as he thought--tell him I have -been faithful to him.' That is what she said."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, God! Do not torture me!" cried Lorenzo, waving her away. The girl -returned into the chamber of the dead, and whispered a few words to -her companion. Then both rose and retired, locking the door behind -them.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo seated himself in the large chair, so that he could see -through the open door the bed and its inanimate burden. I will not -attempt to trace his feelings. Twice he rose, went to the bedside, -gazed upon the pale face, and returned to his watching-place; and -often he covered his eyes with his hands. There were various sounds -without--the return of priests--the movements of the servants; but he -gave them no heed; and shortly all was silent again.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length there came a nearer sound. It seemed in the room beside -him--near, very near; and Lorenzo, starting, turned his head. Suddenly -his arms were seized by two strong men, and a third put his hand upon -the hilt of Lorenzo's sword to prevent him from drawing it. "You are -our prisoner, my lord prefect," said one of the men, "charged with the -murder of your wife. Come with us without resistance, for resistance -is vain. The palace is in our hands."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lorenzo gazed round from one to another, and perceived that there were -several more figures at the door. He had no thought of resistance, -however. Taken by surprise at a moment when his mind was overpowered -with grief and horror, the fire of his character was quite subdued.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The murder of my wife!" he said, "the murder of my wife! Who dares to -charge me? Who is mad enough to accuse me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of that we know nothing, my lord," replied the man who had before -spoken; "but you must come with us."</p> - -<p class="normal">Silently, and without even caring to take his bonnet from the table, -he accompanied his captors, looking round the vacant corridors and -halls with a feeling of desolation words cannot convey. Not one of all -his servants was to be seen; no familiar face presented itself; he was -all alone in the hands of an enemy. The truth had flashed upon his -mind at length, but how he knew not. Was it an instinct? was it the -accumulated memories of many little incidents in the past, each next -to nothing by itself, but swelling to a mountain by the piling of one -small grain upon another, which showed him now, that Ramiro d'Orco was -his foe, and had been compassing his destruction? Or was it that a -dark and terrible--almost prophetic warning, which that same man had -given him in the palace of Cæsar Borgia, came back to his recollection -then?</p> - -<p class="normal">That same man had said that he never forgave--that he never -forgot--that years might pass, circumstances change, the chain between -the present and the past seem severed altogether, and yet the memory -of an injury remain the only adamantine link unbroken. Lorenzo -remembered the words even then, as they marched him through the cold, -dark streets towards the citadel. He remembered, too, that by a fatal -error Ramiro had been led to think he had slighted his alliance, -destroyed his daughter's happiness, and treated her with scorn and -neglect. And now every courtesy he had received since he came to Imola -recurred to his memory as a menace which he should have heeded, every -smile as a lure which should have been avoided. How could he suppose, -he asked himself, that such a man as that would forget so great an -injury? how could he believe that he would so hospitably receive the -injurer without some dark and deadly purpose beneath the smooth -exterior?</p> - -<p class="normal">Thought after thought, all painful, flashed through his brain. They -were many--innumerable, and, ere he could give them any clear and -definite order, the gates of the citadel were opened for his entrance, -and a few minutes after, the low, damp dungeon of a murderer received -him. They left him in solitude and in darkness to all the bitterness -of thought; and then all that was to follow presented itself to his -mind in full and terrible array--the trial; the death; the disgrace; -the blighted name; the everlasting infamy. Oh! for the battle-field, -the cannon's roar, the splintering lance, the grinding wound, the -death of triumph and of glory!</p> - -<p class="normal">Vain wishes: the heavy iron door was there, barring from every active -scene of life; but that was not all he had to suffer that night. To -the felon's dungeon was to be added the felon's chains. The door -opened, the torchlight flashed in; fetters were placed upon his hands -and ankles, and the ring of the chain was fastened to a ring in the -wall. The guard withdrew, but left the door ajar, and a narrow line of -light marked the entrance. It grew fainter and fainter as the torches -receded, and then a human figure, like a dark shadow, crossed the -light as it became broader while some one entered.</p> - -<p class="normal">Could it be any one to bring him comfort? Oh no. The well-known voice -of Ramiro d'Orco spoke in its cold, calm accents.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Young man," it said, "you should beware when you are well warned. My -lord prefect, you have to die to-morrow. Make your peace with God, for -there is no help for you on earth. You shall have a fair trial in our -court, that all the world may know the proud Lorenzo Visconti has not -been condemned unjustly, but is truly guilty of the murder of a poor -defenceless woman--his own wife--and that history may record the fact -among the famous deeds of the great house of Milan. The proofs admit -of no doubt; so be prepared; and when the axe is about to fall, -remember me and Leonora d'Orcobr> - -"Man, you are deceived!" exclaimed Lorenzo. But Ramiro waited no -reply, and the heavy key turned in the open door.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It was a bright and sunshiny morning--considering the season -of the -year, more summer-like and warm than usual--and Leonora d'Orco sat in -her beautiful little garden without covering for her head, and with -her rich black hair in less trim array than usual, falling over her -lovely neck and shoulders. Her eyes were fixed upon the fountain in -its marble basin just before her, and there was something calm but -melancholy in their gaze. She watched the water as it sprung bounding -up, and then fell again in glittering drops, and presently the long, -jetty eyelashes overflowed with tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Poor unhappy girl!" she murmured: "the fountain of bright life is -dried up for her--the gay and sparkling drops all spent. Oh -Eloise--poor Eloise!"</p> - -<p class="normal">One of her maids came out and stood by her side; but Leonora did not -notice her, although the girl seemed anxious to tell her something. -Her lady turned away her eyes. Below, at the distance of about half a -mile, lay the city, with its dark walls and citadel strongly marked -out in the clear light, and she saw a horseman riding up at headlong -speed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who is that coming, Carlotta?" asked Leonora. "It is not my father -surely."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, signora," replied the girl. "It looks like the maestro. He -will speak to you of what I was going to tell you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What were you going to tell?" asked Leonora with sudden eagerness.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! bad news, signora--nothing but bad news now," replied the girl: -"they say--I don't know how true it is, but Marco told me--they say -that the lord prefect was arrested last night by the Signor Ramiro's -order, for poisoning his lady."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora started up with a face as pale as death; but, after gazing on -the girl for a moment with a wild look, she seated herself again and -put her hand to her head.</p> - -<p class="normal">Two minutes had hardly passed ere Leonardo was seen hurrying along the -terrace, and the next moment he took her hand and kissed it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pardon, dear lady, pardon my abruptness; but I have no time to lose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Speak! speak!" cried Leonardo, in a low but firm tone. "Let me hear -all and quickly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The trial is over," said Leonora. "Your father would not preside; but -his creatures have condemned him. No time was allowed to summon other -witnesses. Some poison, concealed in the case of a portrait known to -be Lorenzo's, was found in the unhappy lady's chamber; a girl called -Giovanetta testified that her mistress and Friar Peter both told -her that two papers--one of which she tried upon a dog who died -instantly, and the other which her mistress took--were given to the -countess by her husband. Some other small circumstances of suspicion -appeared, and on this he was condemned, although there were numerous -inconsistencies. He is innocent, believe me; but in two hours he will -be done to death before the south gate, unless your father can be -persuaded to respite him. There are many in the town that are sure of -his innocence, but too few I fear--</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is innocent! he is innocent!" cried Leonora, with her brow -burning, and her cheek pale. "He is innocent as a babe. I will go -down--I will return with you--I will see my father--I will save him or -die with him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, lady, they will let no one enter the town," said Leonardo; "they -have trebled the sentries at the gates. All may come forth who will, -but no one can return. So they told me as I passed; and, unless you -have the key of the postern, as you once had, I fear--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have--I have," said Leonora; "stay but one moment."</p> - -<p class="normal">She flew into the house and was but an instant gone. Leonardo saw her -hide something like a small vial in her bosom, but the large key was -in her hand; and merely beckoning him to follow, she ran down the -steps of the terrace, and through the garden toward the gate. Leonardo -followed rapidly, merely saying to the girl----</p> - -<p class="normal">"Send down my horse to the gate."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora was at the postern first, however, but her hands so trembled -she could not put the key in the lock. The painter took it from her, -opened the little gate, and, passing in, she sped on towards the -citadel. She did not observe that Leonardo was no longer with her; -but, with frantic speed, and hair escaped from all its bindings, she -sped on through the almost deserted streets till she reached the gates -of the citadel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where is my father?" she cried; "where is the Lord of Imola?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, lady," replied a man standing beside the sentinel, "he is not -here; he is in the bishop's piazza, waiting till the execution is -over. This is a terrible day, and will bring ruin on the city, I can -see."</p> - -<p class="normal">But ere his last words were uttered, Leonora was gone.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ramiro d'Orco truly stood in the square before the bishop's palace, -which was not two hundred yards from the south gate. His arms were -crossed upon his chest; his head was held high, his brow contracted; -his jaws so firmly set, that when he spoke, in answer to any of the -lords and officers who surrounded him, the sounds issued from between -his teeth, and his lips were hardly seen to move.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you not think, my lord, this is very dangerous," said one; "do you -remember he is the prefect?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He himself decided yesterday at this very hour, that no rank can -shield a murderer from death," replied Ramiro d'Orco.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He made no defence," said another, "but denied the competence of your -court, declared the charge a lie, and appealed to the Pope and the -King of France."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He himself pronounced my court competent to all high justice, -yesterday," said Ramiro, drily. "Let him appeal. When his head is off, -they cannot put it on again. No more of this. He dies, if I live."</p> - -<p class="normal">A short pause ensued, and then a man was seen running rapidly up the -street which led toward the south gate.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who is this?" asked Ramiro d'Orco. "They have not called noon from -the belfry yet, have they?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my lord," answered a young priest; "it wants half an hour of -noon. But they have taken the prisoner down to the gate," he added, -well comprehending what was going on in the heart of his lord. "I saw -them pass as I came up a minute ago. But what has this fellow got in -his arms?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is one of the guards from the gates," said another; "and, by my -life, I think they must have anticipated the hour, for that is a man's -head he is carrying."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No great evil," murmured Ramiro d'Orco; but a moment after a soldier -reached the spot where they stood, and laid a bloody head at Ramiro's -feet. All, however, remarked that the hair was somewhat grey, and the -crown shaved.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A pennon of horse from his Highness the Duke of Valentinois is at the -gate, my lord, seeking admission," said the messenger, almost -breathless. "We did not admit them, as your lordship had ordered the -gates not to be opened; but the leader threw this head in through the -wicket, saying that the duke had sent it to you for the love he bears -you. It is Friar Peter's head, my lord; do you not see? and the -officer says he confessed last night having poisoned the Countess -Visconti. What are we to do?"</p> - -<p class="normal">A murmur of horror ran through the little crowd around, and a look of -relief and satisfaction at the timely intervention spread over almost -every countenance except that of Ramiro d'Orco, whose brow had -gathered into a deeper frown than ever.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What are we to do with the lord prefect?" asked the man again.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hence, meddling fool!" exclaimed Ramiro d'Orco, stamping his foot -upon the ground. "Strike off his head! The sentence of my court shall -not be reversed. Strike off his head, I say! Wait no longer--'twill be -noon ere you reach the gate again. Away! Then open the gates. But mark -me, no delay, as you value your own life! Go fast, sirrah! Have your -feet no strength?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The soldier ran down the street in haste, and Ramiro turned his eyes -from the pained and anxious countenances around him; but it was only -to meet a sight that affected him still more.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! I would have been spared this!" he cried, as Leonora rushed -toward him and cast herself at his feet.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord--my father!" she exclaimed, stretching out her hands towards -him, "spare him! spare him! He is innocent--you know he is innocent! -Lose not a moment--send down the pardon--some gentleman run down. He -pardons him. Be quick! oh be quick!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hold, on your lives!" cried Ramiro d'Orco, in a voice of thunder. -"Hence, girl. Take her away--some one take her away. He dies, if I -live!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then hear, Ramiro d'Orco!" cried Leonora, "send me to the block -instead of him. I poisoned her more surely than he did. See, here is -the poison. I am ready; take me to the block! I confess the crime. -But hear me, lords and gentlemen all: Lorenzo Visconti is -innocent--innocent of the death of his poor wife--innocent of the -neglect and insult my father thinks he offered me, and for which, in -truth, he does him to death; innocent of all offence, as this hard -parent will find when we are both in our still graves."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! what is that?" exclaimed her father, gazing at her; "she -raves--take her away!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I rave not. It is all true," cried Leonora; "so help me God, as he -has explained all. Will you send the pardon now? Oh, speak! speak!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is too late," said Ramiro, in a low and gloomy tone, pointing with -his hand down the street.</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora turned and gazed, with her eyes almost starting from her head. -Four men were carrying a bier with something stretched upon it, and a -cloak thrown over all. Leonora sprung upon her feet, uttered a shriek -that rung through the whole square, and then fell senseless on the -ground.</p> - -<p class="normal">A brief lapse of forgetfulness came to that wrung and agonized heart, -and then she opened her eyes, but she closed them quickly again. She -fancied she was in a dream. What was it she thought she saw? The face -of Lorenzo Visconti bending over her; French soldiers all armed; the -banners of the Church mingled with others she knew not. Oh, it was a -dream--a deceitful dream!</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let me take her, Lorenzo," said a voice she had not heard for years; -"joy kills as well as sorrow. Leonora--cousin Leonora, it is De Vitry: -wake up--wake up. Things are not so bad as they seemed. It was the -corpse of a murdering villain you saw, justly condemned to death -yesterday at this hour. Visconti is safe."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora opened her eyes again, and found herself in the arms of De -Vitry. She gazed anxiously round. There stood Lorenzo with his head -uncovered, and his upper garment off; and a smile, like that of an -angel, came upon her lips; but when he advanced a step towards her, -she shrunk back in De Vitry's arms, murmuring, "Take me to my father! -Oh! where is my father?" and, covering her eyes with her hands, she -wept profusely.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A litter is coming speedily from the inn there," said Leonardo da -Vinci; "let me escort her, my lord. You have other matters to attend -to just now, and she will be well in privacy for a time. Here comes -Antonio with a litter."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Vitry lifted her in his stalwart arms, and placed her, as tenderly -as if she had been an infant, in the sort of covered bier then -commonly used in Italy by ladies too feeble or too timid to travel on -horseback. Leonardo drew the curtains round; but, leaning his hand -upon the woodwork, he walked on by her side, while four stout bearers -carried her on toward the gate leading to the villa. Twice Leonora -drew back the curtain and looked out. Once she asked, "Where is my -father? Is this all true, signor maestro, or am I dreaming still?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your father is at the citadel waiting for the French and Roman -lords," replied Leonardo. "All is real, my child, and happy is it that -it is so; for both Antonio and I had nearly been too late. The number -of men we could introduce last night was too small; and, had you not -left the postern key in my hands, the Lord of Vitry and the French -forces could hardly have entered ere the axe had fallen."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leonora shuddered and let fall the curtain; but after a moment or two -she looked out again on the other side, saying--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! good Antonio, is that you? Surely I saw him--surely I saw your -lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, dear lady, you saw him safe," replied Antonio; "we were -preparing to force the gate; but we should have been too late had not -the maestro brought round the French forces from the other side of the -town and let us in."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God be praised!" murmured Leonora; "but oh, Antonio, does any one -believe him guilty still? If they do, that will kill him by a sharper -death than that of the axe.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No one does--no one can," replied Antonio. "Mardocchi--that is, -Father Peter--made full confession last night of the darkest and most -damnable plot that ever was hatched. I could not tell the Duke of -Valentinois all, for there were many things I could not discover; but -when I showed him plainly that Mardocchi had betrayed some of his most -terrible secrets, he had him put to the torture; and then the -bloody-minded knave confessed the whole, filling up all the gaps that -my tale had left. The duke showed no reverence for his shaved head, -but struck it off, and sent it to Imola, with his whole evidence -written down by the Dominican who was there present. No, no, lady, no -one can entertain even a suspicion now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank God for that also," said Leonora, in a low tone. "Oh, this has -been a terrible day."</p> - -<p class="normal">Again she let fall the curtain of the litter; and the bearers moved -slowly up the hill. They carried her along the terrace to her own -saloon; but when they stopped, and Leonardo would have aided her to -descend, they found her sound asleep.</p> - -<p class="normal">Tired nature, exhausted with the conflict of passions, had given way, -and slumber had sealed her eyes at the first touch of returning peace. -There was a sweet, well-contented smile upon her lips, but Leonardo -marked a bright red spot upon her cheek, and calling her maids to her, -he himself stayed at the villa till she awoke. The burning fever was -already upon her; her words were incoherent, her pulse beating -terribly. For fourteen days Leonora d'Orco hung between life and -death; and happy was it, perhaps, that anything occurred to place a -veil between her eyes and the last terrible act of the drama in which -she herself had borne so conspicuous a part.</p> - -<p class="normal">Every one at all acquainted with Italian history knows what followed; -how Cæsar Borgia, about four days after the events last recorded had -taken place, commanded the personal attendance of Ramiro d'Orco on his -terrible and treacherous march to Senegaglia; how Ramiro found himself -compelled to obey, both by the presence of the French and the papal -troops in his capital, and by fear lest his machinations against -Lorenzo Visconti should be too closely investigated; and how his dead -body was found one morning out in two pieces, in the marketplace of -Bologna. None knew how he died, or by whose command; and Leonora never -suspected that he had suffered a violent death.</p> - -<p class="normal">That he was dead they told her as soon as she could bear such tidings; -and under the escort of De Vitry and his forces she joined Bianca -Maria and returned, after some months, to the Milanese. At the end of -some fifteen or sixteen months, Lorenzo Visconti and Leonora d'Orco -cast off the garb of mourning, and united their fates for ever. It was -on the day when she reached her twenty-first birthday; and if the -reader will look back through this veracious history, he will see that -few so young have ever gone through such varied and terrible griefs -and trials; nor will he wonder that, while I say Leonora d'Orco was at -last happy, I add, that a shade of melancholy mingled with her joy, -and that the dark cloud of memory still hung over the past, forming a -sombre background to the sparkling sunshine of the present.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>FOOTNOTES</h4> -<br> -<br> -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_01" href="#div4Ref_01">Footnote 1</a>: Paul -Jovius describes these guns--the embryo musket--amongst -the arms of the Swiss infantry, which did such good service in the -campaign against Naples. They were at first looked upon with great -contempt by the men-at-arms.</p> -<br> -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_02" href="#div4Ref_02">Footnote 2</a>: The facts -alleged against Alexander by the cardinal were, -unfortunately, only too notorious, and the letters produced were the -authentic letters of Borgia and Bajazet. They are still extant and -authenticated by the Apostolic notary. In one from the pope to the -sultan he demands "<i>ut placeat sibi</i> (Bajazet) <i>quam citius mittera. -nobis ducatos quadraginta millia in auro venetos, pro annata anni -praesentis, quae finiet ultimo die novembris</i>," and Bajazet sweetly -suggests to his Christian ally, "<i>dictum Gem</i> (Zizim) <i>levare facere -ex augustiis istius mundi et transferri ejus animam in alterum -saeculum ubi meliorem habebit quietem</i>," promising him three hundred -thousand ducats as soon as the corpse is delivered to his (Bajazet's) -agents.</p> -<br> -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_03" href="#div4Ref_03">Footnote 3</a>: The Kings -of France always claimed to be such, and the bishop -flattered the monarch's pride by the allusion.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>THE END</h3> -<br> -<br> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Leonora D'Orco, by -G. P. R. 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