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diff --git a/old/7csar10.txt b/old/7csar10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d2b5f42 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/7csar10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14186 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Caesar or Nothing, by Pio Baroja + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Caesar or Nothing + +Author: Pio Baroja + +Release Date: July, 2005 [EBook #8444] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on July 11, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAESAR OR NOTHING *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, David Widger, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + +CAESAR OR NOTHING + +by PIO BAROJA + +_translated from the Spanish by_ + +LOUIS HOW + + + + +CONTENTS + +PROLOGUE + +PART ONE + +ROME + +I THE PARIS-VENTIMIGLIA EXPRESS +II AN EXTRAORDINARY FAMILY +III CAESAR MONCADA +IV PEOPLE WHO PASS CLOSE BY +V THE ABBE PRECIOZI +VI THE LITTLE INTERESTS OF THE PEOPLE IN A ROMAN HOTEL +VII THE CONFIDENCES or THE ABBE PRECIOZI +VIII OLD PALACES, OLD SALONS, OLD LADIES +IX NEW ACQUAINTANCES +X A BALL +XI A SOUNDING-LINE IN THE DARK WORLD +XII A MEETING ON THE PINCIO +XIII ESTHETICS AND DEMAGOGY +XIV NEW ATTEMPTS, NEW RAMBLES +XV GIOVANNI BATTISTA, PAGAN +XVI THE PORTRAIT OF A POPE +XVII EVIL DAYS +XVIII CAESAR BORGIA'S MOTTO, "AUT CAESAR, AUT NIHIL" +XIX CAESAR'S REFLECTIONS +XX DON CALIXTO AT SAINT PETER'S +XXI DON CALIXTO IN THE CATACOMBS +XXII SENTIMENTALITY AND ARCHEOLOGY +XXIII THE 'SCUTCHEON OF A CHURCH +XXIV TOURIST INTERLUDE + + +PART TWO + +CATRO DURO + +I ARRIVAL +II CASTRO DURO +III CAESAR'S LABOURS +IV THE BOOKSELLER AND THE ANARCHISTS +V THE BANQUET +VI UNCLE CHINAMAN +VII A TRYING SCENE +VIII THE ELECTION +IX CAESAR AS DEPUTY +X POLITICAL LABOURS +XI THE PITFALL OF SINIGAGLIA +XII LOCAL STRUGGLES +XIII AMPARITO IN ACTION +XIV INTRANSIGENCE LOST +XV "DRIVELLER" JUAN AND "THE CUB-SLUT" +XVI PITY, A MASK OF COWARDICE +XVII FIRST VICTORY +XVIII DECLARATION OF WAR +XIX THE FIGHT FOR THE ELECTION +XX CONFIDENCE +XXI OUR VENERABLE TRADITIONS I OUR HOLY PRINCIPLES! +XXII FINIS GLORIAE MUNDI + + + + +PROLOGUE + +THE AUTHOR HOLDS FORTH IN REGARD TO THE CHARACTER OF HIS HERO + +MORE OR LESS TRANSCENDENTAL DIGRESSIONS + + +The individual is the only real thing in nature and in life. + +Neither the species, the genus, nor the race, actually exists; they are +abstractions, terminologies, scientific devices, useful as syntheses +but not entirely exact. By means of these devices we can discuss and +compare; they constitute a measure for our minds to use, but have no +external reality. + +Only the individual exists through himself and for himself. I am, I +live, is the sole thing a man can affirm. + +The categories and divisions arranged for classification are like the +series of squares an artist places over a drawing to copy it by. The +lines of the squares may cut the lines of the sketch; but they will cut +them, not in reality but only in the artist's eye. + +In humanity, as in all of nature, the individual is the one thing. Only +individuality exists in the realm of life and in the realm of spirit. + +Individuality is not to be grouped or classified. Individuality simply +cannot fit into a pigeon-hole, and it is all the further from fitting if +the pigeon-hole is shaped according to an ethical principle. Ethics is a +poor tailor to clothe the body of reality. + +The ideas of the good, the logical, the just, the consistent, are too +generic to be completely represented in nature. + +The individual is not logical, or good, or just; nor is he any other +distinct thing; and this through the force of his own fatal actions, +through the influence of the deviation in the earth's axis, or for +whatsoever other equally amusing cause. Everything individual is +always found mixed, full of absurdities of perspective and picturesque +contradictions,--contradictions and absurdities that shock us, because +we insist on submitting individuals to principles which are not +applicable to them. + +If instead of wearing a cravat and a bowler hat, we wore feathers and a +ring in our nose, all our moral notions would change. + +People of today, remote from nature and nasal rings, live in an +artificial moral harmony which does not exist except in the imagination +of those ridiculous priests of optimism who preach from the columns +of the newspapers. This imaginary harmony makes us abhor the +contradictions, the incongruities of individuality, at least it forces +us not to understand them. + +Only when the individual discord ceases, when the attributes of an +exceptional being are lost, when the mould is spoiled and becomes +vulgarized and takes on a common character, does it obtain the +appreciation of the multitude. + +This is logical; the dull must sympathize with the dull; the vulgar and +usual have to identify themselves with the vulgar and usual. + +From a human point of view, perfection in society would be something +able to safeguard the general interests and at the same time to +understand individuality; it would give the individual the advantages of +work in common and also the most absolute liberty; it would multiply the +results of his labour and would also permit him some privacy. This would +be equitable and satisfactory. + +Our society does not know how to do either of these things; it defends +certain persons against the masses, because it has injustice and +privilege as its working system; it does not understand individuality, +because individuality consists in being original, and the original is +always a disturbing and revolutionary element. + +A perfect democracy would be one which, disregarding hazards of birth, +would standardize as far as possible the means of livelihood, of +education, and even the manner of living, and would leave free the +intelligence, the will, and the conscience, so that they might take +their proper places, some higher than others. Modern democracy, on the +contrary, tends to level all mentalities, and to impede the predominance +of capacity, shading everything with an atmosphere of vulgarity. At the +same time it aids some private interests to take their places higher +than other private interests. + +A great part of the collective antipathy for individuality proceeds from +fear. Especially in our Southern countries strong individualities have +usually been unquiet and tumultuous. The superior mob, like the lower +ones, does not wish the seeds of Caesars or of Bonapartes to flourish in +our territories. These mobs pant for a spiritual levelling; for there is +no more distinction between one man and another than a coloured button +on the lapel or a title on the calling-card. Such is the aspiration of +our truly socialist types; other distinctions, like valour, energy, +virtue, are for the democratic steam-roller, veritable impertinences of +nature. + +Spain, which never had a complete social system and has unfolded her +life and her art by spiritual convulsions, according as men of strength +and action have come bursting forth, today feels herself ruined in her +eruptive life, and longs to compete with other countries in their love +for the commonplace and well-regulated and in their abhorrence for +individuality. + +In Spain, where the individual and only the individual was everything, +the collectivist aspirations of other peoples are now accepted as +indisputable dogmas. Today our country begins to offer a brilliant +future to the man who can cry up general ideas and sentiments, even +though these ideas and sentiments are at war with the genius of our +race. + +It would certainly be a lamentable joke to protest against the +democratic-bourgeois tendency of the day: what is is, because it must be +and because its determined moment has come; and to rebel against facts +is, beyond dispute, childish. + +I merely mention these characteristics of the actual epoch; and I point +them out to legitimatize this prologue I have written, which, for what I +know, may after all give more clearness, or may give more obscurity to +my book.... BROTHER AND SISTER + +Many years ago I was stationed as doctor in a tiny Basque town, in +Cestona. Sometimes, in summer, while going on my rounds among the +villages I used to meet on the highway and on the cross-roads passersby +of a miserable aspect, persons with liver-complaint who were taking the +waters at the neighbouring cure. + +These people, with their leather-coloured skin, did not arouse any +curiosity or interest in me. The middle-class merchant or clerk from the +big towns is repugnant to me, whether well or ill. I would exchange a +curt salute with those liverish parties and go my way on my old nag. + +One afternoon I was sitting in a wild part of the mountain, among big +birch-trees, when a pair of strangers approached the spot where I +was. They were not of the jaundiced and disagreeable type of the +valetudinarians. He was a lanky young man, smooth-shaven, grave, and +melancholy; she, a blond woman, most beautiful. + +She was dressed in white and wore a straw hat with large flowers; she +had a refined and gracious manner, eyes of blue, a very dark blue, and +flame-coloured hair. + +I surmised that they were a young married couple; but he seemed too +indifferent to be the husband of so pretty a woman. In any event, they +were not recently wed. + +He bowed to me, and then said to his companion: + +"Shall we sit down here?" + +"Very well." + +They seated themselves on the half-rotten trunk of a tree. + +"Are you on a trip?" he asked me, noticing my horse fastened to a +branch. + +"Yes. I am coming back from a visit." + +"Ah! Are you the town doctor?" + +"Yes." + +"And do you live here, in Cestona?" + +"Yes, I live here." + +"Alone?" + +"Quite alone." + +"In an hotel?" + +"No; in that house there down the road. Behold my house; that is it." + +"It must be hard to live among so many invalids!" he exclaimed. + +"Why?" she asked. "This gentleman may not have the same ideas as you." + +"I believe I have. To my mind, he is right. It is very hard to live +here." + +"You can have nobody to talk to. That's evident." + +"Absolutely nobody. Just imagine; there is not a Liberal in the town; +there are nothing but Carlists and Integrists." + +"And what has that to do with living contented?" she asked mockingly. + +The woman was enchanting; I looked at her, a bit amazed to find her so +merry and so coquettish; and she put several questions to me about my +life and my ideas, with a tinge of irony. + +I wanted to show that I was not exactly a farmer, and turning the talk +to what might be done in a town like that, I threw myself into outlining +utopian projects, and defending them with more warmth than it is +reasonable to express in a conversation with unknown persons. The +woman's mocking smile stirred me up and impelled me to talk. + +"It would be worth seeing, what a little town like this would be," I +said, indicating the village of Cestona, "with really human life in it, +and, above all, without Catholicism. Every tenant might be a master in +his own home, throughout his life. Here you have farm-land that produces +two crops, you have woods, mountains, and a medicinal spring. The +inhabitants of Cestona might have the entire produce of the land, the +mountain to supply building-stone and fire-wood, and besides all that, +the entrance-fees at the springs." + +"And whose duty would it be to distribute the profits in this +patriarchal republic? The municipality's?" he asked. + +"Of course," said I. "The municipality could go ahead distributing the +land, making the roads, cutting out useless middle-men; it could keep +clean, inexpensive hotels for the foreigners, and get a good return from +them." + +"And then you would not admit of inheritance, doctor?" + +"Inheritance? Yes, I would admit of it in regard to things produced by +one person. I believe one ought to have the right to bequeath a picture, +a book, a piece of craftsmanship; but not land, not a mountain." + +"Yes; property-right in land is absurd," he murmured. "The one +inconvenience that your plan would have," he added, "would be that +people from poverty-stricken holes would pour into the perfect towns and +upset the equilibrium." + +"Then we should have to restrict the right of citizenship." + +"But I consider that an injustice. The land should be free to all." + +"Yes, that's true." + +"And religion? None whatever? Like animals," she said ironically. + +"Like animals, and like some illustrious philosophers, dear sister," he +replied. "At the turn of a road, among the foliage, we would place a +marble statue adorned with flowers. Don't you agree, doctor?" + +"It seems to me a very good idea." + +"Above all, for me the great thing would be to forget death and sorrow +a little," he asserted. "Not so many church-bells should be heard. I +believe that we ought even to suppress the maxim about love for one's +neighbour. Make it the duty of the state or the municipality to take +care of the sick and the crippled, and leave men the illusion of living +healthy in a healthy world." + +"Ah! What very ugly ideas you have!" she exclaimed. + +"Yes, that one seems a bit hard to me," said I. + +We were walking down toward the town by a steep and rocky path. It was +beginning to grow dusk, the river shone with silvery reflections, +and the toads broke the silence of the twilight with the sonorous, +flute-like note of their croaking. + +On arriving at the highway we said good-bye; they took the stage, which +was passing at that moment in the direction of the springs, and I +mounted my hack. + + + +IN MY GARDEN + +I had learned that the brother and sister were named Caesar and Laura, +that she lived in Italy and was married. + +Some days later, toward evening, they knocked at my house door. I let +them in, showed them to my garden, and conducted them to a deserted +summer-house, a few sticks put together, on the bank of the river. + +Laura strolled through an orchard, gathered a few apples, and then, with +her brother's aid and mine, seated herself on the trunk of a tree that +leant over the river, and sat there gazing at it. + +While she was taking it in, her brother Caesar started to talk. Without +any preliminary explanation, he talked to me about his family, about his +life, about his ideas and his political plans. He expressed himself with +ease and strength; but he had the uneasy expression of a man who is +afraid of something. + +"I figure," he said, "that I know what there is to do in Spain. I shall +be an instrument. It is for that that I am training myself. I want to +create all my ideas, habits, prejudices, with a view to the role I am +going to play." + +"You do not know what Spain is like," said Laura. "Life is very hard +here." + +"I know that well. There is no social system here, there is nothing +established; therefore it is easier to create one for oneself." + +"Yes, but some protection is requisite." + +"Oh, I will find that." + +"Where?" + +"I think those Church people we knew in Rome will do for me." + +"But you are not a Clerical." + +"No." "And do you want to start your career by deceiving people?" + +"I cannot choose my means. Politics are like this: doing something with +nothing, doing a great deal with a little, erecting a castle on a grain +of sand." + +"And do you, who have so many moral prejudices, wish to begin in that +way?" + +"Who told you that accepting every means is not moral?" + +"I don't understand how it could be," replied Laura. + +"I do," answered her brother. "What is individual morality today? Almost +nothing. It almost doesn't exist. Individual morality can come to be +collective only by contagion, by enthusiasm. And such things do not +happen nowadays; every one has his own morality; but we have not arrived +at a scientific moral code. Years ago notable men accepted the moral +code of the categoric imperative, in lieu of the moral code based on +sin; but the categorical imperative is a stoical morality, a wise man's +morality which has not the sentimental value necessary to make it +popular." + +"I do not understand these things," she replied, displeased. + +"The doctor understands me, don't you?" he said. + +"Yes, I believe I do." + +"For me," Caesar went on, "individual morality consists in adapting +one's life to a thought, to a preconceived plan. The man who proposes to +be a scientist and puts all his powers into achieving that, is a moral +man, even though he steals and is a blackguard in other things." + +"Then, for you," I argued, "morality is might, tenacity; immorality is +weakness, cowardice." + +"Yes, it comes to that. The man capable of feeling himself the +instrument of an idea always seems to me moral. Bismarck, for instance, +was a moral man." + +"It is a forceful point of view," said I. + +"Which, as I see, you do not share," he exclaimed. + +"As things are today, no. For me the idea of morality is attached to the +idea of pity rather than to the idea of force; but I comprehend that +pity is destructive." + +"I believe that you and Caesar," Laura burst forth, "by force of wishing +to see things clear, see them more vaguely than other people. I can see +all this quite simply; it appears to me that we call every person moral +who behaves well, and on the contrary, one that does wicked deeds is +called immoral and is punished." + +"But you prejudge the question," exclaimed Caesar; "you take it as +settled beforehand. You say, good and evil exist...." + +"And don't they exist?" + +"I don't know." + +"So that if they gave you the task of judging mankind, you would see no +difference between Don Juan Tenorio and Saint Francis of Assisi?" + +"Perhaps it was the saint who had the more pleasure, who was the more +vicious." + +"How atrocious!" + +"No, because the pleasure one has is the criterion, not the manner of +getting it. As for me, what is called a life of pleasure bores me." + +"And judging from the little I know of it, it does me too," said I. + +"I see life in general," he continued, "as something dark, gloomy, and +unattractive." + +"Then you gentlemen do not place the devil in this life, since this life +seems unattractive to you. Where do you find him?" + +"Nowhere, I think," replied Caesar; "the devil is a stupid invention." + + + +AT TWILIGHT + +The twilight was beginning. + +"It is chilly here by the river," I said. "Let us go to the house." + +We went up by a sloping path between pear-trees, and reached the +vestibule of the house. From afar we heard the sound of the stage-coach +bells; a headlight gleamed, and we saw it pass by and afterwards +disappear among the trees. "What a mistake to ask more of life than it +can give!" suddenly exclaimed Laura. "The sky, the sun, conversation, +love, the fields, works of art ... think of looking on all these as a +bore, from which one desires to escape through some violent occupation, +so as to have the satisfaction of not noticing that one is alive." + +"Because noticing that one is alive is disagreeable," replied her +brother. + +"And why?" + +"The idea! Why? Because life is not an idyll, not by a good deal. We +live by killing, destroying everything there is around us; we get to +be something by ridding ourselves of our enemies. We are in a constant +struggle." + +"I don't see this struggle. Formerly, when men were savages, perhaps.... +But now!" + +"Now, just the same. The one difference is that the material struggle, +with the muscles, has been changed to an intellectual one, a social one. +Nowadays, it is evident, a man does not have to hunt the bull or the +wild boar in the prairies; he finds their dead bodies at the butcher's. +Neither does the modern citizen have to knock his rival down to overcome +him; nowadays the enemy is conquered at the desk, in the factory, in +the editor's office, in the laboratory.... The struggle is just as +infuriated and violent as it was in the depths of the forests, only it +is colder and more courteous in form." + +"I don't believe it. You won't convince me." + +Laura plucked a branch of white blossoms from a wild-rose bush and put +it into her bosom. + +"Well, Caesar, let us go to the hotel," she said; "it is very late." + +"I will escort you a little way," I suggested. + +We went out on the highway. The night was palpitating as it filled +itself with stars. Laura hummed Neapolitan songs. We walked along a +little while without speaking, gazing at Jupiter, who shone resplendent. + +"And you have the conviction that you will succeed?" I suddenly asked +Caesar. "Yes. More than anything else I have the vocation for being an +instrument. If I win success, I shall be a great figure; if I go to +pieces, those who know me will say: 'He was an upstart; he was a thief.' +Or perhaps they may say that I was a poor sort, because men who have the +ambition to be social forces never get an unprejudiced epitaph." + +"And what will you do in a practical way, if you succeed?" + +"Something like what you dream of. And how shall I do it? By destroying +magnates, by putting an end to the power of the rich, subduing the +middle-class... I would hand over the land to the peasants, I would +send delegates to the provinces to make hygiene obligatory, and +my dictatorship should tear the nets of religion, of property, of +theocracy...." + +"What nonsense!" murmured Laura. + +"My sister doesn't believe in me," Caesar exclaimed, smiling. + +"Oh, yes, _bambino_," she replied. "Yes, I believe in you. Only, why +must you have such silly ambitions?" + +We were getting near the bath establishment, and when we came in front +of it we said good-bye. + +Laura was starting the next day to Biarritz, and Caesar for Madrid. + +We pressed one another's hands affectionately. + +"Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye, doctor!" + +"Good luck!" + +They went along toward the establishment, and I returned home by the +highway, envying the energy of that man, who was getting himself ready +to fight for an ideal. And I thought with melancholy of the monotonous +life of the little town. + + + + +I + +THE PARIS-VENTIMIGLIA EXPRESS + + +_MARSEILLES!_ + +The fast Paris-Ventimiglia train, one of the Grand European Expresses, +had stopped a moment at Marseilles. + +It was about seven in the morning of a winter day. The huge cars, +with their bevelled-glass windows, dripped water from all parts; the +locomotive puffed, resting from its run, and the bellows between car +and car, like great accordeons, had black drops slipping down their +corrugations. + +The rails shone; they crossed over one another, and fled into the +distance until lost to sight. The train windows were shut; silence +reigned in the station; from time to time there resounded a violent +hammering on the axles; a curtain here or there was raised, and behind +the misted glass the dishevelled head of a woman appeared. + +In the dining-car a waiter went about preparing the tables for +breakfast; two or three gentlemen, wrapped in their ulsters, their caps +pulled down, were seated at the tables by the windows and kept yawning. + +At one of the little tables at the end Laura and Caesar had installed +themselves. + +"Did you sleep, sister?" he asked. + +"Yes. I did. Splendidly. And you?" + +"I didn't. I can't sleep on the train." + +"That's evident." + +"I look so bad, eh?" and Caesar examined himself in one of the car +mirrors. "I certainly am absurdly pale." + +"The weather is just as horrible as ever," she added. + +They had left a Paris frozen and dark. During the whole night the cold +had been most intense. One hadn't been able to put a head outside the +car; snow and a furious wind had had their own violent way. + +"When we reach the Mediterranean, it will change," Laura had said. + +It had not; they were on the edge of the sea and the cold continued +intense and the weather dark. + + + +HOW BEAUTIFUL! + +The train began its journey again; the houses of Marseilles could be +seen through the morning haze; the Mediterranean appeared, greenish, +whitish, and fields covered with hoar-frost. + +"What horrid weather!" exclaimed Laura, shuddering. "I dislike the cold +more and more all the time." + +The dining-car waiter came and filled their cups with _cafe-au-lait_. +Laura drew off her gloves and took one of the hot cups between her white +hands. + +"Oh, this is comforting!" she said. + +Caesar began to sip the boiling liquid. + +"I don't see how you can stand it. It's scalding." + +"That's the way to get warm," replied Caesar, undisturbed. + +Laura began to take her coffee by spoonfuls. Just then there come into +the dining-car a tall blond gentleman and a young, charming lady, each +smarter than the other. The man bowed to Laura with much formality. + +"Who is he?" asked Caesar. + +"He is the second son of Lord Marchmont, and he has married a Yankee +millionairess." + +"You knew him in Rome?" + +"No, I knew him at Florence last year, and he paid me attention rather +boldly." + +"He is looking at you a lot now." + +"He is capable of thinking that I am off on an adventure with you." + +"Possibly. She is a magnificent woman." + +"Right you are. She is a marvel. She is almost too pretty. She shows no +character; she has no air of breeding." "There doesn't seem to be any +great congeniality between them." + +"No, they don't get on very well. But come along, pay, let's go. So +many people are coming in here." + +Laura got up, and after her, Caesar. As she passed, one heard the swish +of her silk petticoats. The travellers looked at her with admiration. + +"I believe these people envy me," said Caesar philosophically. + +"It's quite possible, _bambino_," she responded, laughing. + +They entered their compartment. The train was running at full speed +along the coast. The greenish sea and the cloudy sky stretched away and +blotted out the horizon. At Toulon the bad weather continued; a bit +beyond, the sun came out, pallid in the fog, circled with a yellowish +halo; then the fog dispersed rapidly and a brilliant sun made the +snow-covered country shine. + +"Oh! How beautiful!" exclaimed Laura. + +The dense pure snow had packed down. The grape-vines broke up this white +background symmetrically, like flocks of crows settled on the earth; the +pines held high their rounds of foliage, and the cypresses, stern and +slim, stood out very black against all the whiteness. + +On passing Hyeres, as the train turned away from the shore, running +inland, grim snowy mountains began for some while to be visible, and the +sun vanished among the clouds; but when the train came out once more +toward the sea, near San Rafael, suddenly,--as if a theatrical effect +had been arranged,--the Mediterranean appeared, blue, flooded with +sunshine, full of lights and reflections. The sky stretched radiant +above the sea, without a cloud, without a shred of vapour. + +"How marvellous! How beautiful!" Laura again exclaimed, contemplating +the landscape with emotion. "These blessed countries where the sun is!" + +"They have no other drawback, than that the men who inhabit them are a +trifle vague," said Caesar. + +"Bah!" + +The air had grown milder; on the surface of the sea patterns of silver +foam, formed by the beating of the waves, widened themselves out; the +sun's reflection on the restless waters made shining spots and rays, +flaming swords that dazzled the eye. + +The train seemed to puff joyfully at submerging itself in this bland and +voluptuous atmosphere; the palm-trees of Cannes came surging up like a +promise of felicity, and the Cote d'Azur began to show its luminous and +splendid beauty. + +Caesar, tired of so much light, took a book from his pocket: _The +Speculator's Manual_ of Proudhon, and set to reading it attentively and +to marking the passages that struck him as interesting. + + + +THE ENGLISHMAN AND HIS WIFE + +Laura, when she was not watching the landscape, was looking at those who +came and went in the corridor. + +"The Englishman is lying in wait," Laura observed. + +"What Englishman?" asked Caesar. + +"The son of the lord." + +"Ah, yes." + +Caesar kept on reading, and Laura continued to watch the landscape which +hurried by outside the window. After a while she exclaimed: + +"O Lord, what hideous things!" + +"What things?" + +"Those war-ships." + +Caesar looked where his sister pointed. In a roadstead brilliant with +sunlight he saw two men-of-war, black and full of cannons. + +"That's the way one ought to be to face life, armed to the teeth," +exclaimed Caesar. + +"Why?" asked Laura. + +"Because life is hard, and you have to be as hard as it is in order to +win." + +"You don't consider yourself hard enough?" + +"No." + +"Well, I think you are. You are like those rough, pointed rocks on the +shore, and I am like the sea.... They throw me off and I come back." +"That is because, perhaps, when you get down to it, nothing makes any +real difference to you." + +"Oh, _bambino!_" exclaimed Laura, taking Caesar's hand with affectionate +irony. "You always have to be so cruel to your mamma." + +Caesar burst into laughter, and kept Laura's hand between both of his. + +"The Englishman feels sad looking at us," he said. "He doesn't dream +that I am your brother." + +"Open the door, I will tell him to come in." + +Caesar did so, and Laura invited the young Englishman to enter. + +"My brother Caesar," she said, introducing them, "Archibaldo Marchmont." + +They both bowed, and Marchmont said to Laura in French: + +"You are very cruel, Marchesa." + +"Why?" + +"Because you run away from us people who admire and like you. My wife +asked me to present her to you. Would you like her to come?" + +"Oh, no! She mustn't disturb herself. I will go to her." + +"Assuredly not. One moment." + +Marchmont went out into the corridor and presented his wife to Laura and +to Caesar. + +An animated conversation sprang up among them, interrupted by Laura's +exclamations of delight on passing one or another of the wonderful views +along the Riviera. + +"You are a Latin, Marchesa, eh?" said Marchmont. + +"Altogether. This is our sea. Every time I look at it, it enchants me." + +"You are going to stop at Nice?" + +"No, my brother and I are on our way to Rome." + +"But Nice will be magnificent...." + +"Yes, that's true; but we have made up our minds to go to Rome to visit +our uncle, the Cardinal." + +The Englishman made a gesture of annoyance, which did not go unperceived +by his wife or by Laura. On arriving at Nice, the Englishman and his +Yankee wife got out, after promising that they would be in Rome before +many days. + +Laura and Caesar remained alone and chatted about their +fellow-travellers. According to Laura, the couple did not get along well +and they were going to separate. + + + +IN ITALY + +In the middle of the afternoon they arrived at Ventimiglia and changed +trains. + +"Are we in Italy now?" said Caesar. + +"Yes." + +"It seems untidier than France." + +"Yes; but more charming." + +The train kept stopping at almost all the little towns along the route. +In a third-class car somebody was playing an accordeon. It was Sunday. +In the towns they saw people in their holiday clothes, gathered in the +square and before the cafes and the eating-places. On the roads little +two-wheeled carriages passed quickly by. + +It began to grow dark; in the hamlets situated on the seashore fishermen +were mending their nets. Others were hauling up the boats to run them +on to the beach, and children were playing about bare-footed and +half-naked. + +The landscape looked like a theatre-scene, the setting for a romantic +play. They were getting near Genoa, running along by beaches. It was +growing dark; the sea came right up to the track; in the starry, +tranquil night only the monotonous music of the waves was to be heard. + +Laura was humming Neapolitan songs. Caesar looked at the landscape +indifferently. + +On reaching Genoa they had supper and changed trains. + +"I am going to lie down awhile," said Laura. + +"So am I." + +Laura took off her hat, her white cape, and her jacket. + +"Good-night, _bambino_," she said. + +"Good-night. Shall I turn down the light?" + +"As you like." Caesar turned down the light and stretched himself out. +He couldn't sleep in trains and he got deep into a combination of +fantastical plans and ideas. When they stopped at stations and the noise +of the moving train was gone from the silence of the night, Caesar could +hear Laura's gentle breathing. + +A little before dawn, Caesar, tired of not sleeping, got up and started +to take a walk in the corridor. It was raining; on the horizon, below +the black, starless sky, a vague clarity began to appear. Caesar took +out his Proudhon book and immersed himself in it. + +When it began to be day they were already getting near Rome. The train +was running through a flat, treeless plain of swampy aspect, covered +with green grass; from time to time there was a poor hut, a hay-stack, +on the uninhabited, monotonous stretch. + +The grey sky kept on resolving itself into a rain which, at the impulse +of gusts of wind, traced oblique lines in the air. + +Laura had waked and was in the dressing-room. A little later she came +out, fresh and hearty, without the least sign of fatigue. + +They began to see the yellowish walls of Rome, and certain big edifices +blackened by the wet. A moment more and the train stopped. + +"It's not worth the trouble to take a cab," said Laura. "The hotel is +here, just a step." + +They gave a porter orders to attend to the luggage. Laura took her +brother's arm, they went out on the Piazza Esedra, and entered the +hotel. + + + + +II + +AN EXTRAORDINARY FAMILY + +_JUAN GUILLEN_ + + +The Valencian family of Guillen was really fecund in men of energy and +cleverness. It is true that with the exception of Father Francisco +Guillen and of his nephew Juan Fort, none of them became known; but in +spite of the fact that the members of this family lived in obscurity in +a humble sphere, they performed deeds of unheard-of valour, daring, and +impertinence. + +Juan Guillen, the first of the Guillens whose memory is preserved, was a +highwayman of Villanueva. + +What motives for vengeance Juan Guillen had against the Peyro family is +not known. The old folk of the period, two or three who are still alive, +always say that these Peyros devoted themselves to usury; and there is +some talk of a certain sister of Juan Guillen's, ruined by one of the +Peyros, whom they made disappear from the town. + +Whatever the motive was, the fact is that one day Peyro, the father, and +his eldest son were found, full of bullet holes, in an orange orchard. + +Juan Guillen was arrested; in court he affirmed his innocence with great +tenacity; but after he had been sentenced to ten years' imprisonment, he +said that there were still two Peyros left to kill, whom he would put +off until he got out of prison. + +As it turned out, Guillen was set free after six years and returned to +Villanueva. The two threatened Peyros did their utmost to keep away from +the revengeful Guillen; but it did not work. Juan Guillen killed one +of the Peyros while he was watering the flowers in the balcony of his +house. The other took refuge in a remote farm-house rented to peasants +in his confidence. This man, who was very crafty, always took great +precautions about all the people that came there, and never forgot to +close the doors and windows at night. + +One morning he was found in bed with his head shot to pieces by a +blunderbuss. No doubt death overtook him while he slept. It was said +that Guillen had got in down the chimney, and going close to where Peyro +lay asleep, had fired the blunderbuss right against him. Then he had +gone tranquilly out by the door, without anybody's daring to stop him. + +These two last deaths did not cause Guillen any trouble with the law. +All the witnesses in the suit testified in his favour. When the trial +was over, Guillen arranged to stay and live tranquilly in Villanueva. + +There was a highwayman in the town, who levied small sums on the farms +for cleaning young sneak-thieves out of the country, and for escorting +rich persons when they travelled; Guillen requested him to give up his +job and he did not offer the least resistance. + +Juan Guillen married a peasant-girl, bought a truck-garden, and a +wine-cave, had several children, and was one of the most respectable +highwaymen in the district. He was the terror of the country, +particularly to evil-doers; for him there were neither scruples nor +perils; might was always right; his only limitation his blunderbuss. + +To live in a continual state of war seemed to him a natural condition. +Half in earnest, half in jest, it is told of the truck-gardeners of +Valencia that the father always says to his wife or his daughter, when +he is going to have an interview with somebody: + +"Bring me my pistol, sweetheart, I am going out to talk to a man." + +To Guillen it seemed indispensable that he should carry his blunderbuss +when discussing an affair with anybody. + +Juan's energy did not diminish with age; he kept on being as barbarous +and brutal as when he was young. His barbarity did not prevent his being +very fine and polite, because he was under the conviction that his life +was a well-nigh exemplary life. + + + +TENDER-HEARTED VICENTA + +Of the highwayman's children, the eldest son studied for the priesthood, +and the youngest daughter, Vicenta, got ruined. + +"I should prefer to have her a man and in the penitentiary," Guillen +used to say. Which was not at all strange, because for the highwayman +the penitentiary was like a school of determination and manhood. + +Vicenta, the highwayman's youngest daughter, was a blond girl, noisy +and restless, of a violent character that was proof against advice, +reprimands, and beatings. + +Vicenta had various beaux, all gentlemen, in spite of her father's +opposition and his cane. None of these young gentlemen beaux dared to +carry the girl off to Valencia, which was what she wanted, for fear of +the highwayman and his blunderbuss. + +So she made arrangements with an old woman, a semi-Celestina who turned +up in town, and in her company ran off to Valencia. + +The father roared like a wounded lion and swore by all the saints in +heaven to take a terrible revenge; he went to the capital several times +with the intention of dragging his daughter back home bodily; but he +could not find her. + +Vicenta Guillen, who was known in Valencia,--for what reason is not +evident,--as the Tender-hearted, had her ups and her downs, rich lovers +and poor, and was distinguished by her boldness and her spirit of +adventure. It was said of her that she had taken part, dressed as a man, +in several popular disturbances. + + + +THE MONK + +While the Tender-hearted was leading a life of scandal, her brother, +Francisco, was studying in the College of the Escolapians in the +village, and afterwards entered the Seminary at Tortosa. He did not +distinguish himself there by his intelligence or by his good conduct; +but by force of time and recommendations he succeeded in getting +ordained and saying mass at Villanueva. His father's restless blood +boiled in him: he was a rowdy, brutal and quarrelsome. As life in the +village was uncomfortable for him, he went to America, ready to change +his profession. He could not have found wide prospects among the laity, +for after a few months he took the vows, and ten or twelve years later +he returned to Spain, the Superior of his Order, and went to a monastery +in the province of Castellon. + +Francisco Guillen had changed his name, and was now called Fray Jose de +Calasanz de Villanueva. + +If Fray Jose de Calasanz, on his return from America, had not learned +much theology, at any rate he had learned more about life than in the +early years of his priesthood, and had turned into a cunning hypocrite. +His passions were of extraordinary violence, and despite his ability in +concealing them, he could not altogether hide his underlying barbarity. + +His name figured several times, in a scandalous manner, along with the +name of a certain farmer's wife, who was a bit weak in the head. + +These pieces of gossip, though they gave him a bad reputation with the +town people, did not prevent him from advancing in his career, for +pretty soon, and no one quite knew for what reason, he was found to have +acquired importance and to wield influence of decisive weight, not only +in the Order, but among the whole clerical element of the city. + +At the same time that Father Jose de Calasanz was becoming so +successful, the Tender-hearted took to the path of virtue and got +married at Valencia to the proprietor of a little grocery shop in a lane +near the market, his name being Antonio Fort. + +The Tender-hearted, once married, wrote to her brother to get him to +make her father forgive her. The monk persuaded the old bandit, and the +Tender-hearted went to Villanueva to receive the paternal pardon. The +Tender-hearted, being married, lived an apparently retired and +devout life. Her husband was a poor devil of not much weight. The +Tender-hearted gave a great impetus to the shop. After she began to run +the establishment there was always a great influx of priests and monks +recommended by her brother. + +Some of them used to gather in the back-shop toward dusk for +a _tertulia_, and it was said that one of the members of the +_tertulia_,--a youthful little priest from Murcia,--had an understanding +with the landlady. + +The priests' _tertulia_ at Fort's shop was a well-spring of riches and +prosperity for the business. The little nuns of such-and-such a convent +advised the ladies they knew to buy chocolate and sweets at Fort's; the +friars of another convent gave them an order for sugar or cinnamon, and +cash poured into the drawer. + +The Tender-hearted had three children: Juan, Jeronimo, and Isabel. + +When the two elder were of an age to begin their education, Father Jose +de Calasanz made a visit in Valencia. + +Father Jose had a powerful influence among the clergy, and he offered +his support to his sister in case she found it well to dedicate one of +her sons to the church. + +The Tender-hearted, who beginning to have great ambitions, considered +that of her two sons, Juan, the elder, was the more serious and +diligent, and she did not vacillate about sacrificing him to her +ambitions. + + + +JUAN FORT + +Juan Fort was a boy of energy, very decided, although not very +intelligent. His uncle, Fray Jose de Calasanz, when he knew him, grew +fond of him. Fray Jose enjoyed great esteem in the Order that is +called,--nobody knows whether it is in irony,--the Seraphic Order. Fray +Jose consulted several competent persons and they advised him to send +his nephew to study outside of Spain. It is known that among her +ministers the Church prefers men without a country. Catholicism means +universality, and the real Catholic has no other country than his +religion, no other capital but Rome. + +Juan Fort, snatched from among his comrades and from the bosom of his +family, went weeping in his uncle's company to France, and entered the +convent of Mont-de-Marson to pursue his studies. + +In this convent he made his monastic novitiate, and like all the +individuals of that Order, changed his name, being called from then on, +Father Vicente de Valencia. + +From Mont-de-Marson he passed to Toulouse, and when two years were up, +he made a short stay in the monastery where his uncle was prior, and +went to Rome. + +When the Tender-hearted went to embrace her son, on his passage through +Valencia, she could see that his affection for her had vanished. As +happens with nearly all the young men that enter a religious Order, Juan +Fort felt a deep antipathy for his family and for his native town. + +The young Father Vicente de Valencia entered the convent of Aracceli at +Rome, and continued his studies there. + +This was at the beginning of Leo XIII's pontificate. At that epoch +certain naive elements in the Eternal City tried to initiate anti-Jesuit +politics inside the Church. Liberals and Ultramontanists struggled in +the darkness, in the periodicals, and in the universities. + +It was a phenomenon of this struggle,--which seems paradoxical,--that +the partisans of tradition were the most liberal, and the partisans of +Modernism the Ultramontanists. The lesser clergy and certain Cardinals +felt vaguely liberal, and were searching for that something Christian, +which, as people say, still remains in Catholicism. On the other hand, +the Congregations, and above all the Jesuits, gave the note of radical +Ultramontanism. + +The sons of Loyola had solved the culinary problem of making a +meat-stew without meat; the Jesuits were making their Company the most +anti-Christian of the Societies in the silent partnership. + +In Rome the prime defender of Ultramontanism had been the Abbe Perrone, +an eloquent professor, whom the pressure of the traditional theologians +obliged to read, before giving a lecture, a chapter of Saint Thomas on +the point in question. Perrone, after offering, with gnashing of teeth, +this tribute to tradition, used to say proudly: "And now, let us forget +these old saws and get along." + +Father Vicente de Valencia enrolled himself among the supporters of the +Perronean Ultramontanism, and became, as was natural, considering his +character, a furious authoritarian. This sombre man, whose vocation was +repugnant to him, who had not the least religious feeling, who could +perhaps have been a good soldier, took a long time to make himself +perfectly at home in monastic life, struggled against the chains that +chafed him, rebelled inwardly, and at last, not only did not succeed in +breaking his fetters, but even considered them his one happiness. + +Little by little he dominated his rebelliousness, and he made himself a +great worker and a tireless intriguer. + +The fruits of his will were great, greater than those of his intellect. + +Father Vicente wrote a theological treatise in Latin, rather uncouth, +so the intellectual said, and which had the sole distinction of +representing the most rabid of reactionary tendencies. + +_The Theological Commentaries of Father Vicente de Valencia_ did not +attract the attention of the men who follow the sport of occupying +themselves with such things, whether or no; the presses did not groan +printing criticisms of the book; but the Society of Jesus took note of +the author and assisted Fort with all its power. + +A fanatic and a man of mediocre intelligence, that monk might perhaps be +a considerable force in the hands of the Society. + +A short while after the publication of his _Commentaries_, Father +Vicente accompanied the general of his Order on a canonical visit to +the monasteries in Spain, France, and Italy; later he was appointed +successively Visitor General for Spain, Consultor of the monastic +province of Valencia, Definer of the Order, and a voting councillor in +the government of the Order. + +The news of these honours reached the Fort family in vague form; the +haughty monk gave no account of his successes. He considered himself to +be without a country and without a family. + + + +THE CARDINAL'S NEPHEW AND NIECE + +The Tender-hearted died without having the consolation of seeing her +son again; Jeronimo Fort, the youngest child, became head of the shop, +Isabel married a soldier, Carlos Moncada, with whom she went to live in +Madrid. + +Isabel Fort lived there a long time without remembering her monk +brother, until she learned, to her great surprise, that they had made +him a Cardinal. + +Father Vicente left off calling himself that and changed into Cardinal +Fort. The darkness that surrounded him turned to light, and his figure +stood out strongly. + +"Cardinale Forte," they called him in Rome. He was known to be one of +the persons that guided the Vatican camarilla, and one of those who +impelled Leo XIII to rectify the slightly liberal policy of the first +years of his pontificate. + +Cardinal Fort filled high posts. He was a Consultor in the Congregation +of Bishops and Regulars, afterwards in that of Rites and in that of the +Holy Office, and on special occasions was confessor to Leo XIII. + +Certainly having a Cardinal in the family is something that makes a +showing; and Isabel, as soon as she knew it, wrote by the advice of the +family, to her brother, so as to renew relations with him. + +The Cardinal replied, expressing interest in her husband and her +children. Isabel sent him their pictures, and phrases of affection were +cordially interchanged. + +After that they kept on writing to each other, and in one letter the +Cardinal invited Isabel to come to Rome. She hesitated; but her +husband convinced her that she ought to accept the invitation. They all +of them went, and the Cardinal received them very affectionately. + +Juan Fort was living at that time in a monastery, like the other monks. +He enjoyed an enormous influence in Rome and in Spain. Isabel wanted her +husband promoted, and the Cardinal obtained that in a moment. + +Then Fort talked to his sister of the propriety of dedicating Caesar to +the Church. He would enter the College of Nobles, then he would pass to +the Nunciature, and in a short while he would be a potentate. + +Dona Isabel told this to her husband; but the idea didn't please him. +They talked among themselves, they discussed it, and the small boy, then +twelve years old, settled the question himself, saying that he would +kill himself rather than be a priest or a monk, because he was a +Republican. + +The Cardinal was not enthusiastic over this rebellious youngster who +dared to speak out what he, in his childhood, would not have been bold +enough to insinuate; but if Caesar did not appeal to him, on the other +hand he was very much taken with Laura's beauty and charm. + +The Moncada family returned to Spain after spending some months in Rome. +Two years later Dona Isabel's husband died, and she, recalling the +offers of her brother, the Cardinal, left Caesar in an Escolapian +college in Madrid, and went to Rome, taking Laura with her. + +The Cardinal, in the meanwhile, had changed his position and his +domicile; he was now living in the Palazzo Altemps in the Via di S. +Apellinare, and leading a more sumptuous life. + +They reproached him in Rome for his exclusiveness and at the same time +for his tendency to ostentation. They said that if he was silent about +himself, it was not through modesty, but because that is the best method +to arrive at being a candidate for the tiara. + +They added that he was very fond of showing himself in his red robes, +and in fine carriages, and this ostentatious taste was explained among +the Italians by saying: "It's simple enough; he is Spanish." + +Publicly it was said that he was a great theologian, but privately he +was considered a strong man, although of mediocre intelligence. + +"A Fort is always strong," they said of him, making a pun on his name. +"He is one of the Spanish Eminences who rule the Pope," a great English +periodical stated, referring to him. + +On receiving his sister and his niece, the Cardinal put all his +influence with the Black Party in play so that they should be accepted +by the aristocratic society of Rome. He achieved that without much +difficulty. Laura and her mother were naturaly distinguished and +tactful, and they succeeded in forming a circle. + +The Cardinal felt proud of his family; and accompanying the two women +gave him occasion for visiting many people. + +Roman slander calumniated Fort, assuming him to be having a love affair +with his niece. Juan Fort showed an affection for Laura which seemed +unheard of by those that knew him. + +The Cardinal was a man of exuberant pride, and he knew how to control +himself. He felt a great fondness for Laura; but if there was anything +more in this fondness than tranquil fatherly affection, if there was any +passion, only he knew it; the fire lurked very deep in his overshaded +soul. + +Laura made, socially speaking, a good marriage. She married the Marquis +of Vaccarone, a babbling Neapolitan, insubstantial and light. In a short +while, seeing that they were not congenial, she arranged for an amicable +separation and the two lived independent. + + + + +III + +CAESAR MONCADA + +AT THE ESCOLAPIANS + + +Caesar studied in Madrid in an Escolapian college in the Calle de +Hortaleza, where he was an intern all the time he was taking his +bachelor's degree. + +His mother had gone to live in Valencia, after marrying Laura off, +and Caesar passed his vacations with her at a country-place in a +neighbouring village. + +Several times a year Caesar received letters and photographs from his +sister, and one winter Laura came to Valencia. She retained a great +fondness for Caesar; he was fond of her too, although he did not show +it, because his character was little inclined to affectionate expansion. + +At college Caesar showed himself to be a somewhat strange and absurd +youth. As he was slight and of a sickly appearance, the teachers treated +him with a certain consideration. + +One day a teacher noticed that Caesar creaked when he moved, as if his +clothes were starched. + +"What are you wearing?" he asked him. + +"Nothing." + +"Nothing, indeed! Unbutton your jacket." + +Caesar turned very pale and did not unbutton it; but the master, seizing +him by a lapel, unbuttoned his jacket and his waistcoat, and found that +the student was covered with papers. + +"What are these papers? For what purpose are you keeping them here?" + +"He does it," one of his fellow students replied, laughing, "because +he is afraid of catching cold and becoming consumptive." They all made +comments on the boy's eccentricity, and a few days later, to show that +he was not a coward, he tried to go out on the balcony on a cold winter +night, with his chest bare. + +Among his fellow-students Caesar had an intimate friend, Ignacio +Alzugaray, to whom he confided and explained his prejudices and doubts. +Alzugaray was not a boarder, but a day-scholar. + +Ignacio brought anti-clerical periodicals to school, which Caesar read +with enthusiasm. His sojourn in a religious college was producing a +frantic hatred for priests in young Moncada. + +Caesar was remarkable for the rapidity of his decisions and the lack of +vacillation in his opinions. He felt no timidity about either affirming +or denying. + +His convictions were absolute; when he believed in the exact truth of a +thing, he did not vacillate, he did not go back and discuss it; but if +his belief faltered, then he changed his opinion radically and went +ahead stating the contrary of his previous statements, without +recollecting his abandoned ideas. + +His other fellow-students did not care about discussions with a lad who +appeared to have a monopoly of the truth. + +"Professor So-and-So is a beast; What-you-call-him is a talented chap; +that fellow is a thick-witted chap. This kid is all right; that one is +not." + +In this rail-splitting manner did young Moncada announce his decisions, +as if he held the secret explanation of all things tight between his +fingers. + +Alzugaray seldom shared his friend's opinions; but in spite of this +divergence they understood each other very well. + +Alzugaray came of a modest family; his mother, the widow of a government +clerk, lived on her pension and on the income from some property they +owned in the North. + +Ignacio Alzugaray was very fond of his mother and his sister, and was +always talking about them. Caesar alone would listen without being +impatient to the meticulous narratives Ignacio told about the things +that happened at home. + +Alzugaray was of a very Catholic and very Carlist family; but like +Caesar, he was beginning to protest against such ideas and to show +himself Liberal, Republican, and even Anarchistic. Ignacio Alzugaray was +a nephew of Carlos Yarza, the Spanish author, who lived in Paris, and +who had taken part in the Commune and in the Insurrection of Cartagena. + +Caesar, on hearing Alzugaray recount the doings of his uncle Carlos +Yarza various times, said to his fellow-student: + +"When I get out of this college, the first thing I am going to do is to +go to Paris to talk with your uncle." + +"What for?" + +"I have to talk to him." + +As a matter of fact, once his course was finished, Caesar left the +college, took a third-class ticket, went to Paris, and from there wrote +to his mother informing her what he had done. Carlos Yarza, Alzugaray's +uncle, received him very affectionately. He took him to dine and +explained a good many things. Caesar asked the old man no end of +questions and listened to him with real avidity. + +Carlos Yarza was at that time an employee in a bank. At this epoch his +forte was for questions of speculation. He had put his mind and his will +to the study of these matters and had the glimmering of a system in +things where everybody else saw only contingencies without any possible +law. + +Caesar accompanied Yarza to the Bourse and was amazed and stirred at +seeing the enormous activity there. + +Yarza cleared away the innumerable doubts that occurred to the boy. + +In the short time Caesar spent in Paris he came to a most important +conclusion, which was that in this life one had to fight terribly to get +anywhere. + +One day, on awakening in the shabby little room where he lodged, he +found that the arms of a very smart woman were around his neck. It was +Laura, very contented and joyful to surprise her madcap brother. + +"Mamma is alarmed," Laura told him. "What are you doing here all this +time? Are you in love?" "I? Bah!" + +"Then what have you been doing?" + +"I've been going to the Bourse." + + + +SOUNDING-LINES IN LIFE + +Laura burst out laughing, and she accompanied her brother back to +Valencia. Caesar's mother wished the lad to take his law course there, +but Caesar decided to do it in Madrid. + +"A provincial capital is an insupportable place," he said. + +Caesar went to Madrid and rented a study and a bed-room, cheap and +unrestricted. + +He boarded in one house and lodged at another. Thus he felt more free. + +Caesar believed that it was not worth the trouble to study law +seriously; and he imagined moreover that to study so many routine +conceptions, which may be false, such as the conception of the soul, of +equity, of responsibility, etc., would bring him to a shyster lawyer's +vulgar and affected idea of life. To counteract this tendency he devoted +himself to studying zoology at the University, and the next year he took +a course in physiology at San Carlos. + +At the same time he did not neglect the stock exchange; his great pride +was to acquaint himself thoroughly with the details of the speculations +made and to talk in the crowds. + +As a student he was mediocre. He learned the secret of passing +examinations well with the minimum of effort, and practised it. He +found that by knowing only a couple of things under each heading of the +program, it was enough for him to answer and to pass well. And so, from +the beginning of each course, he marked in the text the two or three +lines of every page which seemed to him to comprise the essential, and +having learned those, considered his knowledge sufficient. + +Caesar had a deep contempt for the University and for his +fellow-students; all their rows and manifestations seemed to him +repulsively flat and stupid. + +Alzugaray was studying law too, and had obtained a clerkship in a +Ministry. Alzugaray got drunk on music. His great enthusiasm was for +playing the 'cello. Caesar used to call on him at his office and at +home. + +The clerks at the Ministry seemed to Caesar to form part of an inferior +human race. + +At Alzugaray's house, Caesar felt at home. Ignacio's mother, a lady with +white hair, was always making stockings, and after dinner she recited +the rosary with the maid; Alzugaray's sister, Celedonia, a tall ungainly +lass, was often ill. + +All the family thought a great deal of Caesar; his advice was followed +at that house, and one of the operations on 'change that he recommended +making with some Foreign bonds that Ignacio's mother was holding at the +time of the Cuban War, gave everybody in the house an extraordinary idea +of young Moncada's financial talents. + +Caesar kept his balance among his separate activities; one set of +studies complemented others. This diversity of points of view kept him +from taking the false and one-sided position that those who preoccupy +themselves with one branch of knowledge exclusively get into. + +The one-sided position is most useful to a specialist, to a man who +expects to remain satisfied in the place where chance has put him; but +it is useless for one who proposes to enter life with his blood afire. + +As almost always occurs, the projecting of ideas of distinct derivation +and of different orders into the same plane, carried Caesar into +absolute scepticism, scepticism about things, and especially scepticism +about the instrument of knowledge. + +His negation had no reference,--far from it,--to women, to love, or +to friends, things where the pedantic and ostentatious scepticism of +literary men of the Larra type usually finds its fodder; his nihilism +was much more the confusion and discomposure of one that explores a +region well or badly, and finds no landmarks there, no paths, and +returns with a belief that even the compass is not exact in what it +shows. + +"Nothing absolute exists," Caesar told himself, "neither science nor +mathematics nor even the truth, can be an absolute thing." + +Arriving at this result surprised Caesar a good deal. On finding that he +was not successful in lighting on a philosophical system which would be +a guide to him and which could be reasoned out like a theorem, he sought +within the purely subjective for something that might satisfy him and +serve as a standard. + + + +A PHILOSOPHY + +Toward the end of their course Caesar presented himself one day in his +friend Alzugaray's office. + +"I think," he said, "that I am getting my philosophy into shape." + +"My dear man!" + +"Yes. I have tacked some new contours on to my Darwinian pragmatism." + +Alzugaray, in whom every treasure-trove of his friend's always produced +great surprise, stood staring naively at him. + +"Yes, I am building up my system," Caesar went on, "a system within +relative truth. It is clear." + +"Let's hear what it is." + +"In regard to us," said Caesar, as if he were speaking of something +that had happened in the street a few minutes before, "our uncertain +instrument of knowledge makes two apparent states of nature seem real to +us; one, the static, in which things are perceived by us as motionless; +the other, the dynamic, wherein these same things are found in motion. +It is clear that in reality everything is in motion; but within the +relative truth of our ideas we are able to believe that there are some +things in repose and others in action. Isn't that so?" + +"Yes. That is, I think so," replied Alzugaray, who was beginning to +wonder if the whole earth was trembling under his feet. + +"Good!" Caesar continued. "I am going to pass from nature to life: I +am going to assume that life has a purpose. Where can this purpose be +found? We don't know. But what can be the machinery of this purpose? +Only movement, action. That is to say, struggle. This assertion once +made, I am going to take a hand in carrying it out. The things we call +spiritual also are dynamic. Who says anything whatsoever says matter and +force; who says force affirms attraction and repulsion; attraction and +repulsion are synonymous with movement, with struggle, with action. Now +I am inside of my system. It will consist of putting all the forces near +me into movement, into action, into struggle. What pleasure may there be +in this? First, the pleasure of doing, the pleasure, we might call +it, of efficiency; secondly, the pleasure of seeing, the pleasure of +observing.... What do you think of it?" + +"Fine, man! The things you start are always good." "Then there is the +moral point. I think I have settled that too." + +"That too?" + +"Yes. Morals should be nothing more than the true, fitting, and natural +law of man. Man considered solely as a spiritual machine? No. Considered +as an animal that eats and drinks? Not that either. Man considered as a +complete whole. Isn't that so?" + +"I believe it is." + +"I proceed. In nature laws become more obscure, according as more +complicated objects of knowledge turn up. We all clearly see the law +of the triangle, and the law of oxygen or of carbon with the same +clearness. These laws appear to us as being without exception. But then +comes the mineral, and we begin to see variations; in this form it +exerts one attraction, in that form a different one. We ascend to +the vegetable and find a sort of surprise-package. The surprises are +centupled in the animal; and are raised to an unknown degree in man. +What is the law of man, as man? We do not know it, probably we shall +never know it. Right and justice may be truths, but they will always +be fractional truths. Traditional morality is a pragmatism, useful and +efficacious for social life, for well-ordered life; but at the bottom, +without reality. Summing all this up: first, life is a labyrinth +which has no Ariadne's thread but one,--action; secondly, man is upheld +in his high qualities by force and struggle. Those are my conclusions." + +"Clever devil! I don't know what to say to you." + +Alzugaray asserted that, without taking it upon him to say whether his +friend's ideas were good or bad, they had no practical value; but +Caesar insisted once and many times on the advantages he saw in his +metaphysics. + + + +ENCHIRIDION SAPIENTIAE + +Caesar remained in the same sphere during the whole period of his law +course, always seeking, according to his own words, to add one wheel +more to his machine. + +His life contained few incidents; summers he went to Valencia, and +there, in the villa, he read and talked with the peasants. His mother, +devoted solely to the Church, bothered herself little about her son. + +Caesar ended his studies, and on his coming of age, they gave him his +share of his father's estate. + +Incontinently he took the train, he went to Paris, he looked up Yarza. +He explained to him his vague projects of action. Yarza listened +attentively, and said: + +"Perhaps it will appear foolish to you, but I am going to give you a +book I wrote, which I should like you to read. It's called _Enchiridion +Sapientiae_. In my youth I was something of a Latinist. In these pages, +less than a hundred, I have gathered my observations about the financial +and political world. It might as well be called _Contribution to +Common-sense, or Neo-Machiavellianism_. If you find that it helps you, +keep it." + +Caesar read the book with concentrated attention. + +"How did it strike you?" said Yarza. + +"There are many things in it I don't agree with; I shall have to think +over them again." + +"All right. Then keep my _Enchiridion_ and go on to London. Paris is a +city that has finished. It is not worth the trouble of losing one's time +staying here." + +Caesar went to London, always with the firm intention of going into +something. From time to time he wrote a long letter to Ignacio +Alzugaray, telling him his impressions of politics and financial +questions. + +While he was in London his sister joined him and invited him to go to +Florence; two years later she begged him to accompany her to Rome. +Caesar had always declined to visit the Eternal City, until, on that +occasion, he himself showed a desire to go to Rome with his sister. + + + + +IV + +PEOPLE WHO PASS CLOSE BY + +_THE SAN MARTINO YOUNG LADIES_ + +Arrived at Rome, Laura and Caesar went up to the hotel, and were +received by a bald gentleman with a pointed moustache, who showed them +into a large round salon with a very high ceiling. + +It was a theatrical salon, with antique furniture and large red-velvet +arm-chairs with gilded legs. The enormous mirrors, somewhat tarnished +by age, made the salon appear even larger. On the consoles and cabinets +gleamed objects of majolica and porcelain. + +The big window of this salon opened on the Piazza Esedra di Termini. +Caesar and Laura looked out through the glass. It was beginning to rain +again; the great semi-circular extent of the square was shining with +rain. + +The passing trams slipped around the curve in the track; a caravan of +tourists in ten or twelve carriages in file, all with their umbrellas +open, were preparing to visit the monuments of Rome; strolling pedlars +were showing them knick-knacks and religious gewgaws. + +Caesar's and Laura's rooms were got ready and the manager of the hotel +asked them again if they had need of nothing else. + +"What are you going to do?" said Laura to her brother. + +"I am going to stretch myself out in bed for a while." + +"Lunch at half-past twelve." + +"Good, I will get up at that time." + +"Good-bye, _bambino_. Have a good rest. Put on your black suit to come +to the table." + +"Very well." Caesar stretched himself on the bed, slept off and on, +somewhat feverish from fatigue, and at about twelve he woke at the noise +they made in bringing his luggage into the room. He got up to open the +trunks, washed and dressed, and when the customary gong resounded, he +presented himself in the salon. + +Laura was chatting with two young ladies and an older lady, the Countess +of San Martino and her daughters. They were in Rome for the season and +lived regularly in Venice. + +Laura introduced her brother to these ladies, and the Countess pressed +Caesar's hand between both of hers, very affectionately. + +The Countess was tiny and dried-up: a mummy with the face of a +grey-hound, her skin close to her bones, her lips painted, little +penetrating blue eyes, and great vivacity in her movements. She dressed +in a showy manner; wore jewels on her bosom, on her head, on her +fingers. + +The daughters looked like two little blond princesses: with rosy cheeks, +eyebrows like two golden brush-strokes, almost colourless, clear blue +eyes of a heavenly blue, and such small red lips, that on seeing them, +the classical simile of cherries came at once to one's mind. + +The Countess of San Martino asked Caesar like a shot if he was married +and if he hadn't a sweetheart. Caesar replied that he was a bachelor and +that he had no sweetheart, and then the Countess came back by asking if +he felt no vocation for matrimony. + +"No, I believe I don't," responded Caesar. + +The two young women smiled, and their mother said, with truly diverting +familiarity, that men were becoming impossible. Afterwards she added +that she was anxious for her daughters to marry. + +"When one of these children is married and has a _bambino_, I shall be +more contented! If God sent me a _cheru-bino del cielo_, I shouldn't be +more so." + +Laura laughed, and one of the little blondes remarked with aristocratic +indifference: "Getting married comes first, mamma." + +To this the Countess of San Martino observed that she didn't understand +the behaviour of girls nowadays. + +"When I was a young thing, I always had five or six beaux at once; +but my daughters haven't the same idea. They are so indifferent, so +superior!" + +"It seems that you two don't take all the notice you should," said +Caesar to the girls in French. + +"You see what a mistake it is," answered one of them, smiling. + +The last round of the gong sounded and various persons entered the +salon. Laura knew the majority of them and introduced them, as they +came, to her brother. + + + +_OBSERVATIONS BY CAESAR_ + +The waiter appeared at the door, announced that lunch was ready, and +they all passed into the dining-room. + +Laura and her brother were installed at a small table beside the window. + +The dining-room, very large and very high, flaunted decorations copied +from some palace. They consisted of a tapestry with garlands of flowers, +and medallions. In each medallion were the letters S.P.Q.R. and various +epicurean phrases of the Romans: "_Carpe diem. Post mortem nulla +voluptas_," et cetera. + +"Beautiful decoration, but very cold," said Caesar. "I should prefer +rather fewer mottoes and a little more warmth." + +"You are very hard to please," retorted Laura. + +Shortly after getting seated, everybody began to talk from table to +table and even from one end of the room to the other. There was none of +that classic coolness among the people in the hotel which the English +have spread everywhere, along with underdone meat and bottled sauces. + +Caesar devoted himself for the first few moments to ethnology. + +"Even from the people you find here, you can see that there is a great +diversity of ethnic type in Italy," he said to Laura. "That blond boy +and the Misses San Martino are surely of Saxon origin; the waiter, on +the other hand, swarthy like that, is a Berber." + +"Because the blond boy and the San Martines are from the North, and the +waiter must be Neapolitan or Sicilian. + +"Besides, there is still another type: shown by that dark young woman +over there, with the melancholy air. She must be a Celtic type. What +is obvious is that there is great liveliness in these people, great +elegance in their movements. They are like actors giving a good +performance." + +Caesar's observations were interrupted by the arrival of a dark, plump +woman, who came in from the street, accompanied by her daughter, a blond +girl, fat, smiling, and a bit timid. + +This lady and Laura bowed with much ceremony. + +"Who is she?" asked Caesar in a low tone. + +"It is the Countess Brenda," said Laura. + +"Another countess! But are all the women here countesses?" + +"Don't talk nonsense." + +At the other end of the dining-room a young Neapolitan with the +expression of a Pulcinella and violent gestures, raised his sing-song +voice, talking very loud and making everybody laugh. + +After lunching, Caesar went out to post some cards, and as it was +raining buckets, he took refuge in the arcades of the Piazza Esedra. + +When he was tired of walking he returned to the hotel, went to his room, +turned on the light, and started to continue his unfinished perusal of +Proudhon's book on the speculator. + +And while he read, there came from the salon the notes of a Tzigane +waltz played on the piano. + + + +_ART, FOR DECEIVED HUSBANDS_ + +Caesar was writing something on the margin of a page when there came a +knock at his door. "Come in," said Caesar. + +It was Laura. + +"Where are you keeping yourself?" she asked. + +"Here I am, reading a little." + +"But my dear man, we are waiting for you." + +"What for?" + +"The idea, what for? To talk." + +"I don't feel like talking. I am very tired." + +"But, _bambino; Benedetto_. Are you going to live your life avoiding +everybody?" + +"No; I will come out tomorrow." + +"What do you want to do tonight?" + +"Tonight! Nothing." + +"Don't you want to go to the theatre?" + +"No, no; I have a tremendously weak pulse, and a little fever. My hands +are on fire at this moment." + +"What foolishness!" + +"It's true." + +"So then you won't come out?" + +"No." + +"All right. As you wish." + +"When the weather is good, I will go out." + +"Do you want me to fetch you a Baedeker?" + +"No, I have no use for it." + +"Don't you intend to look at the sights, either?" + +"Yes, I will look willingly at what comes before my eyes; it wouldn't +please me if the same thing happened to me that took place in Florence." + +"What happened to you in Florence?" + +"I lost my time lamentably, getting enthusiastic over Botticelli, +Donatello, and a lot of other foolishness, and when I got back to London +it cost me a good deal of work to succeed in forgetting those things and +getting myself settled in my financial investigations again. So that +now I have decided to see nothing except in leisure moments and without +attaching any importance to all those fiddle-faddles." "But what +childishness! Is it going to distract you so much from your work, from +that serious work you have in hand, to go and see a few pictures or some +statues?" + +"To see them, no, not exactly; but to occupy myself with them, yes. +Art is a good thing for those who haven't the strength to live, in +realities. It is a good form of sport for old maids, for deceived +husbands who need consolation, as hysterical persons need morphine...." + +"And for strong people like you, what is there?" asked Laura, +ironically. + +"For strong people!... Action." + +"And you call lying in bed, reading, action?" + +"Yes, when one reads with the intentions I read with." + +"And what are they? What is it you are plotting?" + +"I will tell you." + +Laura saw that she could not convince her brother, and returned to the +salon. A moment before dinner was announced Caesar got dressed again in +black, put on his patent-leather shoes, looked at himself offhandedly in +the mirror, saw that he was all right, and joined his sister. + + + + +V + +THE ABBE PRECIOZI + +_THE BIG BIRDS IN ROME_ + + +The next day Caesar awoke at nine, jumped out of bed, and went to +breakfast. Laura had left word that she would not eat at home. Caesar +took an umbrella and went out into the street. The weather was very dark +but it held off from rain. + +Caesar took the Via Nazionale toward the centre of town. Among the +crowd, some foreigners with red guide-books in their hands, were walking +with long strides to see the sights of Rome, which the code of worldly +snobbishness considers it indispensable to admire. + +Caesar had no settled goal. On a plan of the city, hung in a newspaper +kiosk, he found the situation of the Piazza Esedra, the hotel and the +adjacent streets, and continued slowly ahead. + +"How many people there must be who are excited and have an irregular +pulse on arriving for the first time in one of these historic towns," +thought Caesar. "I, for my part, was in that situation the first time I +clearly understood the mechanism of the London Exchange." + +Caesar continued down the Via Nazionale and stopped in a small square +with a little garden and a palm. Bounding the square on one side arose +a greenish wall, and above this wall, which was adorned with statues, +stretched a high garden with magnificent trees, and among them a great +stone pine. + +"A beautiful garden to walk in," said Caesar. "Perhaps it is an historic +spot, perhaps it isn't. I am very happy that I don't know either its +name or its history, if it really has one." From the same point in the +Via Nazionale, a street with flights of steps could be seen to the left, +and below a white stone column. + +"Nothing doing; I don't know what that is either," thought Caesar; "the +truth is that one is terribly ignorant. To make matters even, what a +well of knowledge about questions of finance there is in my cranium!" + +Caesar continued on to the Piazza Venezia, contemplated the palace of +the Austrian Embassy, yellow, battlemented; and stopped under a big +white umbrella, stuck up to protect the switchman of the tramway. + +"Here, at least, the weight of tradition or history is not noticeable. I +don't believe this canvas is a piece of Brutus's tunic, or of Pompey's +campaign tent. I feel at home here; this canvas modernizes me." + +The square was very animated at that moment: groups of seminarians were +passing in robes of black, red, blue, violet, and sashes of contrasting +colours; monks of all sorts were crossing, smooth-shaven, bearded, in +black, white, brown; foreign priests were conversing in groups, wearing +little dishevelled hats adorned with a tassel; horrible nuns with +moustaches and black moles, and sweet little white nuns, with a +coquettish air. + +The clerical fauna was admirably represented. A Capuchin friar, +long-bearded and dirty, with the air of a footpad, and an umbrella by +way of a blunderbuss or musket under his arm, was talking to a Sister of +Charity. + +"Undoubtedly religion is a very picturesque thing," murmured Caesar. "A +spectacular impressario would not have the imagination to think out all +these costumes." + +Caesar took the Corso. Before he reached the Piazza Colonna it began to +rain. The coachmen took out enormous umbrellas, all rolled up, opened +them and stood them in iron supports, in such a way that the box-seat +was as it were under a campaign tent. + +Caesar took refuge in the entrance to a bazaar. The rain began to assume +the proportions of a downpour. An old friar, with a big beard, a white +habit, and a hood, armed with an untamable umbrella, attempted to cross +the square. The umbrella turned inside out in the gusts of wind, and his +beard seemed to be trying to get away from his face. + +"Pavero frate!" said one of the crowd, smiling. + +A priest passed hidden under an umbrella. A tough among the refugees in +the bazaar-doorway said that you couldn't tell if it was a woman or a +priest, and the cleric, who no doubt heard the remark, threw a severe +and threatening look at the group. + +It stopped raining, and Caesar continued his walk along the Corso. He +went a bit out of his way to throw a glance at the Piazza di Spagna. +The great stairway in that square was shining, wet with the rain; a few +seminarians in groups were going up the steps toward the Pincio. + +Caesar arrived at the Piazza del Popolo and stopped near some +ragamuffins who were playing a game, throwing coins in the air. A +tattered urchin had written with charcoal on a wall: "Viva Musolino!" +and below that he was drawing a heart pierced by two daggers. + +"Very good," murmured Caesar. "This youngster is like me: an advocate of +action." + +It began to rain again; Caesar decided to turn back. He took the same +route and entered a cafe on the Corso for lunch. The afternoon turned +out magnificent and Caesar went wandering about at random. + + + +_THE CICERONE_ + +At twilight he returned to his inn, changed, and went to the salon. +Laura was conversing with a young abbe. "The Abbe Preciozi.... My +brother Caesar." + +The Abbe Preciozi was one of the household of Cardinal Fort, who had +sent him to the hotel to act as cicerone to his nephew. + +"Uncle has sent the abbe so that he can show you Rome." "Oh, many +thanks!" answered Caesar. "I will make use of his knowledge; but I +don't want him to neglect his occupations or to put himself out on my +account." "No, no. I am at your disposition," replied the abbe, "His +Eminence has given me orders to wait on you, and it will not put me out +in the least." + +"You will have dinner with us, Preciozi?" said Laura. + +"Oh, Marchesa! Thank you so much!" + +And the abbe bowed ceremoniously. + +The three dined together, and afterwards went to the salon to chat. +One of the San Martino young ladies played the viola and the other the +piano, and people urged them to exhibit their skill. + +The talkative Neapolitan turned over the pieces of music in the +music-stand, and after discussing with the two _contessinas_, he placed +on the rack the "Intermezzo" from _Cavalleria Rusticana_. + +The two sisters played, and the listeners made great eulogies about +their ability. + +Laura presented Caesar and the Abbe Preciozi to the Countess Brenda and +to a lady who had just arrived from Malta. + +"Did you know Rome before?" the Countess asked Caesar in French. + +"No." + +"And how does it strike you?" + +"My opinion is of no value," said Caesar. "I am not an artist. Imagine; +my specialty is financial questions. Up to the present what has given me +the greatest shock is to find that Rome has walls." + +"You didn't know it?" asked Laura. + +"No." + +"Dear child, I find that you are very ignorant." + +"What do you wish?" replied Caesar in Spanish. "I am inclined to be +ignorant of everything I don't get anything out of." + +Caesar spoke jokingly of a square like a hole in the ground, out of +which rises a white column similar to the one in Paris in the Place +Vendome. + +"What does he mean? Trajan's column?" asked Preciozi. "It must be," said +Laura. "I have a brother who's a barbarian. Weren't you in the Forum, +too?" + +"Which is the Forum? An open space where there are a lot of stones?" + +"Yes." + +"I passed by there; there were a good many tourists, crowds of young +ladies peering intently into corners and a gentleman with a bag over his +shoulder who was pointing out some columns with an umbrella. Afterwards +I saw a ticket-window. 'That doubtless means that one pays to get in,' I +said, and as the ground was covered with mud and I didn't care to wet my +feet, I asked a young rascal who was selling post-cards what that place +was. I didn't quite understand his explanation, which I am sure was very +amusing. He confused Emperors with the Madonna and the saints. I gave +the lad a lira and had some trouble in escaping from there, because he +followed me around everywhere calling me Excellency." + +"I think Don Caesar is making fun of us," said Preciozi. + +"No, no." + +"But really, how did Rome strike you, on the whole?" asked the abbe. + +"Well, I find it like a mixture of a monumental great city and a +provincial capital." + +"That is possible," responded the abbe. "Undoubtedly the provincial city +is more of a city than the big modern capitals, where there is nothing +to see but fine hotels on one hand and horrible hovels on the other. If +you came from America, like me, you would see how agreeable you would +find the impression of a city that one gets here. To forget all the +geometry, the streets laid out with a compass, the right angles...." + +"Probably so." + +The abbe seemed to have an interest in gaining Caesar's friendship. +Caesar said to him that, if he wished, they could go to his room to chat +and smoke. The abbe accepted with gusto, and Caesar, being a suspicious +person, wondered if the Cardinal might have sent the abbe to find out +what sort of man he was. Then he considered that his ideas must be of no +importance whatsoever to his uncle; but on the chance, he set himself +to throwing the abbe off the scent, talking volubly and emitting +contradictory opinions about everything. + +After chattering a long while and devoting himself to free paradox, +Caesar thought that for the first session he had not done altogether +badly. Preciozi took leave, promising to come back the next day. + +"If he reports our conversation to my uncle, the man won't know what to +think of me," reflected Caesar, on going to bed. "It would not be too +much to expect, if His Eminence became interested and sent to fetch me. +But I don't believe he will; my uncle cannot be intelligent enough to +have the curiosity to know a man like me." + + + + +VI + +THE LITTLE INTERESTS OF THE PEOPLE IN A ROMAN HOTEL + +_INTIMACIES_ + + +During some days the main interest of the people in the hotel was the +growing intimacy established between the Marchesa Sciacca, who was the +lady from Malta, and the Neapolitan with the Pulcinella air, Signor +Carminatti. + +The Maltese must have been haughty and exclusive, to judge from the +queenly air she assumed. Only with the handsome Neapolitan did she +behave amiably. + +In the dining-room the Maltese sat with her two children, a boy and a +girl, at the other end from where Caesar and Laura were accustomed +to sit. At her side, at a table close by, chattered and jested the +diplomatic Carminatti. + +The Marquis of Sciacca was ill with diabetes; he had come to Rome +to take a treatment, and during these days he did not come to the +dining-room. + +The Marchesa was one of those mixed types, unharmonious, common among +mongrel races. Her black hair shone like jet, her lips looked like an +Egyptian's, and her eyes of a very light blue showed off in a curious +way in her bronzed face. She powdered her face, she painted her lips, +she shaded her eyes with kohl. Her appearance was that of a proud, +revengeful woman. + +She ate with much nicety, opening her mouth so little that she could put +no more than the tip of her spoon between her lips; with her children +she talked English and Italian in equal perfection, and when she heard +young Carminatti's facetious remarks she laughed with marked impudence. +Signer Carminatti was tall, with a black moustache, a hooked nose, +well-formed languid eyes, lively and somewhat clownish gestures; he was +at the same time sad and merry, melancholy and smiling, he changed his +expression every moment. He was in the habit of appearing in the salon +in a dinner-jacket, with a large flower in his button-hole and two or +three fat diamonds on his chest. He would come along dragging his feet, +would bow, make a joke, stand mournful; and this fluency of expression, +and these gesticulations, gave him a manner halfway between woman and +child. + +When he grew petulant, especially, he seemed like a woman. "Macche!" +he would say continually, with an acrid voice and the disgusted air of +an hysterical dame. + +In spite of his frequent petulant fits, he was the person most esteemed +by the ladies of the hotel, both young and married. + +"He is the darling of the ladies," the Countess Brenda said of him, +mockingly. + +Laura had not the least use for him. + +"I know that type by heart," she asserted with disdain. + +During lunch and dinner Signor Carminatti did not leave off talking for +a moment with the Maltese. The Marchesa Sciacca's children often wanted +to tell their mother something; but she hushed them so as to be able to +hear the bright sayings of the handsome Neapolitan. + +The San Martino young ladies and the Countess Brenda's daughter kept +trying to find a way to steal Carminatti for their group; but he always +went back to the Maltese, doubtless because her conversation was more +diverting and spicy. + + + +_THE CONTESSINA BRENDA_ + +The Countess Brenda's daughter, Beatrice Brenda, in spite of her pea-hen +air, was always endeavouring to stir up the Neapolitan and to start a +conversation with him; but Carminatti in his light-hearted way would +reply with a jest or a fatuous remark and betake himself again to the +Marchesa Sciacca, who would make her disturbing children hush because +they often prevented her from catching what the Neapolitan was saying. + +She was not to be despised, not by a long shot, was Signorina Bice, not +in any respect; besides being very rich, she was a beautiful girl and +promised to be more beautiful; she had the type of Titian's women, an +opaline white skin, as though made of mother-of-pearl, plump milky arms, +and dark eyes. The one thing lacking in her was expression. + +She used frequently to go about in the company of an aristocratic +old maid, very ugly, with red hair and a face like a horse, but very +distinguished, who ate at the next table to Laura and Caesar. + +One day Carminatti brought another Neapolitan home to dinner with him, +a fat grotesque person, whom he instigated to emit a series of +improprieties about women and matrimony. Hearing the scandalous sallies +of the rustic, the ladies said, with an amiable smile: + +"He is a _benedetto_." + +The Contessina Brenda, fascinated by the Neapolitan, went to the +Marchesa Sciacca's table. As she passed, Carminatti arose with his +napkin in one hand, and gesticulating with the other, said: + +"Contessina. Allow me to present to you Signor Cappagutti, a merchant +from Naples." + +Signor Cappagutti remained leaning back tranquilly in his chair, and the +Contessina burst out laughing and began to move her arms as if somebody +had put a horse-fly on her skirt. Then she raised her hand to her face, +to hide her laughter, and suddenly sat down. + + + +_DANCING_ + +As it rained a great deal the majority of the guests preferred not to go +out. In the evenings they had dances. Caesar did not appear at the first +one; but his sister told him he ought to go. Caesar was at the second +dance, so as not to seem too much of an ogre. As he had no intention of +dancing, he installed himself in a comer; and while the dance went on he +kept talking with the Countesses Brenda and San Martino. + +Various young men had arrived in the room. They exhibited that Southern +vivacity which is a trifle tiresome to the onlooker, and they all +listened to themselves while they spoke. The Neapolitan and two or three +of his friends were introduced to Caesar; but they showed him a certain +rather ostentatious and impertinent coolness. + +Signor Carminatti exchanged a few words with the Countess Brenda, and +purposely acted as if he did not notice Caesar's presence. + +The Neapolitan's chatter did not irritate Caesar in the slightest, and +as he had no intention of being his rival, he listened to him quite +entertained. + +Caesar noted that the San Martino ladies and some friends of theirs +had a predilection for types like Carminatti, swarthy, prattling, and +boastful South Italians. + +The ladies showed an affectionate familiarity with the girls; they +caressed them and kissed them effusively. + + + +_YOU ARE AN INQUISITOR_ + +Laura, who was dancing with an officer, approached her brother, who was +wedged into a corner, behind two rows of chairs. + +"What are you doing here?" she asked him, stopping and informing her +partner that she was going to sit down a moment. + +"Nothing," answered Caesar, "I am waiting for this waltz to finish, so +that I can get away." + +"You are not enjoying yourself?" + +"Pish!" + +"Nevertheless, there are amusing things about it." + +"Ah, surely. Do you know what happened to me with the Countess Brenda?" + +"What did happen?" + +"When she came in and gave me her hand, she said: 'How hot your hands +are; mine are frozen.' And she held my hands between hers. That was +comical." + +"Comical! Why?" + +"How do I know?" + +"It is comical to you, because you see only evil motives. She held your +hand. Who knows what she may be after? Who knows if she wants to get +something out of you? She has an income of eighty or ninety thousand +lire, perhaps she wants to borrow money from you." + +"No, I know she doesn't." + +"Then, what are you afraid of?" + +"Afraid! Afraid of nothing! Only it surprised me." + +"That's because you look at everything with the eye of an inquisitor. +One must be suspicious: be always on one's guard, always on the watch. +It's the attitude of a savage." + +"I don't deny it. I have no desire to be civilized like these people. +But what does come to me is that the husband of our illustrious and +wealthy friend wears in his breast that porte-bonheur, which I believe +is called horns." + +"Of course; and you haven't discovered that his family is a family of +assassins? How Spanish! What a savage Spaniard I have for a brother!" + +Caesar burst into laughter, and taking advantage of the moment when +everybody was going to the buffet, left the room. In the corridor, one +of the San Martino girls, the more sweet and angelic of the two, was in +a corner with one of the dancers, and there was a sound like a kiss. + +The little blonde made an exclamation of fright; Caesar behaved as if he +had noticed nothing and kept on his way. + +"The devil!" exclaimed Caesar, "that angelic little princess hides in +corners with one of these _briganti_. And their mother has the face to +say that they don't know how to bait a hook! I don't know what more she +could wish. Although it is possible that this is the educational scheme +of the future for marriageable girls." + +In the entrance-hall of the hotel were the Marchesa Sciacca's two +children, attended by a sleeping maid; the little girl, seated on a +sofa, was watching her brother, who walked from one side to the other +with a roll of paper in his hand. In the entrance hall, opposite the +hotel door, there was a bulletin, which was changed every day, to +announce the different performances that were to be given that night at +the theatres of Rome. + +The small boy walked back and forth in front of the poster, and +addressing himself to a public consisting of the sleeping maid and the +little girl, cried: + +"Step up, gentlemen! Step up! Now is the time. We are about to perform +_La Geisha_, the magnificent English operetta. Walk right in! Walk right +in!" + +While the mother was dancing with the Neapolitan in the ball-room, the +children were amusing themselves thus alone. + +"The truth is that our civilization is an absurdity. Even the children +go mad," thought Caesar, and took refuge in his room. + +During the whole night he heard from his bed the notes of the waltzes +and two-steps, and dancers' laughter and shouts and shuffling feet. + + + +_THEY ARE JUST CHILDREN_ + +The next day, Laura, before going out to make a call, appeared at +lunch-time most elegantly dressed, with a gown and a hat from Paris, in +which she was truly most charming. + +She had a great success: the San Martinos, the Countess Brenda, the +other ladies congratulated her. The hat, above all, seemed ideal to +them. + +Carminatti was in raptures. + +"E bello, bellissimo_," he said, with great enthusiasm, and all the +ladies agreed that it was _bellissimo_, lengthening the "s" and nodding +their heads with a gesture of admiration. + +"And you don't say anything to me, _bambino_?" Laura inquired of Caesar. + +"I say you are all right." + +"And nothing more?" + +"If you want me to pay you a compliment, I will tell you that you are +pretty enough to make incest legitimate." "What a barbarian!" murmured +Laura, half laughing, half blushing. + +"What has he been saying to you?" two or three people inquired. + +Laura translated his words into Italian, and Carminatti found them +admirable. + +"Very appropriate! Very witty!" he exclaimed, laughing, and gave Caesar +a friendly slap on the shoulder. + +The Marchesa Sciacca looked at Laura several times with reflective +glances and a rancorous smile. + +"The truth is that these Southern people are just children," thought +Caesar, mockingly. "What an inveterate preoccupation they have in the +beautiful." + +The Neapolitan was one of those most preoccupied with esthetics. + +Caesar had a room opposite Signor Carminatti's, and the first few days +he had thought it was a woman's room. Toilet flasks, sprays, boxes of +powder; the room looked like a perfumery shop. + +"It is curious," Caesar used to think, "how these people from famous +historic towns can combine powder and the _maffia_, opoponax and +daggers." + +Almost every night after dinner there was an improvised dance in the +salon. Somebody played the languorous waltzes of the Tzigane orchestras +on the piano. The Maltese and Carminatti used to sing romantic songs, of +the kind whose words and music seem to be always the same, and in which +there invariably is question of panting, refulgent, love, and other +suggestive words. + +One Sunday evening, when it was raining, Caesar stayed in the hotel. + +In the salon Carminatti was doing sleight-of-hand to entertain the +ladies. Afterwards the Neapolitan was seen pursuing the Marchesa Sciacca +and the two San Martino girls in the corridors. They shrieked shrilly +when he grabbed them around the waist. The devil of a Neapolitan was an +expert at sleight-of-hand. + + + +VII + +THE CONFIDENCES OF THE ABBE PRECIOZI + +_NATURAL VARIETIES OF NOSES AND EXPRESSIONS_ + + +Caesar admitted before his conscience that he had no plans, or the +slightest idea what direction to take. The Cardinal, no doubt, did not +feel any desire to know him. + +Caesar often proceeded by more or less absurd hypotheses. "Suppose," he +would think, "that I had an idea, a concrete ambition. In that case it +would behoove me to be reserved on such and such topics and to hint +these and those ideas to people; let's do it that way, even though it be +only for sport." + +Preciozi was the only person who was able to give him any light in +his investigations, because the guests at the hotel, most of them, on +account of their position, thought of nothing but amusing themselves and +of giving themselves airs. + +Caesar discovered that Preciozi was ambitious; but besides lacking an +opening, he had not the necessary vigour and imagination to do anything. + +The abbe spoke a macaronic Spanish, which he had learned in South +America, and which provoked Caesar's laughter. He was constantly saying: +"My friend," and he mingled Gallicisms with a lot of coarse expressions +of Indian or mulatto origin, and with Italian words. Preciozi's dialect +was a gibberish worthy of Babel. + +The first day they went out together, the abbe wanted to show him divers +of Rome's picturesque spots. He led him behind the Quirinal, through +the Via della Panetteria and the Via del Lavatore, where there is a +fruit-market, to the Trevi fountain. "It is beautiful, eh?" said the +abbe. + +"Yes; what I don't understand," replied Caesar, "is why, in a town where +there is so much water, the hotel wash-basins are so small." + +Preciozi shrugged his shoulders. + +"What types you have in Rome!" Caesar went on. "What a variety of noses +and expressions! Jesuits with the aspect of savants and plotters; +Carmelites with the appearance of highway men; Dominicans, some with +a sensual air, others with a professorial air. Astuteness, intrigue, +brutality, intelligence, mystic stupor.... And as for priests, what a +museum! Decorative priests, tall, with white shocks of hair and big +cassocks; short priests, swarthy and greasy; noses thin as a knife; +warty, fiery noses. Gross types; distinguished types; pale bloodless +faces; red faces.... What a marvellous collection!" + +Preciozi listened to Caesar's observations and wondered if the +Cardinal's nephew might be a trifle off his head. + +"Point out what is noteworthy, so that I may admire it enough," Caesar +told him. "I don't care to burst out in an enthusiastic phrase for +something of no value." + +Preciozi laughed at these jokes, as if they were a child's bright +sayings; but at times Caesar appeared to him to be an innocent soul, and +at other times a Machiavellian who dissembled his insidious purposes +under an extravagant demeanour. + +When Preciozi was involved in some historic dissertation, Caesar used to +ask him ingenuously: + +"But listen, abbe; does this really interest you?" + +Preciozi would admit that the past didn't matter much to him, and then +with one accord, they would burst out laughing. + +Caesar said that Preciozi and he were the most anti-historic men going +about in Rome. + +One morning they went to the Piazza del Campidoglio. It was drizzling; +the wet roofs shone; the sky was grey. + +"This intrusion of the country into Rome," said Caesar, "is what gives +the city its romantic aspect. These hills with trees on them are very +pretty." + +"Only pretty, Don Caesar? They are sublime," retorted Preciozi. + +"What amazement I shall produce in you, my dear abbe, when I tell you +that all my knowledge in respect to the Capitol reduces itself to the +fact that some orator, I don't know who, said that near the Capitol is +the Tarpeian Rock." + +"You know nothing more about it?" + +"Nothing more. I don't know if Cicero said that, or Castelar, or Sir +Robert Peel." + +Preciozi burst into merry laughter. + +"What statue is that?" asked Caesar, indicating the one in the middle of +the square. + +"That is Marcus Aurelius." + +"An Emperor?" + +"Yes, an Emperor and a philosopher." + +"And why have they made him riding such a little, potbellied horse?" + +"I don't know, man." + +"He looks like a man taking a horse to water at a trough. Why does he +ride bare-back? Hadn't they invented stirrups at that period?" + +Preciozi was a bit perplexed; before making a reply he gazed at the +statue, and then said, confusedly: + +"I think so." + +They crossed the Piazza Campidoglio and went out by the left side of the +Palazzo del Senatore. Down the Via dell' Arco di Severo, a street that +runs down steps to the Forum, they saw a large arch that seemed sunk in +the ground, and beyond, further away, another smaller arch with only one +archway, which arose in the distance as if on top of the big arch. A +square yellow tower, burned by the sun, lifted itself among the ruins; +some hills showed rows of romantic cypresses, and in the background the +blue Alban Mountains stood out against a grey sky. + +"Would you like to go down to the Forum?" said the abbe. "Down there +where the stones are? No. What for?" + +"Do you wish to see the Tarpeian Rock?" + +"Yes, man. But explain to me what this rock was." + +Preciozi got together all his information, which was not much. + +They went by the Via Monte Tarpea, and came back by the Via della +Consolazione. + +"They must have thrown people who were already dead off the Tarpeian +Rock," said Caesar, after hearing the explanation. + +"No, no." + +"But if they threw them down alive, the majority of those they chucked +down here would not have died. At most they would have dislocated an +arm, a leg, or a finger-joint. Unless they chucked them head first." + +Preciozi could not permit the mortal effects of the Tarpeian Rock to be +doubted, and he said that its height had been lessened and the level of +the soil had risen. + +After these explanations Caesar found the spot of Roman executions +somewhat less fantastic. + +"How would you like to go to that church in the Forum?" said Preciozi. + +"I was going to propose that we should go to the hotel; it must be +lunch-time." + +"Come along." + + + +_THE CHURCH AND COOKING_ + +Caesar had Marsala and Asti brought for the abbe, who was a gourmet. + +While Preciozi ate and drank with all his jaws, Caesar devoted himself +to teasing him. The waiter had brought some cream-puffs and informed +them that that was a dish every one ate that day. Laura and Preciozi +praised the puffs, and Caesar said: + +"What an admirable religion ours is! For each day the church has a saint +and a special dish. The truth is that the Catholic Church is very wise; +it has broken all relations with science, but it remains in harmony with +cooking. As Preciozi was a moment ago saying with great exactitude, +this close relation that exists between the Church and the kitchen is +moving." + +"I said that to you?" asked Preciozi. "What a falsehood!" + +"Don't pay any attention," said Laura. + +"Yes, my dear abbe," retorted Caesar, "and I even believe that you added +confidentially that sometimes the Pope in the Vatican gardens, imitating +Francis I after the battle of Pavia, is wont to say sadly to the +Secretary of State: 'All is lost, save faith and ... good cooking.'" + +"What a_bufone! What a bufone!" exclaimed Preciozi, with his mouth +full. + +"You are giving a proof of irreligion which is in bad taste," said +Laura. "Only janitors talk like that." + +"On such questions I am an honourary janitor." + +"That's all right, but you ought to realize that there are religious +people here, like the abbe...." + +"Preciozi? Why, he's a Voltairean." + +"Oh! Oh! My friend...." exclaimed Preciozi, emptying a glass of wine. + +"Voltaireanism," continued Caesar. "There is nobody here who has faith, +nobody who makes the little sacrifice of not eating on Fridays in Lent. +Here we are, destroying with our own teeth one of the most beautiful +works of the Church. You will both ask me what that work is...." + +"No, we will not ask you anything," said Laura, waving a hand in the +air. + +"Well, it is that admirable alimentary harmony sustained by the Church. +During the whole year we are authorized to eat terrestrial animals, and +in Lent aquatic ones only. Promiscuous as we are, we are undoing the +equilibrium between the maritime and the land forces, we are attacking +the peaceful rotation of meat and fish." + +"He is a child," said Preciozi, "we must leave him alone." + +"Yes, but that will not impede my Spaniard's heart, my Cardinal's +nephew's heart from bleeding grievously.... Shall we go to the cafe, +Abbe?" + +"Yes, let us go." + + + +_THE MARVELLOUS BIRD OF ROME_ + +They left the hotel and entered a cafe in the Piazza Esedra. Preciozi +made a vague move to pay, but Caesar would not permit him to. + +"What do you wish to do?" said the abbe. + +"Whatever you like." + +"I have to go to the Altemps palace a moment." + +"To see my uncle?" + +"Yes; then, if you feel like it, we can take a long walk." + +"Very good." + +They went towards the centre of the town by the Via Nazionale. It was a +splendid sunny afternoon. + +Preciozi went into the Altemps palace a moment; Caesar waited for him in +the street. Then, together they went over to opposite the Castel Sant' +Angelo, crossed the river, and approached the Piazza di San Pietro. The +atmosphere was wonderfully clear and pure; the suave blue sky seemed to +caress the pinnacles and decorations of the big square. + +Preciozi met a dirty friar, dark, with a black beard and a mouth from +ear to ear. The abbe showed no great desire to stop and speak with him, +but the other detained him. This party wore a habit of a brown colour +and carried a big umbrella under his arm. + +"There's a type!" said Caesar, when Preciozi rejoined him. + +"Yes, he is a peasant," the abbe said with disgust. + +"If that chap meets any one in the road, he plants his umbrella in his +chest, and demands his money or his ... eternal life." + +"Yes, he is a disagreeable man," agreed Preciozi. + +They continued their walk, through the Piazza Cavallegeri and outside +the walls. As they went up one of the hills there, they could see the +facade of Saint Peter's continually nearer, with all the huge stone +figures on the cornice. "The fact is that that poor Christ plays a sad +role there in the middle," said Caesar. + +"Oh! Oh! My friend," exclaimed the abbe in protest. + +"A plebeian Jew in the midst of so many princes of the Church! Doesn't +it strike you as an absurdity?" + +"No, not absurd at all." + +"The truth is that this religion of yours is Jewish meat with a Roman +sauce." + +"And yours? What is yours?" + +"Mine? I have not got past fetichism. I worship the golden calf. Like +the majority of Catholics." + +"I don't believe it." + +They looked back; they could see the dome of the great basilica shining +in the sun; then, to one side, a little viaduct and a tower. + +"What a wonderful bird you keep in this beautiful cage!" said Caesar. + +"What bird?" asked Preciozi. + +"The Pope, friend Preciozi, the Pope. Not the popinjay, but the Pope +in white. What a very marvellous bird! He has a feather fan like a +peacock's tail; he speaks like the cockatoo, only he differs from them +in being infallible; and he is infallible, because another bird, +also marvellous, which is called the Holy Ghost, tells him by night +everything that takes place on earth and in heaven. What very +picturesque and extravagant things!" + +"For you who have no faith everything must be extravagant." + +Caesar and Preciozi went on encircling the walls and reading the various +marble tablets set into them, and ascended to the Janiculum, to the +terrace where Garibaldi's statue stands. + + + +_POOR TINDARO_ + +"But, are you anti-Catholic, seriously?" asked Preciozi. "But do you +believe any one can be a Catholic seriously?" said Caesar. "I can, yes; +otherwise I shouldn't be a priest." + +"But are you a priest because you believe, or do you make believe that +you believe because you are a priest?" + +"You are a child. I suppose you hate the Jesuits, like all Liberals." + +"And I suppose you hate Masons, like all Catholics." + +"No." + +"No more do I hate Jesuits. What is worse, I read the life of Saint +Ignatius Loyola at school, and he seemed to me a great man." + +"Well, I should think so!" + +"And the Jesuits have some power still?" + +"Yes." + +"Really?" + +"Yes, man. They give the Church its direction. Oh, nobody fools the +Society. You can see what happened to Cardinal Tindaro." + +"I don't know what did happen to him," said Caesar, with indifference. + +"No?" + +"No." + +"Well, Cardinal Tindaro decided to follow the inspirations of the +Society and made many Jesuits Cardinals with the object that when Pope +Leo XIII died, they should elect him Pope; but the Jesuits smelled the +rat, and when Leo XIII got very ill, the Council of Assistants of the +Society had a meeting and decided that Tindaro should not be Pope, and +ordered the Austrian Court to oppose its veto. When the election came, +the Jesuit Cardinals gave Tindaro a fat vote, out of gratitude, but +calculated not to be enough to raise him to the throne, and in case it +was, the Austrian Cardinal and the Hungarian had their Empire's veto to +Tindaro's election in their pocket." + +"And this Tindaro, is he intelligent?" + +"Yes, he is indeed; very intelligent. Style Leo XIII." + +"Men of weight." + +"Yes, but neither of the two had Pius IX's spirit." "And the present +one? He is a poor creature, eh?" + +"I don't know, I don't know...." + +"And the Society of Jesus, is it on good terms with this Pope?" + +"Surely. He is their creation." + +"So that the Society is really powerful?" + +"It certainly is! Without a doubt! It has a pleasant rule, and +obedience, and knowledge, and money...." + +"It has money too, eh?" + +"Has it money? More than enough." + +"And in what form? In paper?" + +"In paper, and in property, and industries; in steamship companies, in +manufactories...." + +"I would make an admirable business manager." + +"Well, your uncle, the Cardinal, could get you put in touch with the +Society." + +"Is he a friend of theirs?" + +"Close as a finger-nail." + +Caesar was silent a moment, and then said: + +"And I have heard that the Society of Jesus was, at bottom, an +anti-Christian organization, a branch of Masonry...." + +"_Macche_!" exclaimed the abbe. "How could you believe that? Oh, no, my +friend! What an absurdity!" + +Then, seeing Caesar burst into laughter, he calmed himself, wondering if +he was making fun of him. + +They went down the hill, where the monument to Garibaldi flaunts itself, +to the terrace of the Spanish Academy. + +The view was magnificent; the evening, now falling, was clear; the sky +limpid and transparent. From that height the houses of Rome were spread +out silent, with an air of solemnity, of immobility, of calm. It +appeared a flat town; one did not notice its slopes and its hills; it +gave the impression of a city in stone set under a glass globe. + +The sky itself, pure and diaphanous, augmented the sensation of +withdrawal and quietude; not a cloud on the horizon, not a spot of smoke +in the air; silence and repose everywhere. The dome of St. Peter's had +the colour of a cloud, the shrubberies on the Pincio were reddened by +the sun, and the Alban Hills disclosed the little white towns and the +smiling villas on their declivities. + +Preciozi pointed out domes and towers; Caesar did not hear him, and he +was thinking, with a certain terror: + +"We shall die, and these stones will continue to shine in the sunlight +of other winter evenings." + + + +_THE VATICAN FAMILY_ + +Making an effort with himself, he threw off this painful idea, and +turning to Preciozi, asked: + +"So you believe that I might have made a nice career in the Church?" + +"You! I certainly do think so!" exclaimed Preciozi. "With a cardinal for +uncle, _che carriera_ you could have made!" + +"But are there enough different jobs in the Church?" + +"From the Pope to the canons and the Papal Guards, you ought to see +all the hierarchies we have at the Vatican. First the Pope, then the +Cardinals in bishop's orders, next, the Cardinals in priest's +orders, then the Cardinal's in deacon's orders, the Secretaries, +the _compisteria_ of the Holy College of Cardinals, the Patriarchs, +Archbishops, Bishops, and the Pontifical Family." + +"Whose family is that? The Pope's?" + +"No; it is called that, as who should say, the General Staff of the +Vatican. It is made up of the Palatine Cardinals, the Palatine Prelates, +the Participating Privy Chamberlains, the Archbishops and Bishops +assisting the Pontifical throne, the Domestic Prelates, who form +the College of Apostolic Prothonotaries, the Pontifical Masters of +Ceremonies, the Princes Assisting the Throne, the Privy Participating +Cape-and-Sword Chamberlains, the Privy Numbered Cape-and-Sword +Chamberlains...." + +"Cape-and-Sword! Didn't I tell you that that poor Christ plays a sorry +part on the facade of Saint Peter's?" exclaimed Caesar. + +"Why, man?" + +"Because all this stuff about capes and swords doesn't seem very fitting +for the soul of a Christian. Unless, of course, the knights of the sword +and cape do not use the sword to wound and the cape for a shield, but +only wield the sword of Faith and the cape of Charity.... And haven't +you any gentlemen of Bed-and-Board, as they have at the Spanish Court?" + +"No." + +"That's a pity. It is so expressive,... bed and board. Bed and board, +cape and sword. Who wouldn't be satisfied? One must admit that there is +nobody equal to the Church, and next to her a monarchy, when it comes +to inventing pretty things. That is why it is said, and very well said, +that there is no salvation outside of the Church." + +"You are a pagan." + +"And I believe you are one, too." + +"_Macche_!" + +"What comes after all those Privy Cape-and-Sword Chamberlains, my dear +Abbe?" + +"Next, there is the Pontifical Noble Guard, the Swiss Papal Guard, +the Palatine Guard of Honour, the Corps of Papal Gendarmes, the Privy +Chaplains, the Privy Clerics, the suite of His Holiness. Next come the +members of the Palatine Administration, the Congregations, and more +Secretaries." + +"And do the Cardinals live well?" + +"Yes." + +"How much do they make?" + +"They get twenty thousand lire fixed salary, besides extras." + +"But that is very little!" + +"Certainly! It used to be much more, at the time of the Papal States. +Out of their twenty thousand lire they have to keep a carriage." + +"Those that aren't rich must have a hard time." + +"Just imagine, some of them have to live in a third-floor apartment. +There have been some that bought their red robes second-hand." + +"Really?" + +"Really." + +"Are those robes so expensive?" + +"Yes, they are expensive. Quite. They are made of a special cloth +manufactured in Cologne." + +"Are there many Cardinals who are not of rich families?" + +"A great many." + +"Well, you people have ruined that job." + +They went to Trastevere and there they took the tram. Preciozi got +out at the Piazza Venezia and Caesar went on to the end of the Via +Nazionale. + + + +_A TALK ABOUT MONEY_ + +"Where have you been?" asked Laura, on seeing him. + +"I've been taking a walk with the abbe." + +"It's evident that you find him more interesting than us women." + +"Preciozi is very interesting. He is a Machiavellian. He has a candour +that is assumed and a dulness that is assumed. He plays a little comedy +to get out of paying, at the cafe or in the tram. He is splendid. I +think, if you will pardon me for saying so, that the Italians are damned +close." + +"People that have no money are forced to be economical." + +"No, that isn't so. I have known people in Madrid who made three pesetas +a day, and spent two treating a friend." + +"Yes, out of ostentation, out of a desire to show off. I don't like +pretentious people." + +"Well, I believe I prefer them to skinflints." + +"Yes, that's very Spanish. A man wasting money, while his wife and +children are dying of hunger.... The man who won't learn the value of +money is not the best type." + +"Money is filthy. If it were only possible to abolish it!" + +"For my part, son, I should like less to have it abolished than to have +a great deal of it." "I shouldn't. If I could carry out my plans, all I +should need afterwards would be a hut to live in, a garret." + +"Our ideas differ." + +"These people that need clothes and jewels and perfumes fairly nauseate +me.... All such things are only fit for Jews." + +"Then I must surely be a Jewess." + + + + +VIII + +OLD PALACES, OLD SALONS, OLD LADIES + +_THE CARDINAL UNCLE_ + + +As the Cardinal gave no indication of curiosity to see Caesar, Caesar +several times said to Laura: + +"We ought to call on uncle, eh?" + +"Do as you choose. He isn't very anxious to see you. Apparently he takes +you for an unbeliever." + +"All right, that has nothing to do with calling on him." + +"If you like I will go with you." + +The Cardinal lived in the Palazzo Altemps. That palace is situated in +the Via di S. Apellinare, opposite a seminary. The brother and sister +proceeded to the palace one morning, went up the grand staircase, and +in a reception-room they found Preciozi with two other priests, talking +together in low tones. + +One was a worn, pallid old man, with his nose and the borders of his +nasal appendage extremely red. Caesar considered that so red a nose in +that livid, ghastly face resembled a lantern in a melancholy landscape +lighted by the evening twilight. This livid person was the house +librarian. + +"His Eminence is very busy," said Preciozi, after bowing to the callers. +He spoke with a different voice from the one he used outside. "I will go +in, in a moment, and see if you can see him." + +Caesar stepped to the window of the reception-room: one could see the +court of the old palace and the colonnade surrounding it. + +"This house must be very large," he said. + +"You shall see it later, if you like," replied the abbe. A little after +this Preciozi disappeared, and reappeared again in the opening of a +glass door, saying, in the discreetly lowered voice which was no doubt +that of his domestic functions: + +"This way, this way." + +They went into a large, cold, shabby room. Through an open door they +could see another bare salon, equally dark and sombre. + +The Cardinal was seated at a table; he was dressed as a monk and had the +air of being in a bad humour. Laura went promptly to him and kissed his +hand. Caesar bowed, and as the Cardinal did not deign to look at him, +remained standing, at some distance from the table. + +Laura, after having saluted her uncle as a pillar of the Church, talked +to him as a relative. The Cardinal cast a rapid glance at Caesar, and +then, scowling somewhat less, asked him if his mother was well and if he +expected to be long in Rome. + +Caesar, vexed by this frigid reception, answered shortly in a few cold +words, that all of them were well. + +The Cardinal's secretary, who was by the window assisting at the +interview, shot angry looks at Caesar. + +After a brief audience, which could not have lasted over five minutes, +the Cardinal said, addressing Laura: + +"Pardon me, my daughter, but I must go on with my work"; and +immediately, without a look at his nephew or his niece, he called the +secretary, who brought him a portfolio of papers. + +Caesar opened the glass door for Laura to pass. + +"Would you like to see the palace?" Preciozi asked them. "There are some +antique statues, magnificent marbles, and a chapel where Saint Aniceto's +body is preserved." + +"Let's leave Saint Aniceto's body for another day," Caesar replied +sardonically. + +Laura and Caesar went down the stairway. + +"There was no need to come, to behave like that," she said, upset. + +"How so?" + +"How so! You behaved like a savage, no more nor less." "No, he was the +one that behaved like a savage. I bowed to him, and he wasn't willing +even to look at me." + +"You made up for it by staring at him as if he had been some curious +insect in a cage." + +"It was his fault for not being even barely polite to me." + +"Do you think that a Cardinal is an ordinary person to whom you say: +'Hello! How are you? How's business?'" + +"I met an English Cabinet Minister in a club once and he was like +anybody else." + +"It's not the same thing." + +"Do you believe that perhaps our uncle considers that he fulfils a +providential mission, a divine mission?" + +"What a question! Of course he does." + +"Then he is a poor idiot. However, it's nothing to me. Our uncle is a +stupid fool." + +"You discovered that in such a little while?" + +"Yes. Fanatical, vain, fatuous, pleased with himself.... He is of no use +to me." + +"Ah, so you thought he would be of some use to you?" + +"Why not?" + +Her brother's arbitrary manner of taking things irritated and at the +same time amused Laura. + +She believed that he made it a rule to persist in always doing the +contrary to other people. + +Laura and her friends of both sexes used to run across one another in +museums, out walking in the popular promenades, and at the races. Caesar +didn't go to museums, because he said he had no artistic feeling; races +didn't interest him either; and when it came to walking, he preferred to +wander at random in the streets. + +As his memory was not full of historical facts, he experienced no great +esthetic or archeological thrills, and no sympathy whatsoever with the +various herds of tourists that went about examining old stones. + +At night, in the salon, he used to give burlesque descriptions, in +his laconic French, of street scenes: the Italian soldiers with +cock-feathers drooping from a sort of bowler hat, the porters of +the Embassies and great houses, with their cocked hats, their blue +great-coats, and the staff with a silver knob in their hands. + +The precise, jocose, biting report of his observations offended Laura +and her lady friends. + +"Why do you hate Italians so much?" the Countess Brenda asked him one +day. + +"But I don't hate them." + +"He speaks equally badly of everybody," explained Laura. "He has a bad +character." + +"Is it because you have had an unhappy life?" the Countess asked, +interested. + +"No, I don't think so," said Caesar, feeling like smiling; instead of +which, and without knowing why and without any reason, he put on a sad +look. + + + +_EXERCISES IN HYPOCRISY_ + +Laura, with her feminine perspicacity, noted that from that day on the +Countess looked at Caesar a great deal and with melancholy smiles; and +not only the mother appeared interested, but the daughter too. + +"I don't know what it is in my brother," thought Laura; "women are +attracted to him just because he pays no attention to them. And he knows +it; yes, indeed he does, even thought he acts as if he were unconscious +of it. Both mother and daughter taken with him! Carminatti has been +routed." + +The Countess quickly discovered a great liking for Laura, and as they +both had friends in good Roman society, they made calls together. Laura +was astonished enough to hear Caesar say that if there was no objection, +he would go with them. + +"But the majority of our friends are old ladies, devout old ladies." + +"All the better." + +"All right. But if you come, it is on condition that you say nothing +that would shock them." "Surely." + +Caesar accompanied the Countess Brenda and his sister to various +aristocratic houses, and at every one he heard the same conversation, +about the King, the Pope, the Cardinals, and how few or how many +people there were in the hotels. These topics, together with slanders, +constituted the favourite motive for conversation in the great world. + +Caesar conversed with the somewhat flaccid old ladies ("castanae +molles," as Preciozi called them) with perfect hypocrisy; he regarded +the classic decorations of the salons, and while he listened to rather +strange French and to most elegant and pure Italian, he wondered if +there might be somebody among all this Papal society whom he could use +to forward his ambitions. + +Sometimes among the guests he would meet a young "monsignor," discreetly +smiling, whose emerald ring it was necessary to kiss. Caesar would kiss +it and say to himself: "Let us practise tolerance with our lips." + +In many of these salons the mania for the English game called "bridge" +had caught with great violence. + +Caesar hated card-games. For a man who made a study of the +stock-exchange, the mechanism of a card-game was too stupid to arouse +any interest. But he had no objection to playing and losing. + +The Countesses Brenda and San Martino had "bridge-mania" very hard, and +they used to go to Brenda's room in the evening to play. + +After playing bridge a week, Caesar found that his money was insensibly +melting away. + +"Look here," he said to Laura. + +"What is it?" + +"You have got to teach me bridge." + +"I don't know how to play, because I have no head for such things and I +forget what cards have been played; but they gave me a little book on +the game. I will lend it to you, if you like." + +"Yes, give me it." + +Caesar read the book, learned the intricacies of the game, and the next +few evenings he acquitted himself so well that the Countess of San +Martino marched off to her room with burning cheeks and almost in tears. + +"What a cad you are!" Laura said to him at lunch some days later, +laughing. "You are fleecing those women." + +"It's their own fault. Why did they take advantage of my innocence?" + +"They have decided to go and play in Carminatti's room without telling +you." + +"I'm glad of it." + +"Do you know, _bambino_, I have to go away for a few days." + +"Where?" + +"To Naples. Come with me." + +"No; I have things to do here. I will take you to the station." + +"Ah, you rascal! You are a Don Juan." + +"No, dear sister. I am a financier." + +"I can see your victims from here. But I shall put them on their guard. +You are a blood-thirsty hyena. You like to collect hearts the way the +Red-skins did scalps." + +"You mean coupons." + +"No, hearts. You like to pretend to be simple, because you are wicked. I +will tell the Countess Brenda and her daughter." + +"What are you going to tell them?" + +"That you are wicked, that you have a hyena's heart, that you want to +ruin them." + +"Don't tell them that, because it will make them fall in love with me. A +hyena-hearted man is always run after by the ladies." + +"You are right. Come along, go to Naples with me." + +"Is your husband such a terrible bore, little sister?" + +"A little more cream and a little less impertinence, _bambino_," said +Laura, holding out her plate with a comic gesture. + +Caesar burst out laughing, and after lunch he took Laura to the station +and remained in Rome alone. His two chief occupations consisted in +making love respectfully to the Countess Brenda and going to walk with +Preciozi. + +The Countess Brenda was manifestly coming around; in the evening Caesar +would take a seat beside her and start a serious conversation about +religious and philosophical matters. The Countess was a well-educated +and religious woman; but beneath all her culture one could see the +ardent dark woman, still young, and with intense eyes. + +Caesar made it a spiritual training to talk to the Countess. She often +turned the conversation to questions of love, and discussed them with +apparent keenness and insight, but it was evident that all her ideas +about love came out of novels. Beyond a doubt, her calm, vulgar husband +did not fill up the emptiness of her soul, because the Countess was +discontented and had a vague hope that somewhere, above or beneath +the commonplaces of the day, there was a mysterious region where the +ineffable reigned. + +Caesar, who hadn't much faith in the ineffable, used to listen to her +with a certain amazement, as if the plump, strong woman had been a +visionary incapable of understanding reality. + +In the daytime Caesar went walking with Preciozi and they talked of +their respective plans. + + + +_SOLITARY WALKS_ + +Often Caesar went out alone, chewing the end of his thoughts as he +strolled in the streets, working out possible schemes of investments or +of politics. + +When he got away from the main streets, he kept finding some corner at +every step that left him astonished at its fantastic, theatrical air. +Suddenly he would discover himself before a high wall, on top of +which were statues covered with moss, or huge terra-cotta jars. Those +decorations would stand out against the dark foliage of the Roman ilex +and the tall, black cypresses. At the end of a street would rise a tall +palm, drooping its branches over a little square, or a stone pine, like +the one in the Aldobrandini garden. + +"These people were real artists," Caesar would murmur, and mean it as a +fact, not taking it for either praise or blame. + +His curiosity got excited, despite his determination not to resemble a +tourist in any way. The low windows of a palace would let him see lofty +ceilings with great stretches of painting, or decorated with medallions +and legends; a balcony would display a thick curtain of ivy that hid the +railings; here he would read a Latin inscription cut in a marble tablet, +there he would come upon a black lane between two old houses, with a +battered lantern at its entrance. In the part of town between the Corso +and the Tiber, which is full of narrow, crooked old streets, he loved to +wander until he was lost. + +Some details already familiar, he was delighted to see again; he always +halted to look down the Via della Pillotta, with its arches over the +street; and the little flower-market in the Piazza di Spagna always gave +him a sensation of joy. + +At dusk Caesar would walk in the centre of town; the bars filled up with +people who loved to take cakes and sweet wine; on the sidewalks the +itinerant merchants cried their trifling wares; along the Corso a +procession of carriages full of tourists passed rapidly, and a few +well-appointed victorias came driving back from the Pincio and the Villa +Borghese. + +Once in a while Caesar went out in the evening after dinner. There was +scant animation in the streets, theatres didn't interest him, and he +would soon return to the hotel salon to chat with the Countess Brenda. + +Later, in his room, he would write to Alzugaray, giving him his +impressions. + + + + +IX + +NEW ACQUAINTANCES + +"I PROTESTANTI DELLA SIMPATIA" + + +It began again to rain disastrously; the days were made up of downpours +and squalls, to the great despair of the foreigners. + +At night the Piazza Esedra was a fine sight from the hotel balcony. The +arc lights reflected their glow in the lakes of rain beneath them, and +the great jet of the fountain in the centre took on tones of blue and +mother-of-pearl, where the rays of the electric light pierced through +it. + +In the hotel parlour one dance followed another. Everybody complained +gaily of the bad weather. + +Shortly before the middle of Lent there arrived a Parisian family at the +hotel, composed of a mother with two daughters and a companion. + +This family might be considered a representation of the _entente +cordiale_. The mother was French, the widow first of a Spaniard, Senor +Sandoval, by whom she had had one daughter, and then of an Englishman, +Mr. Dawson, by whom she had had another. + +Mme. Dawson was a fat, imposing lady, with tremendous brilliants in +her ears and somewhat theatrical clothes; Mile. Sandoval, the elder +daughter, was of Arab type, with black eyes, an aquiline nose, pale +rose-coloured lips, and a malicious smile, full of mystery, as if it +revealed restless and diabolical intentions. + +Her half-sister, Mile. Dawson, was a contrast, being the perfect type of +a grotesque Englishwoman, with a skin like a beet, and freckles. + +The governess, Mile. Cadet, was not at all pretty, but she was gay and +sprightly. These four women seated in the middle of the dining-room, a +little stiff, a little out of temper, seemed, particularly the first +few days, to defy anybody that might have wished to approach them. They +replied coolly to the formal bows of the other guests, and none of them +cared to take part in the dances. + +The handsome Signor Carminatti shot incendiary glances at Mlle. de +Sandoval; but she remained scornful; so one evening, as the Dawson +family came out of the dining-room, the Neapolitan waved his hand toward +them and said: + +"I protestante della simpatia." + +Caesar made much of this phrase, because it was apt, and he took it +that Carminatti considered the ladies protestants against friendliness, +because they had paid no attention to the charms that he displayed in +their honour. + + + +_CONSEQUENCES OF THE RAIN_ + +Two or three days later Mme. Dawson bowed to Caesar on passing him in +the hall, and asked him: + +"Aren't you Spanish?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"But don't you speak French?" + +"Very little." + +"My daughter is Spanish too." + +"She is a perfect Spanish type." + +"Really?" asked the daughter referred to. + +"Thoroughly." + +"Then I am happy." + +In the evening, after dinner, Caesar again joined Mme. Dawson and began +to talk with her. The Frenchwoman had a tendency to philosophize, to +criticize, and to find out everything. She had no great capacity for +admiration, and nothing she saw succeeded in dragging warm eulogies from +her lips. There was none of the "_bello! bellissimo!_" of the Italian +ladies in her talk, but a series of exact epithets. + +Mme. Dawson had left all her capacity for admiration in France, and was +visiting Italy for the purpose of arriving as soon as possible at the +conclusion that there is no town like Paris, no nation like the French, +and it didn't matter much to Caesar whether he agreed or denied it. + +Mlle. de Sandoval had a great curiosity about things in Spain and an +absurd idea about everything Spanish. + +"It seems impossible," thought Caesar, "how stupid French people are +about whatsoever is not French." + +Mlle. de Sandoval asked Caesar a lot of questions, and finally, with an +ironic gesture, said to him: + +"You mustn't let us keep you from going to talk with the Countess +Brenda. She is looking over at you a great deal." + +Caesar became a trifle dubious; indeed, the Countess was looking at him +in a fixed and disdainful way. + +"The Countess is a very intelligent woman," said Caesar; "I think you +would all like her very much." + +Mme. Dawson said nothing; Caesar rose, took his leave of the family, and +went over to speak to the Countess and her daughter. She received him +coldly. Caesar thought he would stay long enough to be polite and then +get away, when Carminatti, speaking to him in a very friendly way and +calling him "_mio caro_," asked him to introduce him to Mme. Dawson. + +He did so, and when he had left the handsome Neapolitan leaning back +in a chair beside the French ladies, he made the excuse that he had a +letter to write, and said good-night. + +"I see that you are an ogre," said Mlle. de Sandoval. + +"Do you want me for anything?" + +"No, no; you may go when you choose." + +Caesar repaired to his room. + +"I don't mind those people," he said; "but if they think I am a man made +for entertaining ladies, they are very clever." + +The next day Mme. Dawson talked with Caesar very affably, and Mlle. de +Sandoval made a few ironical remarks about his savage ways. + +Of all the family Caesar conceived that Mlle. Cadet was the most +intelligent. She was a French country girl, very jovial, blond, with a +turned-up nose, and on the whole insignificant looking. When she spoke, +her voice had certain falsetto inflexions that were very comical. + +Mlle. Cadet was on to everything the moment it happened. Caesar asked +her jokingly about the people in the hotel, and he was thunderstruck to +find that she had discovered in three or four days who all the guests +were and where they came from. + +Mlle. Cadet also told him that Carminatti had sent an ardent declaration +of love to the Sandoval girl the first day he saw her. + +"The devil!" exclaimed Caesar. "What an inflammable Neapolitan it is! +And what did she reply?" + +"What would she reply? Nothing." + +"As you are already familiar with everything going on here," said +Caesar, "I am going to ask you a question: what is the noise in the +court every night? I am always thinking of asking somebody." + +"Why, it is charging the accumulator of the lift," replied Mlle. Cadet. + +"You have relieved me from a terrible doubt which worried me." + +"I have never heard a noise," said Mlle. de Sandoval, breaking into the +conversation. + +"That's because your room is on the square," Caesar answered, "and the +noise is in the court; on the poor side of the house." + +"Pshaw! There is no reason to complain," remarked Mlle. Cadet, "if they +give us a serenade." + +"Do you consider yourself poor?" Mlle. de Sandoval asked Caesar, +disdainfully. + +"Yes, I consider myself poor, because I am." + +During the following days Mme. Dawson and her daughters were introduced +to the rest of the people in the hotel, and became intimate with them. +The "Contessina" Brenda and the San Martino girls made friends with the +French girls, and the Neapolitan and his gentlemen friends flitted among +them all. + +The Countess Brenda at first behaved somewhat stiff with Mme. Dawson and +her daughters, but later she little by little submitted and permitted +them to be her friends. + +She introduced the French ladies to the other ladies in the hotel; but +doubtless her aristocratic ideas would not allow her to consider Mlle. +Cadet a person worthy to be introduced, for whenever she got to her she +acted as if she didn't know her. + +The governess, noticing this repeated contempt, would blush at it, and +once she murmured, addressing Caesar with tears ready to escape from her +eyes: + +"That's a nice thing to do! Just because I am poor, I don't think they +ought to despise me." + +"Don't pay any attention," said Caesar, quite aloud; "these middle-class +people are often very rude." + +Mlle. de Sandoval gave Caesar a look half startled and half reproving; +and he explained, smiling: + +"I was telling Mlle. Cadet a funny story." + +Mme. Dawson and her daughters soon became friends with the most +distinguished persons in the hotel; only the Marchesa Sciacca, the +Maltese, avoided them as if they inspired her with profound contempt. + +In a few days the Countess Brenda and Caesar's friendship passed beyond +the bonds of friendship; but in the course of time it cooled off again. + + + +_INFLUENCE OF THE INCLINATION OF THE EARTH'S AXIS ON WHAT IS CALLED +LOVE_ + +One evening, when the Countess Brenda's daughter had left Rome to go +with her father to a villa they owned in the North, the Countess and +Caesar had a long conversation in the salon. They were alone; a great +tenor was singing at the Costanzi, and the whole hotel was at the +theatre. The Countess chatted with Caesar, she reclining in a chaise +longue, and he seated in a low chair. That evening the Countess was +feeling in a provocative humour, and she made fun of Caesar's mode of +life and his ideas, not with the phrases and the manners of a great +lady, but with the boldness and spice of a woman of the people. + +The angle that the earth's axis makes with the trajectory of the +ecliptic, and which produces those absurd phenomena that we Spaniards +call seasons, determined at that period the arrival of spring, and +spring had no doubt shaken the Countess Brenda's nerves. + +Spring gave cooling inflexions to the lady's voice and made her express +herself with warmth and with a shamelessly libertine air. + +No doubt the core of her personality was joyful, provoking, and somewhat +licentious. + +Her eyes flashed, and on her lips there was a sensual expression of +challenge and mockery. + +Caesar, that evening, without knowing why, was dull at expressing +himself, and depressed. Some of the Countess's questions left him in a +stupid unreadiness. + +"Poor child; I am sorry for you," she suddenly said. + +"Why?" + +"Because you are so weak; you have such an air of exhaustion. What do +you do to make you like this? I am sure you ought to be given some sort +of iron tonic, like the anaemic girls." + +"Do you really think I am so weak?" asked Caesar. + +"Isn't it written all over you?" + +"Well, anyway, I am stronger than you, Countess." + +"In a discussion, perhaps. But otherwise.... You have no strength except +in your brains." + +"And in my hands. Give me your hand." + +The Countess gave him her hand and Caesar pressed it tighter and +tighter. + +"You are strong after all," she said. + +"That is nothing. You wait," and Caesar squeezed the Countess's hand +until he made her give a sharp scream. A servant entered the salon. +"It's nothing," said the Countess, getting up; "I seemed to have turned +my foot." + +"I will take you to your room," exclaimed Caesar, offering her his arm. + +"No, no. Thanks very much." + +"Yes. It has to be." + +"Then, all right," she murmured, and added, "Now you frighten me." + +"Bah, you will get over that!" and Caesar went into her room with +her.... + +The next day Caesar appeared in the salon looking as if he had been +buried and dug up. + +"What is the matter?" Mme. Dawson and her daughters asked him. + +"Nothing; only I had a headache and I took a big dose of antipyrine." + +The relations of the Brenda lady and Caesar soon cooled. Their +temperaments were incompatible: there was no harmony between their +imaginations or between their skins. In reality, the Countess, with all +her romanticism, did not care for long and compromising liaisons, but +for hotel adventures, which leave neither vivid memories nor deep +imprints. Caesar noted that despite her lyricism and her sentimental +talk, there was a great deal of firmness in this plump woman, and a lack +of sensitiveness. + +Moreover, this woman, so little aristocratic in intimacy, had much +vanity about stupid things and a great passion for jewelry; but what +contributed most to making Caesar feel a profound hatred for her was +his discovering what good health she enjoyed. This good health seemed +offensive to Caesar, above all when he compared it to his own, to his +weak nerves and his restless brain. + +From considering her a spiritual and delicate lady he passed to +considering her a powerful mare, which deserved no more than a whip and +spurs. + +The love-affair contributed to upsetting Caesar and making him more +sarcastic and biting. This spiritual ulceration of Caesar's profoundly +astonished Mlle. Cadet. + +One day a Roman aristocrat, nothing less than a prince, came to call on +Mme. Dawson. He talked with her, with her daughters, and the Countess +Brenda, and held forth about whether the hotels in Rome were full or +empty, about the _pensions_, and the food in the restaurants, with a +great wealth of details; afterwards he lamented that Mme. Dawson, as a +relative of his, even though a very distant one, should have gone to a +ricevimento_ at the French Embassy, and he boasted of belonging to the +Black party in Rome. + +When he was gone, Mlle. Cadet came over to Caesar, who was sunk in an +arm-chair gazing at the ceiling, and asked him: + +"What did you think of the prince?" + +"What prince?" + +"The gentleman who was here talking a moment ago." + +"Ah, was he a prince?" + +"Yes." + +"As he talked about nothing but hotels, I took him to be the proprietor +of one." + +Mlle. Cadet told Mme. Dawson what Caesar had said, and she and her +daughters were amused at his error. + + + + +X + +A BALL + +A little later than the real day, they got up a ball at the hotel in +celebration of the French holiday Micareme. + +When Caesar was asked if he thought of going to the ball, he said no; +but Mlle. de Sandoval warned him that if he didn't go she would never +speak to him again, and Mme. Dawson and the governess threatened him +with like excommunication. + +"But you know, these balls are very amusing," said Mme. Dawson. + +"Do you think so?" + +"I do, and so do you." + +"Besides, an observer like you," added Mlle. Cadet, "can devote himself +to taking notes." + +"And why do you conclude that I am an observer?" asked Caesar. + +"The idea! Because it is evident." + +"And an observer with very evil intentions," insisted Mlle. de Sandoval. + +"You credit me with qualities I haven't got." + +Caesar had to accede, and the Dawson ladies and he were the first to +enter the salon and take their seats. In one corner was a glass vase +hung from the ceiling by a pulley. + +"What is that?" Mme. Dawson asked a servant. + +"It is a glass vase full of bonbons, which you have to break with a pole +with your eyes closed." + +"Ah, yes." + +Since nobody else came in, the Dawson girls and Caesar wandered about +looking into the cupboards and finding the Marchesa Sciacca's music and +the Neapolitan's. They looked out one of the salon windows. It was a +detestable night, raining and hailing; the great drops were bouncing on +the sidewalks of the Piazza Esedra. Water and hail fell mixed together, +and for moments at a time the ground would stay white, as if covered +with a thin coating of pearls. + +The fountain in the centre cast up its streams of water, which mingled +with the rain, and the central jet shone in the lays of the arc-lights; +now and again the livid brilliance of lightning illuminated the stone +arches and the rumbling of thunder was heard ... + +Still nobody else came to the salon. Doubtless the ladies were preparing +their toilets very carefully. + +The first to appear, dressed for the ball, were the Marchesa Sciacca and +her husband, accompanied by the inevitable Carminatti. + +The Marchesa, with her habitual brutality toward everybody that lived in +the house, bowed with formal coolness to Mme. Dawson, and sat down by +the piano, as far away as possible from the French ladies. + +She wore a gown of green silk, with lace and gold ornaments. She was +very decolletee and had a fretful air. Her husband was small and +stooped, with a long moustache and shiny eyes; on his cheek-bones were +the red spots frequent in consumptives, and he spoke in a sharp voice. + +"Are you acquainted with the Marquis?" Mme. Dawson asked Caesar. + +"Yes, he is a tiresome busybody," said Caesar, "the most boresome fellow +you could find. He stops you in the street to tell you things. The +other day he made me wait a quarter of an hour at the door of a tourist +agency, while he inquired the quickest way of getting to Moscow. 'Are +you thinking of going there?' I asked him. 'No; I just wanted to find +out ....' He is an idiot." + +"God preserve us from your comments. What will you be saying about us?" +exclaimed Mlle. de Sandoval. + +The Countess Brenda entered, with her husband, her daughter, and a +friend. She was dressed in black, low in the neck, and wore a collar of +brilliants as big as filberts, which surrounded her bosom with rays of +light and blinding reflections. + +Her friend was a young lady of consummate beauty; a brunette with colour +in her skin and features of flawless perfection; with neither the +serious air nor the statuesqueness of a great beauty, and with none +of the negroid tone of most brunettes. When she smiled she showed her +teeth, which were a burst of whiteness. She was rather loaded with +jewels, which gave her the aspect of an ancient goddess. + +"You, who find everything wrong," said Mlle. Cadet to Caesar, "what have +you to say of that woman? I have been looking at her ever since she came +in, and I don't find the slightest defect." + +"Nor I. It is a face which gives no indication that the least shadow of +sorrow has ever crossed it. It is beauty as serene as a landscape or as +the sea when calm. Moreover, that very perfection robs it of character. +It seems to be less a human face than a symbol of an apathetic being and +an apathetic beauty." + +"We have found her defect," said Mlle. Cadet. + +After introducing her friend to the ladies and to the young men, who +were all dazzled, the Countess Brenda sat down near Mme. Dawson, in an +antique arm-chair. + +She was imposing. + +"You look like a queen holding audience," Mlle. de Sandoval said to her. + +"Your beloved is like an actual monument," Mlle. Cadet murmured +jokingly, aside to Caesar. + +"Yes, I think we ought to station a veteran at the door," retorted +Caesar. + +"A veteran! No, for mercy's sake! Poor lady! A warrior in active +service, one on whom all the antipyrine in the world would make no +impression," Mlle. Cadet replied maliciously. + +Caesar smiled at the allusion. + + + +_SILENO MACARRONI_ + +Among the people there was one gentlerman that attracted Mlle. Cadet's +special attention. He was apart from any group, but he knew everybody +that arrived. This gentleman was fat, smiling, smooth-shaven, with a +round, chubby, rosy face and the body of a Silenus. When he spoke +he arched and lowered his eyebrows alternately, rolled his eyes, +gesticulated with his fat, soft hands, and smiled and showed his teeth. + +His way of greeting people was splendid. + +"Come sta, marchesa?" he would say. "Cavaliere!" "Commendatore!" +"La contessina va bene?" "Oh! Egregio!" + +And the good gentleman would spread his arms, and close them, and +look as if he wanted to embrace the whole of humanity to his abdomen, +covered with a white waistcoat. + +"Who can that gentleman be?" Mlle. Cadet asked various times. + +"That? That is Signor Sileno Macarroni," said Caesar, "Commander of the +Order of the Mighty Belly, Knight of the Round Buttocks, and of other +distinguished Orders." + +"He is a singer," said the Countess Brenda to Mlle. de Sandoval in a low +tone. + +"He is a singer," repeated Mlle. de Sandoval to her governess in a +similar tone. + +"Sileno Macarroni is a singer," said Mlle. Cadet, with equal +mysteriousness, addressing Caesar. + +"But is our friend Macarroni going to sung?" asked Caesar. + +The question was passed from one person to another, and it was +discovered that Macarroni was going to sing. As a matter of fact, the +fat Silenus did sing, and everybody was startled to hear a high tenor +voice issue from within that voluminous human being. The fat Silenus had +the misfortune to sing false in the midst of his bravest trills, and the +poor soul was overcome, despite the applause. + +"Poor Macarroni!" said Caesar, "his high tenor heart must be broken +to bits." "He is going," put in Mlle. Cadet. "What a shame!" Sileno +vanished and the pianist began to play waltzes. + + + +_THE WORLD AS A ZOOLOGICAL GARDEN_ + +Carminatti was the first on the floor with his partner, who was the +Marchesa Sciacca. + +The Maltese lady danced with an abandon and a feline languor that +imposed respect. One of the San Martino girls, dressed in white, like +a vaporous fairy, danced with an officer in a blue uniform, a slim, +distinguished person with languid eyes and rosy cheeks, who caused a +veritable sensation among the ladies. + +The other San Martino, in pale pink, was on a sofa chatting with a man +of the cut-throat type, of jaundiced complexion, with bright eyes and a +moustache so long as almost to touch his eyebrows. + +"He is a Sicilian," Mlle. Cadet told Caesar; "behind us here they are +saying rather curious things about the two of them." + +The Countess Brenda's daughter was magnificent, with her milk-white +skin, and her arms visible through gauze. Despite her beauty she didn't +count many admirers; she was too insipid, and the majority of the young +men turned with greater enthusiasm to the married women and to those of +a very provocative type. + +Mlle. de Sandoval, the most sought after of all, didn't wish to dance. + +"My daughter is really very stiff," Mme. Dawson remarked. "Spanish women +are like that." + +"Yes, they often are," said Caesar. + +Among all these Italians, who were rather theatrical and ridiculous, +insincere and exaggerated, but who had great pliancy and great agility +in their movements and their expression, there was one German family, +consisting of several persons: a married couple with sons and daughters +who seemed to be all made from one piece, cut from the same block. While +the rest were busy with the little incidents of the ball, they were +talking about the Baths of Caracalla, the aqueducts, the Colosseum. The +father, the mother, and the children repeated their lesson in Roman +archeology, which they had learned splendidly. + +"What very absurd people they are," murmured Caesar, watching them. + +"Why?" said Mlle. de Sandoval. + +"It appeals to these Germans as their duty to make one parcel of +everything artistic there is in a country and swallow it whole; which +seems to an ignoramus like me, a stupid piece of pretentiousness. The +French, on the contrary, are on more solid ground; they don't understand +anything that is not French, and they travel to have the pleasure of +saying that Paris is the finest thing on earth." + +"It's great luck to be so perfect as you are," retorted Mlle. de +Sandoval, violently, "you can see other people's faults so clearly." + +"You mistake," replied Caesar, coldly, "I do not rely on my own good +qualities to enable me to speak badly of others." + +"Then what do you rely on?" + +"On my defects." + +"Ah, have you defects? Do you admit it?" + +"I not only admit it, but I take pride in having them." + +Mlle. de Sandoval turned her head away contemptuously; the twist Caesar +gave to her questions appeared to irritate her. + +"Mlle. de Sandoval doesn't like me much," said Caesar to Mlle. Cadet. + +"No? She generally says nice things about you." + +"Perhaps my clothes appeal to her, or the way I tie my cravat; but my +ideas displease her." + +"Because you say such severe things." + +"Why do you say that at this moment? Because I spoke disparagingly of +those Germans? Are they attractive to you?" + +"Oh, no! Not at all." + +"They look like hunting dogs." "But whom do you approve of? The +English?" + +"Not the English, either. They are a herd of cattle; sentimental, +ridiculous people who are in ecstatics over their aristocracy and over +their king. Latin peoples are something like cats, they are of the +feline race; a Frenchman is like a fat, well-fed cat; an Italian is like +an old Angora which has kept its beautiful fur; and the Spaniard is like +the cats on a roof, skinny, bare of fur, almost too weak to howl with +despair and hunger.... Then there are the ophidians, the Jews, the +Greeks, the Armenians...." + +"Then for you the world is a zoological garden?" + +"Well, isn't it?" + +At midnight they tried to break the glass jar of bonbons. They +blindfolded various men, and one by one they made them turn around a +couple of times and then try to break the jar with a stick. + +It was the Marquis Sciacca that did break the glass vase, and the pieces +fell on his head. + +"Have you hurt yourself?" people asked him. + +"No," said Caesar, reassuringly, but aside; "his head is protected." + + + +_CHIROMANTIC INTERLUDE_ + +After this cornucopia number, there was a series of other games and +amusements, which required a hand-glass, a candle, and a bottle. The +conversation in Mlle. de Sandoval's group jumped from one thing to +another and finally arrived at palmistry. + +Mlle. de Sandoval asked Caesar if he, as a Spaniard, knew how to tell +fortunes by the hand, and he jokingly replied that he did. Three or +four hands were stretched out toward Caesar, and he said whatsoever his +imagination suggested, foolishness, absurdities, impertinences; a little +of everything. + +When anybody was a bit puzzled at Caesar's words, he said: + +"Don't pay any attention to it; these are absurdities." + +Afterwards Mlle. Cadet told Caesar that she was going to cast his +horoscope. "Good! Out with it." + +The governess, who was clever, studied Caesar's hand and expressed +herself in sibylline terms: + +"You have something of everything, a little of some things and a great +deal of others; you are not a harmonious individual." + +"No?" + +"No. You are very intelligent." + +"Thank you." + +"Let the sibyl talk," said the Sandoval girl. + +"You have a strong sense of logic," the governess went on. + +"That's possible." + +"You are good and bad! You have much imagination and very little; you +are at the same time very brave and very timid. You have a loving +nature, but it is asleep, and little will-power." + +"Little and ... a great deal," said Caesar. + +"No, little." + +"Do you believe that I have little will-power?" + +"I am telling you what your hand says." + +"Look here. My hand's opinion doesn't interest me so much as yours, +because you are an intelligent woman. Do you believe I have no +will-power?" + +"A sibyl doesn't discuss her affirmations." + +"Now you are worried about your lack of will-power," said Mlle. de +Sandoval, mockingly. + +"Yes, I am, a bit." + +"Well, I think you have will-power enough," she retorted; "what you do +lack is a little more amiability." + +"Fortunately for you and for me, you are not so perspicacious in +psychology as this young lady." + +"I don't expect to earn my living telling fortunes." + +"I don't believe this young lady expects to, either. You have told me +what I am," Caesar pursued; "now tell me what is going to happen to me." + +"Let me look," said Mlle. Cadet; "close your hand. You will make a +journey." "Very good! I like that." + +"You will get into a desperate struggle...." + +"I like that, too." + +"And you will win, and you will be defeated...." + +"I don't like that so much." + +Mile. Cadet could not give other details. Her sibylline science extended +no further. During this chiromantic interlude, the dancing kept up, +until finally, about three in the morning, the party ended. + + + + +XI + +A SOUNDING-LINE IN THE DARK WORLD + +_THE ADVICE OF TWO ABBES_ + + +The Abbe Preciozi several times advised Caesar to make a new attempt at +a reconciliation with the Cardinal; but Caesar always refused. + +"He is a man incapable of understanding me," he would insist with naive +arrogance. + +Preciozi felt a great liking for his new friend, who invited him to +meals at good hotels and treated him very frequently. Almost every +morning he went to call on Caesar on one pretext or another, and they +would go for a walk and chat about various things. + +Preciozi was beginning to believe that his friend was a man with a +future. Some explanations that Caesar gave him about the mechanism of +the stock-exchange convinced the abbe that he was in the presence of a +great financier. + +Preciozi talked to all his friends and acquaintances about Cardinal +Fort's nephew, picturing him as an extraordinary man; some took these +praises as a joke; others thought that it was really very possible that +the Spaniard had great talent; only one abbe, who was a teacher in a +college, felt a desire to meet the Cardinal's nephew, and Preciozi +introduced him to Caesar. + +This abbe was named Cittadella, and he was fat, rosy, and blond; he +looked more like a singer than a priest. + +Caesar invited the two abbes to dine at a restaurant and requested +Preciozi to do the ordering. + +"So you are a nephew of Cardinal Fort's?" asked Cittadella. "Yes." + +"His own nephew?" + +"His own nephew; son of his sister." + +"And he hasn't done anything for you?" + +"Nothing." + +"It's a pity. He is a man of great influence, of great talent." + +"Influence, I believe; talent, I doubt," said Caesar. + +"Oh, no, no! He is an intelligent man." + +"But I have heard that his _Theological Commentaries_ is absolutely +absurd." + +"No, no." + +"A crude, banal book, full of stupidities...." + +"_Macche_!" exclaimed the indignant Preciozi, neglecting the culinary +conflict he was engaged in. + +"All right. It makes no difference," replied Caesar, smiling. "Whether +he is a famous man, as you two say, or a blockhead, as I think, the fact +remains that my uncle doesn't wish to have anything to do with me." + +"You must have done something to him," said Cittadella. + +"No; the only thing is that when I was small they told me the Cardinal +wished me to be a priest, and I answered that I didn't care to be." + +"And why so?" + +"It seems to me a poor job. It's evident that one doesn't make much at +it." + +Cittadella sighed. + +"Yes, and what's more," Preciozi put in, "this gentleman says to anybody +who cares to listen, that religion is a farce, that Catholicism is like +a dish of Jewish meat with Roman sauce. Is it possible that a Cardinal +should bother about a nephew that talks like that?" + +The Abbe Cittadella looked very serious and remarked that it is +necessary to believe, or at least to seem to believe, in the truths of +religion. + +"Is the Cardinal supposed to have money?" asked Caesar. + +"Yes, I should say he is," replied Preciozi. "Your sister and you will +be the only heirs," said Cittadella. + +"Of course," agreed Preciozi. + +"Has he made a will?" asked Caesar. + +"All the better if he hasn't," said one of the abbes. + +"If we could only poison him," sighed Caesar, with melancholy. + +"Don't talk of such things just as we are going to eat," said Preciozi. + +The dinner was brought, and the two abbes did it the honour it deserved. + +Preciozi deserved congratulations for his excellent selection. They +ordered good wines and drank merry toasts. + +"What an admirable secretary Preciozi would be, if I got to be a +personage!" exclaimed Caesar. "Twenty thousand francs or so salary, his +board, and the duty of choosing the dinner for the next day. That's my +proposal." + +The abbe blushed with pleasure, emptied his glass of wine, and murmured: + +"If it depended on me!" + +"The fact is that the way things are arranged today is no good," said +Caesar. "A hundred years ago, by the mere fact of being a Cardinal's +nephew, I should have been somebody." + +"That's true," exclaimed Preciozi. + +"And as I should have no scruples, and neither would you two, we would +have plunged into life strenuously, and sacked Rome, and the whole world +would be ours." + +"You talk like a Caesar Borgia," said Preciozi, aroused. "You are a true +Spaniard." + +"Today one must have something to stand on," said Cittadella, coldly. + +"Friend Cittadella," retorted Caesar, "I, as you see me here, am the man +who knows the most about financial matters in all Spain, and I believe I +shall soon get to where I can say, in all Europe. I put my knowledge at +the service of whoever pays me. I am like one of your old _condottieri_, +a mercenary general. I am ready to win battles for the Jewish bank, or +against the Jewish bank, for the Church or against the Church." + +"For the Church is better. Against the Church we cannot assist you," +said Preciozi. + +"I will try first, for the Church. To whom can you recommend me first?" + +The two abbes said nothing, and drank in silence. + +"Perhaps Verry would see him," said Cittadella. + +"Hm! ..." replied Preciozi. "I rather doubt it." + +"What sort of a party is he?" asked Caesar. + +"He is one of those _prelati_ that come out of the College of Nobles," +said Cittadella, "and who get on, even if they are no good. Here they +consider him a haughty Spaniard; they blame him for wearing his robes, +and for always taking an automobile when he goes to Castel Gandolfo. The +priests hate him because he is a Jesuit and a Spaniard." + +"And wherein does his strength lie?" + +"In the Society, and in his knowing several languages. He was educated +in England." + +"From what you two tell me of him, he gives me the impression of a +fatuous person." + +A bottle of champagne was brought in and the three of them drank, +toasting and touching glasses. + +"If I were in your place," said Cittadella, after thinking a long while, +"I shouldn't try to get at people in high places, but people who are +inconspicuous and yet have influence in your country." + +"For instance...." + +"For instance, Father Herreros, at the convent in Trastevere." + +"And Father Miro too," added Preciozi, "and if you could talk to Father +Ferrer, of the Gregorian University, it wouldn't be a bad idea." + +"That will be more difficult," said Cittadella. + +"You could tell them," Preciozi suggested, "that your uncle the Cardinal +sent you, and hint that he doesn't want anybody to know that he is +backing you." "And if somebody should write to my uncle?" + +"You mustn't say anything definite. You must speak ambiguously. Besides, +in case they did write, we would fix it up in the office." + +Caesar began to laugh naively. Afterwards, the two abbes, a little +excited by the food and the good wine, started in to have a violent +discussion, speaking Italian. Caesar paid the bill, and pretending that +he had an urgent engagement, took leave of them and went out. + + + +_A SPANISH MONK_ + +The next day Caesar went to look up Father Herreros. He had not yet +succeeded in forming a plan. His only idea was to see if he could take +advantage of some chance: to follow a scent and be on the alert, in case +something new should start up on one side or the other. + +Father Herreros lived in a convent in Trastevere. Caesar took the tram +in the Piazza Venezia, and got out after crossing the Tiber, near the +Via delle Fratte. + +He soon found the convent; it had a yellow portal with a Latin +inscription which sang the gymnastic glories of Saint Pascual Bailon. +Above the inscription there was a picture, in which a monk, no doubt +Bailon, was dancing among the clouds. + +On the lintel of the gate were the arms of Spain, and at the sides, two +medallions bearing hands wounded in the palm. + +The convent door was old and quartered. Caesar knocked. + +A lay-brother, with a suspicious glance, came out to admit him, told him +to wait, and left him alone. After some while, he came back and asked +him to follow him. + +They went down a small passage and up a staircase, which was at the +end, and then along a corridor on the main floor. On one side of this +corridor, in his cell, they found Father Herreros. + +Caesar, after bowing and introducing himself, sat down, as the monk +asked him to do, in a chair with its back to the light. Caesar began to +explain why he had come, and as he had prepared what he was going to +say, he employed his attention, while speaking, on the cage and the kind +of big bird which were before his eyes. + +Father Herreros had a big rough head, black heavy eyebrows, a short +nose, an enormous mouth, yellow teeth, and grey hair. He wore a +chocolate-coloured robe, open enough to show his whole neck down to his +chest. The movement of the good monk's lips was that of a man who wished +to pass for keen and insinuating. His robe was dirty and he doubtless +had the habit of leaving cigarette stubs on the table. + +The cell had one window, and in front of it a bookcase. Caesar made an +effort to read the titles. They were almost all Latin books, the kind +that nobody reads. + +Father Herreros began to ask Caesar questions. In his brain, he was +doubtless wondering why Cardinal Fort's nephew should come to him. + +After many useless words they got to the concrete point that Caesar +wanted to take up, Father Herreros's acquaintance in Spain, and the monk +said that he knew a very rich widow who had property in Toledo. When +Caesar went to Madrid, he would give him a letter of recommendation to +her. + +"I cannot keep you any longer now, because a Mexican lady is waiting for +me," said Father Herreros. + +Caesar arose, and after shaking the monk's fat hand, he left the +convent. He returned to Rome on foot, crossing the river again, and +looking at the Tiberine island; and arrived without hurrying at the +hotel. He wrote to his friend Azugaray, requesting him to discover, by +the indications he gave him, who the rich widow that had property in +Toledo could be. + + + +_THE LICENTIATE MIRO_ + +The next day Caesar decided to pursue his investigations, and went to +see Father Miro. + +Father Miro lived in a college in the Via Monserrato. Caesar inspected +the map of Rome, looking for that street, and found that it is located +in the vicinity of the Campo de' Fiori, and took his way thither. + +The spring day was magnificent; the sky was blue, without a cloud; the +tiled roofs of some of the palaces were decorated with borders of +plants and flowers; in the street, dry and flooded with sunshine, a +water-carrier in a cart full of fat, green bottles, passed by, singing +and cracking his whip. + +Caesar crossed the Campo de' Fiori, a very lively, plebeian square, full +of canvas awnings with open stalls of fruit under them. In the middle +stood the statue of Giordano Bruno, with a crown of flowers around its +neck. + +Then he took the Via de' Cappellari, a narrow lane and dirty enough. +From one side to the other clothes were hung out to dry. + +He came to the college and entered the church contiguous to it. He asked +for Father Miro; a sacristan with a long moustache and a worn blue +overcoat, took him to another entrance, made him mount an old wooden +staircase, and conducted him to the office of the man he was looking +for. + +Father Miro was a tiny little man, dark and filthy, with a worn-out +cassock, covered with dandruff, and a large dirty square cap with a big +rosette. + +"Will you tell me what you want?" said the little priest in a sullen +tone. + +Caesar introduced himself, and explained in a few words who he was and +what he proposed. + +Father Miro, without asking him to sit down, answered rapidly, saying +that he had no acquaintance with matters of finance or speculation. + +Caesar felt a shudder of anger at the rudeness with which he was treated +by this draggled little priest, and felt a vehement desire to take him +by the neck and twist it, like a chicken's. + +Despite his anger, he did not change expression, and he asked the priest +smilingly if he knew who could give him advice about those questions. + +"You can see Father Ferrer at the Gregorian University, or Father +Mendia. He is an encyclopedist. It was he who wrote the theological +portion of the encyclical _Pascendi_, the one about Modernism. He is a +man of very great learning." + +"He will do. Many thanks," and Caesar turned toward the door. + +"Excuse me for not having asked you to sit down, but ..." + +"No matter," Caesar replied, rapidly, and he went out to the stairs. + +In view of the poor result of his efforts, he decided to go to the +Gregorian University. He was told it was in the Via del Seminario, and +supposed it must be the large edifice with little windowed bridges over +two streets. + +That edifice was the Collegio Romano; the Gregorian University was in +the same street, but further on, opposite the Post Office Department. +Father Ferrer could not receive him, because he was holding a class; and +after they had gone up and come down and taken Caesar's card for Father +Mendia, they told him he was out. + +Caesar concluded that it was not so easy to find a crack through which +one could get information of what was going on in the clerical world. + +"I see that the Church gives them all a defensive instinct which they +make good use of. They are really only poor devils, but they have a +great organization, and it cannot be easy to get one's fingers through +the meshes of their net." + + + + +XII + +A MEETING ON THE PINCIO + +_A WALK IN THE VILLA BORGHESE_ + + +At the beginning of Holy Week Laura returned to the hotel, at +lunch-time. + +"And your husband?" Caesar asked her. + +"He didn't want to come. Rome bores him. He is giving all his attention +to taking care of the heart-disease he says he has." + +"Is it serious?" + +"I think not. Every time I see him I find him with a new disease and a +new diet; one time it is vegetarian, another nothing but meat, another +time he says one should eat only grapes, or nothing but bread." + +"Then I see that he belongs to the illustrious brotherhood of the +insane." + +"You are not far from joining that brotherhood yourself." + +"Dear sister, I am one of the few sane men that go stumbling around this +insane asylum let loose we call the earth." + +"What you say about men is the truth, even though you are not an +exception. Really, the more I have to do with men, the more convinced I +am that any one of them who is not crazy, is stupid or vain or proud.... +How much more intelligent, discreet, logical we women are!" + +"Don't tell me. You are marvels; modest, kindly toward your rivals, so +little given to humiliating your neighbours, male or female...." + +"Yes, yes; but we are not so conceited or such play-actors as you are. +A woman may think herself pretty and amiable and sweet, and not be so. +That is true; but on the other hand, every man thinks himself braver +than the Cid, even if he is afraid of a fly, and more talented than +Seneca, even if he is a dolt." + +"To sum up, men are a calamity." + +"Just so." + +"And women spend their lives fishing for these calamities." + +"They need them; there are inferior things which still are necessary." + +"And there are superior things which are good for nothing." + +"Will you come and take a drive with me, philosopher brother?" + +"Where?" + +"Let's go to the Villa Borghese. The carriage will be here in a moment." + +"All right. Let us go there." + +A two-horse victoria with rubber tires was waiting at the door, and +Laura and Caesar got in. The carriage went past the Treasury, and out +the Porta Salaria, and entered the gardens of the Villa Borghese. + +The morning had been rainy; the ground was damp; the wind waved the +tree-tops gently and caused a murmur like the tide. The carriage rolled +slowly along the avenues. Laura was very gay and chatty. Caesar listened +to her as one listens to a bird warbling. + +Many times while listening he thought: "What is there inside this head? +What is the master idea of her life? Has she really any idea about life, +or has she none?" + +After several rounds they crossed the viaduct that unites the Villa +Borghese with the Pincio gardens. + + + +_FROM THE PINCIO TERRACE_ + +They approached the great terrace of the gardens by an avenue that has +busts of celebrated men along both sides. + +"Poor great men!" exclaimed Caesar. "Their statues serve only to +decorate a public garden." "They had their lives," replied Laura, gaily; +"now we have ours." + +Laura ordered the coachman to stop a moment. The air was still murmuring +in the foliage, the birds singing, and the clouds flying slowly across +the sky. + +A man with a black box approached the carriage to offer them postcards. + +"Buy two or three," said Laura. + +Caesar bought a few and put them into his pocket. The vendor withdrew +and Laura continued to look at Rome with enthusiasm. + +"Oh, how beautiful, how lovely it is! I never get tired of looking at +it. It is my favourite city. '_O fior d'ogni citta, donna del mondo_.'" + +"She is no longer mistress of the world, little sister." + +"For me she is. Look at St. Peter's. It looks like a shred of cloud." + +"Yes, that's so. It's of a blue shade that seems transparent." + +Bells were ringing and great majestic white clouds kept moving along the +horizon; on the Janiculum the statue of Garibaldi rose up gallantly into +the air, like a bird ready to take wing. + +"When I look at Rome this way," murmured Laura, "I feel a pang, a pang +of grief." + +"Why?" + +"Because I remember that I must die, and then I shall not come back +to see Rome. She will be here still, century after century, full of +sunlight, and I shall be dead.... It is horrible, horrible!" + +"And your religion?" + +"Yes, I know. I believe I shall see other things; but not these things +that are so beautiful." + +"You are an Epicurean." + +"It is so beautiful to be alive!" + +They stayed there looking at the panorama. Below, in the Piazza del +Popolo, they saw a red tram slipping along, which looked, at that +distance, like a toy. + +A tilbury, driven by a woman, stopped near their carriage. The woman was +blond with green eyes, prominent cheek-bones, and a little fur cap. At +her feet lay an enormous dog with long flame-coloured hair. + +"She must be a Russian," said Caesar. + +"Yes. Do you like that type?" + +"She has a lot of character. She looks like one of the women that would +order servants to be whipped." + +The Russian was smiling vaguely. Laura told the coachman to drive on. +They made a few rounds in the avenues of the Pincio. The music was +beginning; a few carriages, and groups of soldiers and seminarians, +crowded around the bandstand; Laura didn't care for brass bands, they +were too noisy for her, and she gave the coachman orders to drive to the +Corso. + + + +_MEETING MARCHMONT_ + +They passed in front of the Villa Medici, and when they got near the +Piazza, della Trinita de' Monti they met a man on horseback, who, on +seeing them, immediately approached the carriage. It was Archibald +Marchmont, who had just arrived in Rome. + +"I thought you had forgotten us," said Laura. + +"I forget you, Marchesa! Never." + +"You say you came to Rome...." + +"From Nice I had to return to London, because my father was seriously +ill with an attack of gout." + +"He is well again?" + +"Yes, thank you. You are coming back from a drive?" + +"Yes." + +"Don't you want to come and have tea with my wife and me?" + +"Where?" + +"At the Hotel Excelsior. We are staying there. Will you come?" "All +right." + +Laura accepted, and they went to the Via Veneto with the Englishman +riding beside them. + +They went into the hotel and passed through to the "hall" full of +people, Marchmont sent word to his wife by a servant, to come down. +Laura and Caesar seated themselves with the Englishman. + +"This hotel is unbearable," exclaimed Marchmont; "there is nothing here +but Americans." + +"Your wife, however, must like that," said Caesar. + +"No. Susanna is more European every day, and she doesn't care for the +shrieking elegance of her compatriots. Besides, her father is here, and +that makes her feel less American." + +"It is an odd form of filial enthusiasm," remarked Caesar. + +"It doesn't shock me. I almost think it's the rule," replied Marchmont; +"at home I could see that my brothers and sisters hated one another +cordially, and that every member of the family wanted to get away from +the others. You two who are so fond of each other are a very rare +instance. Is it frequent in Spain that brothers and sisters like one +another?" + +"Yes, there are instances of it," answered Caesar, laughing. + +Mrs. Marchmont arrived, accompanied by an old man who evidently was her +father, and two other men. Susanna was most smart; she greeted Laura and +Caesar very affably, and presented her father, Mr. Russell; then she +presented an English author, tall, skinny, with blue eyes, a white +beard, and hair like a halo; and then a young Englishman from the +Embassy, a very distinguished person named Kennedy, who was a Catholic. + + + +_TEA_ + +After the introductions they passed into the dining-room, which was +most impressive. It was an exhibition of very smart women, some of +them ideally beautiful, and idle men. All about them resounded a nasal +English of the American sort. + +Susanna Marchmont served the tea and did the honours to her guests. +They all talked French, excepting Mr. Russell, who once in a long while +uttered some categorical monosyllable in his own language. + +Mr. Russell was not of the classic Yankee type; he looked like a vulgar +Englishman. He was a serious man, with a short moustache, grey-headed, +with three or four gold teeth. + +What to Caesar seemed wonderful in this gentleman was his economy of +words. There was not one useless expression in his vocabulary, and +not the slightest redundancy; whatever partook of merit, prestige, or +nobility was condensed, for him, to the idea of value; whatever partook +of arrangement, cleanliness, order, was condensed to the word "comfort"; +so that Mr. Russell, with a very few words, had everything specified. + +To Susanna, imbued with her preoccupation in supreme _chic_, her father +no doubt did not seem a completely decorative father; but he gave Caesar +the impression of a forceful man. + +Near them, at a table close by, was a little blond man, with a hooked +nose and a scanty imperial, in company with a fat lady. They bowed to +Marchmont and his wife. + +"That gentleman looks like a Jew," said Caesar. + +"He is," replied Marchmont, "that is Senor Pereyra, a rich Jew; of +Portuguese origin, I think." + +"How quickly you saw it!" exclaimed Susanna. + +"He has that air of a sick goat, so frequent in Jews." + +"His wife has nothing sickly about her, or thin either," remarked Laura. + +"No," said Caesar; "his wife represents another Biblical type; one of +the fat kine of somebody's dream, which foretold abundance and a good +harvest." + +The Englishman, Kennedy, had also little liking for Jews. + +"I do not hate a Jew as anti-Christian," said Caesar; "but as +super-Christian. Nor do I hate the race, but the tendency they have +never to be producers, but always middlemen, and because they incarnate +so well for our era the love of money, and of joy and pleasure." + +The English author was a great partisan of Jews, and he asserted that +they were more distinguished in science and the arts than any other +race. The Jewish question was dropped in an instant, when they saw a +smart lady come in accompanied by a pale man with a black shock of hair +and an uneasy eye. + +"That is the Hungarian violinist Kolozsvar," said Susanna. + +"Kolozsvar, Kolozsvar!" they heard everybody saying. + +"Is he a great virtuoso?" Caesar asked Kennedy. + +"No, I think not," answered Kennedy. "It seems that this Hungarian's +speciality is playing the waltzes and folk-songs of his own country, +which is certainly not anything great; but his successes are not +obtained with the violin, but among the women. The ladies in London +fight for him. His game is to pass himself off as a fallen man, +depraved, worn-out. There you have his phraseology.... They see a man to +save, to raise up, and convert into a great artist, and almost all of +them yield to this temptation." + +"That is comical," said Caesar, looking curiously at the fiddler and his +lady. + +"To a Spaniard," replied Kennedy, "it is comical; and probably it would +be to an Italian too; but in England there are many women that have a +purely imaginative idealism, a romanticism fed on ridiculous novels, and +they fall into traps like these, which seem clumsy and grotesque to you +here in the South, where people are more clear-sighted and realistic." + +Caesar watched the brave fiddler, who played the role of a man used up, +to great perfection. + +After tea, Susanna invited them to go up to her rooms, and Laura and her +brother and Kennedy and Mr. Russell went. + +The English author had met a colleague, with whom he stayed behind +talking, and Marchmont remained in the "hall," as if it did not seem to +him proper for him to go to his wife's rooms. + +Susanna's rooms were very high, had balconies on the Via Veneto, and +were almost opposite Queen Margherita's palace. One overlooked the +garden and could see the Queen Mother taking her walks, which is not +without its importance for persons who live in a republic. + +Susanna was most amiable to Laura; repeated to all of them her +invitation to come and see her again; and after they had all promised +to see one another frequently, Caesar and Laura went down to their +carriage, and took a turn on the Corso by twilight. + + + + +XIII + +ESTHETICS AND DEMAGOGY + +_SUSANNA AND THE YOUNGSTERS_ + + +From this meeting on, Caesar noticed that Marchmont paid court to Laura +with much persistence. A light-hearted, coquettish woman, it pleased +Laura to be pursued by a person like this Englishman, young, +distinguished, and rich; but she was not prepared to yield. Her +bringing-up, her class-feelings impelled her to consider adultery a +heinous thing. Nor was divorce a solution for her, since accepting it +would oblige her to cease being a Catholic and to quarrel irrevocably +with the Cardinal. Marchmont showed no discretion in the way he paid +court to Laura; he cared nothing about his wife, and talked of her with +profound contempt.... + +Laura found herself besieged by the Englishman; she couldn't decide to +discourage him entirely, and at critical moments she would take the +train, go off to Naples, and come back two or three days later, +doubtless with more strength for withstanding the siege. + +"As a matter of reciprocal justice, since he makes love to my sister, +I ought to make love to his wife," thought Caesar, and he went several +times to the Hotel Excelsior to call on Susanna. + +The Yankee wife was full of complaints against her husband. Her father +had advised her simply to get a divorce, but she didn't want to. +She found such a solution lacking in distinction, and no doubt she +considered the advice of an author in her own country very true, who had +given this triple injunction to the students of a woman's college: "Do +not drink, that is, do not drink too much; do not smoke, that is, do not +smoke too much; and do not get married, that is, do not get married too +much." + +It did not seem quite right to Susanna to get married too much. Besides +she had a desire to become a Catholic. One day she questioned Caesar +about it: + +"You want to change your religion!" exclaimed Caesar, "What for? I don't +believe you are going to find your lost faith by becoming a Catholic." + +"And what do you think about it, Kennedy?" Susanna asked the young +Englishman, who was there too. + +"To me a Catholic woman seems doubly enchanting." + +"You would not marry a woman who wasn't a Catholic?" + +"No, indeed," the Englishman proclaimed. + +Caesar and Kennedy disagreed about everything. + +Susanna discussed her plans, and constantly referred to Paul Bourget's +novel _Cosmopolis_, which had obviously influenced her in her +inclination for Catholicism. + +"Are there many Jewish ladies who aspire to be baptized and become +Catholics, as Bourget says?" asked Susanna. + +"Bah!" exclaimed Caesar. + +"You do not believe that either?" + +"No, it strikes me as a piece of naivety in this good soul of a +novelist. To become a Catholic, I don't believe requires more than some +few pesetas." + +"You are detestable, as a Cardinal's nephew." + +"I mean that I don't perceive that there are any obstacles to prevent +anybody from becoming a Catholic, as there are to prevent his becoming +rich. What a high ambition, to aspire to be a Catholic! While nobody +anywhere does anything but laugh at Catholics; and it has become an +axiom: 'A Catholic country is a country bound for certain ruin.'" + +Kennedy burst out laughing. + +Susanna said that she had no real faith, but that she did have a great +enthusiasm for churches and for choirs, for the smell of incense and +religious music. + +"Spain is the place for all that," said Kennedy. "Here in Italy the +Church ceremonies are too gay. Not so in Spain; at Toledo, at Burgos, +there is an austerity in the cathedrals, an unworldliness...." + +"Yes," said Caesar; "unhappily we have nothing left there but +ceremonies. At the same time, the people are dying of hunger." + +They discussed whether it is better to live in a decorative, esthetic +sphere, or in a more humble and practical one; and Susanna and Kennedy +stood up for the superiority of an esthetic life. + +As they left the hotel Caesar said to Kennedy: + +"Allow me a question. Have you any intentions concerning Mrs. +Marchmont?" + +"Why do you ask?" + +"Simply because I shouldn't go to see her often, so as not to be in the +way." + +"Thank you ever so much. But I have no intentions in relation to her. +She is too beautiful and too rich a woman for a modest employee like me +to fix his eyes on." + +"Bah! A modest diplomat! That is absurd. It is merely that you don't +take to her." + +"No. It's because she is a queen. There ought to be some defect in her +face to make her human." + +"Yes; that's true. She is too much of a prize beauty." + +"That is the defect in the Yankee women; they have no character. The +weight of tradition might be fatal to industry and modern life, but it +is the one thing that creates the spirituality of the old countries. +Beyond contradiction American women have intelligence, beauty, energy, +attractive flashes, but they lack that particular thing created by +centuries: character. At times they have very charming impulses. Have +you heard the story about Prince Torlonia's wife?" + +"No." + +"Well, Torlonia's present wife was an American girl worth millions, who +came with letters to the prince. He took her about Rome, and at the end +of some days he said to her, supposing that the beautiful American had +the intention of marrying: 'I will introduce some young noblemen to +you'; and she answered: 'Don't introduce anybody to me; because you +please me more than anybody'; and she married him." + +"It was a pretty impulse." + +"Yes, Americans do things like that on the spur of the moment. But if +you saw a Spanish woman behave that way, it would seem wrong to you." + +Chattering amicably they came to the Piazza Esedra. + +"Would you care to have lunch with me?" said Kennedy. + +"Just what I was going to propose to you." + +"I eat alone." + +"I do not. I eat with my sister." + +"The Marchesa di Vaccarone?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you must pardon me if I accept your invitation, for I am very +anxious to meet her." + +"Then come along." + + + +_RUSKIN AND THE PHILISTINES_ + +They reached the hotel and Caesar introduced his friend to Laura. + +"He is an admirer of yours." + +"A respectful admirer ... from a distance," explained Kennedy. + +"But are there admirers of that sort?" asked Laura, laughing. + +"Here you have one," said the Englishman. "I have known you by sight +ever since I came to Rome, and have never had the pleasure of speaking +to you until today." + +"And have you been here a long time?" + +"Nearly two years." + +"And do you like Rome; eh?" + +"I should say so! At first, I didn't, I must admit. It was a +disappointment to me. I had dreamed so much about Rome!" and Kennedy +talked of the books and guides he had read about the Eternal City. + +"I must admit that I had never dreamed about Rome," said Caesar. "And +you boast of that?" asked Laura. + +"No, I don't boast of it, I merely state it. I understand how agreeable +it is to know things. Caesar died here! Cicero made speeches here! Saint +Peter stumbled over this stone! It is fine! But not knowing things +is also very comfortable. I am rather like a barbarian walking +indifferently among monuments he knows nothing about." + +"Doesn't such an idea make you ashamed?" + +"No, why? It would be a bother to me to know a lot of things offhand. To +pass by a mountain and know how it was thrown up, what it is composed +of, what its flora and fauna are; to get to a town and know its history +in detail.... What things to be interested in! It's tiresome! I hate +history too much. I far prefer to be ignorant of everything, and +especially the past, and from time to time to offer myself a capricious, +arbitrary explanation." + +"But I think that knowing things not only is not tiresome," said +Kennedy, "but is a great satisfaction." + +"You think even learning things is a satisfaction?" + +"Thousands of years ago one could know things almost without learning +them; nowadays in order to know, one has to learn. That is natural and +logical." + +"Yes, certainly. And the effort to learn about useful things seems +natural and logical to me too, but not to learn about merely agreeable +things. To learn medicine and mechanics is logical; but to learn to look +at a picture or to hear a symphony is an absurdity." + +"Why?" + +"At any rate the neophytes that go to see a Rafael picture or to hear +a Bach sonata and have an exclamation all ready, give me the sad +impression of a flock of lambs. As for your sublime pedagogues of the +Ruskin type, they seem to me to be the fine flower of priggishness, of +pedantry, of the most objectionable bourgeoisie." + +"What things your brother is saying!" exclaimed Kennedy. + +"You shouldn't notice him," said Laura. + +"Those artistic pedagogues enrage me; they remind me of Protestant +pastors and of the friars that go around dressed like peasants, and who +I think are called Brothers of the Christian Doctrine. The pedagogues +are Brothers of the Esthetic Doctrine, one of the stupidest inventions +that ever occurred to the English. I don't know which I find more +ridiculous, the Salvation Army or Ruskin's books." + +"Why have you this hatred for Ruskin?" + +"I find him an idiot. I only skimmed through a book of his called _The +Seven Lamps of Architecture_, and the first thing I read was a paragraph +in which he said that to use an imitation diamond or any other imitation +stone was a lie, an imposition, and a sin. I immediately said: 'This man +who thinks a diamond is the truth and paste a lie, is a stupid fool who +doesn't deserve to be read.'" + +"Yes, all right: you take one point of view and he takes another. I +understand why Ruskin wouldn't please you. What I do not understand is +why you find it absurd that if a person has a desire to penetrate into +the beauties of a symphony or a picture, he should do so. What is there +strange in that?" + +"You are right," said Caesar; "whoever wants to learn, should. I have +done so about financial questions." + +"Is it true that your brother knows all about questions of money?" +Kennedy asked Laura. + +"He says so." + +"I haven't much belief in his financial knowledge." + +"No?" + +"No, I have not. You are a sort of dilettante, half nihilist, half +financier. You would like to pass for a tranquil, well-balanced man, for +what is called a philistine, but you cannot compass it." + +"I will compass it. It is true that I want to be a philistine, but a +philistine out in the real world. All those great artists you people +admire, Goethe, Ruskin, were really philistines, who were in the +business of being interested in poetry and statues and pictures." + +"Moncada, you are a sophist," said Kennedy. "Possibly I am wrong in this +discussion," retorted Caesar, "but the feeling I have is right. Artists +irritate me; they seem to me like old ladies with a flatulency that +prevents their breathing freely." + +Kennedy laughed at the definition. + + + +_CHIC AND THE REVOLUTION_ + +"I understand hating bad kings and conquerors; but artists! What harm do +they do?" said Laura. + +"Artists are always doing harm to the whole of humanity. They have +invented an esthetic system for the use of the rich, and they have +killed the Revolution. The _chic_ put an end to the Revolution. And +now everything is coming back; enthusiasm for the aristocracy, for the +Church; the cult of kings. People look backward and the Revolutionary +movement is paralysed. The people that irritate me most are those +esthetes of the Ruskin school, for whom everything is religious: having +money, buying jewels, blowing one's nose ... everything is religious. +Vulgar creatures, lackeys that they are!" + +"My brother is a demagogue," said Laura ironically. + +"Yes," added Kennedy; "he doesn't like categories." + +"But each thing has its value whether he likes it or not." + +"I do not deny different values, or even categories. There are things of +great value in life; some natural, like youth, beauty, strength; +others more artificial, like money, social position; but this idea of +distinction, of aristocratic fineness, is a farce. It is a literary +legend in the same style as the one current in novels, which tells +us that the aristocrats of old families close their doors to rich +Americans, or like that other story Mrs. Marchmont was talking to us of, +about the Jewish ladies who were crazy to become Catholics." + +"I don't see what you are trying to prove by all this," said Laura. + +"I am trying to prove that all there is underneath distinguished society +is money, for which reason it doesn't matter if it is destroyed. The +cleverest and finest man, if he has no money, will die of hunger in a +corner. Smart society, which thinks itself superior, will never receive +him, because being really superior and intelligent is of no value on +the market. On the other hand, when it is a question of some very rich +brute, he will succeed in being accepted and feted by the aristocrats, +because money has a real value, a quotable value, or I'd better say, it +is the only thing that has a quotable value." + +"What you are saying isn't true. A man doesn't go with the best people +merely because he is rich." + +"No, certainly; not immediately. There is a preparatory process. He +begins by robbing people in some miserable little shop, and feels +himself democratic. Then he robs in a bank, and at that period he feels +that he is a Liberal and begins to experience vaguely aristocratic +ideas. If business goes splendidly, the aristocratic ideas get +crystallized. Then he can come to Rome and go into ecstasies over +all the humbugs of Catholicism; and after that, one is authorized to +acknowledge that the religion of our fathers is a beautiful religion, +and one finishes by giving a tip to the Pope, and another to Cardinal +Verry, so that they will make him Prince of the Ecumenical Council or +Marquis of the Holy Crusade." + +"What very stupid and false ideas," exclaimed Laura. "Really I +appreciate having a brother who talks in such a vulgar way." + +"You are an aristocrat and the truth doesn't please you. But such are +the facts. I can see the chief of the bureau of Papal titles. What fun +he must have thinking up the most appropriate title for a magnate of +Yankee tinned beef or for an illustrious Andean general! How magnificent +it would be to gather all the Bishops _in partibus infidelium_ and all +the people with Papal titles in one drawing-room! The Bishop of Nicaea +discussing with the Marquis of the Holy Roman Empire; the Marchioness of +Easter Sunday flirting with the Bishop of Sion, while the Patriarchs +of Thebes, Damascus, and Trebizond played bridge with the sausage +manufacturer, Mr. Smiles, the pork king, or with the illustrious General +Perez, the hero of Guachinanguito. What a moving spectacle it would be!" + +"You are a clown!" said Laura. + +"He is a finished satirist," added Kennedy. + + + +_CAESAR'S PLAN_ + +After lunch, Laura, Kennedy, and Caesar went into the salon, and Laura +introduced the Englishman to the San Martino girls and the Countess +Brenda. They stayed there chatting until four o'clock, at which time the +San Martinos got ready to go out in a motor car, and Laura, with the +Countess and her daughter, in a carriage. + +Caesar and Kennedy went into the street together. + +"You are awfully well fixed here," said Kennedy, "with no Americans, no +Germans, or any other barbarians." + +"Yes, this hotel is a hive of petty aristocrats." + +"Your sister was telling me that you might pick out a very rich wife +here, among the girls." + +"Yes, my sister would like me to live here, in a foreign country, in +cowlike tranquillity, looking at pictures and statues, and travelling +pointlessly. That wouldn't be living for me; I am not a society man. I +require excitement, danger.... Though I warn you that I am not in the +least courageous." + +"You're not?" + +"Not at all. Not now. At moments I believe I could control myself and +take a trench without wavering." + +"But you have some fixed plan, haven't you?" + +"Yes, I expect to go back to Spain, and work there." + +"At what?" + +"In politics." + +"Are you patriotic?" + +"Yes, up to a certain point. I have no transcendental idea of patriotism +at all. Patriotism, as I interpret it, is a matter of curiosity. I +believe that there is strength in Spain. If this strength could be +led in a given direction, where would it get to? That is my form of +patriotism; as I say, it is an experimental form." + +Kennedy looked at Caesar with curiosity. + +"And how can it help you with your plans to stay here in Rome?" he +asked. + +"It can help me. In Spain nobody knows me. This is the only place where +I have a certain position, through being the nephew of a Cardinal. I am +trying to build on that. How am I going to arrange it? I don't know. I +am feeling out my future course, taking soundings." + +"But the support you could find here would be all of a clerical nature," +said Kennedy. + +"Of course." + +"But you are not Clerical!" + +"No; but it is necessary for me to climb. Afterwards there will be time +to change." + +"You are not taking it into account, my dear Caesar, that the Church is +still powerful and that it doesn't pardon people who impose upon it." + +"Bah! I am not afraid of it." + +"And you were just saying you are not courageous! You are courageous, my +dear man.... After this, I don't doubt of your success." + +"I need data." + +"If I can furnish you with any...." + +"Wouldn't it be disagreeable for you to help a man who is your enemy, so +far as ideas go?" + +"No; because I am beginning to have some curiosity too, as to whether +you will succeed in doing something. If I can be of any use, let me +know." + +"I will let you know." + +Caesar and Kennedy took a walk about the streets, and at twilight they +took leave of each other affectionately. + + + + +XIV + +NEW ATTEMPTS, NEW RAMBLES + +_CARDINAL SPADA_ + + +"I have arranged two interesting conferences for you," said Kennedy, a +few days later. + +"My dear man!" + +"Yes; one with Cardinal Spada, the other with the Abbe Tardieu. I have +spoken to them both about you." + +"Splendid! What kind of people are they?" + +"Cardinal Spada is a very intelligent man and a very amiable one. At +heart he is a Liberal and fond of the French. As to the Abbe Tardieu, he +is a very influential priest at the church of San Luigi." + +After lunch they went direct to a solitary street in the old part of +Rome. At the door of the big, sad palace where Cardinal Spada lived, a +porter with a cocked hat, a grey greatcoat, and a staff with a silver +knob, was watching the few passers-by. + +They went in by the broad entry-way, as far as a dark colonnaded court, +paved with big flags which had grass between them. + +In the middle of the court a fountain shot up a little way and fell into +a stone basin covered with moss. + +Kennedy and Caesar mounted the wide monumental stairway; on the first +floor a handsome glassed-in gallery ran around the court. The whole +house had an air of solemnity and sadness. They entered the Cardinal's +office, which was a large, sad, severe room. + +Monsignor Spada was a vigorous man, despite his age. He looked frank +and intelligent, but one guessed that there was a hidden bitterness and +desolation in him. He wore a black cassock with red edges and buttons. + +Kennedy went close and was about to kneel to the Cardinal, but he +prevented him. + +Caesar explained his ideas to the Cardinal with modesty. He felt that +this man was worthy of all his respect. + +Monsignor Spada listened attentively, and then said that he understood +nothing about financial matters, but that on principle he was in favour +of having the administration of all the Church's property kept entirely +at home, as in the time of Pius IX. Leo XIII had preferred to replace +this paternal method by a trained bureaucracy, but the Church had not +gained anything by it, and they had lost credit through unfortunate +negotiations, buying land and taking mortgages. + +Caesar realized that it was useless to attempt to convince a man of +the intelligence and austerity of the Cardinal, and he listened to him +respectfully. + +Monsignor Spada conversed amiably, he escorted them as far as the door, +and shook hands when they said good-bye. + + + +THE ABBE TARDIEU + +Then they went to see the Abbe Tardieu. The abbe lived in the Piazza. +Navona. His office, furnished in modern style, produced the effect of a +violent contrast with Cardinal Spada's sumptuous study, and yet brought +it to mind. The Abbe Tardieu's work-room was small, worldly, full of +books and photographs. + +The abbe, a tall young man, thin, with a rosy face, a long nose, and a +mouth almost from ear to ear, had the air of an astute but jolly person, +and laughed at everything said to him. He was liveliness personified. +When they entered his office he was writing and smoking. + +Caesar explained about his financial knowledge, and how he had gone on +acquiring it, until he got to the point where he could discern a law, a +system, in things where others saw nothing more than chance. The Abbe +Tardieu promised that if he knew a way to utilize Caesar's knowledge, he +would send him word. In respect to giving him letters of introduction to +influential persons in Spain, he had no objection. + +They took leave of the abbe. + +"All this has to go slowly," said Kennedy. + +"Of course. One cannot insist that it should happen all at once." + + + +_BERNINI_ + +"If you have nothing to do, let's take a walk," said the Englishman. + +"If you like." + +"Have you noticed the fountains in this square?" + +"No." + +"They are worth looking at." + +Caesar contemplated the central obelisk. It is set on top of a rock +hollowed out like a cavern, in the mouth of which a lion is seen. +Afterwards they looked at the fountains at the ends of the square. + +"The sculptures are by Bernini," explained Kennedy. "Bernini belonged to +an epoch that has been very much abused by the critics, but nowadays he +is much praised. He enchants me." + +"It is rather a mixed style, don't you think?" + +"Yes." + +"The artist is not living?" + +"For heaven's sake, man! No." + +"Well, if he were alive today they would employ him to make those +gewgaws some people present to leading ladies and to the deputies of +their district. He would be the king of the manufacturers of ornate +barometers." + +"It is undeniable that Bernini had a baroque taste." + +"He gives the impression of a rather pretentious and affected person." + +"Yes, he does. He was an exuberant, luxuriant Neapolitan; but when he +chose he could produce marvels. Haven't you seen his Saint Teresa?" + +"No." + +"Then you must see it. Let's take a carriage." + +They drove to the Piazza San Bernardo, a little square containing three +churches and a fountain, and went into Santa Maria della Vittoria. + +Kennedy went straight toward the high altar, and stopped to the left of +it. + +In an altar of the transept is to be seen a group carved in marble, +representing the ecstasy of Saint Teresa. Caesar gazed at it absorbed. +The saint is an attractive young girl, falling backward in a sensual +spasm; her eyes are closed, her mouth open, and her jaw a bit +dislocated. In front of the swooning saint is a little angel who +smilingly threatens her with an arrow. + +"Well, what do you think of it?" said Kennedy. + +"It is wonderful," exclaimed Caesar. "But it is a bedroom scene, only +the lover has slipped away." + +"Yes, that is true." + +"It really is pretty; you seem to see the pallor of the saint's face, +the circles under her eyes, the relaxation of all her muscles. Then the +angel is a little joker who stands there smiling at the ecstasy of the +saint." + +"Yes, that's true," said Kennedy; "it is all the more admirable for the +very reason that it is tender, sensual, and charming, all at once." + +"However, this sort of thing is not healthy," murmured Caesar, "this +kind of vision depletes your life-force. One wants to find the same +things represented in works of art that one ought to look for in life, +even if they are not to be found in life." + +"Good! Here enters the moralist. You talk like an Englishman," exclaimed +Kennedy. "Let us go along." + +"Where?" + +"I have to stop in at the French Embassy a moment; then we can go where +you like." + + + +_CORNERS OF ROME_ + +They went back to the carriage, and having crossed through the centre of +Rome, got out in front of the Farnese Palace. + +"I will be out inside of ten minutes," said Kennedy. + +The Farnese Palace aroused great admiration in Caesar; he had never +passed it before. By one of the fountains in the _piazza,_ he stood +gazing at the huge square edifice, which seemed to him like a die cut +from an immense block of stone. + +"This really gives me an impression of grandeur and force," he said to +himself. "What a splendid palace! It looks like an ancient knight in +full armour, looking indifferently at everything, sure of his own +worth." + +Caesar walked from one end of the _piazza_ to the other, absorbed in the +majestic pile of stone. + +Kennedy surprised him in his contemplation. + +"Now will you say that you are a good philistine?" + +"Ah, well, this palace is magnificent. Here are grandeur, strength, +overwhelming force." + +"Yes, it is magnificent; but very uncomfortable, my French colleagues +tell me." + +Kennedy related the history of the Farnese Palace to Caesar. They went +through the Via del Mascherone and came out into the Via Giulia. + +"This Via Giulia is a street in a provincial capital," said Kennedy; +"always sad and deserted; a Cardinal or two who like isolation are still +living here." + +At the entrance to the Via dei Farnesi, Caesar stopped to look at two +marble tablets set into the wall at the two sides of a chapel door. + +Cut on the tablets were skeletons painted black; on one, the words: +"Alms for the poor dead bodies found in the fields," and on the other: +"Alms for the perpetual lamp in the cemetery." + +"What does this mean?" said Caesar. + +"That is the Church of the Orison of the Confraternity of Death. The +tablets are modern." + +They passed by the "Mascherone" again, and went rambling on until they +reached the Synagogue and the Theatre of Marcellus. + +They went through narrow streets without sidewalks; they passed across +tiny squares; and it seemed like a dead city, or like the outskirts of a +village. In certain streets towered high dark palaces of blackish stone. +These mysterious palaces looked uninhabited; the gratings were eaten +with rust, all sorts of weeds grew on the roofs, and the balconies were +covered with climbing plants. At corners, set into the wall, one saw +niches with glass fronts. A painted madonna, black now, with silver +jewels and a crown, could be guessed at inside, and in front a little +lantern swung on a cord. + +Suddenly a cart would come down one of these narrow streets without +sidewalks, driving very quickly and scattering the women and children +seated by the gutter. + +In all these poor quarters there were lanes crossed by ropes loaded with +torn washing; there were wretched black shops from which an odour of +grease exhaled; there were narrow streets with mounds of garbage in the +middle. In the very palaces, now shorn of their grandeur, appeared +the same decoration of rags waving in the breeze. In the Theatre of +Marcellus one's gaze got lost in the depths of black caves, where smiths +stood out against flames. + +This mixture of sumptuousness and squalor, of beauty and ugliness, was +reflected in the people; young and most beautiful women were side by +side with fat, filthy old ones covered with rags, their eyes gloomy, and +of a type that recalled old African Jewesses. + + + +_WHAT CAN BE READ ON WALLS_ + +Caesar and Kennedy went on toward the Temple of Vesta and followed the +river bank until the Tiber Embankment ended. + +Here the banks were green and the river clearer and more poetic. To the +left rose the Aventine with its villas; in the harbour two or three tugs +were tied up; and here and there along the pier stood a crane. Evening +was falling and the sky was filling with pink clouds. + +They sat down awhile on the side of the road, and Caesar entertained +himself deciphering the inscriptions written in charcoal on a mud-wall. + +"Do you go in for modern epigraphy?" asked Kennedy. + +"Yes. It is one of the things I take pleasure in reading, in the towns +I go to; the advertisements in the newspapers and the writings on the +wall." + +"It's a good kind of curiosity." + +"Yes, I believe one learns more about the real life in a town from such +inscriptions than from the guide- and text-books." + +"That's possible. And what conclusions have you drawn from your +observations?" + +"They are not of much value. I haven't constructed a science of +wall-inscriptions, as that fake Lambroso would have done." + +"But you will construct it surely, when you have lighted on the +underlying system." + +"You think my epigraphical science is on the same level as my financial +science. What a mistake!" + +"All right. But tell me what you have discovered about different towns." + +"London, for instance, I have found, is childish in its inscriptions and +somewhat clownish. When some sentimental foolishness doesn't occur to a +Londoner of the people, some brutality or rough joke occurs to him." + +"You are very kind," said Kennedy, laughing. + +"Paris has a vulgar, cruel taste; in the Frenchman of the people you +find the tiger alternating with the monkey. There the dominant note on +the walls is the patriotic note, insults to politicians, calling them +assassins and thieves, and also sentiments of revenge expressed by +an _'A mort Dupin!'_ or _'A mort Duval!'_ Moreover, there is a great +enthusiasm for the guillotine." + +"And Madrid?" + +"Madrid is at heart a rude, moral town with little imagination, and +the epigraphs on the walls and benches are primitive." + +"And in Rome what do you find?" + +"Here one finds a mixture of pornography, romanticism, and politics. +A heart pierced by an arrow and poetic phrases, alternate with some +enormous piece of filthiness and with hurrahs for Anarchy or for the +_'Papa-re.'_" + +"Well done!" said Kennedy; "I can see that the branch of epigraphy you +practise amounts to something. It should be systematized and given a +name." + +"What do you think we should name it? Wallography?" + +"Very good." + +"And one of these fine days we can systematize it. Now we might go and +get dinner." + +They took a tram which was coming back from St. Paul's beyond the Walls, +and returned to the heart of the city. + + + +_THE MONK WITH THE RED NOSE_ + +The next day Caesar was finishing dressing when the servant told him +that a gentleman was waiting for him. + +"Who is it?" asked Caesar. + +"It's a monk." + +Caesar went to the salon and there found a tall monk with an evil face, +a red nose, and a worn habit. + +Caesar recalled having seen him, but didn't know where. + +"What can I do for you?" asked Caesar. + +"I come from His Eminence, Cardinal Fort. I must speak with you." + +"Let's go into the dining-room. We shall be alone there." + +"It would be better to talk in your room." + +"No, there is no one here. Besides, I have to eat breakfast. Will you +join me?" + +"No, thanks," said the monk. + +Caesar remembered having seen that face in the Altemps palace. He was +doubtless one of the domestic monks who had been with the Abbe Preciozi. + +The waiter came bringing Caesar's breakfast. "Will you tell me what it +is?" said Caesar to the ecclesiastic, while he filled his cup. + +The monk waited until the waiter was gone, and then said in a hard +voice: + +"His Eminence the Cardinal sent me to bid you not to present yourself +anywhere again, giving his name." + +"What? What does this mean?" asked Caesar, calmly. + +"It means that His Eminence has found out about your intrigues and +machinations." + +"Intrigues? What intrigues were those?" + +"You know perfectly well. And His Eminence forbids you to continue in +that direction." + +"His Eminence forbids me to pay calls? And for what reason?" + +"Because you have used his name to introduce yourself into certain +places." + +"It is not true." + +"You have told people you went to that you are Cardinal Fort's nephew." + +"And I am not?" asked Caesar, after taking a swallow of coffee. + +"You are trying to make use of the relationship, we don't know with what +end in view." + +"I am trying to make use of my relationship to Cardinal Fort? Why +shouldn't I?" + +"You admit it?" + +"Yes, I admit it. People are such imbeciles that they think it is an +honour to have a Cardinal in the family; I take advantage of this stupid +idea, although I do not share it, because for me a Cardinal is merely an +object of curiosity, an object for an archeological museum...." + +Caesar paused, because the monk's countenance was growing dark. In the +twilight of his pallid face, his nose looked like a comet portending +some public calamity. + +"Poor wretch!" murmured the monk. "You do not know what you are saying. +You are blaspheming. You are offending God." "Do you really believe that +God has any relation to my uncle?" asked Caesar, paying more attention +to his toast than to his visitor. + +And then he added: + +"The truth is that it would be extravagant behaviour on the part of +God." + +The monk looked at Caesar with terrible eyes. Those grey eyes of his, +under their long, black, thick brows, shot lightning. + +"Poor wretch!" repeated the monk. "You ought to have more respect for +things above you." + +Caesar arose. + +"You are bothering me and preventing me from drinking my coffee," he +said, with exquisite politeness, and touched the bell. + +"Be careful!" exclaimed the monk, seizing Caesar's arm with violence. + +"Don't you touch me again," said Caesar, pulling away violently, his +face pale and his eyes flashing. "If you do, I have a revolver here with +five chambers, and I shall take pleasure in emptying them one by one, +taking that lighthouse you carry about for a nose, as my target." + +"Fire it if you dare." + +Fortunately the waiter had come in on hearing the bell. + +"Do you wish anything, sir?" he asked. + +"Yes, please escort this clerical gentleman to the door, and tell him on +the way not to come back here." + +Days later Caesar found out that there had been a great disturbance at +the Altemps palace in consequence of the calls he had made. Preciozi +had been punished and sent away from Rome, and the various Spanish +monasteries and colleges warned not to receive Caesar. + + + + +XV + +GIOVANNI BATTISTA, PAGAN + + +"My dear Caesar," said Kennedy, "I believe it will be very difficult for +you to find what you want by looking for it. You ought to leave it a +little to chance." + +"Abandon myself to events as they arrive? All right, it seems a good +idea." + +"Then if you find something practicable, utilize it." + +Kennedy took his friend to a statue-shop where he used to pass some of +his hours. The shop was in a lane near the Forum, and its stock was in +antiques, majolicas, and plaster casts of pagan gods. + +The shop was dark and rather gloomy, with a small court at the back +covered with vines. The proprietor was an old man, with a moustache, +an imperial, and a shock of white hair. His name was Giovanni Battista +Lanza. He professed revolutionary ideas and had great enthusiasm about +Mazzini. He expressed himself in an ironical and malicious manner. + +Signora Vittoria, his wife, was a grumbling old woman, rather devoted to +wine. She spoke like a Roman of the lowest class, was olive-coloured and +wrinkled, and of her former beauty there remained only her very black +eyes and hair that was still black. + +The daughter, Simonetta, a girl who resembled her father, blond, with +the build of a goddess, was the one that waited on customers and kept +the accounts. + +Simonetta, being the manager, divided up the profits; the elder son was +head of the workshop and he made the most money; then came two workmen +from outside; and then the father who still got his day's wages, out +of consideration for his age; and finally the younger son, twelve or +fourteen years old, who was an apprentice. + +Simonetta gave her mother what was indispensable for household expenses +and managed the rest herself. + +Kennedy retailed this information the first day they went to Giovanni +Battista Lanza's house. Caesar could see Simonetta keeping the books, +while the small brother, in a white blouse that came to his heels, was +chasing a dog, holding a pipe in his hand by the thick part, as if it +were a pistol, the dog barking and hanging on to the blouse, the small +boy shrieking and laughing, when Signora Vittoria came bawling out. + +Kennedy presented Simonetta to his friend Caesar, and she smiled and +gave her hand. + +"Is Signore Giovanni Battista here?" Kennedy asked Signora Vittoria. + +"Yes, he is in the court." she answered in her gloomy way. + +"Is something wrong with your mamma?" said Kennedy to Simonetta. + +"Nothing." + +They went into the court and Giovanni Battista arose, very dignified, +and bowed to Caesar. The elder son and the two workmen in white blouses +and paper caps were busy with water and wires, cleaning a plaster mould +they had just emptied. + +The mould was a big has-relief of the Way of the Cross. Giovanni +Battista permitted himself various jocose remarks about the Way of +the Cross, which his son and the other two workmen heard with +great indifference; but while he was still emptying his store of +anti-Christian irony, the voice of Signora Vittoria was heard, crying +domineeringly: + +"Giovanni Battista!" + +"What is it?" + +"That's enough, that's enough! I can hear you from here." + +"That's my wife," said Giovanni Battista, "she doesn't like me to be +lacking in respect for plaster saints." "You are a pagan!" screamed the +old woman. "You shall see, you shall see what will happen to you." + +"What do you expect to have happen to me, darling?" + +"Leave her alone," exclaimed the elder son, ill at ease; "you always +have to be making mother fly into a rage." + +"No, my boy, no; she is the one who makes me fly into a rage." + +"Giovanni Battista is used to living among gods," said Kennedy, "and he +despises saints." + +"No, no," replied the cast-maker; "some saints are all right. If all +the churches had figures by Donatello or Robbia, I would go to church +oftener; but to go and look at those statues in the Jesuit churches, +those figures with their arms spread and their eyes rolling.... Oh, no! +I cannot look at such things." + +Caesar could see that Giovanni Battista expressed himself very well; +but that he was not precisely a star when it came to working. After the +mould for the bas-relief was cleaned and fixed, the cast-maker invited +Caesar and Kennedy to have a glass of wine in a wine-shop near by. + +"How's this, are you leaving already, father?" said Simonetta, as he +went through the shop to get to the street. + +"I'm coming back, I'm coming back right away." + + + +_SUPERSTITIONS_ + +The three of them went to a rather dirty tavern in the same lane, +and settled themselves by the window. This post was a good point of +observation for that narrow street, so crowded and so picturesque. + +Workmen went by, and itinerant vendors, women with kerchiefs, half +head-dress and half muffler, and with black eyes and expressive faces. +Opposite was a booth of coloured candies, dried figs strung on a reed, +and various kinds of sweets. + +A wine-cart passed, and Kennedy made Caesar observe how decorative it +was with its big arm-seat in the middle and its hood above, like a +prompter's box. + +Giovanni Battista ordered a flask of wine for the three of them. While +he chatted and drank, friends of his came to greet them. They were men +with beards, long hair, and soft hats, of the Garbaldi and Verdi type so +abundant in Italy. + +Among them were two serious old men; one was a model, a native of +Frascati, with the face of a venerable apostle; the other, for contrast, +looked like a buffoon and was the possessor of a grotesque nose, long, +thin at the end and adorned with a red wart. + +"My wife has a deadly hatred for all of them," said Giovanni Battista, +laughing. + +"And why so?" asked Caesar. + +"Because we talk politics and sometimes they ask me for a few +pennies...." + +"Your wife must have a lively temper,..." said Caesar. + +"Yes, an unhappy disposition; good, awfully good; but very +superstitious. Christianity has produced nothing but superstitions." + +"Giovanni Battista is a pagan, as his wife well says," asserted Kennedy. + +"What superstitions has your wife?" asked Caesar. + +"All of them. Romans are very superstitious and my wife is a Roman. If +you see a hunchback, it is good luck; if you see three, then your luck +is magnificent and you have to swallow your saliva three times; on the +other hand, if you see a humpbacked woman it is a bad omen and you must +spit on the ground to keep away the _jettatura_. Three priests together +is a very good sign. We ought all to get along very well in Rome, +because we see three and up to thirty priests together." + +"A spider is also very significant," said Kennedy; "in the morning it is +of bad augury, and in the evening good." + +"And at noon?" asked Caesar. + +"At noon," answered Lanza, laughing, "it means nothing to speak of. But +if you wish to make sure whether it is a good auspice or a bad, you kill +the spider and count its legs. If they are an even number, it is a good +omen; if uneven, bad." + +"But I believe spiders always have an even number of legs," said Caesar. + +"Certainly," responded the old man; "but my wife swears they do not; +that she has seen many with seven and nine legs. It is religious +unreasonableness." + +"Are there many people like that, so credulous?" asked Caesar. + +"Oh, lots," replied Lanza; "in the shops you will find amulets, horns, +hands made of coral or horseshoes, all to keep away bad luck. My wife +and the neighbour women play the lottery, by combining the numbers of +their birthdays, and the ages of their fathers, their mothers, and their +children. When some relative dies, they make a magic combination of +the dates of birth and death, the day and the month, and buy a lottery +ticket. They never win; and instead of realizing that their systems +are of no avail, they say that they omitted to count in the number of +letters in the name or something of that sort. It is comical, so much +religion and so much superstition." + +"But you confuse religion and superstition, my friend," said Kennedy. + +"It's all the same," answered the old man, smiling his suavely ironical +smile. "There is nothing except Nature." + +"You do not believe in miracles, Giovanni Battista?" asked the +Englishman. + +"Yes, I believe in the earth's miracles, making trees and flowers grow, +and the miracle of children's being born from their mothers. The other +miracles I do not believe in. What for? They are so insignificant beside +the works of Nature!" + +"He is a pagan," Kennedy again stated. + + + +_YOUNG PAINTERS_ + +They were chatting, when three young lads came into the tavern, all +three having the air of artists, black clothes, soft hats, flowing +cravats, long hair, and pipes. "Two of them are fellow-countrymen of +yours," Kennedy told Caesar. + +"They are Spanish painters," the old man added. "The other is a sculptor +who has been in the Argentine, and he talks Spanish too." + +The three entered and sat down at the same table and were introduced to +Caesar. Everybody chattered. Buonacossi, the Italian, was a real type. +Of very low stature, he had a giant's torso and strong little legs. His +head was like a woe-begone eagle, his nose hooked, thin, and reddish, +eyes round, and hair black. + +Buonacossi proved to be gay, exuberant, changeable, and full of +vehemence. + +He explained his artistic ideas with picturesque warmth, mingling them +with blasphemies and curses. Things struck him as the best or the worst +in the world. For him there doubtless were no middle terms. + +One of the two Spaniards was serious, grave, jaundiced, sour-visaged, +and named Cortes; the other, large, ordinary, fleshy, and coarse, seemed +rather a bully. + +Giovanni Battista was not able to be long outside the workshop, no doubt +because his conscience troubled him, and though with difficulty, he got +up and left. Kennedy, Caesar, and the two Spaniards went toward the +Piazza, del Campidoglio, and Buonacossi marched off in the opposite +direction. + +On reaching the Via Nazionale, Kennedy took his leave and Caesar +remained with the two Spaniards. The red, fleshy one, who had the air of +a bully, started in to make fun of the Italians, and to mimic their bows +and salutes; then he said that he had an engagement with a woman and +made haste to take his leave. + +When he had gone, the grave Spaniard with the sour face, said to Caesar: + +"That chap is like the dandies here; that's why he imitates them so +well." + +Afterwards Cortes talked about his studies in painting; he didn't get +on well, he had no money, and anyway Rome didn't please him at all. +Everything seemed wrong to him, absurd, ridiculous. + +Caesar, after he had said good-bye to him, murmured: "The truth is that +we Spaniards are impossible people." + + + + +XVI + +THE PORTRAIT OF A POPE + + +Two or three days later Caesar met the Spaniard Cortes in the Piazza +Colonna. They bowed. The thin, sour-looking painter was walking with a +beardless young German, red and snub-nosed. This young man was a painter +too, Cortes said; he wore a green hat with a cock's feather, a blue +cape, thick eyeglasses, big boots, and had a certain air of being a +blond Chinaman. + +"Would you like to come to the Doria gallery with us?" asked Cortes. + +"What is there to see there?" + +"A stupendous portrait by Velazquez." + +"I warn you that I know nothing about pictures." + +"Nobody does," Cortes declared roundly. "Everybody says what he thinks." + +"Is the gallery near here?" + +"Yes, just a step." + +In company with Cortes and the German with the green hat with the cock's +feather, Caesar went to the Piazza del Collegio Romano, where the Doria +palace is. They saw a lot of pictures which didn't seem any better to +Caesar than those in the antique shops and the pawnbrokers', but which +drew learned commentaries from the German. Then Cortes took them to a +cabinet hung in green and lighted by a skylight. There was nothing to +be seen in the cabinet except the portrait of the Pope. In order that +people might look at it comfortably, a sofa had been installed facing +it. + +"Is this the Velazquez portrait?" asked Caesar. + +"This is it." + +Caesar looked at it carefully. "That man had eaten and drunk well before +his portrait was painted," said Caesar; "his face is congested." + +"It is extraordinary!" exclaimed Cortes. "It is something to see, the +way this is done. What boldness! Everything is red, the cape, the cap, +the curtains in the background.... What a man!" + +The German aired his opinions in his own language, and took out a +notebook and pencil and wrote some notes. + +"What sort of man was this?" asked Caesar, whom the technical side of +painting did not preoccupy, as it did Cortes. + +"They say he was a dull man, who lived under a woman's domination." + +"The great thing is," murmured Caesar, "how the painter has left him +here alive. It seems as if we had come in here to salute him, and he +was waiting for us to speak. Those clear eyes are questioning us. It is +curious." + +"Not curious," exclaimed Cortes, "but admirable." + +"For me it is more curious than admirable. There is something brutal in +this Pope; through his grey beard, which is so thin, you can see his +projecting chin. The good gentleman was of a marked prognathism, a type +of degeneration, indifference, intellectual torpor, and nevertheless, he +reached the top. Perhaps in the Church it's the same as in water, only +corks float." + + + + +_LEGEND AND HISTORY_ + + +Caesar went out of the cabinet, leaving the German and Cortes seated on +the sofa, absorbed in the picture; he looked at various paintings in the +gallery, went back, and sat down, beside the artists. + +"This portrait," he said presently, "is like history by the side of +legend. All the other paintings in the gallery are legend, 'folk-lore,' +as I believe one calls it. This one is history." + +"That's what it is. It is truth," agreed Cortes. + +"Yes, but there are people who do not like the truth, my friend. I tell +you: this is a man of flesh, somewhat enigmatic, like nature herself, +and with arteries in which blood flows; this is a man who breathes and +digests, and not merely a pleasant abstraction; you, who understand such +things, will tell me that the drawing is perfect, and the colour such +as it was in reality; but how about the person who doesn't ask for +reality?" + +"Stendhal, the writer, was affected that way by this picture," said +Cortes; "he was shocked at its being hung among masterpieces." + +"He found it bad, no doubt." + +"Very bad?" + +"Was this Stendhal English?" + +"No, French." + +"Ah, then, you needn't be surprised. A Frenchman has no obligation to +understand anything that's not French." + +"Nevertheless he was an intelligent man." + +"Did he perhaps have a good deal of veneration?" + +"No, he boasted of not having any." + +"Doubtless he did have without suspecting it. With a man who had no +veneration, what difference would it make whether there was one bad +thing among a lot of good ones?" + +The German with the green hat, who understood something of the +conversation, was indignant at Caesar's irreverent ideas. He asked him +if he understood Latin, and Caesar told him no, and then, in a strange +gibberish, half Latin and half Italian, he let loose a series of facts, +dates, and numbers. Then he asserted that all artistic things of great +merit were German: Greece. Rome, Gothic architecture, the Italian +Renaissance, Leonardo da Vinci, Velazquez, all German. + +The snub-nosed young person, with his cape and his green hat with its +cock-feather, did not let a mouse escape from his German mouse-trap. + +The data of the befeathered German were too much for Caesar, and he took +his leave of the painters. + + + + +XVII + +EVIL DAYS + + +Accompanied by Kennedy, Caesar called repeatedly on the most auspicious +members of the French clerical element living in Rome, and found persons +more cultivated than among the rough Spanish monks; but, as was natural, +nobody gave him any useful information offering the possibility of his +putting his financial talents to the proof. + +"Something must turn up," he used to say to himself, "and at the least +opening we will dive into the work." + +Caesar kept gathering notes about people who had connections in Spain +with the Black party in Rome; he called several times on Father +Herreros, despite his uncle's prohibition, and succeeded in getting the +monk to write to the Marquesa de Montsagro, asking if there were no +means of making Caesar Moneada, Cardinal Fort's nephew, Conservative +Deputy for her district. + +The Marquesa wrote back that it was impossible; the Conservative Deputy +for the district was very popular and a man with large properties there. + +When Holy Week was over, Laura and the Countess Brenda and her daughter +decided to spend a while at Florence, and invited Caesar to accompany +them; but he was quite out of harmony with the Brenda lady, and said +that he had to stay on in Rome. + +A few days later Mme. Dawson and her daughters left, and the San +Martinos and the Marchesa Sciacca; and an avalanche of English people +and Germans, armed with their red Baedekers, took the hotel by storm. +Susanna Marchmont had gone to spend some days at Corfu. + +In less than a week Caesar remained alone, knowing nobody in the hotel, +and despite his believing that he was going to be perfectly indifferent +about this, he felt deserted and sad. The influence of the springtime +also affected him. The deep blue sky, cloudless, dense, dark, made him +languish. Instead of entertaining himself with something or other, he +did scarcely anything all day long but walk. + + + +_TWO ABSURD MEN_ + + +"I have continually near me in the hotel," wrote Caesar to Alzugaray, +"two absurd fellows: one is one of those stout red Germans with a square +head; the other a fine slim Norwegian. The German, who is a captain in +some service or other, is a restless man, always busy about what the +devil I don't know. He is constantly carrying about trunks and boxes, +with the aid of a sorrowful valet, dressed in black, who appears to +detest his position. The captain must devote the morning to doing +gymnastics, for I hear him from my room, which is next to his, jumping +and dropping weights on the floor, each of which must weigh half a ton, +to judge by the noise they make. + +"He does all this to vocal commands, and when some feat doesn't go right +he reprimands himself. + +"This German isn't still a moment; he opens the salon door, crosses the +room, stands at the window, takes up a paper, puts it down. He is a type +that makes me nervous. + +"The Norwegian at first appeared to be a reasonable man, somewhat +sullen. He looked frowningly at me, and I watched him equally +frowningly, and took him for a thinker, an Ibsenite whose imagination +was lost among the ice of his own country. Now and then I would see +him walking up and down the corridor, rubbing his hands together so +continuously and so frantically that they made a noise like bones. + +"Suddenly, this gentleman is transformed as if by magic; he begins to +joke with the servants, he seizes a chair and dances with it, and the +other day I saw him alone in the salon marching around with a paper hat +on his head, like children playing soldiers, and blowing on a cornet, +also made of paper." I stared at him in amazement, he smiled like a +child, and asked if he was disturbing me. + +"'No, no, not in the least,' I told him. + +"I have asked in the hotel if this man is crazy, and they have told me +that he is not, but is a professor, a man of science, who is known to +have these strange fits of gaiety. + +"Another of the Norwegian's doings has been to compose a serenade, with +a vulgar melody that would disgust you, and which he has dedicated '_A +la bella Italia_.' He wrote the Italian words himself, but as he knows +no music, he had a pianist come here and write out his serenade. What +he especially wants is that it should be full of sentiment; and so the +pianist arranged it with directions and many pauses, which satisfied +the Norwegian. Almost every night the serenade '_A la bella Italia_' +is sung. Somebody who wants to amuse himself goes to the piano, the +Norwegian strikes a languid attitude and chants his serenade. Sometimes +he goes in front of the piano, sometimes behind, but invariably he hears +the storm of applause when it ends, and he bows with great gusto. + +"I don't know whether it's the other people who are laughing at him, or +he who is laughing at the others. + +"The other day he said to me in his macaronic Italian: + +"'Mr. Spaniard, I have good eyesight, good hearing, a good sense of +smell, and ... lots of sentiment.' + +"I didn't exactly understand what he meant me to think, and I didn't pay +any attention to him. + +"It seems that the Norwegian is going away soon, and as the day of his +departure approaches, he grows funereal." + + +_THE SADNESS OF LIFE_ + +"I don't know why I don't go away," Caesar wrote to his friend another +time. "When I go out in the evening and see the ochre-coloured houses on +both sides and the blue sky above, a horrible sadness takes me. These +spring days oppress me, make me want to weep; it seems to me it would +be better to be dead, leaving no tomb or name or other ridiculous and +disagreeable thing, but disappearing into the air or the sea. It +doesn't seem natural; but I have never been so happy as one time when I +was in Paris sick, alone and with a fever. I was in an hotel room and +my window looked into the garden of a fine house, where I could see the +tops of the trees; and I transformed them into a virgin forest, wherein +marvellous adventures happened to me. + +"Since then I have often thought that things are probably neither good +nor bad, neither sad nor happy, in themselves; he who has sound, normal +nerves, and a brain equally sound, reflects the things around him like a +good mirror, and feels with comfort the impression of his conformity to +nature; nowadays we who have nerves all upset and brains probably upset +too, form deceptive reflections. And so, that time in Paris, sick and +shut in, I was happy; and here, sound and strong, when toward nightfall, +I look at the splendid skies, the palaces, the yellow walls that take an +extraordinary tone, I feel that I am one of the most miserable men on +the planet...." + + + +_ONE SUNDAY AFTERNOON_ + +His lack of tranquillity led Caesar to make absurd resolutions which he +didn't carry out. + +One Sunday in the beginning of April, he went out into the street, +disposed to take a walk outside of Rome, following the road anywhere it +led. A hard, fine rain was falling, the sky was grey, the air mild, the +streets were full of puddles, the shops closed; a few flower merchants +were offering branches of almond in blossom. + +Caesar was very depressed. He went into a church to get out of the rain. +The church was full; there were many people in the centre of it; he +didn't know what they were doing. Doubtless they were gathered there for +some reason, although Caesar didn't understand what. Caesar sat down on +a bench, worn out; he would have liked to listen to organ music, to a +boy choir. No ideas occurred to him but sentimental ones. Some time +passed, and a priest began to preach. Caesar got up and went into the +street. + +"I must get rid of these miserable impressions, get back to noble ideas. +I must fight this sentimental leprosy." + +He started to walk with long strides through the sad, empty streets. + +He went toward the river and met Kennedy, who was coming back, he told +him, from the studio of a sculptor friend of his. + +"You look like desolation. What has happened to you?" + +"Nothing, but I am in a perfectly hellish humour." + +"I am melancholy too. It must be the weather. Let's take a walk." + +They went along the bank of the Tiber. Full of clay, more turbid than +ever, and very high between the white embankments hemming it in, the +river looked like a big sewer. + +"This is not the 'coeruleus Tibris' that Virgil speaks of in the +Aeneld, which presented itself to Aeneas in the form of an ancient man +with his head crowned with roses," said Kennedy. + +"No. This is a horrible river," Caesar opined. + +They followed the shore, passed the Castel Sant' Angelo and the bridge +with the statues. + +From the embankment, to the right, they could now see narrow lanes, sunk +almost below the level of the river. On the other bank a new, white +edifice towered in the rain. + +They went as far as the Piazza d'Armi, and then came back at nightfall +to Rome. The rain was gradually ceasing and the sky looked less +threatening. A file of greenish gaslights followed the river-wall and +then crossed over the bridge. + +They walked to the Piazza del Popolo and through the Via Babuino to the +Piazza di Spagna. + +"Would you like to go to a Benedictine abbey tomorrow?" asked Kennedy. + +"All right." + +"And if you are still melancholy, we will leave you there." + + + +_THE ABBEY_ + +The next day, after lunch, Kennedy and Caesar went to visit the abbey of +Sant' Anselmo on the Aventine. The abbot, Hildebrand, was a friend +of Kennedy's, and like him an Englishman. + +They took a carriage and Kennedy told it to stop at the church of Santa +Sabina. + +"It is still too early to go to the abbey. Let us look at this church, +which is the best preserved of all the old Roman ones." + +They entered the church; but it was so cold there that Caesar went out +again directly and waited in the porch. There was a man there selling +rosaries and photographs who spoke scarcely any Italian or French, but +did speak Spanish. Probably he was a Jew. + +Caesar asked him where they manufactured those religious toys, and the +pedlar told him in Westphalia. + +Kennedy went to look at a picture by Sassoferrato, which is in one of +the chapels, and meanwhile the rosary-seller showed the church door to +Caesar and explained the different bas-reliefs, cut in cypress wood by +Greek artists of the V Century, and representing scenes from the Old and +New Testaments. + +Kennedy came back, they got into the carriage again, and they drove to +the Benedictine abbey. + +"Is the abbot Hildebrandus here?" asked Kennedy. + +Out came the abbot, a man of about fifty, with a gold cross on his +breast. They exchanged a few friendly words, and the superior showed +them the convent. + +The refectory was clean and very spacious; the long table of shining +wood; the floor made of mosaic. The crypt held a statue, which Caesar +assumed must be of Sant' Anselmo. The church was severe, without +ornaments, without pictures; it had a primitive air, with its columns of +fine granite that looked like marble. A monk was playing the harmonium, +and in the opaque veiled light, the thin music gave a strange impression +of something quite outside this life. + +Afterwards they crossed a large court with palm-trees. They went up to +the second story, and down a corridor with cells, each of which had on +the lintel the name of the patron saint of the respective monk. Each +door had a card with the name of the occupant of the room. + +It looked more like a bath-house than a monastery. The cells were +comfortable inside, without any air of sadness; each held a bed, a +divan, and a small bookcase. + +By a window at the end of the passage, one could see, far away, the +Alban Hills, looking like a blue mountain-range, half hidden in white +haze, and nearby one could see the trees in the Protestant cemetery and +the pyramid of Caius Cestius close to them. + +Caesar felt a sort of deep repugnance for the people shut up here, +remote from life and protected from it by a lot of things. + +"The man who is playing the harmonium in this church with its opaque +light, is a coward," he said to himself. "One must live and struggle in +the open air, among men, in the midst of their passions and hatreds, +even though one's miserable nerves quiver and tremble." + +After showing them the monastery, the abbot Hildebrand took them to his +study, where he worked at revising ancient translations of the Bible. He +had photographic copies of all the Latin texts and he was collating them +with the original. + +They talked of the progress of the Church, and the abbot commented with +some contempt on the worldly success of the Jesuit churches, with their +saints who serve as well to get husbands and rich wives as to bring +winning numbers in the lottery. + +Before going out, they went to a window, at the other end of the +corridor from where they had looked out before. Below them they could +see the Tiber as far as the Ripa harbour; opposite, the heights of the +Janiculum, and further, Saint Peter's. + +When they went out, Kennedy said to Caesar: + +"What devilish effect has the abbey produced in you, that you are so +much gayer than when we went in?" + +"It has confirmed me in my idea, which I had lost for a few days." + +"What idea is that?" + +"That we must not defend ourselves in this life, but attack, always +attack." + +"And now you are contented at having found it again?" + +"Yes." + + +_PIRANESI'S GARDEN_ + + +"I am glad, because you have such a pitiable air when you are sad. Would +you like to go to the Priory of Malta, which is only a step from here?" + +"Good." + +They went down in the carriage to the Priory of Malta. They knocked at +the gate and a woman came out who knew Kennedy, and who told them to +wait a moment and she would open the church. + +"Here," said Kennedy, "you have all that remains of the famous Order of +Saint John of Jerusalem. That anti-historic man Bonaparte rooted it +out of Malta. The Order attempted to establish itself in Catania, and +afterwards at Ferrara, and finally took refuge here. Now it has no +property left, and all that remains are its memories and its archives." + +"That is how our descendants will see our Holy Mother the Church. In +Chicago or Boston some traveller will find an abandoned chapel, and will +ask: 'What is this? 'And they will tell him: 'This is what remains of +the Catholic Church.'" + +"Don't talk like an Homais," said Kennedy. + +"I don't know who Homais is," retorted Caesar. + +"An atheistical druggist in Flaubert's novel, _Madame Bovary. Haven't +you read it?" + +"Yes; I have a vague idea that I have read it. A very heavy thing; yes, +... I think I have read it." + +The woman opened the door and they went into the church. It was small, +overcharged with ornaments. They saw the tomb of Bishop Spinelli and +Giotto's Virgin, and then went into a hall gay with red flags with a +white cross, on whose walls they could read the names of the Grand +Masters of the Order of Malta. The majority of the names were French and +Polish. Two or three were Spanish, and among them that of Caesar Borgia. + +"Your countryman and namesake was also a Grand Master of Malta," said +Kennedy. + +"So it seems," replied Caesar with indifference. "I see that you speak +with contempt of that extraordinary man. Is he not congenial to you?" + +"The fact is I don't know his history." + +"Really?" + +"Yes, really." + +"How strange! We must go tomorrow to the Borgia Apartment in the +Vatican." + +"Good." + +They saw the model of an ancient galley which was in the same hall, and +went out through the church into the garden planned by Piranesi. +The woman showed them a very old palm, with a hole in it made by a +hand-grenade in the year '49. It had remained that way more than half +a century, and it was only a few days since the trunk of the palm had +broken. + +From the garden they went, by a path between trees, to the bastion of +Paul III, a little terrace, from which they could see the Tiber at their +feet, and opposite the panorama of Rome and its environs, in the light +of a beautiful spring sunshine.... + + + +XVIII + +CAESAR BORGIA'S MOTTO, "AUT CAESAR, AUT NIHIL" + +_THE BORGIAS_ + + +The next day was one of the days for visiting the Borgia Apartment. +Caesar and Kennedy met in the Piazza di San Pietro, went into the +Vatican museum, and walked by a series of stairs and passageways to the +Gallery of Inscriptions. + +Then they went down to a hall, at whose door there were guards dressed +in slashed clothes, which were parti-coloured, red, yellow, and black. +Some of them carried lances and others swords. + +"Why are the guards here dressed differently?" asked Caesar. + +"Because this belongs to the Dominions of the Pope." + +"And what kind of guards are these?" + +"These are pontifical Swiss guards." + +"They look comic-opera enough," said Caesar. + +"My dear man, don't say that. This costume was designed by no one less +than Michelangelo." + +"All right. At that time they probably looked very well, but now they +have a theatrical effect." + +"It is because you have no veneration. If you were reverential, they +would look wonderful to you." + +"Very well, let us wait and see whether reverence will not spring up in +me. Now, you go on and explain what there is here." + +"This first room, the Hall of Audience, or of the Popes, does not +contain anything notable, as you see," said Kennedy; "the five we are +coming to later, have been restored, but are still the same as at the +time when your countryman Alexander VI was Pope. All five were decorated +by Pinturicchio and his pupils, and all with reference to the Borgias. +The Borgias have their history, not well known in all its details, and +their legend, which is more extensive and more picturesque. Really, it +is not easy to distinguish one from the other." + +"Let's have the history and the legend mixed." + +"I will give you a resume in a few words. Alfonso Borja was a Valencian, +born at Jatiba; he was secretary to the King or Aragon; then Bishop of +Valencia, later Cardinal, and lastly Pope, by the name of Calixtus III. +While Calixtus lives, the Spaniards are all-powerful in Rome. Calixtus +protects his nephews, sons of his sister Isabel and a Valencian named +Lanzol or Lenzol. These nephews drop their original name and take their +mother's, Italianizing its spelling to Borgia. Their uncle, the Pope, +appoints the elder, Don Pedro Luis, Captain of the Church; the second, +Don Rodriguez...." + +"Don Rodriguez?" said Caesar. "In Spanish you can't say Don Rodriguez." + +"Gregorovius calls him that." + +"Then Gregorovius, no doubt, knew no Spanish." + +"In Latin he is called Rodericus." + +"Then it should be Don Rodrigo." + +"All right, Rodrigo. Well, this Don Rodrigo, also from Jatiba, his uncle +makes a Cardinal, and at the death of Pedro Luis, he calls him to +Rome. Rodrigo has had several children before becoming a Cardinal, and +apparently he feels no great enthusiasm for ecclesiastical dignities; +but when he finds himself in Rome, the ambition to be Pope assails him, +and at the death of Innocent VIII, he buys the tiara? Is it legend or +history that he bought the tiara? That is not clear. Now we will go in +and see the portrait of Rodrigo Borgia, who in the series of Popes, +bears the name Alexander VI." + +_ALEXANDER VI AND HIS BROTHER_ + +Kennedy and Caesar entered the first room, the Hall of the Mysteries, +and the Englishman stopped in front of a picture of the Resurrection. +"Here you have Alexander VI, on his knees, adoring Christ who is leaving +the tomb. He is the type of a Southerner; he has a hooked nose, a long +head, tonsured, a narrow forehead, thick lips, a heavy beard, a strong +neck, and small chubby hands. He wears a papal robe of gold, covered +with jewels; the tiara is on the ground beside him. Of the soldiers, +it is supposed that the one asleep by the sepulchre and the one who is +waking and rising up, pulling himself to his knees by the aid of his +lance, are two of the Pope's sons, Caesar and the Duke of Gandia. I +rather believe that the little soldier with the lance is a woman, +perhaps Lucrezia. How does your countryman strike you, my friend?" + +"He is of Mediterranean race, a dolichocephalic Iberian; he has the +small melon-shaped head, the sensual features. He is leptorrhine. He +comes of an intriguing, commercial, lying, and charlatan race." + +"To which you have the honour to belong," said Kennedy, laughing. + +"Certainly." + +"They say this man was a great enthusiast about his countrymen and the +customs of his country. These tiles, which are remains of the original +floor, and the plates you see here, are Valencian. A Spanish painter +told me that several letters of Alexander VI's are preserved in the +archives of the cathedral at Valencia, one among them asking to have +tiles sent." + +Kennedy walked forward a little and planted himself before an Assumption +of the Virgin, and said: + +"It is supposed that this gloomy man dressed in red, with a little +fringe of hair on his brow, is a brother of the Pope's." + +"A bad type to encounter in the Tribunal of the Inquisition," said +Caesar; "imagine what this red-robed fellow would have done with that +Jew at the Excelsior, Senor Pereira, if he had happened to have him in +his power." + +"In the soffits," Kennedy went on, "as you see, are repetitions of the +symbols of Iris, Osiris, and the bull Apis, doubtless because of their +resemblance to the Christian symbols, and also because the bull Apis +recalls the bull in the Borgia arms." "Their arms were a bull?" + +"Yes; it was a 'scutcheon invented by some king-at-arms or other, a +symbol of ferocity and strength." + +"Were they of a noble family, these Borgias?" + +"No, probably not. Though I believe some people suppose that they +were descended from the Aragonese family of Atares. Now that we know +Alexander VI, let us take a glance at his court. It has often been said, +and is no doubt taken from Vasari's book, that in the Borgia Apartment +Pinturicchio painted Pope Alexander VI adoring the Virgin represented +under the likeness of his beloved, Julia Farnese. The critic must have +been confused, because none of these madonnas recalls the face of +_Giulia la bella_, whom people used to call the Bride of Christ. The +picture that Vasari refers to must be one in the museum at Valencia." + +_THE HALL OF THE SAINTS_ + +They went into another room, the Hall of the Saints, and Kennedy took +Caesar in front of the fresco called, _The Dispute of Saint Catherine +with the Emperor Maximian. + +"The place of this scene," said Kennedy, "Pinturicchio has set in front +of the Arch of Constantine. The artist has added the inscription _Pacis +Cultori_, and below he has embossed the Borgia bull. The subject is the +discussion between the Emperor and the saint. Maximian, seated on a +throne under a canopy, is listening to Saint Catherine, who counts on +her fingers the arguments she has been using in the dispute. Who was it +served as model for the figure of Maximian? At first they imagined it +was Caesar Borgia; but as you may observe, the appearance of the Emperor +is that of a man of twenty odd years, and when Pinturicchio painted +this, Caesar was about seventeen. So it is more logical to suppose that +the model must have been the Pope's eldest son, the Duke of Gandia. A +chronicler of the period says that this Duke of Gandia was good among +the great, as his brother Caesar was great among the wicked. Also, +legend or history, whichever it be, says that Caesar procured his +elder brother's murder in a corner of the Ghetto, and that the Pope on +learning of it, became as if crazy, and went into the full Consistory +with his garments torn and ashes on his head." + +"What love for traditional symbolism!" said Caesar. + +"Everybody is not so anti-traditional as you. I will go on with my +explanation," added Kennedy. "Saint Catherine has Lucrezia's features. +She is small and slender. She wears her hair down, a little cap with a +pearl cross which hangs on her forehead, and a collar also of pearls. +She has large eyes, a candid expression. Cagnolo da Parma will say of +her, when she goes to Ferrara, that she has '_il naso profilato e bello, +li capelli aurei, gli occhi bianchi, la bocea alquanto grande con li +denti candiaissimi._' Literature will portray this sweet-faced little +blond girl as a Messalina, a poisoner, and incestuous with her brothers +and her father. At this time Lucrezia had just married Giovanni Sforza, +although as a matter of fact the two never lived together. Giovanni +Sforza is the little young man who appears there in the back of the +picture riding a spirited horse. Sforza wears his hair like a woman, and +has a broad-brimmed hat and a red mantle. A little later Caesar Borgia +will try several times to assassinate him." + +"What for?" asked Caesar. + +"No doubt he found him in the way. The man who is in the foreground, +next to the Emperor's throne, is Andrew Paleologos," Kennedy continued. +"He is the one wearing a pale purple cloak and looking so melancholy. It +used to be supposed that he was Giovanni Borgia. Now they say that it is +Paleologos, whom the death of the Emperor Constantine XIII, about this +time, had caused to lose the crown of Byzance. + +"Here at the right, riding a Barbary horse, is Prince Djem, second son +of Muhammad II, whom Alexander VI kept as a hostage. Djem, as you see, +has an expressive face, a prominent nose, lively eyes, a long pointed +beard, a shock of hair, and a big turban. He rides Moorish fashion, with +his stirrups very short, and wears a curved cutlass in his belt. He is a +great friend of Caesar Borgia's, which does not prevent Caesar and his +father, according to public rumour, from poisoning him at a farewell +banquet in Capua. And here is Giovanni Sforza again, on foot. Are those +two children the younger sons of Alexander VI? Or are they Lucrezia and +Caesar again? I don't know. Behind Paleologos are the Pope's domestic +retainers, and among them Pinturicchio himself." + +_THE LIFE OF CAESAR BORGIA_ + +After explaining the picture in detail, Kennedy went into the next room, +followed by Caesar. This is called the Hall of the Liberal Arts, and is +adorned with a large marble mantel. + +"Is there no portrait here of Caesar Borgia?" asked Caesar. + +"No. Here I have a photograph of the one by Giorgione," said Kennedy, +showing a postal card. + +"What sort of man was he? What did he do?" + +Kennedy seated himself on a bench near the window and Caesar sat beside +him. + +"Caesar Borgia," said Kennedy, "came to Rome from the university of +Pisa, approximately at the time when they made his father Pope. He must +then have been about twenty, and was strong and active. He broke in +horses, was an expert fencer and shot, and killed bulls in the ring." + +"That too?" + +"He was a good Spaniard. In a court that cannot be seen from here, on +account of those thick panes, but on which these windows look, Caesar +Borgia fought bulls, and the Pope stood here to watch his son's +dexterity with the sword." + +"What ruffians!" exclaimed Caesar, smiling. + +The Englishman continued with the history of Borgia, his intrigues with +the King of France, the death of Lucrezia's husband, the assassinations +attributed to the Pope's son, the mysterious execution of Ramiro del +Orco, which made Machiavelli say that Caesar Borgia was the prince who +best knew how to make and unmake men, according to their merits; finally +the _coup d'etat_ at Sinigaglia with the _condottieri_. + +By this time Caesar Moncada was very anxious to know more. These Borgias +interested him. His sympathies went out toward those great bandits who +dominated Rome and tried to get all Italy into their power, leaf by +leaf, like an artichoke. Their purpose struck him as a good one, almost +a moral one. The device, _Aut Caesar, aut nihil_, was worthy of a man of +energy and courage. + +Kennedy seeing Caesar's interest, then recounted the scene at Cardinal +Adrian Corneto's country-house; Alexander's intention to give a supper +there to various Cardinals and poison them all with a wine that had +been put into three bottles, so as to inherit from them, the +superstitiousness of the Pope, who sent Cardinal Caraffa to the Vatican +for a golden box in which he kept his consecrated Host, from which he +was never separated; and the mistake of the chamberlain, who served the +poisoned wine to Caesar and his father. + +"Here, to this very room, they brought the dying Pope," said Kennedy, +and pointed to a door, on whose marble lintel one may read: _Alexander +Borgia Valentin P. P._ "They say he passed eight days here between life +and death, before he did die, and that when his corpse was exposed, it +decomposed horribly." + +Then Kennedy related the story of Caesar's trying to cure himself by the +strange method of being put inside of a mule just dead; his flight from +Rome, sick on a litter, with his soldiers, as far as the Romagna; his +imprisonment in the Castel Sant' Angelo; his capture by the Great +Captain; his efforts to escape from his prison at Medina del Campo; and +his obscure death on the Mendavia road, near Viana in Navarre, through +one of the Count of Lerin's soldiers, named Garces, a native of Agreda, +who gave Borgia such a blow with a lance that it broke his armour and +passed all the way through his body. + +Caesar was stirred up. Hearing the story of the people who had lived +there, in those very rooms, gave him an impression of complete reality. + +When they went out again by the Gallery of Inscriptions, they looked +from a window. + +"It must have been here that he fought bulls?" said Caesar. + +"Yes." + +The court was large, with a fountain of four streams in the middle. +"Life then must have been more intense than now," said Caesar. + +"Who knows? Perhaps it was the same as now," replied Kennedy. + +"And what does history, exact history, say of these Borgias?" + +"Of Pope Alexander VI it says that he had his children in wedlock; that +he was a good administrator; that the people were content with him; that +the influence of Spain was justifiable, because he was Spanish; that the +story of the poisonings does not seem certain; and that he himself could +hardly have died of poison, but rather of a malarial fever." + +"And about Lucrezia?" + +"Of Lucrezia it says that she was a woman like those of her period; that +there are no proofs for belief in her incests and her poisonings; and +that her first marriages, which were never really consummated, were +nothing more than political moves of her father and her brother's." + +"And about Caesar?" + +"Caesar is the one member of the family who appears really terrible. +His device, _Aut Caesar, aut nihil_, was not a chance phrase, but the +irrevocable decision to be a king or to be nothing." + +"That, at least, is not a mystification," murmured Caesar. + + +_IN FRONT OF THE CASTEL SANT' ANGELO_ + +They left the Vatican, crossed the Piazza di San Pietro, and drew near +the river. + +As they passed in front of the Castel Sant' Angelo, Kennedy said: + +"Alexander VI shut himself up in this castle to weep for the Duke of +Gandia. From one of those windows he watched the funeral procession of +his son, whom they were carrying to Santa Maria del Popolo. According to +old Italian custom they bore the corpse in an open casket. The funeral +was at night, and two hundred men with torches lighted the way. When the +cortege set foot on this bridge, the Pope's retinue saw him draw back +with horror, and cover his face, crying out sharply." + + + + +XIX + +CAESAR'S REFLECTIONS + + +"I have had the curiosity," Caesar wrote to his friend Alzugaray, "to +inform myself about the life of the Borgias, and going on from one to +another, I reached Saint Francis Borgia; and from Saint Francis I have +gone backwards to Saint Ignatius Loyola. + +"The parallelism between the doings of Caesar Borgia and of Inigo de +Loyola surprised me; what one tried to do in the sphere of action, the +other did in the sphere of thought. These twin Spanish figures, both +odious to the masses, have given its direction to the Church; one, +Loyola, through the impulse to spiritual power; the other, Caesar +Borgia, through the impulse to temporal power. + +"One may say that Spain gave Papal Rome its thought and activity, as +it gave the Rome of the Caesars also its thought and activity, through +Seneca and Trajan. + +"Really it is curious to see the traces that remain in Rome of +that Basque, Inigo. That half farceur, half ruffian, who had the +characteristics of a modern anarchist, was a genius for organization. +Bakunin and Mazzini are poor devils beside him. The Church still lives +through Loyola. He was her last reformer. + +"The Society of Jesus is the knot of the whole Catholic scaffolding; the +Jesuits know that on the day when this knot, which their Society forms, +is cut or pulled open, the whole frame-work of out-of-date ideas and +lies, which defends the Vatican, will come down with a terrible noise. + +"Rome lives on Jesuitism. Indubitably, without Loyola, Catholicism would +have rotted away much sooner. It is obvious that this would have been +better, but we are not talking about that. A good general is not one who +defends just causes, but one who wins battles. + +"The Borgias, Luther, and Saint Ignatius, between them, killed the +predominance of the Latin race. + +"The Borgias threw discredit on the free Renaissance life, before the +face of all nations; Luther removed the centre of spiritual life and +philosophy to Germany and England; Saint Ignatius prevented Roman +Catholicism from rotting away; he put iron braces on the body that was +doubling over with weakness, and inside his braces the body has gone on +decomposing and has poisoned the Latin countries. + +"On hearing this opinion here, they asked me: + +"'Then you think Catholicism is dead?' + +"'No, no; as to having any civilizing effect, it is dead; but as to +having a sentimental effect, it is very much alive ... and it will still +unfortunately keep on being alive. All this business of the Virgin +del Pilar and the Virgin del Carmen, and saints, and processions, and +magnificent churches, is a terrible strength.... If there were an +emancipated bourgeoisie and a sensible working class, Catholicism would +not be a peril; but there are not, and Catholicism will have, not +perhaps an overpowering expansion, but at least moments of new growth. +While we have a lazy rich class and a brutalized poor class, Catholicism +will be strong.' + +"Leaving the utilitarian and moral questions aside, and considering +merely the amount of influence and the traces left by this influence, +one can see that Rome is living on Loyola's work and still dreaming +of Borgia's. Those pilgrims in the Piazza di San Pietro who +enthusiastically yell, _Viva il Papa-re!_ are acclaiming the memory of +Caesar Borgia. Thus you have the absurd result, people who speak with +horror of an historic figure and still hold his work in admiration. + +"This Spanish influence that our country gave to the Church in two ways, +spiritual and material,--to the Church which now is an institution not +merely foreign but contrary to our nature,--Spain ought today to try +to use in her own behalf. Spain's work ought to be to organize +extra-religious individualism. + +"We are individualists; therefore what we need is an iron discipline, +like soldiers. + +"This discipline established, we ought to spread it through the +contiguous countries, especially through Africa. Democracy, the +Republic, Socialism, have not, essentially, any root in our land. +Families, cities, classes, can be united in a pact; isolated men, like +us, can be united only by discipline. + +"Moreover, as for us, we do not recognize prestige, nor do we cheerfully +accept either kings or presidents or high priests or grand magi. + +"The only thing that would suit us would be to have a chief ... for the +pleasure of eating him alive. + +"A Loyola of the extra-religious individualism is what Spain needs. +Deeds, always deeds, and a cold philosophy, realistic, based on deeds, +and a morality based on action. Don't you agree? + +"I think, and I am becoming more confirmed in my opinion, that the only +people who can give a direction, found a new civilization with its own +proper characteristics, for that old Iberian race, which probably sprang +from the shores of the Mediterranean ... is we Spaniards. + +"'Why only you Spaniards?' my friend Kennedy asked me; and I told him: + +"'To me it seems indubitable. France is leaning constantly more towards +the North. In Italy the same is true; Milan and Turin, where the Saxon +and the Gaul predominate, are the real capitals of Italy. In Spain, +however, this does not happen. We are separated from the rest of Europe +by the Pyrenees, and joined to Africa by the sea and climate. Our plan +ought to be to construct a great European Empire, to impose our ideas on +the peninsula, and then to spread them everywhere.'" + + + + +XX + +DON CALIXTO AT SAINT PETER'S + +_DON CALIXTO UNDERSTANDS_ + + +Kennedy was anxious that Caesar should turn into the good road. The good +road, for him, was art. + +"At heart," the Englishman informed him, "I am one of those Brothers of +the Esthetic Doctrine who irritate you, and I must instruct you in the +faith." + +"I am not opposed to your trying to instruct me." + +The two went several times to see museums, especially the Vatican +museum. + +One day, on leaving the Sistine Chapel, where they had had a long +discussion on the merits of Michelangelo, Caesar met the painter Cortes, +who came to speak to him. + +"I am here with a gentleman from my town, who is a Senator," said +Cortes. "A boresome old boy. Shall I introduce him?" + +"All right." + +"He is an old fool who knows nothing about anything and talks about +everything." + +Cortes presented Caesar to Don Calixto Garcia Guerrero, a man of some +fifty-odd, Senator and boss of the province of Zamora. + +Don Calixto invited Caesar and Kennedy to dine with him. The Englishman +expressed regrets, and Caesar said he would go. They took leave of +Cortes and Don Calixto, and went out to the Piazza di San Pietro. + +"I imagine you are going to be bored tomorrow dining with that old +countryman of yours," said Kennedy. "Oh, surely. He has all the signs +of a soporific person; but who knows? a type like that sometimes has +influence." + +"So you are dining with him with a more or less practical object?" + +"Why, of course." + +The next evening, Caesar, in his evening clothes, betook himself to an +hotel in the Piazza di Spagna, where Don Calixto Garcia Guerrero was +staying. Don Calixto received him very cordially. He doubtless knew that +Caesar was nephew to Cardinal Fort and brother to a marchioness, and +doubtless that flattered Don Calixto. + +Don Calixto honoured Caesar with an excellent dinner, and during dessert +became candid with him. He had come to Rome to put through his obtaining +a Papal title. He was a friend of the Spanish Ambassador to the Vatican, +and it wouldn't have cost him any more to be made a prince, a duke, or +a marquis; but he preferred the title of count. He had a magnificent +estate called La Sauceda, and he wanted to be the Count de la Sauceda. + +Caesar comprehended that this gentleman might be fortune coming in the +guise of chance, and he set himself to making good with him, to telling +him stories of aristocratic life in Rome, some of which he had read in +books, and some of which he had heard somewhere or other. + +"What vices must exist here!" Don Calixto kept exclaiming. "That is why +they say: _'Roma veduta, fede perduta.'_" + +Caesar noted that Don Calixto had a great enthusiasm for the +aristocracy; and so he took pains, every time he talked with him, to mix +the names of a few princes and marquises into the conversation; he also +gave him to understand that he lived among them, and went so far as to +hint the possibility of being of service to him in Rome, but in a +manner ambiguous enough to permit of withdrawing the offer in case of +necessity. Fortunately for Caesar, Don Calixto had his affairs all +completely arranged; the one thing he desired was that Caesar, whom he +supposed to be an expert on archeological questions, should go about +with him the three or four days he expected to remain in Rome. He had +spent a whole week making calls, and as yet had seen nothing. + +Caesar had no other recourse but to buy a Baedeker and read it and learn +a lot of things quite devoid of interest for him. + +The next day Don Calixto was waiting for him in a carriage at the door, +and they went to see the sights. + +Don Calixto was a man that made phrases and ornamented them with many +adverbs ending in -ly. + +"Verily," he said, after his first archeological walk in Rome, "verily, +it seems strange that after more than two thousand years have passed, +all these monuments should still remain." + +"That is most true," replied Caesar, looking at him with his impassive +air. + +"I understand why Rome is the real school for learning, integrally, both +ancient and modern history." + +"Most certainly," agreed Caesar. + +Don Calixto, who knew neither Italian nor French, found a source of +help, for the days he was to spend in Rome, in Caesar's friendship, +and made him accompany him everywhere. Caesar was able to collect and +preserve, though not precisely cut in brass, the phrases Don Calixto +uttered in front of the principal monuments of Rome. + +In front of the Colosseum, his first exclamation was: "What a lot of +stone!" Then recalling his role of orator, he exclaimed: "The spirits +are certainly daunted and the mind darkened on thinking how men could +have sunk to such abysses of evil." + +"Don Calixto is referring to those holes," thought Caesar, looking at +the cellars of the Circo Romano. + +From the Colosseum the carriage went to the Capitol, and then Don +Calixto asserted with energy: + +"One cannot deny that, say what you will, Rome is one of the places most +fertile in memories." + +Don Calixto was an easy traveller for his _cicerone_. He far preferred +talking to being given explanations; Caesar had said to him: "Don +Calixto, you understand everything, by intuition." And being thus +reassured, Don Calixto kept uttering terrible absurdities. + +One day Don Calixto went to see the Pope, in evening clothes and +with his abdomen covered with decorations, and he asked Caesar if +a photographer couldn't take his picture in the act of leaving the +carriage, so that the photograph would have Saint Peter's as a +background. + +"Yes, I think so. Why not? The only thing will be that the photographer +will charge you more." + +"I don't mind that. Could you arrange it for me?" + +"Yes, man." + +What Don Calixto desired was done. + +"How did the Pope impress you?" Caesar asked him as he came out + +"Very favourably, very favourably indeed." + +"He has a stupid face, hasn't he?" + +"No, man, not at all. He is like a nice country priest. His predecessor +was no doubt more of a diplomat, more intelligent." + +"Yes, the other seemed more of a rogue," said Caesar, laughing at the +precautions Don Calixto took in giving his opinion. + +The proofs of the photographs came in the evening, and Don Calixto was +enchanted with them. In one of them you could see the Swiss guard at +the door, with his lance. It was splendid. Don Calixto would not permit +Caesar to go to his hotel, but invited him for dinner; and after dinner +told him he was so indebted that he would be delighted to do anything +Caesar asked him. + +"Why don't you make me a Deputy?" said Caesar, laughing. + +"Do you want to be one?" + +"Yes, man." + +"Really?" + +"I should think so." + +"But you would have to live in Madrid." + +"Certainly." + +"Would you leave here?" + +"Yes, why not?" + +"Then, not another word, we will say no more about it. When the time +comes, you will write to me and say: 'Don Calixto, the moment has +arrived for you to remember your promise: I want to be a Deputy.'" + +"Very good. I will do it, and you shall present me as candidate for +Castro ... Castro ... what?" + +"Castro Duro." + +"You will see me there then." + +"All right. And now, another favour. There is a Canon from Zamora here, +a friend of mine, who came on the pilgrimage and who desires nothing +so much as to see Saint Peter's and the Catacombs rather thoroughly. I +could explain everything to him, but I am not sure about the dates. Will +you come with us?" + +"With great pleasure." + +"Then we shall expect you here at ten." + +"That will be fine." + +Sure enough, at ten Caesar was there. Don Calixto and his friend the +Canon Don Justo, who was a large gentleman, tall and fleshy and with a +long nose, were waiting. The three got into the carriage. + +"I hope this priest isn't going to be one of those library rats who +know everything on earth," thought Caesar, but when he heard him make a +couple of mistakes in grammar, he became tranquil. + + +_THEODORA AND MAROZIA_ + +As they passed the Castel Sant' Angelo, Caesar began to tell the story +of Theodora and her daughter Marozia, the two women who lived there and +who, for forty odd years, changed the Popes as one changes cooks. + +"You know the history of those women?" asked Caesar. + +"I don't," said the Canon. + +"Nor I," added Don Calixto. + +"Then I will tell it to you before we get to Saint Peter's. Theodora, an +influential lady, fell in love with a young priest of Ravenna, and had +him elected Pope, by the name of John X. Her daughter Marozia, a young +girl and a virgin, gave herself to Pope Sergius III, a capricious, +fantastic man, who had once had the witty idea of digging up Pope +Formosus and subjecting him, putrefied as he was, to the judgment of +a Synod. By this eccentric man Marozia had a son, and afterwards was +married three times more. She exercised an omnipotent sway over the Holy +See. John X, her mother's lover, she deposed and sent to die in prison. +With his successor, Leo VI, whom she herself had appointed Pope, she +did the same. The following Pope, Stephen VII, died of illness, twenty +months after his reign began, and then Marozia gave the Papal crown to +the son she had had by Sergius III, who took the name of John XI. This +Pope and his brother Alberic, began to feel their mother's influence +rather heavy, and during a popular revolt they decided to get Marozia +into their power, and they seized her and buried her alive in the _in +pace_ of a convent." + +"But is all this authentic?" asked the Canon, completely stupefied. + +"Absolutely authentic." + +The Canon made a gesture of resignation and looked at Don Calixto in +astonishment. + +While Caesar was telling the story, the carriage had passed down a +narrow and rather deserted street, called Borgo Vecchio, in whose +windows clothes were hanging out to dry, and then they came out in +the Piazza di San Pietro. They drove around one edge of this enormous +square. The sky was blue. A fountain was throwing water, which changed +to a cloud in the air and produced a brilliant rainbow. + +"One certainly wonders," said Caesar, "if Saint Peter's is not one of +the buildings in the worst taste that exist in the world." + +They got out in front of the steps. + +"Your friend is probably well up on archeological matters?" asked +Caesar. + +"Who? Don Justo? Not in the least." + +Caesar began to laugh, went up the steps ahead of the others, lifted the +leather curtain, and they all three went into Saint Peter's. _THERE IS +NO PERFORMANCE_ + +Caesar began his explanations with the plan of the church. The Canon +passed his hand over all the stones and kept saying: + +"This is marble too," and adding, "How expensive!" + +"Do you like this, Don Calixto?" Caesar asked. + +"What a question, man!" + +"Well, it is obviously very rich and very sumptuous, but it must give a +fanatic coming here from far away the same feeling a person gets when +he has a cold and asks for a hot drink and is given a glass of iced +orgeat." + +"Don't let Don Justo hear you," said Don Calixto, as if they ought to +keep the secret about the orgeat between the two of them. + +They came to the statue of Saint Peter, and Caesar told them it is the +custom for strangers to kiss its foot. The Canon piously did so, but +Don Calixto, who was somewhat uneasy, rubbed the statue's worn foot +surreptitiously with his handkerchief and then kissed it. + +Caesar abstained from kissing it, because he said the kiss was +efficacious principally for strangers. + +Then they went along, looking at the tombs of the Popes. Caesar was +several times mistaken in his explanations, but his friends did not +notice his mistakes. + +The thing that surprised the Canon most was the tomb of Alexander +VII, because there is a skeleton on it. Don Calixto stopped with most +curiosity before the tomb of Paul III, on which one sees two nude women. +Caesar told them that popular legend claims that one of these statues, +the one representing Justice, is Julia Farnese, sister of Pope Paul +III, and mistress of Pope Alexander VI; but such a supposition seems +unlikely. + +"Entirely," insisted the Canon gravely; "those are things invented by +the Free Thinkers." + +Don Calixto allowed himself to say that most of the Popes looked like +drum-majors. + +Don Justo continued appraising everything he saw like a contractor. +Caesar devoted himself to retailing his observations to Don Calixto, +while the Canon walked alone. + +"I will inform you," he told him, "that on Saturday one may go up in +the dome, but only decently dressed people. So a placard on that door +informs us. If by any chance an apostle should re-arise and have a +fancy to do a little gymnastics and see Rome from a height, as he would +probably be dirty and badly dressed, he would get left, they wouldn't +let him go up. And then he could say: 'Invent a religion like the +Christian religion, so that after a while they won't let you go up in +the dome.'" + +"Yes, certainly, certainly," replied Don Calixto. "They are absurd. But +do not let the Canon hear you. To be sure, all this does not look very +religious, but it is magnificent." + +"Yes, it is a beautiful stage-setting, but there is no performance," +said Caesar. + +"What do you mean by that?" asked Don Calixto. + +"That this is an empty place. It would have been well to build a temple +as large and light as this in honour of Science, which is humanity's +great creation. These statues, instead of being stupid or warlike Popes, +ought to be the inventor of vaccination or of chloroform. Then one could +understand the chilliness and the fairly menacing air that everything in +the place wears. Let people have confidence in the truth and in work, +that is good; but that a religion founded on mysteries, on obscurities, +should build a bright, challenging, flippant temple, is ridiculous." + +"Yes, yes," said Don Calixto, always preoccupied in keeping the Canon +from hearing, "you talk like a modern man. I myself, down in my heart, +you know.... I believe you follow me, eh?" + +"Yes, man." + +"Well, I think that all this has no transcendency.... That is to say...." + +"No, it has none. You may well say so, Don Calixto." + +"But it did have it. That cannot be doubted, can it? And a great deal. +This is undeniable." + + + +_IT IS A MAGNIFICENT BUSINESS CONCERN_ + +"It was really a magnificent business concern," said Caesar. "Think +of monopolizing heaven and hell, selling the shares here on earth and +paying the dividends in heaven! There's no guarantee trust company or +pawn-broker that pays an interest like that. And at its height, how many +branches it developed! Here, in this square, I have a friend, a Jewish +dealer in rosaries, who tells me his trade is flourishing. In three +weeks he has sold a hundred and fifty kilos of rosaries blessed by the +Pope, two hundred kilos of medals, and about half a square kilometre of +scapulars." + +"What an exaggeration!" said Don Calixto. + +"No, it is the truth. He is glad that these things, which he considers +accursed, sell, because after all, he is a liberal and a Jew; the only +thing he does, if he can, to ease his conscience, is to get ten per +cent. profit on everything, and he says to himself: 'Let the Catholics +worry!'" + +"What tales! If the Canon should hear you!" + +"No, but all this is true. As my friend says: Business is business. And +he has made me take notice that when the Garibaldini come here, they +spend the price of a few bottles of Chianti, and then they sleep in any +dog-kennel, and spend nothing more. On the contrary, the rich Catholics +buy and buy ... and off go his kilos of rosaries and of medals, his tons +of veils for visiting the Pope, his reams of indulgences for eating +meat, and for eating fish and meat, and even for blowing your nose on +pages of the Bible if you like." + +"Do not be so disrespectful." + +When the Canon had made sure of all the square metres of marble there +are in Saint Peter's they went out into the square again. Caesar +indicated the heap of irregular edifices that form the Vatican. + +"That ought to be the Pope's room," said Caesar, pointing to a window, +at random. "You must have been there, Don Calixto?" "I don't know. +Really," he said, "I haven't much idea where I was." + +"Nor has he any idea how he went," thought Caesar, and added: "That is +the Library; over there is the Secretary of State's apartment; there is +where the Holy Office meets"; and he said whatsoever occurred to him, +perfectly tranquilly. + +They took their carriage, and as they passed a shop for objects of +religion, Don Calixto said to the Canon: + +"What do you say to this, Don Justo? According to Don Caesar, the +proprietors of the shops where they sell medals, are Jews." + +"Bah! that cannot be so," replied the Canon roundly. + +"Why not?" + +"Bah!" + +"Why should it shock you?" exclaimed Caesar. "If they sold Jesus Christ +alive, why are they not to sell him dead?" + +"Well, I am glad to know it," Don Justo burst forth, "because I was +going to buy some medals for presents, and now I won't buy them." + +Don Calixto smiled, and Caesar understood that the good Canon was taking +advantage of the information to save a penny. + + + + +XXI + +DON CALIXTO IN THE CATACOMBS + + +Don Calixto and the Canon were very anxious to visit the Catacombs. +Caesar knew that the visit is not entirely agreeable, and attempted to +dissuade them from their intention. + +"I don't know whether you gentlemen know that one has to spend the +entire day there." + +"Without lunch?" asked the Canon. + +"Yes." + +"Oh, no; that is impossible." + +"One has to sacrifice oneself for the sake of Christianity," said +Caesar. + +"You haven't much desire to sacrifice yourself," retorted Don Calixto. + +"Because I believe it is damp and unwholesome down there, and a +Christian bronchitis would not be wholly pleasant, despite its religious +origin. And besides, as you already know, one must go without food." + +"We might eat something there," said Don Justo. + +"Eat there!" exclaimed Caesar. "Eat a slice of ham, in front of the +niches of the Catacombs! It would make me sick." + +"It wouldn't me," replied the Canon. + +"In front of the tombs of martyrs and saints!" + +"Even if they were saints, they ate too," replied the Canon, with his +excellent good sense. + +Caesar had to agree that even if they were saints, they ate. + +There was a French family at the hotel who were also thinking of going +to see the Catacombs, and Don Calixto and Don Justo decided to go the +same day with them. The French family consisted of a Breton gentleman, +tall and whiskered, who had been at sea; his wife, who looked like a +village woman; and the daughter, a slender, pale, sad young lady. They +had with them, half governess, half maid, a lean peasant-woman with a +suspicious air. + +The young lady confessed to Caesar that she had been dreaming of the +Catacombs for a long while. She knew the description Chateaubriand gives +of them in _Les Martyres_ by heart. + +The next day the French family in one landau, and Don Calixto with the +Canon and Caesar in another, went to see the Catacombs. + +The French family had brought a fat, smiling abbe as cicerone. + +Five persons couldn't get inside the landau, and the Breton gentleman +had to sit by the driver. Don Calixto offered him a seat in his +carriage, but the Breton, who must have been obstinate as a mule, said +no, that from the driver's seat he enjoyed more of the panorama. + +They halted a moment, on the abbe's advice, at the Baths of Caracalla, +and went through them. The cicerone explained where the different +bathing-rooms had been and the size of the pools. Those cyclopean +buildings, those high, high arches, those enormous walls, left Caesar +overcome. + +One couldn't understand a thing like this except in a town which had a +mania for the gigantic, the titanic. + +They left the baths and started along. They followed the Via di Porta +San Sebastiano, between two walls. They left behind the imposing ruins +of the Baths of Caracalla and various establishments for archeological +reconstructions, and the carriage stopped at the gate of the Catacombs. + +They went in, guided by the abbe, and arrived at a sort of office. + +They each paid a lira for a taper which a friar was handing out, and +they joined a group of other people, without quite knowing what they +expected next. In the group there were two German Dominicans, a tall one +whose fiery red beard hung to his waist, and a slim one, with a nose +like a knife. + + +_IRREVERENT CICERONE_ + +It was not long before another numerous group of tourists came out of a +hole in the floor, and among them was a Trappist brother who came over +to where Don Calixto and Caesar were. The Trappist carried a stick, +and a taper twisted in the end of the stick. He asked if everybody +understood French; any one that didn't could wait for another group. + +"I don't understand it," said the Canon. + +"I will translate what he says, to you," replied Caesar. + +"All right," answered the Canon. + +"_En avant, messieurs_," said the Trappist, lighting his taper, and +requesting them all to do the same. + +They went around giving one another a light, and with their little +candles aflame they began to descend into the Catacombs. + +They went in by a gallery as narrow as one in a mine, which once in a +while broadened into bigger spaces. + +In certain spots there were openings in the roof. + +Caesar had never thought about what the celebrated Catacombs would be +like, but he had not expected them so poor and so sinister. + +The sensation they caused was disagreeable, a sensation of choking, of +suffocation, without one's really getting any impression of grandeur. +The place seemed like an abandoned ant-hill. The wide spaces that opened +out at the sides of the passage were chapels, the monk said. + +The Trappist cicerone contributed to removing any serious feelings with +his chatter and his jokes. Being familiar with these tombs, he had lost +respect for them, as sacristans lose it for the saints they brush the +dust off of with a feather-duster. Moreover, he judged everything by an +esthetic criterion, completely devoid of respect; for him there were +only sepulchres with artistic character, or without it; of a good or +a poor period; and the latter sort he struck contemptuously with his +stick. + +The marine Breton was irritated, and asked Caesar several times: + +"Why is that permitted?" "I don't know," answered Caesar. + +The monk made extraordinary remarks. + +Explaining the life of the Christians in the earliest eras of +Christianity, he said: + +"In this century the habits of the pontiffs were so lax that the +Pope had to go out accompanied by two persons to insure his modest +behaviour." + +"Oh, oh!" said a young Frenchman, in a tone of vexation. + +_"Ah! C'est L'histoire,"_ replied the monk. + +Caesar translated what the Trappist had said, to Don Calixto and the +Canon, and they were both really perplexed. + +They followed the long, narrow galleries. It was a strange effect, +seeing the procession of tourists with their burning candles. One didn't +notice the modern clothes and the ladies' hats, and from a distance the +procession lighted by the little flames of the candles, had a mysterious +look. + +At the tail of the crowd walked two men who spoke English. One was a +"gentleman" little versed in archeological questions; the other a tall +person with the face of a scholar. Caesar drew near them to listen. The +one was explaining to his companion everything they saw as they went +along, the signification of the emblems cut in the tablets, and the +funerary customs of the Christians. + +"Didn't they put crosses?" asked the unlearned gentleman. + +"No," said the other. "It is said that for the Romans the _crux_ +represented the gallows! Thus the earliest representation of the +Crucified is a drawing in the Kirchnerian museum, which shows a +Christian kneeling before a man with a donkey's head, who is nailed to a +cross. In Greek letters one reads: 'Alexamenes adores his God.' They say +this drawing comes from the Palace of the Caesars, and it is considered +to be a caricature of Christ, drawn by a Roman soldier on a wall." + +"Didn't they put up images of Christ, either?" + +"No. You do not consider that they were at the height of the discussion +as to whether Christ was ugly or beautiful." + +The tall gentleman got involved in a long dissertation as to what +motives they had had, some to insist that Christ's person was of great +beauty, others to affirm that it was of terrible ugliness. + +Caesar would have liked to go on listening to what this gentleman said, +but Don Justo joined him. The Trappist was in front of two mummies, +explaining something, and he wanted Caesar to translate what he was +saying. + +Caesar did this bit of interpreting for him. The candles were beginning +to burn out and it was necessary to leave. + +The cicerone took them rapidly along a gallery at whose end there was a +stairway, and they issued into the sunlight. The monk extinguished the +taper on his stick, and began crying: + +"Now, gentlemen, do you want any scapulars, medals, chocolate?" + +Caesar looked over his companions in the expedition. The Canon +was indifferent. The old maritime Breton showed signs of profound +indignation, and his daughter, the little French mystic, had tears in +her eyes. + +"That poor little French girl, who arrived here so full of enthusiasm, +has come out of these Catacombs like a rat out of a sewer," said Caesar. + +"And why so?" asked Don Calixto. + +"Because of the things the monk said. He was really scandalous." + +"It is true," said the Canon gravely. "I never would have believed it." + +_"Roma veduta, fede perduta,"_ said Don Calixto. "And as for you, +Caesar, hasn't this visit interested you?" + +"Yes, I have been interested in trying to keep from catching cold." + + +AGRO ROMANO + +The landau that the Breton family was in took the Appian, Way, and +Caesar and Don Calixto's carriage followed behind it. + +They passed the tomb of Cecilia Metella, and were able to look ahead +along the old road, on whose sides one sees the remains of aqueducts, +which at evening-fall have a grandeur so imposing. Don Calixto and Don +Justo were discussing a question of home politics. + +On them magnificently indifferent, the broken sepulchres, the abandoned +arches invaded by grass, the vestiges of a gigantic civilization, did +not produce the least impression. + +The coachman pointed out Frascati on the slope of a mountain, Albano, +Grotta Ferrata, and Tivoli. + +Caesar felt the grandeur of the landscape; the enormous sadness of the +remnants of aqueducts, which had the colour of rusty iron, beneath a sky +of pink clouds. + +At dusk they turned back. Caesar felt a weight on his spirits. The +walls of the Baths of Caracalla looked threatening to him. Those great +towering thick walls, broken, brick-colour, burned by the sun, gave +him an impression of the strength of the past. There were no trees, no +houses near them; as if those imposing ruins precluded any life round +about. Only one humble almond-tree held out its white flowers. + +Don Calixto and the Canon continued chatting. + + + + +XXII + +SENTIMENTALITY AND ARCHEOLOGY + + +Don Calixto and the Canon went away to Spain. Caesar thought he was +wasting time in Rome and that he ought to get out, but he remained. He +kept wondering why Susanna Marchmont had left and never written him. + +Twice he asked about her at the Hotel Excelsior, and was told that she +had not returned. + +One evening at the beginning of May, when he had managed to decide to +pack up and go, he received a card from Susanna, telling him of her +arrival and inviting him to have tea at the _Ristorante del Castello dei +Cesari._ + +Caesar immediately left the hotel and took a cab, which carried him to +the top of the Aventine Hill. + +He got out at the entrance to the garden of the _Ristorante_, went +across it, and out on a large terrace. + +There were a number of Americans having tea, and in one group of them +was Susanna. + +"How late you come!" she said. + +"I have just received your card. And what did you do in Corfu? How did +things go down there?" + +"Very well indeed. It is all wonderful. And I have been in Epirus and +Albania, too." + +Susanna related her impressions of those countries, with many details, +which, surely, she had read in Baedeker. + +She was very smart, and prettier than ever. She said her husband must be +in London; she had had no news from him for more than a month. "And how +did you know I was still here?" Caesar asked her. + +"Through Kennedy. He wrote to me. He is a good friend. He talked a lot +about you in his letters." + +Caesar thought he noticed that Susanna talked with more enthusiasm than +ordinarily. Perhaps distance had produced a similar effect on her +to what wondering about her had on him. Caesar looked at her almost +passionately. + +From the terrace one could see the tragic ruins of the Palace of the +Caesars; broken arcades covered with grass, remains of walls still +standing, the openings of arches and windows, and here and there a +pointed cypress or a stone pine among the great devastated walls. + +Far away one could see the country, Frascati, and the blue mountains of +the distance. + +As it was already late, the group of Susanna's American friends decided +to return by carriage. + +"I am going to walk," said Susanna in a low tone. "Would you like to +come with me?" + +"With great pleasure." + +They took leave of the others, went down the garden road, which was +decorated on both sides with ancient statues and tablets, and issued on +the Via di Santa Prisca, a street between two dark walls, with a lamp +every once in a while. + +"What a sky!" she exclaimed. + +"It is splendid." + +It was of a blue with the lustre of mother-of-pearl; in the zenith a +stray star was imperceptibly shining; to the west floated golden and red +clouds. + +They went down the steep street, alongside a garden wall. In some +places, bunches of century plants showed their hard spikes, sharp as +daggers, over the low walls. + +There was a great silence in this coming of night. Among the foliage of +the trees they heard the piping of sparrows. From far away there came, +from time to time, the puffing of a train. + + +_DESOLATION_ + +They walked without speaking, mastered by the melancholy of their +surroundings. Now and again, a peasant, tanned by the sun, with his +little sack full of grass, came home from the fields, singing. + +Caesar and Susanna passed alongside of the Jewish cemetery, and stopped +to look in through a grill. The wall hid the burning zone of twilight; a +greenish blue reigned in the zenith. + +They went on again. A bell began to ring. + +Caesar was depressed. Susanna was silent. + +They crossed a street of new, dark houses; they passed by a little +square with a melancholy church. The street they took was named for +Saint Theodore. To the left, down the Via del Velabro, they saw an arch +with many niches on the sides of the single opening. + +A band of black seminarians passed. + +"Poor creatures!" murmured Caesar. + +"Are you very sympathetic?" said Susanna, mockingly. + +"Yes, those chaps rouse my pity." + +Now, on the right, the furious ruins of the Palatine were piled up: +brick walls, ruined arches, decrepit partitions, and above, the terrace +of a garden with a balustrade. Over the terrace, against the sky, were +the silhouettes of high cypresses almost black, of ilexes with their +dense foliage, and a large palm with arching leaves. + +From these so tragic ruins there seemed to exhale a great desolation, +beneath the deep, green sky. + +Susanna and Caesar drew near the Forum. + +In the opaque light of dusk the Forum had the air of a cemetery. Two +lighted windows were shining in the high dark wall of the Tabularium, +and sharp-toned bells were beginning to ring. + +They went up the stairway that leads to the Capitol, and on a little +terrace they stopped to look at the Forum. + +"What terrible desolation!" exclaimed Susanna. + +"All the stones look like tombs," said Caesar. "Yes, that is true," + +"What are those three high open vaults that give so strange an +impression of immense size?" asked Caesar. + +"That is what remains of Constantine's basilica." + +For a long while they gazed at that abandoned space, with its melancholy +columns and white stones. + +In a street running into the Forum, there began to shine two rows of +gaslights of a greenish colour. + +As they passed down the slope leading to the Capitol, in a little street +to the left, the Via Monte Tarpea, they saw a funeral procession ready +to start. At that moment the corpse was being brought into the street. +Several women in black were waiting by the house door with lighted +candles. + +The priest, in his white surplice and holding up his cross, gave the +order to start, and pushed to the front of the crowd; four men raised +the bier and took it on their shoulders, and the procession of women in +black, men, and children, followed behind. Bells with sharp voices began +again to sound in the air. + +"Oh, isn't it sad!" said Susanna, lifting her hand to her breast. + +They watched how the procession moved away, and then Caesar murmured, +ill-humouredly: + +"It is stupid." + +"What?" asked Susanna. + +"I say that it's stupid to take pleasure in feeling miserable. What we +are doing is absurd and unhealthy." + +Susanna burst into laughter, and when she said good-night to Caesar she +squeezed his hand energetically. + + + + +XXIII + +THE 'SCUTCHEON OF A CHURCH + + +"Susanna Marchmont," Caesar wrote to his friend Alzugaray, "is a +beautiful woman, rich, and apparently intelligent. She has given me to +understand that she feels a certain inclination for me, and if I please +her well enough, she will get a divorce and marry me. + +"I have discovered the reasons for her inclination, first in a desire to +revenge herself on her husband by marrying the brother of the woman he +has fallen in love with; secondly, in my not having made love to her, +like the majority of the men she has known. + +"Really, Susanna is a beautiful woman; but whereas other women gain +by being looked at and listened to, with her it is not so. In this +beautiful woman there is something cold, utilitarian, which she does not +succeed in hiding by her artistic effusions. Besides she has a great +deal of vanity, but stupid vanity. She has asked me if I couldn't manage +to acquire a high-sounding, decorative title in Spain. + +"If Susanna knew that in my heart I keep up her friendship only through +inertia, because I have no plans, and that her millions and her beauty +leave me cold, she would be dumfounded; I believe that perhaps she +would admire me. + +"At present we devote ourselves to walking, talking, and telling each +other our impressions. Any one would say that we intentionally play a +game of being contrary; whatsoever she finds wonderful seems worthy +of contempt to me, and vice-versa. It is strange that such absolute +disagreement can exist. This Sunday afternoon we have been taking a +long walk, half sentimental, half archeological. + +"I went to get her at her hotel; she came down, looking very smart, with +an unmarried friend, also an American and also very chic. + +"The three of us walked toward the Forum. We passed under the arch of +Constantine. A small beggar-boy preceded us, getting ahead and turning +hand-springs. I gave him some pennies. Susanna laughed. This woman, who +pays bills of thousands of pesetas to her milliner, doesn't like to give +a copper to a ragamuffin. + +"We turned off a bit from the avenue and went up on the right, toward +the Palatine. Among the ruins some women were pulling up plants and +putting them into sacks. At the end of the road, on the slope, there +were Stations of the Cross, and some boys from a school were playing, +guarded by priests with white rabbits. + +"It was impossible to go further, and we went down the hill toward the +Piazza di San Gregorio. On the open place in front of the church that is +in this square, some vagabonds were stretched out on the ground; an old +man with a long hoary beard and a pipe with a chain, two dark youths +with shocks of black hair, and a red-headed woman with silver hoops in +her ears and a baby in her arms. + +"The two young boys threw me a glance of hatred, and stared at Susanna +and her friend with extraordinary avidity. + +"What very false ideas must have been going through their minds! I might +have approached them and said politely: + +"'Do not imagine that these ladies are of different stuff from this red +woman who has the baby in her arms. They are all the same. There is no +more difference than what is caused by a little soap and some money.' + +"'Let us go in and see the church,' said Susanna. + +"'Good. Come along.' + +"The church has a flight of stone steps and two cypresses to one side. + +"We went into a court with graves in it, and stayed there a while, +reading the names of the people buried in them. Susanna's friend is a +sort of little devil with the instincts of a small boy, and she went +springing about in all the corners. + +"When we came out of the church we found the square, deserted before, +now full of people. During the time we had stayed inside, a numerous +group of tourists had formed a circle, and a gentleman was explaining in +English what the Via Appia used to be. + +"'These are the things that please you,' Susanna said to me, laughing. + +"I answered with a joke. The truth is that no matter how many +explanations I am given, an ancient Roman always seems a cardboard +figure to me, or at most a marble figure. It is not possible to imagine +how bored I used to be reading _Les Martyres_ of Chateaubriand and that +famous _Quo Vadis_. + +"From the Piazza di San Gregorio we took a steep street, the 'Via di +Santi Giovanni e Paolo,' which passes under an arch with several brick +buttresses. + +"We came out in a little square, in an angle of which there is an +ancient arcaded tower, which has tiles set into the walls, some round +and others the shape of a Greek cross. + +"The modern portico of the church has columns and a grated door, which +we found open. Over the door is a picture of Saint John and Saint Paul; +on the sides of it two shields with the mitre and the keys. On one, set +round about, are the Latin words: _Omnium rerum est vicisitudo;_ on the +other is written in Spanish: _Mi corazon arde en mucha llama._ + +"'Is it Spanish?' Susanna asked me. + +"'Yes.' + +"'What does it mean?' + +"I translated the phrase into English: 'My heart burns with a great +flame'; and Susanna repeated it several times, and begged me to write it +in her card-case. + +"Her friend skimmed some pages in Baedeker and said: + +"'It seems that the house of two saints martyred by Julian the Apostate +is preserved here.' + +"I assured them that that was an error. I happen to have been reading +just a few days ago a book about Julian the Apostate, and it turns out +that that Emperor was an admirable man, good, generous, brave, full of +virtues; but the Christians had reason for calumniating him and they +calumniated him. All Julian's persecutions of Christians are logical +repressions of people that were disturbing public order, and the phrase, +Vencisti, Galileo, is a pious fraud. Julian was a philosopher, he +loved science, hygiene, cleanliness, peace, in a world of hysterical +worshipers of corpses, who wanted to live in ignorance, filth, and +prayer. + +"But Christianity, always a religion of hallucinated persons, of +mystifiers, has never vacillated in singing the praises of parricides +like Constantine, and in calumniating the memory of great men like +Julian. + +"Susanna and her friend considered that the question of whether Julian +has been calumniated by history, or not, was of no importance. + +"The truth is that I feel the same way. + +"From the Via di Santi Giovanni e Paolo we came out into a small square +by a church, which has a little marble ship in front of its porch. We +saw that his street is named after the _Navicella._" + + +A ROYAL IDYLL + +"By the side of the church of the Navicella, we passed the Villa Mattei, +and Susanna wished to go in. What a beautiful property! What splendid +terraces those in that garden are! What laurels! What lemon-trees! What +old statues! What heavy shade of pines and live-oaks! + +"Kennedy, who has an admirable knowledge of every corner of Rome, has +told me that at the beginning of the XIX Century the Villa Mattei was +the property of Godoy. King Charles IV and his wife were in Rome, living +in the Barberini Palace, and they spent their days in the seclusion of +the Villa Mattei; and while the favourite and the Queen, who had now +become a harpy, walked in those poetical avenues, bordered with box +and laurel, the good Bourbon, now an old man, walked behind them, his +forehead ornamented like a faun's, enchanted to watch them; I don't know +whether he was playing the flute. + +"Susanna's friend laughed at the thought of the good Charles IV, with +his waistcoat and his long coat, and his satyr's excrescences, and his +rural flute; but the allusion did not find favour with Susanna, whether +because she thought of her husband's infidelities, or because she +considered, that if her father gets to be the shoe-king, she will then +have a certain spiritual relationship to the Bourbons. In the Villa +Mattei we saw an _ediculo_, which rises at the edge of a terrace, amidst +climbing plants. There, as an inscription says, Saint Philip Neri talked +to his disciples of things divine. From the terrace one can see the +Baths of Caracalla, and part of the Roman Campagna behind them. + +"We came out of the Villa Mattei and left the Piazza, della Navicella +and came down through a place where there is a wall with arches, under +which some beggars have built huts out of gasoline cans. There is an +eating-place thereabouts called the Osteria di Porta Metronia. + +"Susanna's friend consulted her book, and the result was that we found +we were in the Vale of Egeria. + +"From there we came out by a narrow road running along a wall, not a +very high one, over which green laurel branches projected. We saw an +obelisk at the end of the road, and the entablature of Saint John the +Lateran. The group of statues, reddish brown, silhouetted against the +sky, made a very strange effect. + +"We started to go down by the Via di San Sisto Vecchio, which also runs +along by a wall. At the bottom of the slope there is a mill, with a deep +race. Susanna's friend said she would enjoy bathing there. + +"We came out, at nightfall, almost opposite the Baths of Caracalla. + +"'They ought to knock these ruins down altogether,' I said. + +"'Why so?' asked Susanna. + +"'Because they appear to be standing here to demonstrate the uselessness +of human energy.' Susanna was very little interested as to whether +human energy is useful or useless. + +"I am, because my own energy forms a part of human energy, and for no +other reason. + +"We came back past the Forum, but today we did not come upon any +funerals. To demand that somebody should die every day and his corpse be +carried out at twilight to feed tourists' emotions, would, I think, be +demanding too much. + +"When we reached her hotel, Susanna let her friend go up first; and as +soon as we were alone, she looked at me expressively, placing one hand +on her breast, and said to me, in nasal Spanish: + +"_'Mi corazon arde en mucha llama.'_ + +"I don't believe it." + + + + +XXIV + +TOURIST INTERLUDE + +TRAVELLING + + +"Susanna said to me: 'I have some inclination for you, but I don't know +you well enough. If you feel the same way, come with me. Let us travel +together? I am with her, and nevertheless I am convinced that what I am +doing is a piece of stupidity. + +"We spent this Sunday morning in the train. In the country we saw men at +work with great oxen that had long twisted horns. In a swampy field some +labourers were draining the ground with great effort. From the train we +saw the island of Elba, and Capraia, and the sea as blue as indigo. + +"'Mare nostro,'_ said an elegant gentleman in a fluty voice, and +pointed out something on the horizon which he said was Corsica, and he +said that it can be seen from far away. + +"While all we useless, unoccupied persons gathered in the dining-car, +the people in the fields kept on working, bent over in the mud, draining +the marshes. + +"'What a lot of effort those poor devils have to make to keep us alive.' +I said. + +"'We are not kept alive by them,' retorted Susanna. + +"'No, we live off of other slaves, who work for us,' I answered her. +'Those out there serve to feed the officers, the effeminate priestlings, +all the people that take part in the theatrical performance of the +Vatican. Those unfortunates help to uphold the eight basilicas and the +three hundred odd churches of Rome.' + +"Susanna shrugged her shoulders and smiled." + + +CLOSE TO + +"Travelling with a woman one does not love, no matter how very pretty +she is, produces a series of disenchantments. It seems as if one kept +seeking defects and analysing them under the microscope. During these +days that I have been accompanying Susanna, I have discovered a lot of +physical and moral imperfections in her. There are moments in which she +cannot conceal an egoism and brutality which are truly disagreeable; and +besides, she is tyrannical, vain, and tries always to have her own way. + +"We have been at Siena, which is a kind of Toledo, made up of narrow +lanes. It was very hot. We were bored, especially she who has no +artistic feeling. + +"We have spent two days in Florence, a night in Bologna, another night +at Milan, and after vacillating as to whether it would be better to go +to Lake Como or to Switzerland, we have come to Geneva to spend a few +days. + +"Travelling like this in limited trains, one finds travelling more +insipid than in any other fashion. All the sleeping-cars are alike, all +the people alike, all the hotels alike. Really it is Stupid. + +"It is still more stupid travelling with a woman who attracts attention +wherever she goes. She attracts attention, that is all; she doesn't +awaken any liking. She cannot comprehend why, being a beautiful and +distinguished woman, she has nobody who cares for her disinterestedly. +She notices that all the smart young men who aim for her are simply +coming to the beautiful rich woman. + +"And she thinks they ought to be in ecstasies over her wit and over the +repertory of ready-made phrases she keeps for conversation." + + +A TIRESOME HOTEL + +"In this immense, luxurious hotel, situated two thousand odd metres +above sea-level, as the announcement-cards stuck everywhere say, more +than a hundred of us gather in the dining-room at lunch-time. The +greatest coolness, the most frozen composure reigns among us. + +"It is obvious that, thus harboured and united by chance in this hotel, +we disturb one another; a wall of prejudices and conventionalities +separates us. The English old maids read their romantic novels; the +German families talk among themselves; some Russian or other drinks +champagne while he stares with vague and inexpressive eyes; and +some swarthy man from a sultry country appears to be crushed by the +lugubrious silence. + +"Through the windows one can see Lake Leman, closed in near here by +mountains, blue like a great turquoise, ploughed by white, triangular +sails. From time to time one hears the strident noise of a steamboat's +siren and the murmur of the funicular train." + + +A MODEST FAMILY + +"To this ostentatious hotel a family of modest air came two days ago. +It was a family made up of five persons; two ladies, one of them plain, +thin, spectacled, the other plumper and short; a merry girl, smiling +and rosy, and a melancholy little girl, with a waxen face. They were +accompanied by a man with a distinguished, weary manner. + +"They are all in mourning. They are English; they treat one another with +an attractive affability. The short lady, mother of the two girls, was +pressing the man's hand and caressing it, during lunch the first day. He +kept smiling in a gentle, tired way. No doubt he was unable to stay here +long, for he did not appear that evening, and the four females were +alone in the dining-room. + +"The two ladies and the fresh, blooming girl are much preoccupied about +the pale little girl, so much so that they do not notice the interest +they arouse among the guests. All the old 'misses,' loaded with jewels, +watch the family in mourning, as if they were wondering: 'How come they +here, if their position is not so good as ours? How dare they mix among +us, not being in our class?' + +"And it is a fact; they cannot be; there is something that shows that +this family is not rich. Besides, and this is extraordinary enough, it +seems that they haven't come here to look down on others, or to give +themselves airs, but to take walks and to look at the immaculate peaks +of Mont Blanc. So one sees the two girls going out into the country +without making an elaborate toilet, carrying a book or an orange in +their hands, and coming back with bunches of flowers...." + +_TRAGEDY IN A HOTEL ROOM_ + +"This morning at lunch only one of the ladies appeared in the +dining-room. + +"'Perhaps the others have gone off on some picnic,' thought I. + +"In the evening at dinner, the tall woman with the glasses and the +larger of the two girls were at table. They didn't eat, and disquietude +was painted on their faces; the girl had flushed cheeks and swollen +eyes. + +"'What can be happening to them?' I asked myself. + +"At that juncture, in came the short lady, with two vials of medicine +in her hand, and put them on the table. By what I could hear of the +conversation, she had just come from Lausanne, where she had gone for +the doctor. The melancholy little girl, the one with the waxen face, +must be ill. + +"No doubt the family have come to Switzerland for the sake of the child, +who is probably delicate, and have made a sacrifice to do so. That +explains their modest air, and the rapid departure of the man who +brought them. + +"The three women gazed sadly at one another. What can the poor child +have? I remember nothing about her, except her hair parted in the +middle, and the pallid colour of her bloodless skin, and nevertheless it +makes me sad to think that she is sick. + +"I should like to offer myself to these women at this crisis; I should +like to say to them: 'I am a humble person, without money; but if I +could be useful to you in any way, I would do it with all my heart; and +that is more than I would do for this gang covered with brilliants.' + +"The German who eats at the next table to the family understands what is +happening, and he leaves off eating to look at them, and then looks at +me with his blue eyes. At last he shrugs his shoulders, lowers his head, +and empties a glass of wine at one gulp. + +"The three women rise and go to their rooms. One hears them coming and +going in the corridor; then a waiter takes their dinner upstairs. + +"And while the family are desolate up there, down here in the 'hall' the +'misses' keep on looking at one another contemptuously, exhibiting rings +that sparkle on their fingers, and which would keep hundreds of people +alive; and while they are weeping upstairs, down here a blond Yankee +woman, with a large blue hat, a friend of Susanna's, who flirts with a +youth from Chicago, is laughing heartily, showing a set of white teeth +in which there shines a chip of gold." + +_SUSANNA DOES NOT UNDERSTAND_ + +"I have spoken to Susanna about the poor English girl, who, they say, is +dying; and she has bidden me not to tell her sad things. She cannot bear +other people's suffering. She says she is more sensitive than others. +How very comical! + +"This fine lady, who thinks herself so witty and so sensitive, has +an inner skin like a hippopotamus; she is covered with a magnificent +egoism, which must be at least of galvanized steel. Her armour protects +her against the action of other people's miseries and pains. + +"This woman, so beautiful, is of a grotesque egotism; one understands +her husband's despising her. + +"I am leaving her with her millions and going away to Spain." + + + + + +PART TWO + + +CASTRO DURO + +I + +ARRIVAL + +_CAESAR IN ACTION_ + + +During the night Caesar Moncada and Alzugaray chatted in the train. +Alzugaray was praising this first Quixotic sally of his friend's. + +"We are going to cross the Rubicon, Caesar," he said, as he got into the +train. + +"We shall see." + +Many times Alzugaray had heard Caesar explain his plans, but he had no +great confidence in their realization. Nor did this particular moment +seem to him opportune for beginning the campaign. Everybody believed +that the Liberal Ministry was stronger than ever; people were still away +for the summer; nothing was doing. + +Nevertheless, Caesar insisted that the crisis was imminent, and that it +was the precise moment for him to enter politics. With this object he +was taking a letter from Alarcos, the leader of the Conservatives, to +Don Calixto Garcia Guerrero. + +"Your Don Calixto will be at San Sebastian or at some water-cure," said +Alzugaray, taking his seat in the train. + +"It's all the same to me. I intend to follow him until I find him," +answered Caesar. + +"And you are decided to run as a Conservative?" + +"Of course." + +"I hope you won't be sorry later." + +"Pshaw! Later one jumps into the position that suits one. On these first +rungs of political life, either you have to have great luck, or you have +to go like a grasshopper, first here, then there. That is the take-off, +and when you are there all the ambitious mediocrities unite against you +if you have any talent. Naturally, I do not intend to do anything to +exhibit mine. Spanish politics are like a pond; a strong, healthy stick +of wood goes to the bottom; a piece of bark or cork or a sheaf of straw +stays on the surface. One has to disguise oneself as a cork." + +"And later you will go on and make yourself known." + +"Naturally. Since I find myself in the vein for making comparisons, I +will say that in Spanish politics we have a case like those in the old +comedies of intrigue, where the lackeys pretend to be gentlemen. When I +am once among the gentlemen, I shall know how to prove that I am more a +master than the people surrounding me." + +"How conceited you are." + +"The confidence one feels in oneself," said Caesar ironically. + +"But have you really got it, or do you only pretend to have?" + +"What matter whether I have it or haven't it, if I behave as if I had +it?" + +"It matters a lot. It matters whether you are calm or not in the moment +of danger." + +"Calmness is the muse that inspires me. I haven't it in my thoughts, but +in active life you shall see me!" + +The two friends stretched themselves out in their first-class +compartment, and lay half asleep until dawn, when they got up again. + +The train was running rapidly across the flat country; the yellow +sunlight shone into the car; through the newly sowed fields rode men on +horseback. + +"These are not my dominions yet," said Caesar. + +"We have two more stations till Castro Duro," responded Alzugaray, +consulting the time-table. They took off their caps, put them into the +bag, Caesar put on a fresh collar, and they sat down by the window. + +"It is ugly enough, eh?" said Alzugaray. + +"Naturally," replied Caesar. "What do you want; that there should be +some of those green landscapes like in your country, which for my part +irritate me?" + + +THE CLASSIC STAGECOACH + + +They arrived at Castro Duro. In the station they saw groups of peasants. +The travellers with their baggage went out of the station. There were +two shabby coaches at the door. + +"Are you going to the Comercio?" asked one driver. + +"No, they are going to the Espana," said the other. + +"Then you two know more than we do," answered Alzugaray, "because we +don't know where to go." + +"To the Comercio!" + +"To the Espana!" + +"Whose coach is this one?" asked Caesar, pointing to the less dirty of +the two. + +"The Comercio's." + +"All right, then we are going to the Comercio." + +The coach, in spite of being the better of the two, was a rickety, +worn-out old omnibus, with its windows broken and spotted. It was drawn +by three skinny mules, full of galls. Caesar and Alzugaray got in and +waited. The coachman, with the whip around his neck, and a young man who +looked a bit like a seminarian, began to chat and smoke. + +At the end of five minutes' waiting, Caesar asked: + +"Well, aren't we going?" + +"In a moment, sir." + +The moment stretched itself out a good deal. A priest arrived, so fat +that he would have filled the vehicle all alone; then a woman from the +town with a basket, which she held on her knees; then the postman got in +with his bag; the driver closed the little window in the coach door, and +continued joking with the young man who looked a bit like a seminarian +and with one of the station men. + +"We are in a hurry," said Alzugaray. + +"We are going now, sir. All right. Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye!" answered the station man and the seminarian. + +The driver got up on his seat, cracked his whip, and the vehicle began +to move, with a noisy swaying and a trembling of all its wood and glass. +A very thick cloud of dust arose in the road. + +"Ya, ya, Coronela!" yelled the driver. "Why do you keep getting where +you oughtn't to get? Damn the mule! Montesina, I am going to give you a +couple of whacks. Get on there, Coronela! Get up, get up.... All right! +All right!... That's enough.... That's enough.... Let it alone, now! Let +it alone, now!" + +"What an amount of oratory that man is wasting," exclaimed Caesar; "he +must think that the mules are going to go better for the efforts of his +throat. It would be an advantage if he had stronger beasts, instead of +these dying ones." + +The other travellers paid no attention to his observation, and Alzugaray +said: + +"These drivers drip oratory." + +While the shabby coach was going along the highway which encircles +Castro hill, to the sound of the bells and the cracking of the whip, it +was possible to remain seated in the vehicle with comparative ease; but +on reaching the town's first steep, crooked, rough-cobbled street, the +swinging and tossing were such that the travellers kept falling one upon +another. + +The first street kept getting rapidly narrower, and as it grew narrower, +the crags in its paving were sharper and more prominent. At the highest +part of the street, in the middle, stood a two-wheeled cart blocking the +way. The coachman got down, from his seat and started a long discussion +with the carter, as to who was under obligations to make way. + +"What idiots!" exclaimed Caesar, irritated; then, calmer, he murmured, +addressing Alzugaray, "The truth is, these people don't care about doing +anything but talk." + +As the discussion between the coachman and the carter gave signs of +never ending, Caesar said: + +"Come along," and then, addressing the man with the bag, he asked him, +"Is it far from here to the inn?" + +"No; it is right here, in the house where the cafe is." THE INN + + +Sure enough, the inn was only a step away. They went into the damp, dark +entrance, up the crooked stairs, and down the corridor to the kitchen. + +"Good morning, good morning!" they shouted. + +Nobody appeared. + +"Might it be on the second floor?" asked Alzugaray. + +"Let's go see." + +They went up to the next floor, entered by a gallery of red brick, which +was falling to pieces, and called several times. An old woman, from +inside a dark bedroom where she was sweeping, bade them go down to the +dining-room, where she would bring them breakfast. + +The dining-room had balconies toward the country, and was full of sun; +the bedrooms they were taken to, on the other hand, were dark, gloomy, +and cavernous. Alzugaray requested the old woman to show them the other +vacant chambers, and chose two on the second floor, which were lighter +and airier. + +The old woman told them she hadn't wanted to take them there, because +there was no paper on the walls. + +"No doubt, in Castro, the prospect of bed-bugs is an agreeable +prospect," said Caesar. + +After he had washed and dressed, Caesar started out to find and capture +Don Calixto, and Alzugaray went to take a stroll around the town. It was +agreed that they should each explore the region in his own way. + + + + +II + +CASTRO DURO + +THE MORNING + + +In these severe old Castilian towns there is one hour of ideal peace and +serenity. That is the early morning. The cocks are still crowing, the +sound of the church bells is scattered on the air, and the sun begins to +penetrate into the streets in gusts of light. The morning is a flood of +charity that falls upon the yellowish town. + +The sky is blue, the air limpid, pure, and diaphanous; the transparent +atmosphere scarcely admits effects of perspective, and its ethereal +mass makes the outlines of the houses, of the belfries, of the eaves, +vibrate. The cold breeze plays at the cross-streets, and amuses itself +by twisting the stems of the geraniums and pinks that flame on the +balconies. Everywhere there is an odour of cistus and of burning broom, +which comes from the ovens where the bread is baked, and an odour of +lavender that comes from the house entries. + +The town yawns and awakes; some priests pass, on their way to church; +pious women come out of their houses; and market men and women begin to +arrive from the villages nearby. The bells make that _tilin-talan_ so +sad, which seems confined to these dead towns. In the main street the +shops open; a boy hangs up the dresses, the sandals, the caps, on the +facade, reaching them up with a stick. Droves of mules are seen in front +of the grain-shops; some charcoal-burners go by, selling charcoal; and +peasant women lead, by their halters, little burros loaded with jars and +pans. + +One hears all the hawksters' cries, all the clatter characteristic of +that town. The milk-vendor, the honey-vendor, the chestnut-vendor, each +has his own traditional theme. The candlestick-maker produces a sonorous +peal from two copper candlesticks, the scissors-grinder whistles on his +flute.... + +Then, at midday, hawksters and peasants disappear, the sun shines +hotter, and the afternoon is tiresome and enervating. + + +FROM THE MIRADERO + + +Castro Duro is situated on a hill of red earth. + +One goes up to the town by a dusty highway, with the remains of little +trees which one Europeanizing mayor planted, and which all died; or else +by zigzag paths, up which saddle-animals and beasts of burden usually +go. + +From the plain Castro Duro stands out in silhouette against the sky, +between two high, many-sided edifices, one of a honey yellow, old and +respectable, the church; the other white, overgrown, modern, the prison. + +These two pillars of society are conspicuous from all sides, from +whatsoever point on the plain one looks at Castro Duro. + +The town was an old important city, and has, from afar, a seigniorial +air; from nearby, on the contrary, it presents that aspect of caked dust +which all the Castilian cities in ruin have; it is wide, spread out, +formed for the most part of lanes and little squares, with low crooked +houses that have blackish, warped roofs. + +From the promenade beside the church, which is called the Miradero, one +can see the great valley that surrounds Castro, a plain without an end, +flat and empty. At the foot of the hill that supports the city, a broad +river, which formerly kissed the old walls, marks a huge S with a sand +border. + +The water of the river covers the beach in winter, and leaves it half +uncovered in summer. At intervals on the river banks grow little groves +of poplar, which are mirrored on the tranquil surface of the water. A +very long bridge of more than twenty arches crosses from one shore to +the other. + +The hill that serves as pedestal for the historic city has very +different aspects; from one side it is seen terraced into steps, formed +of small parcels of land held up by rough stone walls. On these landings +there are thickets of vines and a few almond-trees, which grow even out +of the spaces between the stones. + +On another part of the hill, called the Trenches, the whole ground is +broken by great cuttings, which in other days were no doubt used for the +defence of the city. Near the trenches are to be seen the remains of +battlemented walls, tiles, and ruins of an ancient settlement, perhaps +destroyed by the waters of the river which in time undermined its +foundations. + +From the Miradero one sees the bridge below, as from a balloon, with +men, riding horses, and carts going over it, all diminished by the +distance. Women are washing clothes and spreading them in the sun, and +in the evening horses and herds of goats are drinking at the river +brink. + +The great plain, the immense flat land, contains cultivated fields, +square, oblong, varying in colour with the seasons, from the light green +of barley to the gold of wheat and the dirty yellow of stubble. Near the +river are truck-gardens and orchards of almonds and other fruit trees. + +In the afternoon, looking from the Miradero, from the height where +Castro stands, one feels overcome by this sea of earth, by the vast +horizon, and the profound silence. The cocks toss their metallic crowing +into the air; the clock-bells mark the hours with a sad, slow clang; and +at evening the river, brilliant in its two or three fiery curves, grows +pale and turns to blue. On clear days the sunset has extraordinary +magic. The entire town floats in a sea of gold. The Collegiate church +changes from yellow to lemon colour, and at times to orange; and there +are old walls which take on, in the evening light, the colour of bread +well browned in the oven. And the sun disappears into the plain, and the +Angelus bell sounds through the immense space. + + +THE TOWN + + +Castro Duro has a great many streets, as many as an important capital. +By only circling the Square one can count the Main Street, Laurel +Street, Christ Street, Merchants' Street, Forge Street, Shoemakers' +Street, Loafing Street, Penitence Wall, and Chain Street. + +These streets are built with large brick houses and small adobe houses. +Pointed cobbles form the pavement, and leave a dirty open sewer in the +middle. + +The large houses have two granite columns on their facades, on either +side of the door, and these columns as well as the stones of the +threshold take on a violet tinge from the lees of wine the inhabitants +have the custom of putting on the sidewalks to dry. + +Many of the big houses in Castro boast a large 'scutcheon over the door, +little crazy towers with iron weather-cocks on the roof; and some of +them a huge stork's nest. + +The streets remote from the centre of town have no paving, and their +houses are low, built of adobe, and continued by yards, over whose +mud-walls appear the branches of fig-trees. + +These houses lean forward or backward, and they have worn-out balconies, +staircases which hold up through some prodigy of stability, and old +grills, crowned with a cross and embellished with big flowers of wrought +iron. + +The two principal monuments of Castro Duro are the Great Church and the +palace. + +The Great Church is Romanesque, of a colour between yellow and brown, +gilded by the sun. It stands high, at one extremity of the hill, like a +sentinel watching the valley. The solid old fabric has rows of crenels +under the roof, which shows its warlike character. + +The principal dome and the smaller ones are ribbed, like almost all the +Romanesque churches of Spain. + +The round apse exhibits ornamental half columns, divers rosettes, and a +number of raised figures, and masonic symbols. In the interior of the +church the most notable thing to be seen is the Renaissance altar-piece +and a Romanesque arch that gives entrance to the baptistery. + +The second archeological monument of the town is the ancient palace of +the Dukes of Castro Duro. + +The palace, a great structure of stone and now blackened brick, rises at +the side of the town-hall, and has, like it, an arcade on the Square. In +the central balcony there are monumental columns, and on top of them +two giants of corroded stone, with large clubs, who appear to guard the +'scutcheon; one end of the building is made longer by a square tower. + +The palace wears the noble air given to old edifices by the large spread +of wall containing windows very far apart, very small, and very much +ornamented. + +From the inscriptions on its various escutcheons one can gather that it +was erected by the Duke of Castro Duro and his wife, Dona Guiomar. + +In the rear of the palace, like a high belvedere built on the rampart, +there appears a gallery formed of ten round arches, supported on slender +pilasters. Below the gallery are the remains of a garden, with ramps and +terraces and a few old statues. The river comes almost to the foot of +the gardens. + +Today the palace belongs to Don Calixto Garcia Guerrero, Count de la +Sauceda. + +Don Calixto and his family have no necessity for the whole of this big +palace to live in, and have been content to renovate the part fronting +on the Calle Mayor. They have had new belvederes built in, and have +given over the apartments looking on the Square and the Calle del Cristo +to the Courts and the school. + +Another great building, which astonishes every one that stops over at +Castro Duro, by its size, is the Convent of la Merced. It has been half +destroyed by a fire. In the groins there remain some large Renaissance +brackets, and in one wing of the edifice, inhabited by the nuns, there +are windows with jalousies and a rather lofty tower terminating in a +weather-cock and a cross. + + +LIFE AT CASTRO + + +Castro Duro is principally a town of farmers and carriers. Its municipal +limits are very extensive; the plain surrounding it is fertile enough. +In winter there are many foggy days, and then the flat land looks like +a sea, in which hillocks and groves float like islands. Wine and +cultivated fruits constitute the principal riches of Castro. The wine is +sharp, badly made; there is one thick dark variety which always tastes +of tar, and one light variety which they reinforce with alcohol and +which they call aloque. + +Autumn is the period of greatest animation in the town; the harvest +gets stowed away, the vintage made, the sweet almonds are gathered and +shelled in the porticoes. + +Formerly in all the houses of rich and poor, the murk of the grapes +was boiled in a still and a somewhat bitter brandy thus manufactured. +Whether in consequence of the brandy, or of the unusual amount of money +about, or of both, the fact is that at that period a great passion for +gambling developed in Castro and more crimes were committed then than +during all the rest of the year. + +The industrial processes in Castro are primitive; everything is made +by hand, and the Castrian people imagine that this establishes a +superiority. In the environs of the town there are an electrical plant, +a brickyard, various mills, and lime and plaster kilns. + +The town's commerce is more extended than its industries, although no +more prosperous. In the Square and in the Calle Mayor, under the +arcades white goods are sold and woollens, and there are hat-shops +and silversmiths, one alongside the other. The shopkeepers hang their +merchandise in the arches, the saddlers and harness-makers decorate +their entrances with head-stalls and straps, and those that have no +archway put up awnings. In the Square there are continually stalls set +up for earthenware jars and pitchers and for articles in tin. + +In the outlying streets there are inns, at whose doors five or six mules +with their heads together are almost constantly to be seen; there are +crockery stores containing brooms and every kind of jug and glazed pan; +there are little shops in doorways holding big baskets full of grain; +there are dark taverns, which are also eating-houses, to which the +peasants go to eat on market days, and whose signs are strings of dried +pimentoes and cayenne peppers or an elm branch. In the written signs +there is a truly Castilian charm, chaste and serene. At the Riojano oven +one reads: "'Bred' baked for all 'commers.'" And at the Campico inn it +says: "Wine served by Furibis herself." The shops and the inns have +picturesque names too. There is the Sign of the Moor, and the Sign of +the Jew, and the Sign of the Lion, and one of the Robbers. + +The streets of Castro, especially those near the centre, where the crowd +is greater, are dirty and ill-smelling in summer. Clouds of flies hover +about and settle on the pairs of blissfully sleeping oxen; the sun +pours down his blinding brilliance; not a soul passes, and only a few +greyhounds, white and black, elegant and sad, rove about the streets... + +In all seasons, at twilight, a few young gentlemen promenade in the +Square. At nine at night in the winter, and at ten in summer, begins the +reign of the watchmen with their dramatic and lamentable cry. + +* * * * * + +Alzugaray gave Caesar these details by degrees, while they were both +seated in the hotel getting ready to dine. + +"And the type? The ethnic type? What is it, according to you?" asked +Caesar. + +"A type rather thin than fat, supple, with an aquiline nose, black +eyes..." + +"Yes, the Iberian type," said Caesar, "that is how it struck me too. +Tall, supple, dolichocephalic... It seems to me one can try to put +something through in this town..." + + + + +III + +CAESAR'S LABOURS + +FIRST STEPS + + +"And what have you been doing all day? Tell me." + +"I think, my dear Alzugaray," said Caesar, "that I can say, like my +namesake Julius: 'Veni, vidi, vice.'" + +"The devil! The first day?" + +"Yes." + +"Show me. What happened?" + +"I left the house and entered the cafe downstairs. There was no one +there but a small boy, from whom I ordered a bottle of beer and asked if +there was a newspaper published here. He told me yes, the _Castro Mail_, +an independent weekly. I bade him fetch me a copy, even an old one, and +he brought me these two. I gave them a glance, and then, as if it didn't +interest me much, I questioned the lad about Don Calixto. + +"The first impression I obtained was that Don Calixto is the most +influential person in the town; the second, that besides him, either +with him or against him, there is a Senor Don Platon Peribanez, almost +as influential as Don Calixto. Afterwards I read the two numbers of the +Castro periodical attentively, and from this reading I gathered that +there is a somewhat hazy question here about an Asylum, where it +seems some irregularities have been committed. There is a Republican +book-dealer, who is a member of the Council, and on whom the Workmen's +Club depends, and he has asked for information as to the facts from the +Municipality, and the followers of Don Calixto and of Don Platon oppose +this suggestion as an attack on the good-birth, the honour, and the +reputation of such respectable personages. + +"Having verified these pieces of news, which are of interest for me, I +packed off to church and heard the whole eleven o'clock mass." + +"Mighty good! You are quite a man." + +"Mass ended, I went over to the Baptistery arch and stood there +examining it, as if I felt the most terrible symptoms of enthusiasm for +carved stone. Afterwards I went into the big chapel, which serves also +as a pantheon for the Dukes of Castro Duro, whose tombs you find in +the side niches of the presbytery. These niches are decorated with an +efflorescence of Gothic, which is most gay and pretty, and among all +this stone filigree you see the recumbent statues of a number of knights +and one bishop, who to judge by his sword must have been a warrior too. + +"Nobody remained in the church; the priest, a nice old man, fixed his +eyes on me and asked me what I thought of the arch. And having prepared +my lesson, I talked about the Romanesque of the XII and XIII Centuries +like a professor, and then he took me into the sacristy and showed me +two paintings on wood which I told him were XV Century. + +"'So they say,' the priest agreed. 'Do you think they are Italian or +German?' + +"'Italian certainly, North Italian.' I might as well have said South +German, but I had to decide for something. + +"'And they must be worth...? he then asked me with eagerness. + +"'My dear man; according,' I told him. 'A dealer would offer you a +hundred or two hundred pesetas apiece. In London or New York, well +placed, they might be worth twenty or thirty thousand francs.' + +"The 'pater' shot fire out of his eyes. + +"'And what would one have to do about it?' he asked me. + +"'My dear man, I think one would have to take some good photographs and +send them to various trades-people and to the museums in the United +States.' + +"'Would it be necessary to write in English?' + +"'Yes, it would be the most practical thing.' "'I don't think there is +anybody here that knows how....' + +"'I would do it, with great pleasure.' + +"'But are you going to be here for some time?' + +"'Yes, it is probable.' + +"He asked me what I came to Castro Duro for, and I told him that I had +no other object than to visit Don Calixto Garcia Guerrero. + +"Astonishment on the priest's face. + +"'You know him?' + +"'Yes, I met him in Rome.' + +"'Do you know where he lives?' + +"'No.' + +"'Then I will take you.' + +"The priest and I went out into the street. He wanted to give me the +sidewalk, and I opposed that as if it were a crime. He told me he was +more accustomed than I to walking on the cobble-stones; and finally, he +on the sidewalk and I in the gutter, we arrived at Don Calixto's house." + +* * * * * + +"Was he at home?" asked Alzugaray. + +"Yes," said Caesar. "By the way, on the road there we bowed to the +present Deputy to the Cortes, he who will be my opponent in the +approaching election, Senor Garcia Padilla." + +"Dear man! What a coincidence! What sort is he?" + +"He is tall, with a reddish aquiline nose, a greyish moustache, full of +cosmetic, a poor type." + +"He is a Liberal?" + +"Yes, he is a Liberal, because Don Calixto is a Conservative. In his +heart, nothing." + +"Good. Go on." + +_DON CALIXTO AT HOME_ + +"As I was saying, Don Calixto was at home, in a large room on the ground +floor, which serves as his office. Don Calixto is a tall, supple man, +with the blackest of hair which is beginning to turn white on the +temples, and a white moustache. He is at the romantic age of illusions, +of hopes...." "How old is he?" asked Alzugaray. + +"He isn't more than fifty-four," Caesar replied, sarcastically. "Don +Calixto dresses in black, very fastidiously, and the effect is smart, +but smacks of the notary. No matter what pains he takes to appear +graceful and easy in manner, he doesn't achieve the result; he has the +inbred humility of one who has taken orders in a shop, either as a lad +or as a man. + +"Don Calixto received me with great amiability, but with a certain air +of reserve, as if to say: 'In Rome I was a merry comrade to you, here I +am a personage.' We chatted about a lot of things, and before he could +ask me what I wanted, I pulled out the letter and handed it to him. The +old man put on his glasses, read attentively, and said: + +"'Very good, very good; we will discuss it later.' + +"The priest of course thought that he was in the way, and he left. + +"When we were alone, Don Calixto said: + +"'All right, Caesar, I am happy to see you. I see that you remember our +conversation in Rome. You must have lunch with me and my family.' + +"'With great pleasure.' + +"'I'll go and tell them to put on another place.' + +"Don Calixto went out and left me alone. For a while I studied the +boss's office. On the wall, diplomas, appointments, in looking-glass +frames; a genealogical tree, probably drawn day before yesterday; in a +book-case, legal books... + +"Don Calixto came back; he asked me if I was tired, and I told him no, +and when we had crossed the whole width of the house, which is huge, he +showed me the garden. My boy, what a wonderful spot! It hangs over the +river and it is a marvel. The highest part, which is the part they keep +up, isn't worth much; it is in lamentable style; just imagine, there is +a fountain which is a tin negro that spurts out water from all parts. + +"However, the old part of the garden, the lower part, is lovely. There +is a big tower standing guard over the river, now converted into a +belvedere, with pomegranates, rose-bushes, and climbing plants all +around it, and above all, there is an oleander that is a marvel...; it +looks like a fire-work castle or a shower of flowers." + +* * * * * + +"Leave that point," said Alzugaray. "You are talking like a poor +disciple of Ruskin's." + +"You are right. But when you see those gardens, you will be +enthusiastic, too." + +"Get ahead." + +* * * * * + + + + +THE POLITICAL POWERS OF CASTRO + +"During our promenade Don Calixto talked to me of the immense good he +has done for the town and of the ingratitude he constantly receives for +it. + +"While I listened, I recalled a little periodical in Madrid which had no +other object than to furnish bombs at reasonable prices, and which said, +speaking of a manufacturer in Catalonia: 'Senor So-and-so is the most +powerful boss in the province of Tarragona, and even at that there are +those who dispute his bossdom.' + +"Don Calixto is astonished that when he has done the Castrians the +honour to make them loans at eighty or ninety percent, they are not fond +of him. After the garden we saw the house; I won't tell you anything +about it, I don't want you to accuse me again of being a Ruskinian. + +"When we reached the dining-room Don Calixto said: 'I am going to +present you to my family.' + +"Thereupon, entrance, ceremonies, bows on my part, smiles ... _toute +la lyre_. Don Calixto's wife is an insignificant fat woman; the two +daughters insipid, ungainly, not at all pretty; and with them was a +little girl of about fifteen or sixteen, a niece of Don Calixto's, a +veritable little devil, named Amparo. This Amparo is a tiny, flat-faced +creature, with black eyes, and extraordinarily vivacious and +mischievous. During dinner I succeeded in irritating the child. + +"I talked gravely with Don Calixto and his wife and daughters about +Madrid, about the theatrical companies that come to this town, about +their acquaintances at the Capital. + +"The child interrupted us, bringing us the cat and putting a little bow +on him, and then making him walk on the key-board of the piano. + +"At half-past one we went to the dining-room. Dinner was kilometres +long; and the conversation turned on Rome and Paris. Don Calixto drank +more and more, I, too; and at the end of the meal there was a bit of +toasting, from which my political intentions were made manifest. + +"The elder daughter, whose name is Adela, asked me if I liked music. I +told her yes, almost closing my eyes, as if deliriously, and we went +into the drawing-room. Without paying attention, I listened, during +the horrors of digestion, to a number of sonatas, now and then saying: +'Magnificent! How wonderful that is!' + +"The father was enchanted, the mother enchanted, the sister likewise; +the little girl was the one who stared at me with questioning black +eyes. She must have been thinking: 'What species of bird is this?' I +believe the damned child realized that I was acting a comedy. + +"About four the ladies and I went out into the garden. Don Calixto has +the habit of taking an afternoon nap, and he left us. I succeeded in +bringing myself to, in the open air. Don Calixto's wife showed me over +an abandoned part of the house, in which there is an old kitchen as big +as a cathedral, with a stone chimney like a high altar, with the arms +of the Dukes of Castro. We chatted, I was very pleasant to the mother, +courteous to the daughters, and coldly indifferent with the little +niece. I was bored, after having exhausted all subjects of conversation, +when Don Calixto reappeared and carried me off to his office. + +"The conference was important; he explained the situation of the +Conservative forces of the district to me. These forces are represented, +principally, by three men: Don Calixto, a Senor Don Platon, and a friar. +Don Calixto represents the modern Conservative tendency and is, let us +say, the Canovas of the district; with him are the rich members of the +Casino, the superior judge, the doctors, the great proprietors, etc. +Don Platon Peribanez, a silversmith in the Calle Mayor, represents the +middle-class Conservatives; his people are less showy, but more in +earnest and better disciplined; this Platonian or Platonic party is made +up of chandlers, silversmiths, small merchants, and the poor priests. +The friar, who represents the third Conservative nucleus, is Father +Martin Lafuerza. Father Martin is prior of the Franciscan monastery, +which was established here after the Order was expelled from Filinas. + +"Father Martin is an Ultramontanist up to the eyes. He directs priests, +friars, nuns, sisters, and is the absolute master of a town nearby +called Cidones, where the women are very pious. + +"Despite their piety, the reputation of those ladies cannot be very +good, because there is a proverb, certainly not very gallant: 'Don't get +either a wife or a mule at Cidones; neither a wife nor a mule nor a pig +at Grinon.' + +"Opposed to these three Conservative nuclei are the friends of the +present Deputy, who amount to no more than the official element, which +is always on the ruling side, and a small guerilla band that meets in +the Workingmen's Casino, and is composed principally of a Republican +bookseller, an apothecary who invents explosives, also Republican, an +anarchist doctor, a free-thinking weaver, and an innkeeper whom they +call Furibis, who is also a smuggler and a man with hair on his chest." + + + +_DON PLATON PERIBANEZ_ + +"After having given me these data, Don Calixto told me that by counting +on Senor Peribanez, the election was almost sure; and since the quicker +things go the better, he proposed that we should go to see him, and I +immediately agreed. + +"Don Platon Peribanez has a silver-shop fitted up in the old style; a +small show-window, full of rattles, Moorish anklets, necklaces, little +crosses, et cetera; a narrow, dark shop, then a long passage, and at the +rear, a workroom with a window on a court. + +"As his assistant in the silver-shop, Don Platon has a boy who is a +nonsuch. I believe that if you took him to London and exhibited him, +saying beforehand: 'Bear in mind, gentlemen, that this is not a monkey +or an anthropoid, but a man,' you would rake in a mad amount of pounds +sterling. + +"We went into Don Platon's little shop, we asked the young macaco for +him, and we passed on into the workshop. + +"Senor Peribanez is a man of medium stature, dressed in black, with a +trimmed white beard, grey eyes, and modest manners. He speaks coldly, +thinks closely of what he is saying; he has a monotonous, slow voice, +and nothing escapes him. + +"Don Calixto presented me to him; the silversmith gave me his hand as if +with a certain repugnance, and the boss explained who I was and what I +was after. + +"Don Platon said that he could not reply categorically without +consulting with his friends and with Father Martin. The Father has other +candidates; one the Duke of Castro himself; and the other a rich farmer +of the town. + +"The Duke of Castro presents no other drawback than that he has been +arrested in Paris for an insignificant swindle he has committed; but +it seems that a rich Cuban wants to get him out of his difficulties on +condition that he will marry his daughter. + +"If he comes out of jail and gets married, then they will nominate him +as Deputy from here. + +"I said to Don Platon, in case the worthy Duke does not come out of +jail, would he have difficulties over my being his candidate. He replied +that I am very young, and after many circumlocutions he said flatly that +he doesn't know if I would be accepted or not as a candidate by his +followers; but in case I were, the conditions precedent would be: first, +that I would not interfere in any way in the affairs of the district, +which would be ventilated in the town, as previously; secondly, that I +should bear the costs of the election, which would amount approximately +to some ten thousand pesetas. + +"Don Calixto looked at me questioningly, and I smiled in a way to make +it understood that I agreed, and after extracting a promise from Don +Platon that he will give us a definite answer this week, we took leave +of him and went to the Casino. + +"There I was introduced to the judge, an Andalusian who has a spotless +reputation for veniality, and to the mayor, who is a rich farmer; and +the most important persons of the town being thus gathered at one table, +we chatted about politics, women, and gambling. + +"I told them a number of tales; I told them that I once lost ten +thousand dollars at Monte Carlo, playing with two Russian princes and a +Yankee millionairess; I talked to them about the mysteries and crimes of +gambling houses and of those great centres of pleasure, and I left them +speechless. At half-past nine, with a terrible headache, I came back +here. I think I have not lost a day, eh?" + +"No! The devil! What speed!" exclaimed Alzugaray. + +"But you are not eating any supper. Don't you intend to take anything?" + +"No. I am going to see if I can sleep. Listen, day after tomorrow we are +both invited to dine at Don Calixto's." + +"Me, too?" + +"Yes; I told them that you are a rich tourist, and they want to know +you." + +"And what am I to do there?" + +"You can study these people, as an entomologist studies insects. Listen, +it wouldn't do any harm if you took a walk to that town near here, named +Cidones, to see if you can find out what sort of bird this Father Martin +is." + +"All right." + +"And if you don't mind, go into that Republican bookseller's shop, under +any pretext, and talk to him." + +"I will do so." + +"Then, till tomorrow!" + +"You are going now?" + +"Yes." + +"Goodnight, then." + +Caesar left his room and marched off to sleep. + + + + +IV + +THE BOOKSELLER AND THE ANARCHISTS + + +The following day, very early in the morning, Alzugaray went to a +livery-stable which they had directed him to at the hotel, and asked to +hire a horse. They brought him a large, old one; he mounted, and crossed +the town more slowly than if he had been on foot, and set out for +Cidones. + +On reaching that town, he left the horse at a blacksmith's and went up +through the narrow lanes of Cidones, which are horribly long, dark, and +steep. + +Then he ascended to la Pena, the rock on which the Franciscan monastery +stands; but was unable to obtain any fresh information about Father +Martin and his friars. The people with whom he talked were not disposed +to unbosom themselves, and he preferred not to insist, so as not to be +suspected. + +Afterwards he went down to Cidones again and returned to Castro Duro. +Caesar was still in bed. Alzugaray went into his room. + +"Don't you intend to get up?" he asked him. + +"No." + +"Don't you intend to eat, either?" + +"Neither." + +"Are you sick?" + +"No." + +"What is the matter with you? Laziness?" + +"Something like that." + +Alzugaray ate alone, and after he had had coffee, he directed his steps +to the bookstore of the Republican councilman, of whom Caesar had spoken +to him. He found it in a corner of the Square; and it was at the same +time a stationer's shop and a newsdealer's. Behind the counter were an +old man and a lad. + +Alzugaray went in. He bought various Madrid periodicals from the lad, +and then addressing the old man, asked him: + +"Haven't you some sort of a map of the province, or of the neighbourhood +of Castro Duro?" + +"No, sir, there isn't one." + +"Nor a guidebook, perhaps?" + +"Nor that either. At the townhall we have a map of the town...." + +"Only of the part built up?" + +"Yes." + +"Then it would do me no good." + +"You want a map for making excursions, eh?" + +"That's it. Yes." + +"Well, there is none. We are very much behind the times." + +"Yes, that's true. It wouldn't cost very much, and it would be useful +for ever, both to the people here and to strangers." + +"Just tell that to our town government!" exclaimed the old bookseller. +"Whatever is not for the advantage of the rich and the clerical element, +there is no hope of." + +"Those gentlemen have a great deal of influence here?" asked Alzugaray. + +"Uf! Enormous. More every day." + +"But there don't appear to be many convents." + +"No, there are not many convents; but there is one that counts for a +hundred, and that is the one at Cidones." + +"Why is that?" + +"Because it has a wild beast for a prior. Father Martin Lafuerza. He is +famous all through this region. And he is a man of talent, there's no +denying it, but despotic and exigent. He is into everything, catechizes +the women, dominates the men. There is no way to fight against him. Here +am I with this bookshop, and I have my pension as a lieutenant, which +gives me enough to live very meanly, and with what little I get out of +the periodicals I scrape along. Besides, I am a Republican and very +liberal, and I like propaganda. If I didn't, I should have left all this +long ago, because they have waged war to the death on me, an infamous +sort of war which a person that lives in Madrid cannot understand; +calumnies that come from no one knows where, atrocious accusations, +everything...." + +Alzugaray stared at the bookseller's grey eyes, which were +extraordinarily bright. The old man was tall, stooped, grizzled, with a +prominent nose and a beard trimmed to a point. + +"But you have stuck firmly to your post," said Alzugaray. + +"Having been a soldier must do something for a man," replied the +bookseller. "He learns not to draw back in the face of danger. And this +is my life. Now I am a councillor and I work at the town hall as much as +I can, even though I know I shall accomplish nothing. Grafting goes on +before my face, I know it exists, and yet it is impossible to find it. +Six months ago I informed the judge of irregularities committed in a +Sisters' Asylum, things I had proof of.... The judge laid my information +on the table, and things went on as if nothing had happened." + +"Spain is in a bad way. It is a pity!" exclaimed Alzugaray. + +"You people in Madrid, and I don't say this to irritate you, do not +understand what goes on in the small towns." + +"My dear man, I have never taken any part in political affairs." + +"Well, I think that everybody ought to take part in politics, because it +is for the general interest." + +At this moment two persons entered the bookshop. Alzugaray was going to +leave, but the bookseller said to him: + +"If you have nothing to do, sit down for a while." + +Alzugaray sat down and examined the new arrivals. One of them was a +skinny man, with bushy hair and whiskers; the other was a smooth-shaven +party, short, cross-eyed, dressed in copper-coloured cloth edged with +broad black braid. + +"_The Rebel_ hasn't come?" asked the whiskered one. + +"No," replied the bookseller. "It didn't come out this week." + +"They must have reported it," said the whiskered one. "Yes, probably." + +"Has the doctor been in?" the shaven, little man with the black braid +asked in his turn. + +"No." + +"All right. Let's go see if we can find him in the club. Salutations!" + +"Good-bye." + +"Who are those rascals?" asked Alzugaray, when they had gone out. + +"They are two anarchists that we have here, who accuse me of being a +bourgeois ... ha ... ha.... The shaven one is the son of the landlady of +an inn who is called Furibis, and they call him that too. He used to be +a Federalist. They call the other one 'Whiskers,' and he came here from +Linares, not long ago." + +"What do they do?" + +"Nothing. They sit in the club chatting, and nowadays the doctor we have +here runs with them, Dr. Ortigosa, who is half mad. He will be in soon. +Then you will see a type. He is a very bad-tempered man, and is always +looking for an excuse to quarrel. But above all, he is an enemy of +religion. He never says Good-bye, but Salutations or Farewell. In +the same way, he doesn't say Holy Week, but Clerical Week. His great +pleasure is to find a temperament of a fibre like his own; then his eyes +flash and he begins to swear. And if he is hit, he stands for it." + +"He is an anarchist, too?" + +"How do I know? He doesn't know himself. Formerly, for four or five +months, he got out a weekly paper named _The Protest_, and sometimes +he wrote about the canalization of the river, and again about the +inhabitants of Mars." + +The bookseller and Alzugaray chatted about many other things, and after +some while the bookseller said: + +"Here is Dr. Ortigosa. He is coming in." + +The door opened and a slim individual appeared, worn and sickly, with a +black beard and spectacles. His necktie was crooked, his suit dirty, and +he had his hat in his hand. He stared impertinently at Alzugaray, cast +a glance at a newspaper, and set to shouting and talking ill of +everything. + +"This is a town full of dumb beasts," he said from time to time, with +the energy of exasperation. + +Then, supposing Alzugaray to come from Madrid, he started to speak ill +of the Madrilenos. + +"They are a collection of fools," he said roundly, various times. +"They know nothing, they understand nothing, and still they talk +authoritatively about everything." + +Alzugaray put up with the downpour as if it had no reference to him, +looking over a newspaper; and when the doctor was in the thick of his +discourse, Alzugaray got up, shook hands with the bookseller, thanked +him, and left the shop. + +The doctor looked at him over his glasses with fury, and began to walk +up and down in the bookstore. + +Alzugaray went to the hotel, arranging in his memory the data collected. + +Caesar was feeling well, and the two of them talked of the bookseller +and his friends and of Father Martin Lafuerza. + +"I am going to jot down all these points," said Caesar. "It wouldn't be +a bad idea for you to go on cultivating the bookseller." + +"I am going to." + +"Tomorrow, you know," said Caesar. "Grand dinner at Don Calixto's. The +practical manoeuvres begin." + +"Very good." + + + + +V + +THE BANQUET + +THE GUESTS + + +The table had been set in that wonderful gallery of the ancient palace +of the Dukes of Castro Duro, which looked out over the garden. The early +autumn weather was of enchanting softness and sweetness. + +Caesar and Alzugaray were very smart and elegant, with creases in their +trousers: Caesar dressed in black, with the ceremonious aspect +that suits a grave man; Alzugaray in a light suit with a coloured +handkerchief in his breast pocket. + +"I think we are 'gentlemen' today," said Caesar. + +"It seems so to me." + +They entered the house and were ushered into the drawing-room. The +majority of the guests were already there; the proper introductions +and bows took place. Caesar stayed in the group of men, who remained +standing, and Alzugaray went over to enter the sphere of Don Calixto's +wife and the judge's wife. + +The judge, from the first moment, treated Caesar like a man of +importance, and began to call him Don Caesar every moment, and to find +everything he said, good. + +In the ladies' group there was an old priest, a tall, big, deaf man, a +great friend of the family, named Don Ramon. + +The judge's wife told Alzugaray that this Don Ramon was a simpleton. + +He was the pastor of a very rich hermitage nearby, the hermitage of la +Vega, and he had spent all the money he had got by an inheritance, in +fixing up the church. + +The poor man was childlike and sweet. He said various times that he had +many cloaks for the Virgin in the sacristy of his church, and that he +wished they could be given to poor parishes, because two or three were +enough in his. + + +AMPARITO + + +While they were talking an automobile horn was heard, and a little later +Don Calixto's niece entered the drawing-room. + +This was Amparito, the flat-faced girl with black eyes, of whom Caesar +had spoken to Alzugaray. Her father accompanied her. + +The priest patted the girl's cheeks. + +Her father was a clumsy man, red, sunburned, with the face of a +contractor or a miner. + +The girl took off her cap and the veil she wore in the automobile, and +seated herself between Don Calixto's daughters. Alzugaray looked her +over. Amparito really was attractive; she had a short nose, bright black +eyes, red lips too thick, white teeth, and smooth cheeks. She wore her +hair down, in ringlets; but in spite of her infantile get-up, one saw +that she was already a woman. + +"Caesar is right; this is quite a lively girl," murmured Alzugaray. + +The mayor's son now arrived, and his sister. He was an insignificant +little gentleman, mild and courteous; he had studied law at Salamanca, +and it seemed that he had certain intentions about Don Calixto's second +daughter. + +All the guests being assembled, the master of the house said that, since +nobody was missing and it was time, they might pass into the gallery, +where the table was set. + +At one end the lady of the house seated herself, having the priest on +one side and the judge on the other; at the other end, Don Calixto, +between the judge's wife and the mayor's daughter. Caesar had a seat +assigned between Don Calixto's elder daughter and Amparito, and +Alzugaray one between the second daughter and the judge's girl. + +A few moments before they sat down, Amparito went running out of +the gallery into the garden. "Where has that child gone?" asked Don +Calixto's wife. + +"Something or other has occurred to her," said Amparito's father, +laughing. + +The girl reappeared a little later with a number of yellow and red +chrysanthemums in her hand. + +She gave red ones to the mayor's daughter and to her cousins, who were +all three brunettes, and a yellow one to the judge's daughter, who was +blond. Then she proceeded to the men. + +"This one is for you," to the mayor's son; "this one for you," and she +gave Alzugaray a yellow one; "this one for you," and she gave Caesar +a red one; "and this one for me," and she put a similar flower in her +bosom. + +"And the rest of us?" asked Don Calixto. + +"I don't give you chrysanthemums, because your wives would be jealous," +replied Amparito. + +"Man, man!" exclaimed the judge; "how does it strike you, Don Calixto? +That these little girls know the human heart pretty well?" + +"These children do not know how to appreciate our merits," said Don +Calixto. + +"Oh, yes; your merits are for your wives," replied Amparito. + +"I must inform you that my friend Caesar is married, too," said +Alzugaray, laughing. + +"Pshaw!" she exclaimed, smiling and showing her white, strong teeth. "He +hasn't the face of a married man." + +"Yes, he has got the face of a married man. Look at him hard." + +"Very well; as his wife isn't here, she won't quarrel with me." + +Alzugaray examined this girl. She had great vivacity; any idea that +occurred to her was reflected in her face in a manner so lively and +charming, that she was an interesting spectacle to watch. + +At first the conversation was of a languid and weary character; Don +Calixto, the judge, and Caesar started in to exchange political +reflexions of crass vulgarity. Caesar was gallantly attentive to the +wants of Don Calixto's elder daughter, and less gallantly so to his +other neighbour Amparito; the mayor's son, despite the fact that his +official mission was to court one of Don Calixto's girls, looked more at +Amparito than at his intended, and Alzugaray listened smilingly to the +young person's sallies. + +Toward the middle of the meal the conversation grew brisker; the judge +recounted, with much art, a mysterious crime that had occurred in a town +in Andalusia among farming people, and he succeeded in keeping them all +hanging to his lips. + +At the end of the recital, the conversation became general; the younger +element talked together, and Caesar made comments about what the judge +had told them, and defended the most immoral and absurd conclusions, as +though they were Conservative ideas. + +Caesar's observations were discussed by the men, and the judge and Don +Calixto agreed that Caesar was a man of real talent, who would play a +great role in Congress. + +"Please give me a little wine," said Amparito, holding her glass to +Alzugaray; "your friend pays no attention to me; I have asked him for +some wine twice, and nothing doing." + +Caesar acted as if he hadn't heard and kept on talking; + +Amparito took the glass, wet her lips in it, and looked at Alzugaray +maliciously. + +After eating and having coffee, as the two married ladies and the girls +were inert from so long a meal, they arose, and Alzugaray, the mayor's +son, and Amparito's father followed them. Don Calixto, the judge, and +Caesar remained at table. The priest had gone to sleep. + +A bottle of chartreuse was brought, and they started in drinking and +smoking. + +Caesar's throat grew dry and he became nauseated from drinking, smoking, +and talking. + +At five the judge took his leave, because he had to glance in at court; +Don Calixto wanted to take his nap, and after he had escorted Caesar to +the garden, he went away. The two married ladies were alone, because +the young people had gone with Amparito's father on an excursion to the +Devil's Threshold, a defile where the river flows between some red +precipitous rocks full of clefts. + +Caesar joined the two ladies, and kept up a monotonous, dreary +conversation about the ways of the great city. + +At twilight all the excursionists came back from their jaunt. One of the +young ladies played something very noisy on the piano, and the judge's +daughter was besought to recite one of Campoamor's poems. + +"It is a very pretty thing," said the judge's wife, "a girl who laments +because her lover abandons her." + +"Given the customs of Spain, as they are, the girl would be in a house +of prostitution," said Caesar in a low tone, ironically. + +"Shut up," replied Alzugaray. + +The girl recited the poem, and Caesar asked Alzugaray sarcastically if +those verses were by the girl's father, because they sounded to him like +the verses of a notary or a judge of the Court of First Instance. + +Then somebody suggested that they should have supper there. + +Caesar noticed that this plan did not appeal to the mistress of the +house, and he said: + +"One should be moderate in all things. I am going home to bed." + +After this somewhat pedantic phrase, which to Don Calixto seemed a +pearl, Caesar took leave of his new acquaintances with a great deal of +ceremony and coolness. Alzugaray said he would remain a while longer. + +When Caesar was bowing to Amparito, she asked him jokingly: + +"Is it your wife that keeps you in such good habits?" + +"My wife!" exclaimed Caesar, surprised. + +"Didn't your friend say..." + +"Ah! Yes, it is she who makes me have such good habits." + +This said, he left the drawing-room and went quickly down the stairs. +The cool night air made him shiver, and he went with a heavy, aching +head to his hotel, and got to bed. He slept very profoundly, but not +for more than an hour, and woke up sweaty and thirsty. His headache was +gone. It was not yet past eleven. He lighted the light, and sitting +up in bed, set to thinking over the probabilities of success in his +undertaking. + +Meanwhile he stared at the red chrysanthemum which was in the +button-hole of his coat, and remembered Amparito. + +"That child is a prodigy of coquetry and bad bringing-up," he thought +with vexation; "these emancipated small town young ladies are more +unattractive than any others. I prefer Don Calixto's daughter, who at +least is naively and unobjectionably stupid. But this other one is +unsupportable." + +Without knowing why, he felt more antipathy for the girl than was +natural under the circumstances. He did not like to admit it to himself; +but he felt the hostility which is produced in strong, self-willed +characters by the presence of another person with a strong character +proposing to exert itself. + + +THE TWO FRIENDS' COMMENTS + + +Caesar was thinking over the details of the visit, when Alzugaray came +home, and seeing a light in Caesar's room, went in there. Alzugaray was +quite lively. The two friends passed the persons met that day in ironic +review, and in general they were agreed about everything, except about +valuing Amparito's character. + +Caesar found her distasteful, pert and impertinent; to his friend, on +the contrary, she had seemed very attractive, very amiable and very +clever. + +"To me," said Caesar, "she appears one of these small town lasses who +have a flirtation with a student, then with a captain, and finally +marry some rich brute, and get fat, and turn into old sows, and grow +moustaches." + +"In that I think you are fundamentally unjust," said Alzugaray. +"Amparito is not a small town lass, for she lives in Madrid almost all +year. Besides, that makes no difference; what I have not observed is her +committing any folly or impertinence." "Dear man, it all depends on +how you look at it. To me her conduct seemed bad, to you it seems all +right." + +"You are an extremist, for I can assure you that you were actually rude +to her." + +"Actually rude, I don't think; but I admit that I was cool and not very +amiable." + +"And why were you?" + +"First, because it is politic of me, since Don Calixto's family do not +care for Amparito; and secondly, because the little creature didn't +please me, either." + +"And why didn't she please you? For no reason at all?" + +"I am not partial to the platyrrhine races." + +"What nonsense! And you wish to look at things clearly! A man that +judges people by their noses!" + +"It seems to you little to go on? A brunette girl, brachicephalic and +rather platyrrhine.... There is no more to say." + +"And if she had been blond, dolichocephalic, and long-nosed, she would +have seemed all right to you." + +"Her ethnic type would have seemed all right." + +"Let's not discuss it. What's the use? But I feel that you are arbitrary +to an extreme." + +"If she knew of our discussion, the young thing couldn't complain, +because if she has had a systematic detractor in me, she has found an +enthusiastic defender in you." + +"Yes, dear man; it is only at such long intervals that I see a person +with ingenuousness and enthusiasm, that when I do meet one, I get a real +joy from it." + +"You are a sentimentalist." + +"That's true; and you have become an inquisitor." + +"Most certainly. I believe we agree on that and on all the rest." + +"I think so. All right. Good-bye!" said Alzugaray, ill-humouredly. + +"Salutations!" replied Caesar. + + + + +VI + +UNCLE CHINAMAN + +CIDONES + + +Caesar impatiently awaited Senor Peribanez's reply, so that he might +return to Madrid. He was fed up with Don Calixto's conversation and his +wife's, and with the familiarity they had established with him. + +Alzugaray, on the other hand, was entertained and content. Amparito's +father showed a great liking for him and took him everywhere in his +automobile. + +Caesar, in order to satisfy his requirements for isolation, had begun to +get up very early and take walks on the highway. He almost always walked +too far, and was done up for the whole day, and at first he slept badly +at night. + +He wanted to see, one by one, the parts of his future realm, the scene +where his initiative was to bear seed and his plans to be realized. + +A lot of ideas occurred to him: to build a bridge here, to take +advantage there of the fall of the river and establish a big electric +plant for industrial purposes. He would have liked to change everything +he saw, in an instant. + +To think of these sleeping forces irritated him: the waterfall, lost +without leaving its energy anywhere; the ravine, which might be +transformed into an irrigation reservoir; the river, which was flowing +gently without fertilizing the fields; the land around the hermitage, +which might have been converted into a park, with a bright, gay +schoolhouse; all these things that could be done and were not done, +seemed to him more real than the people with whom he talked and lived. + +One morning Caesar walked to Cidones; the sun shone strongly on the +highway, and he reached the town choked and thirsty. + +The streets of Cidones were so narrow, so cold and damp, that Caesar +shivered on entering the first one, and he turned back, and instead of +going inside that polypus of dark clefts, he walked around it by the +road. On a small house with an arbour, which was on a corner, he saw a +sign saying: 'Cafe Espanol'; and went in. + + +THE CAFE ESPANOL + + +The cafe was dark and completely empty, but at one end there was a +balcony where the sun entered. Caesar crossed the cafe and sat down near +the balcony. + +He called several times, and clapped his hands, and a girl appeared. + +"What do you want?" she asked. + +"Something to drink. A bottle of beer." + +"I will call Uncle Chinaman." + +The girl went out, and soon after a thick, chubby man came in, with a +bottle of beer in his hand, the label of which he showed to Caesar, +asking him if that was what he wanted. + +"Yes, sir; that will do very well." + +The man opened the bottle with his corkscrew, put it on the table, and +as he seemed to have a desire to enter into conversation, Caesar asked +him: + +"Why did the girl tell me that Uncle Chinaman would come? Who is the +Chinaman?" + +"The Chinaman, or Uncle Chinaman, as you like; I am." + +"My dear man!" + +"Yes, we all have nicknames here. They called my father that, and they +call me that. Psh! It makes no difference. Because if a person is cross +about it, it's all the worse. A few days ago a muleteer from a town +in the district arrived here, and went to the inn, and as he had no +nickname and they are very fond here in Cidones of giving one to every +living creature, they said to him: 'No matter how short a while you stay +here, you will be given a nickname'; and he answered contemptuously: +'Bah! Little fear.' Soon after, as he was crossing the square, a girl +said to him: 'Good-bye, Little Fear!' and Little Fear it remained." + +As Uncle Chinaman seemed very communicative, Caesar asked him some +questions about life in the town. + +Uncle Chinaman talked a great deal and with great clearness. According +to him, the cause of all trouble in the town was cowardice. The two or +three bosses of Castro and Father Martin ruled their party arbitrarily, +and the rest of the people didn't dare breathe. + +The poor didn't understand that by being united they could offset the +influence of the rich, and even succeed in dominating them. Besides, +fear didn't permit them to move. + +"But fear of what?" said Caesar. + +"Fear of everything; fear that they will levy a tax, that they won't +provide work, that they will take your son for a soldier, that they will +put you in jail for something or other, that the two or three bullies +who are in the bosses' service might beat you." + +"Does their tyranny go as far as that?" + +"They do whatever they choose." + +The Chinaman, who looked more like a Tartar, could make himself quite +clear. If it had not been that he used the wrong words and had an itch +for unusual ones, he would have given the impression of being a most +intelligent man. + +He said he was anti-clerical, declared himself a pantheist, and spoke of +the "controversories" he maintained with different persons. + +"A relative of mine who is a monk," he said, "is always reprehending me, +and saying: 'Lucas, you are a Free-Thinker.' ... 'And it's greatly to +my credit,' I tell him." + +Then, apropos of his monkish relative, he told a scandalous story. A +niece of the Chinaman's, who had served for some while in the cafe, had +gone to live with this monk. + +Uncle Chinaman's account of it was rather grotesque. + +"I had a niece," he said, "in the house, you know, very spruce, very +good-looking, with breasts as hard as a rock. My wife loved her as +'muchly' as if she had been our daughter, and so did I. Suddenly we +heard the poor child had made a false step... or two false steps... and +a little while later the girl was in a bad condition. Well, then; she +went to town, and came back here to the cafe, and again we heard that +the poor child had made a false step... or two false steps; and as I +have daughters, you know, this 'pro... missiousness' didn't please me, +and I went and told her: 'Look here, Maria, this isn't right at all, and +what you ought to do is get out.' She understood me, and went away, and +went to her uncle the monk, and the two of them formed a 'cohabit.'... +Curse her! I went after them; and if I ever find them, I'll kill them. +All very well for the poor child to make a false step... or two false +steps; but this thing of getting into a 'cohabit' with a monk, and he +her uncle, that is a 'hulimination' for the family. You may believe that +we had to empty the cup down to the 'drugs.'" + + +FATHER MARTIN + + +Caesar was listening to Uncle Chinaman with joy, when he saw two friars +passing along the road below the balcony. + +"They are from the monastery of la Pena, I suppose," he said. + +The Chinaman looked out and replied: + +"One of them is the prior, Father Lafuerza. The other is an intriguing +young chap who has been here only a short while." + +"Man, I have to see them," said Caesar. + +"They are coming up the street now." + +Uncle Chinaman and Caesar went to the other end of the cafe, and waited +for them to pass. + +The younger of the two friars had an air of mock humility, and was +weakly-looking, with a straggling yellowish beard and a crafty +expression; Father Martin, on the contrary, looked like a pasha parading +through his dominions. He was tall, stout, of an imposing aspect, with a +grizzly blond beard, blue eyes, and a straight, well-shaped nose. + +The two friars came up the narrow, steep street, stopping to talk to the +women that were sewing and embroidering in the arcades. + +Caesar and the Chinaman followed them with their eyes until the two +friars turned a corner. Then Caesar left the cafe and walked back to +Castro Duro. + + + + +VII + +A TRYING SCENE + + +Don Platon Peribanez's reply was delayed longer than he had promised. No +one knew whether the Duke of Castro Duro would get married or not get +married, whether he would come out of prison or stay in. + +Caesar had nothing for it but to wait, although he was already fed up +with his stay. Alzugaray had a good time; he visited the surrounding +towns in the company of Amparito and her father. Caesar, on the other +hand, began to be bored. Accustomed to live with the independence of a +savage, the social train of a town like Castro irritated him. + +His good opinion of people was in direct ratio to the indifference +they felt for him. Amparito's father was one of those who showed most +antipathy. Sometimes he invited him to go motoring, but only for +politeness. Caesar used to reply to these invitations with a courteous +refusal. + +Amparito, who was doubtless accustomed to seeing everybody in town +fluttering about her, was wounded at this indifference and took every +chance to see Caesar, and then shot her wit at him and was sharply +impertinent. + +The young creature was more intelligent than she had at first appeared +and she spoke very plainly. + +Caesar could not permit a young girl to make fun of him and combat his +ideas for her own amusement. + +"Let's see, Moneada," Amparito said to him one day in the gallery at Don +Calixto's. "What are your political plans?" + +"You wouldn't understand them," replied Caesar. + +"Why not? Do you think I am so stupid?" + +"No. It is merely that politics are not a matter for children." "Ah! But +how old do you think I am?" she asked. + +"You must be twelve or thirteen." + +"You are a malicious joker, Senor Moncada, You know that I am almost +seventeen." + +"I don't. How should I know it?" + +"Because I told your friend Alzugaray...." + +"All right, but I don't ask my friend what you have told him." + +"It doesn't interest you? Very good. You are very polite. But your +politics do interest me. Come on, tell me. What reforms do you intend +to make in the town? What improvements are you going to give the +inhabitants? For I warn you, Senor Moncada, that they are all going to +vote against you otherwise, I will tell my father." + +"I don't believe his political interest is so keen." + +"It is keen enough, and my father will do what I tell him. My father +says that you are ambitious." + +"If I were, I should make love to you, because you are rich." + +"And do you suppose I would respond?" + +"I don't know, but I should try it, as others do; and you can see that I +don't try." + +Amparito bit her lips and said ironically: + +"Are you reserving yourself for my cousin Adelaida?" + +"I am not reserving myself for anybody." + +"We couldn't say that you are very amiable." + +"That is true. I never have been." + +"If you keep on like that when you are a Deputy...." + +"What difference is it to you whether I am a Deputy or not? Is it +because you have some beau who wants the place? If it is, tell me. I +will withdraw in his favour. You must see that I can do no more," said +Caesar jokingly. + +"And how you would hate me then; if you had to give up being a Deputy on +my account!" + +"No." + +"You hate me already." + +"No. You are mistaken." "Yes. I believe if you could, you would strike +me." + +"No, the most I should do would be to shut you up in a dark room." + +"You are an odious, antipathetic man. I thought I rather liked you, but +I only hate you." + +"You know already, Amparito, that I am a candidate for Deputy, but not +one for you." + +"All right. All right. I don't wish to hear any more stupid remarks." + +"The stupid remarks are those you are making." + +And Caesar, who was beginning to feel angry, rebuked Amparito too +severely, for her coquetry, her bad intentions, and her desire to +humiliate and mortify people without any reason. + +Amparito listened to him, pale and panting. + +"And after all," said Caesar, "all this is nothing to me. If I am in +your family's way, or even in your way, I can go away from here, and all +is ended." + +"No, do not go away," murmured Amparito, raising her handkerchief to her +eyes and beginning to weep bitterly. + +Caesar felt deeply grieved; all his anger disappeared, and he stood +there, amazed, and not knowing what to do. + +"Do not cry," exclaimed Caesar; "what will they think of me? Come, don't +cry. It is childish." + +At that moment Amparito's father entered the gallery, and he came +running to the girl's side. + +"What have you done to my daughter?" he cried, approaching Caesar +threateningly. + +"I, nothing," he said. + +"You have. What has he done to you?" screamed the father. + +"Nothing, Papa. Do not shriek that way, for God's sake," moaned +Amparito; "I was entirely to blame." + +"If he..." + +"No, I tell you he hasn't done anything to me." + +Caesar, who had remained motionless in face of Amparito's father's +threatening attitude, turned on his heel, and went slowly out. THE +ETERNAL GAME OF DISDAIN + + +Caesar went back to the hotel, thinking very hard. Alzugaray asked him +what the matter was, and Caesar told his friend what had happened in +the gallery. On hearing the story Alzugaray assumed a look of deep +desolation. + +"I don't understand what is the matter with the girl, for her to show +such antipathy for me," Caesar concluded. + +"It is very simple," said Alzugaray, sadly; "the girl is interested in +you. The eternal game of disdain has produced its effect. She has seen +you show yourself indifferent toward her, speak curtly to her, and she +has gone on thinking more and more about you, and now she thinks of +nothing else. That is what has happened." + +"Bah! I don't believe it. You act as if this were in a novel." + +"It's no novel. It's the truth." + +The next day, when Caesar got up, the maid handed him two letters. One +was from Don Calixto and said that Senor Peribanez accepted him as +candidate. It had been learned that the Duke of Castro Duro had married +his landlady in England; the arrangement with the Cuban gentleman was +impossible, and the poor Duke would definitely have to winter in Paris, +in the prison, along with the distinguished apaches, Bibi de Montmartre +and the Panther of the Batignolles. + +The other letter was from Amparito. + +Don Calixto's niece told him he mustn't believe that she hated him; if +she had said anything to him, it was without bad intention; she would be +very happy if all his projects were realized. + +Despite his ambitious plans and the desire he had that the question of +his candidacy should be definitely settled, Amparito's letter interested +him much more than Don Calixto's. + +A new, disturbing element was coming into his life, without any warning +and without any reason. He said nothing about Amparito's letter to his +friend Alzugaray. He felt him to be a rival, and in spite of having no +intentions of going further, the idea of rivalry between them troubled +him. He did not wish to offend him by taking the attitude of a lucky +man. + +He went out into the street and set off for a walk on the highway. + +"It is strange," he thought, "this coarse psychology, which proves that +a man and a woman, especially a woman, are not complex beings, but +stupidly simple. The complex thing in a woman is not the intelligence or +the soul, but instinct. Why does a woman rebuff a man who pleases her? +For the same reason that the female animal repulses the male, and at the +same time calls him to her. + +"And this instinctive love, this mixture of hatred and attraction, is +the curious thing, the enigmatic thing about human nature. The intellect +of each individual is, by contrast, so poor, so clear! + +"This girl, rich and attractive, flattered by everybody, is bored in +this town. She sees a man that doesn't pay attention to her, who is +after another goal, and simply for that reason she feels offended and +hunts out a way to mortify him, for her entertainment and for spite; and +when she finds that she doesn't succeed, she gets to thinking about him +all the time. + +"And this spite, this wounded vanity, is changed to an absorbing +interest. Why shouldn't that absorbing interest be called love? Yes, she +is in love, and finds great satisfaction in thinking so. + +"She is not an insignificant girl, daughter of a commonplace gentleman; +to herself, she is a romantic figure. She seems to be absorbed in +another, and what is really the case is that she is absorbed in herself. +How ridiculous this all is!... And this is life. Is the whole of life +nothing, in reality, but ridiculous?" + +Caesar returned home, and unknown to Alzugaray, wrote a letter to +Amparito. He put the letter into the box, and then went to call on Don +Calixto, and take leave of him. Don Calixto invited Caesar and Alzugaray +to dinner the next day, and there were the same guests as the first +time. + +The dinner was cold and ceremonious. Amparito was grave, like a +grown person. Scarcely speaking, she replied with discreet smiles to +Alzugaray's occasional phrases, but she was not in a humour to tease +anybody. + +The train started about the middle of the afternoon, and Don Calixto had +arranged to have the carriage got ready, and to accompany the travellers +to the station. + +Caesar was uneasy, thinking of the leave-taking. The moment for saying +good-bye to Amparito and her father, it seemed to him, would be a +difficult moment. Nevertheless, everything went off smoothly. The father +offered his hand, without grudge. Amparito blushed a little and said: + +"We shall see each other again, Moncada?" + +"Yes, I'm sure of it," replied Caesar; and the two friends and Don +Calixto took the carriage for the station. + +The two friends' return trip to Madrid was scarcely agreeable. Alzugaray +was offended at Caesar's personal success with Amparito; Caesar +understood his comrade's mental attitude and didn't know what to say or +do. + +To them both the journey seemed long and unpleasant, and when they +reached their destination, they were glad to separate. + + + + +VIII + +THE ELECTION + +WHAT THEY SAID IN THE TOWNS + + +A short while later the eventuality predicted by Caesar occurred. The +Liberal ministry met a crisis, and after various intermediate attempts +at mixed cabinets, the Conservatives came into power. + +Caesar had no need to insist with the Minister of the Interior. He was +one of the inevitable. He was pigeon-holed as an adherent, from the +first moment. + +The Government had given out the decree for the dissolution of the +Cortes in February and was preparing for the General Election in the +middle of April. + +Caesar would have gone immediately to Castro Duro, but he feared that if +he showed interest it would complicate the situation. There were a +lot of elements there, whose attitude it was not easy to foresee; Don +Platon's friends, Father Martin and his people, Amparito's father, the +friends of the opposing candidate, Garcia Padilla. Caesar thought it +better that they should consider him a young dandy with no further +ambition than to give himself airs, rather than a future master of the +town. + +He wrote to Don Calixto, and Don Calixto told him there was no hurry, +everything was in order; it would be sufficient for him to appear five +or six days before the election. + +Caesar was impatient to begin his task, and it occurred to him that he +might visit the towns that made up the district, without saying anything +to anybody or making himself known. The excursion commenced at the +beginning of the month of April. He left the train at a station before +Castro. He bought a horse and went about through the towns. Nobody in +the villages knew that there was going to be an election; such things +made no difference to anybody. + +After the inauguration of a new Government there was a little revolution +in each village, produced by the change of the town-council and by the +distribution of all the jobs that were municipal spoils, which passed +from the hands of those calling themselves Liberals to the hands of +those calling themselves Conservatives. + +Caesar discovered that besides the Liberal Garcia Padilla, there was +another candidate, protected by Father Martin La-fuerza; but it looked +as if the Clericals were going to abandon him. In a town named Val de +San Gil, the schoolmaster explained to him, with some fantastic details, +the politics of Don Calixto. The schoolmaster was a Liberal and a frank, +brusque, intelligent man, but he formed his judgment of Don Calixto's +politics on the prejudices of a Republican paper in Madrid, which was +the only one he read. + +According to him, Senor Moncada, whom nobody knew, was nothing more +than a figure-head for the Jesuits. Father Martin Lafuerza was getting +possession of too much land in Castro, and wanted everything to belong +to his monastery. The Jesuits had learned of this and were sending young +Moncada to undo the Franciscan friar's combinations and establish the +reign of the Loyolists. + +In another place, named Villavieja, Caesar found that the four or five +persons interested in Castrian politics were against him. It seemed that +the Conservative candidate they wanted was the one protected by Father +Martin, who had promised them results greatly to their advantage. + +In general, the people in the towns were not up on politics; when Caesar +asked them what they thought about the different questions that interest +a country, they shrugged their shoulders. + +In the outlying hamlets they didn't know either who the king was or what +his name was. + +The only way in which the trip was of service to the future candidate +was by giving him an idea of how elections were carried on, by teaching +him who carried the returns to Don. Calixto, and showing him which of +these people could be warranted to be honourable and which were rascals. + + +INDIFFERENCE IN CASTRO + + +Three days before the election Caesar appeared in Castro and went to +stay at Don Calixto's house. Nobody knew about his expedition in the +environs. There were no preparations whatever. People said they were +going to change Deputies; but really this was of no great moment in the +life of the town. + +Saturday night the party committee met in the Casino at seven. Caesar +arrived a few minutes early; no one was there. He was shown into a +shabby salon, lighted by an oil lamp. + +It was cold in the room, and Caesar walked about while he waited. On the +ceiling a complete canopy of spider-webs, like dusty silver, trembled in +every draught. + +At half-past eight the first members of the committee arrived; the +others kept on coming lazily in. Each one had some pretext to excuse his +being late. + +The fact was that the matter interested nobody; the politics of the +district were going to go on as formerly, and really it wasn't worth +while thinking about. Caesar was a decorative figure with no background. + +At nine all the members of the committee were in the Casino. Don Calixto +made a speech which he prolonged in an alarming manner. Caesar answered +him in another speech, which was heard with absolute coldness. + +Then a frantic gabbling let loose; everybody wanted to talk. They +abandoned themselves fruitfully to distinctions. "If it is certain +that....Although it is true....Not so much because ..." and they +eulogized one another as orators, with great gravity. + +The next day, Sunday, the proclamation of the candidates took place. +They were three: Moncada, Governmental; Garcia Padilla, Liberal; and San +Roman, Republican. + +San Roman was the old Republican bookseller; it was sure beforehand that +he couldn't win, but it suited Caesar that he should run, so that the +Workmen's Club elements should not vote for the Liberal candidate. + +Two days before the election Caesar went to Cidones and entered the Cafe +Espanol. + +He asked for Uncle Chinaman, and told him that he was the future Deputy. +Uncle Chinaman recognized the young man with whom he had talked some +months previous in his cafe, he remembered him with pleasure, and +received him with great demonstrations. + +"Man," Caesar said to him, "I want you to do me a favour." + +"Only tell me." + +"It is a question about the election." + +"Good. Let's hear what it is." + +"There are several towns where Padilla's adherents are ready, after +the count, to change the real returns for forged ones. Everything is +prepared for it. As I have sent people to their voting-places, they +intend to make the change on the road, taking the returns from the +messengers and giving them forged ones instead. I want twenty or thirty +reliable men to send, four by four, to accompany the messengers that +come with the returns, or else to carry them themselves." + +"All right, I will get them for you," said Uncle Chinaman. + +"How much money do you need?" + +"Twenty dollars will do me." + +"Take forty." + +"All right. Which towns are they?" + +Caesar told him the names of the towns where he feared substitution. +Then he warned him: + +"You will say nothing about this." + +"Nothing." + +Caesar gave precise instructions to the landlord of the cafe, and on +bidding Uncle Chinaman good-bye, he told him: + +"I know already that you are really on my side." + +"You believe so?" + +"Yes." On Sunday the elections began with absolute inanimation. In +the city the Republicans were getting the majority, especially in the +suburbs. Padilla was far behind. Nevertheless, it was said at the Casino +that it was possible Padilla would finally win the election, because he +might have an overwhelming majority in five or six rural wards. + +At four in the afternoon the results in the city gave the victory to +Moncada. Next to him came San Roman, and in the last place Padilla. + +The returns began to come in from the villages. In all of them the +results were similar. It was found that the official element voted +for the Government candidate, and those who had been attached to the +preceding town-council for the Liberal. + +At eight in the evening the returns arrived from the first village where +Padilla expected a victory. The messenger, surrounded by four men from +Cidones, was in a terrified condition. He handed over the returns and +left. The result was the same as in all the other rural districts. + +In one village alone, the presiding officer had been able to evade the +vigilance of the guards sent by Caesar and Uncle Chinaman, and change +the number of votes in the returns; but despite this, the election was +won for Caesar. + +The next day the exact result of the election was known. It stood: + +Moncada, 3705. Garcia Padilla, 1823. San Roman, 750. + +When it was known that Caesar had played a trick on his enemies under +their noses, he came into great estimation. + +The judge said: + +"I believe you were all deceived. You supposed Don Caesar to be a +sucking dove, and he is going to turn out to be a vulture for us." + +Caesar listened to felicitations and accepted congratulations smiling, +and some days later returned to Madrid. + + + + +IX + +CAESAR AS DEPUTY + +TRIPPING THEM UP + + +People who didn't know Caesar intimately used to ask one another: "What +purpose could Moncada have had in getting elected Deputy? He never +speaks, he takes no part in the big debates." + +His name appeared from time to time on some committee about Treasury +affairs; but that was all. + +His life was completely veiled; he was not seen at first nights, or in +salons, or on the promenade; he was a man apparently forgotten, lost +to Madrid life. Sometimes on coming out of the Chamber he would see +Amparito in an automobile; she would look for him with her eyes, and +smile; he would take his hat off ostentatiously, with a low bow. + +Among a very small number of persons Caesar had the reputation of an +intelligent and dangerous man. They suspected him of great personal +ambition. It would not have been logical to think that this cold +unexpansive man was, in his heart, a patriot who felt Spain's decadence +deeply and was seeking the means to revive her. + +"No pleasures, no middle-class satisfactions," he thought; "but to live +for a patriotic ideal, to shove Spain forward, and to form with the +flesh of one's native land a great statue which should be her historic +monument." + +That was his plan. In Congress Caesar kept silence; but he talked in +the corridors, and his ironic, cold, dispassionate comments began to be +quoted. + +He had formed relations with the Minister of the Treasury, a man who +passed for famous and was a mediocrity, passed for honourable and was a +rogue. Caesar was much in his company. + +The famous financier realized that Moncada knew far more than he did +about monetary questions, and among his friends he admitted it; but he +gave them to understand that Caesar was only a theorist, incapable of +quick decision and action. + +Caesar's friendship was a convenience to the Minister, and the +Minister's to Caesar. In his heart the Minister hated Caesar, and Caesar +felt a deep contempt for the famous financier. + +Nobody seeing them in a carriage talking affectionately together could +have imagined that there existed such an amount of hatred and hostility +between them. + +The majority of people, with an absolute want of perspicacity, believed +Caesar to be fascinated by the Minister's brilliant intellect; but there +were persons that understood the situation of the pair and who used to +say: + +"Moncada has an influence over the Minister like that of a priest over a +family." + +And there was some truth in it. + +Caesar carried his experimental method over from the stock exchange into +politics. He kept a note-book, in which he put down all data about the +private lives of Ministers and Deputies, and he filed these papers after +classifying them. + +Castro Duro began to be aware of Caesar's exertions. The secretary of +the municipality, the employees, all who were friends and adherents to +the boss's group that Don Platon belonged with, began by degrees to +leave Castro. + +Those who had lost their jobs, and their protectors too, began to write +letters and more letters to the Deputy. At first they believed that +Caesar wasn't interested; but they were soon able to understand at +Castro that he was interested enough, but not in them. The Minister of +the Treasury served him as a battering-ram to use against the Clericals +at Castro Duro. + +Don Calixto was inwardly rejoiced to see his rivals reduced to +impotency. + +Caesar began to establish political relations with the Republican +bookseller and his friends. When he began to perceive that he was making +headway with the Liberal and Labour element, he started without delay to +set mines under Don Calixto's terrain. The judge, who was a friend of +Don Calixto's, was transferred; so were some clerks of the court; and +the Count of la Sauceda, the famous boss, was soon able to realize that +his protege was firing against him. + +"I have nourished a serpent in my bosom," said Don Calixto; "but I know +how I can grind its head." + +He could not have been very sure of his strength; for Don Calixto found +himself in a position where he had to beg for quarter. Caesar conceded +it, on the understanding that Don Calixto would not take any more part +in Castro politics. + +"You people had the power and you didn't use it very well for the town. +Now just leave it to me." + +In exchange for Don Calixto's surrender, Caesar agreed to have his Papal +title legalized. + +At the end of a year and a half Caesar had all the bosses of Castro in +his fist. + +"Suppressing the bosses in the district was easy," Caesar used to say; +"I managed to have one make all the others innocuous, and then I made +that one, who was Don Calixto, innocuous and gave him a title." + +Caesar did not forget or neglect the least detail. He listened to +everybody that talked to him, even though they had nothing but nonsense +to say; he always answered letters, and in his own handwriting. + +With the townpeople he used the tactics of knowing all their names, +especially the old folks', and for this purpose he carried a little +note-book. He wrote down, for example: "Senor Ramon, was in the Carlist +war; Uncle Juan, suffers with rheumatism." + +When, by means of his notes, he remembered these details, it produced +an extraordinary effect on people. Everybody considered himself the +favourite. + + +CAESAR'S MANNER OF LIVING + +Caesar lived simply; he had a room in an hotel in the Carrera de San +Jeronimo, where he received calls; but nobody ever found him there +except in business hours. + +He used to go now and then to Alzugaray's house, where he would talk +over various matters with his friend's mother and sister; he would find +out about everything, and go away after giving them advice on questions +of managing their money, which they almost always observed and followed. + +Of all people, Ignacio Alzugaray was the most incredulous in regard +to his friend; his mother and his sister believed in Caesar as in an +oracle. Caesar often thought that he ought to fall definitely in love +with Ignacio's sister and marry her; but neither he nor she seemed to +have set upon passing the limits of a cordial friendship. + +Caesar told the Alzugaray family how he lived and caused them to laugh +and wonder. + +He had rented a fairly large upper story in a street in Valle Hermoso, +for five dollars. The days he had nothing to do he went there. He put +on an old, worn-out fur coat, which was still a protection, a soft hat, +took a stick, and went walking in the environs. + +His favourite walk was the neighbourhood of the Canalillo and of the +Dehesa de Amaniel. + +Generally he went out of his house on the side opposite the Model +Prison, then he walked toward Moncloa, and taking the right, passed near +the Rubio Institute, and entered the Cerro del Pimiento by an open lot +which he got into through a broken wall. + +From there one could see, far away, the Guadarrama range, like a curtain +of blue mountains and snowy crests; on clear days, the Escorial; +Aravaca, the Casa de Campo, and the Sierra de Gredos, which ran out on +the left hand like a promontory. Nearby one saw a pine grove, close to +the Rubio Institute, and a valley containing market-gardens, and the +ranges of the Moncloa shooting school. + +Caesar would walk on by the winding road, and stop to look at the +Cemetery of San Martin on the right, with its black cypresses and its +yellowish walls. + +Then he would follow the twists of the Canalillo, and pass in front of +the third Reservoir, to the Amaniel road. + +That was where Caesar would have built himself a house, had he had the +idea of living retired. + +The dry, hard landscape was the kind he liked. The mornings were +wonderful, the blue sky radiant, the air limpid and thin. + +The twilight had an extraordinary enchantment. All that vast extent of +land, the mountains, the hills of the Casa de Campo, the cypresses of +the cemetery, were bathed in a violet light. + +In winter there were hunters of yellow-hammers and goldfinches in these +regions, who set their nets and their decoys on the ground, and spent +hours and hours watching for their game. + +On Sunday, in particular, the number of hunters was very large. They +went in squads of three; one carried a big bundle on his shoulder, which +was the net all rolled up; another the decoy cages, fastened with a +strap; and the third a frying-pan, a skin of wine, and some kindling for +a fire. + +Caesar used to talk with the guards at Amaniel, with the +octroi-officers, and he got to be great friends with a little hunchback, +a bird hunter. + +It was curious to hear this hunchback talk of the habits of the birds +and of the influence of the winds. He knew how the gold-finches, +yellow-hammers, and linnets make their nests, and the preference some of +them have for coltsfoot cotton, and others for wool or for cow's hair. +He told Caesar a lot of things, many of which could have existed only in +his imagination, but which were entertaining. + + +ONE DAY AT CHRISTMASTIME + + +One day at Christmastime Alzugaray went in the morning to look for +Caesar. He knew where to find him and walked direct to the Calle de +Galileo. At the house, they told him that Caesar was eating in a tavern +close at hand. + +Alzugaray went into the place and found his friend the Deputy seated +in a coner eating. He had the appearance of a superior workman, an +electrician, carver, or something of the sort. + +"If people find out you behave so extravagantly, they will think you are +crazy," said Alzugaray. + +"Pshaw! Nobody comes here," replied Caesar. "The political world and +this are separate worlds. This one belongs to the people who have to +shoulder the load of everything, and the other is a world of villains, +robbers, idiots, and fools. Really, it is difficult to find anything +so vile, so inept, and so useless as a Spanish politician. The Spanish +middle class is a warren of rogues and villains. I feel an enormous +repugnance to brushing against it. That is why I came here now and then +to talk to these people; not because these are good, no; the first and +the last of them are riff-raff, but at least they say what they mean and +they blaspheme naively." + +"What are you going to do after lunch?" Alzugaray asked him. "Have you +got a sweetheart in one of the old-clothes shops of the quarter?" + +"No. I was thinking of taking a walk; that's all." + +"Then come along." + +They left the tavern and went along a street between sides of sand cut +straight down, and started up the Cerro del Pimiento. The soft, vague +mist allowed the Guadarrama to stand out visible. + +"This landscape enchants me," said Caesar. + +"It seems hard and gloomy," responded Alzugaray. + +"Yes, that is true; hard and gloomy, but noble. When one is drenched +with a miserable political life, when one actually forms a part of +that Olympus of madmen called Congress, one needs to be purified. How +miserable, how vile that political life is! How many faces pale with +envy there are! What low and repugnant hatreds! When I come out +nauseated by seeing those people; when I am soaked with repugnance, then +I come out here to walk, I look at those serious mountains, so frowning +and strong, and the mere sight of them seems like a purifying flame +which cleanses me from meanness." + +"I see that you are as absurd as ever, Caesar. It would never occur to +anybody to come and comfort himself with some melancholy mountains, out +here between an abandoned hospital, which looks like a leper-asylum, and +a deserted cemetery." + +"Well, these mountains give me an impression of energy and nobility, +which raises my spirits. This leper-asylum, as you call it, sunken in a +pit, this deserted cemetery, those distant mountains, are my friends; +I imagine they are saying to me: 'One must be hard, one must be strong +like us, one must live in solitude....'" + +They did not continue their walk much further, because the night and +the fog combined made it difficult to see the path along the +Canalillo, which made it possible to fall in, and that would have been +disagreeable. + +They returned the way they had come. From the top of a hill they saw +Madrid in the twilight, covered with fog; and in the streets newly +opened between the sides of sand, the lights of the gas-lamps sparkled +in a nimbus of rainbow.... + + + + +X + +POLITICAL LABOURS + +MONEY ON THE EXCHANGE + + +Although Caesar did not distinguish himself especially in Congress, he +worked hard. His activities were devoted mainly to two points: the stock +exchange and Castro Duro. + +Caesar had found a partner to play the market for him, a Bilboan +capitalist, whom he had convinced of the correctness of his system. +Senor Salazar had deposited, in Caesar's name, thirty thousand dollars. +With this sum Caesar played for millions and he was drawing an +extraordinary dividend from his stocks. + +Their operations were made in the name of Alzugaray, whose job it was +to go every month to see the broker, and to sign and collect the +certificates. Caesar gave his orders by telephone, and Alzugaray +communicated them to the broker. + +Alzugaray often went to see Caesar and said to him: + +"The broker came to my house terrified, to tell me that what we are +going to do is an absurdity." + +"Let it alone," Caesar would say. "You know our agreement. You get +ten percent of the profits for giving the orders. Do not mix in any +further." + +Often, on seeing the positive result of Caesar's speculations, Alzugaray +would ask him: + +"Do you find out at the Ministry what is going to happen?" + +"Pshaw!" Caesar would say; "the market is not a capricious thing, as you +think. There are signs. I pay attention to a lot of facts, which give +me indications: coupons, the amount shares advance, the calculation of +probabilities; and I compare all these scientific data with empirical +observations that are difficult to explain. In such a situation, events +are what make the least difference to me. Is there going to be a +revolution or a Carlist war?...I am careless about it." + +"But this is impossible," Alzugaray used to say. "Excuse me for saying +so, but I don't believe you. You have some secret, and that is what +helps you." + +"How fantastic you all are!"' Caesar would exclaim; "you refuse to +believe in the rational, and still you believe in the miraculous." + +"No, I do not believe in the, miraculous; but I cannot explain your +methods." + +"That's clear! Am I to explain them to you! When you don't know the +mechanism of the market! I am certain that you have never considered the +mechanism of the rise produced by the reintegration of the coupon, or +the way that rise is limited to double its value. Tell me. Do you know +what that means?" + +"No." + +"Well, then, how are you to understand anything?" + +"All right, then; explain it to me." + +"There's no difficulty. You know that the natural tendency of the market +is to rise." + +"To rise and to fall," interrupted Alzugaray. + +"No, only to rise." + +"I don't see it." + +"The general tendency of the market is to rise, because having to fall +eighty _centimos_, the value of the coupon, every quarter, if the market +didn't rise to offset that loss, shares would reach zero...." + +"I don't understand," said Alzugaray. + +"Imagine a man on a stairway; if you oblige him to go down one step +every so often, in order to keep in the same place as before he will +necessarily have to go up again, because if he didn't do so, he would be +constantly approaching the front door." + +"Yes, surely." "Well, this man on the stairway is the quotation, and the +mechanical task of constantly making up for the quarterly loss is what +is called the reintegration of the coupon." + +"You do not convince me." + +Alzugaray didn't like listening to these explanations. He had formed +an opinion that had not much foundation, but he would not admit that +Caesar, by reasoning, could arrive at the glimmering of an inductive and +deductive method, where others saw no more than chance. + + +CAESAR BEGINS HIS TASK + + +With the money he made on the market, Caesar was making himself the +master of Castro Duro. He constantly assumed a more Liberal attitude in +the Chamber, and was in a position to abandon the Conservative majority, +on any pretext. + +His plan of campaign at Castro Duro corresponded to this political +position of his: he had rehabilitated the Workmen's Club and paid its +debts. The Club had been founded by the workmen of a thread factory, +now shut. The number of members was very small and the labourers and +employees of the railway and some weavers were its principal support. + +On learning that it was about to be closed for lack of funds, Caesar +promised to support it. He thought of endowing the Club with a library, +and installing a school in the country. On seeing that the Deputy was +patronizing the Club, a lot of labourers of all kinds joined it. A new +governing board was named, of which Caesar was honourary president, and +the Workmen's Club re-arose from its ashes. The Republicans and the +little group of Socialists, almost all weavers, were on Caesar's side +and promised to vote for him in the coming election. + +Various Republicans who went to Madrid to call on Caesar, told him +he ought to come out as a Republican. They would vote for him with +enthusiasm. + +"No; why should I?" Caesar used to answer. "Are we going to do any more +at Castro by my being a Republican than when I am not one? Besides the +fact that I should not be elected on that ticket and should thus have no +further influence, to me the forms of a government are indifferent; +I don't even care whether it has a true ideal or a false one. What I +do want is for the town to progress; whether by means of a dream or +by means of a reality. A politician should seek for efficiency before +asking anything else, and at present the Republican dream would not be +efficient at Castro." + +Most of the Republicans did not go away very well satisfied with what +Caesar had said; and after leaving him, they would say: + +"He is a very curious person, but he favours us and we'll have to follow +him." + +The reopening of the Workmen's Club in Castro was the chance for an +event. Caesar was in favour of inaugurating the Club without any +celebration, without attracting the attention of the Clericals; but the +members of the Club, on the contrary, wished to give the reactionaries a +dose to swallow, and Caesar could not but promise his participation in +the inauguration. + +"Would you like to come to Castro?" Caesar said to Alzugaray. + +"What are you going to do there?" + +"We are going to open a Club." + +"Are you going to speak?" + +"Yes." + +"All right. Let's go, so that I can hear you. Probably you will do it +badly enough." + +"It's possible." + +"And what you say won't please anybody." + +"That's possible, too. But that makes no difference. You will come?" + +"Yes. Will there be picturesque speakers?" + +"There are some, but they are not going to speak. There is one, Uncle +Chinaman, who is a marvel. In describing the actual condition of Spain, +he once uttered this authoritative phrase: 'Clericalism in the zenith, +immorality in high places, the debt floating more every day,...'" + +"That's very good." "It certainly is. He made another happy phrase, +criticizing the Spanish administration. 'For what reason do they write +so many useless papers?' he said. 'So that rats, the obscene reptiles, +can go on eating them....'" + +"That's very good too." + +"He is a man without any education, but very intelligent. So you are +going to come?" + +"Yes." + +"Then we will meet at the station." + + +CAN ONE CHANGE OR NOT? + + +They took the train at night and they chatted as they went along in it. +Caesar explained to Alzugaray the difficulties he had had to overcome +in order that the Workmen's Club could be reinstituted, and went on +detailing his projects for the future. + +"Do you believe the town is going to be transformed?" asked Alzugaray. + +"Yes, certainly!" said Caesar, staring at his friend. + +"So then, you, a Darwinist who hold it as a scientific doctrine +that only the slow action of environment can transform species and +individuals, believe that a poor worn-out, jog-trotting race is going +to revive suddenly, in a few years! Can a Darwinist believe in a +revolutionizing miracle?" + +"Previously, no; but now he can." + +"My dear fellow! How so?" + +"Haven't you read anything about the experiments of the Dutch botanist +Hugo de Vries?" + +"No." + +"Well, his experiments have proved that there are certain vegetable +species which, all at once, without any preparation, without anything +to make you expect it, change type absolutely and take on other +characters." + +"The devil! That really is extraordinary." + +"Vries verified this rapid transformation first in a plant named +OEnotheria Lamarckiana, which, all of a sudden, with no influence from +the environment, with nothing to justify it, at times changes and +metamorphosizes itself into a different plant." + +"But this transformation may be due to a disease," said Alzugaray. + +"No, because the mutation, after taking place, persists from generation +to generation, not with pathological characteristics, but with +completely normal ones." + +"It is most curious." + +"These experiments have produced Neo-Darwinism. The Neo-Darwinists, with +Hugo de Vries at their head, believe that species are not generally +gradually transformed, but that they produce new forms in a sudden, +brusque way, having children different from the fathers. And if such +brusque variations can take place in a characteristic so fixed as +physiological form, what may not happen in a thing so unstable as the +manner of thinking? Thus, it is very possible that the men of the +Italian Renaissance or the French Revolution were mentally distinct from +their predecessors and their successors, and they may even have been +organically distinct." + +"But this overthrows the whole doctrine of evolution," said Alzugaray. + +"No. The only thing it has done is to distinguish two forms of change: +one, the slow variation already verified by everybody, the other the +brusque variation pointed out by Hugo de Vries. We see now that the +impulses, which in politics are called evolution and revolution, are +only reflexions of Nature's movements." + +"So then, we may hope that Castro Duro will change into an Athens?" +asked Alzugaray. + +"We may hope so," said Caesar. + +"All right, let's hope sleeping." + +They ordered the porter to prepare two berths in the car, and they both +lay down. + + +THE RECEPTION + + +In the morning Caesar went to the dressing-room, and a short while later +came back clean and dressed up as if he were at a ball. + +"How spruce you are!" Alzugaray said to him. + +"Yes, that's because they will come to receive me at the station." + +"Honestly?" + +"Yes." + +"Ha...ha...ha...!" laughed Alzugaray. + +"What are you laughing at?" asked Caesar, smiling. + +"At your having arranged a reception and brought me along for a +witness." + +"No, man, no," said Caesar; "I have arranged nothing. The workmen of the +Club will come down out of gratitude." + +"Ah, that's it! Then there will be only a few." + +At this juncture the car door opened and a man in the dirty clothes of a +mechanic appeared. + +"Don Caesar Moncada?" he inquired. + +"What is it?" said Caesar. + +"I belong to the Castro Workmen's Club and I have come to welcome you +ahead of anybody else," and he held out his hand. "Greetings!" + +"Greetings! Regards to the comrades," said Caesar, shaking his hand. + +"Damn it, what enthusiasm!" murmured Alzugaray. + +The employee disappeared. On arriving at the station, Alzugaray looked +out the window and saw with astonishment that the platform was full of +people. + +As the car entered the covered area of the station, noisy applause broke +out. Caesar opened the door and took off his hat courteously. + +"Hurrah for Moncada! Hurrah for the Deputy from Castro! Hurrah for +liberty!" they heard the shouts. + +Caesar got out of the car, followed by Alzugaray, and found himself +surrounded by a lot of people. There were some workmen and peasants, but +the majority were comfortable citizens. + +They all crowded around to grasp his hand. + +Surrounded by this multitude, they left the station. There Caesar took +leave of all his acquaintances and got into a carriage with Alzugaray, +while hurrahs and applauses resounded. + +"Eh? What did you think of the reception?" asked Caesar. + +"Magnificent, my boy!" + +"You can't say I behaved like a demagogue." + +"On the contrary, you were too distant." + +"They know I am like that and it doesn't astonish them." + +Caesar had a rented house in Castro and the two friends went to it. +All morning and part of the afternoon committees kept coming from the +villages, who wanted to talk with Caesar and consult him about the +affairs of their respective municipalities. + + +INAUGURATION OF THE CLUB + + +In the evening the Workmen's Club was inaugurated. Nobody in Castro +talked of anything else. The Clerical element had advised all religious +persons to stay away from the meeting. + +The large hall of the Club was profusely lighted; and by half-past six +was already completely full. + +At seven the ceremony began. The president of the Club, a printer, +spoke, and told of Caesar's benefactions; then the Republican +bookseller, San Roman, give a discourse; and after him Caesar took up +the tale. + +He explained his position in the Chamber in detail. The people listened +with some astonishment, doubtless wishing to find an opportune occasion +for applause, and not finding it. + +Some of the old men put their hands to their ears, like a shell, so as +to hear better. + +Next, Caesar spoke about life in Castro, and pointed out the town's +needs. + +"You have here," he said, "three fundamental problems, as is the case +with almost all towns in the interior of Spain. First: water. You have +neither good drinking water, nor enough water for irrigation. For +want of drinkable water, the mortality of Castro is high; for want of +irrigation, you cannot cultivate more than a very small zone, under +good conditions. For that reason water must be brought here, and an +irrigation canal begun. Second problem: subsistence. Here, as in the +whole of Castile, there are people who corner the grain market and raise +the price of wheat, and people who corner the necessities of life and +put up their prices as high as they feel like. To prevent this, it is +necessary for the Municipality to establish a public granary which shall +regulate prices. For, want of that, the people are condemned to hunger, +and people that do not eat can neither work nor be free. Third problem: +means of transport. You have the railway here, but you have neither good +highways nor good byways, and transportation is most difficult. I, +for my part, will do all I can to keep the federal government +from neglecting this region, but we must also stir up the little +municipalities to take care of their roads. + +"These three are questions that must be settled as soon as possible. + +"Water, subsistence, transportation; those are not matters of luxury, +but of necessity, matters of life. They belong to what may be called the +politics of bread. + +"I cannot make the reforms alone; first, because I have not the means; +next, because even supposing I had, if I must leave these improvements +in a township that would not look after them, not take care of them, +they would soon disappear; they would be like the canals dug by the +Moors and afterwards allowed to fill up through the neglect of +the Christians. That is what politics are needed for, to convince +reactionaries. + +"At the same time, looking toward the future, let us start the school, +which I should like to see not merely a primary school, but also a +school for working-men. + +"Let us endeavour, too, to turn the field of San Roque into a park." + +After explaining his program, Caesar called on all progressive men who +had liberal ideas and loved their city, to collaborate in his work. + +When he ended his speech, all the audience applauded violently. +Alzugaray was able to verify the fact that the majority of them had not +understood what Caesar was saying. "They didn't understand anything. A +few sparkling phrases would have pleased them much better." + +"Ah, of course. But that makes no difference," replied Caesar. "They +will get used to it." + +The inauguration over, the bookseller, San Roman, Dr. Ortigosa, Senor +Camacho, who was the pharmacist that called himself an inventor of +explosives, and some others, met in the office of the Club, and talked +with great enthusiasm of the transformation that was obviously taking +place at Castro. + + + + +XI + +THE PITFALL OF SINIGAGLIA + +A COMMISSION FOR THE MINISTER + + +A few days later, during Carnival, the Minister of the Treasury +presented himself at Caesar's hotel. The famous financier was a trifle +nervous. + +"Come along with me," he said. + +"Come on." + +They got into a motor, and the Minister suddenly asked: + +"Could you go to Paris immediately?" + +"There's nothing to prevent. What is it to do?" + +"You know that the great financier Dupont de Sarthe is studying out a +plan for restoring the value of the currency of Spain." + +"Yes." + +"Well, today the Speaker asked me several times if it was ready. It is +necessary for me to introduce it soon, as soon as possible, and along +with the plan for restoring the currency, one for the suppression of the +government tax." + +"The Speaker wishes to have these plans introduced?" + +"Yes, he wishes them introduced at once." + +"That indicates that the Conservative situation is very strong," said +Caesar. + +"Obviously." + +"And what do you want me to do?" + +"Go to Dupont de Sarthe and have him explain his scheme clearly, and +tell you the difficulties; if he has an outline of it, have him give it +to you; if not, have him give you his notes." + +"All right. Shall I go tonight?" + +"If you can, it would be the best thing." "There's nothing to prevent. +Take me back to the hotel and I will pack." + +The Minister told the chauffeur to go back to Caesar's house. + +"As soon as you arrive, let me know by wire, and write to me explaining +the scheme in the greatest possible detail." + +"Very good." + +"You will need money; I don't know if I have any here," said the +Minister, feeling for his pocket-book. + +"I have enough for the trip," replied Caesar. "But, as I might need some +in Paris, it would not be a bad idea for you to open an account for me +at a bank there, or else to give me a cheque." + +The Minister vacillated, then went into the hotel writing-room and +signed a cheque on a Parisian banker in the Rue de Provence, which he +handed to Caesar. + +"See you on your return," he said. + +"Good-bye." + +Caesar called a servant and bade him: + +"Telephone to my friend Alzugaray. You know his number. Tell him to be +here inside an hour." + +"Very good, sir." + +This arranged, Caesar went to the main door and saw that the Minister's +motor was headed for down town. Immediately he took a carriage and went +to the Chamber. The undersecretary of the Speaker was a friend of his; +sometimes he gave him advice about playing the market. + +Caesar looked him up, and when he found him, said: + +"How are we getting on?" + +"All right, man," replied the undersecretary. + +"Come over here, so I can see you in the light," said Caesar, and taking +him by the hand, he looked into his eyes. + +"It's true," said the undersecretary, laughing, "that the situation is +not very strong." + +"What is the danger?" + +"The only danger is your friend, the famous financier. He is the one who +could play us a dirty trick." + +"Do you suspect what it could be?" "No. Not clearly. You must know +better than any one else." + +"I have just seen the Minister, and he gave me the impression of being +satisfied." + +"Then everything is all right. But I haven't much confidence." + +Caesar left the undersecretary, went out of the Chamber, and returned +home in the carriage. Alzugaray was waiting in the entry for him. + +Caesar called to him from the carriage: + +"I am going to Paris," he told him, "to spend a few days." + +"Good." + +"I must draw out what money I have in the Bank." + +"Let's go there now." + +They went to the Bank, to the paying teller, and Caesar drew out twenty +thousand pesetas of his few months' winnings on the market. + +"You are not going to play at all, this month?" asked Alzugaray. + +"No, not this month." + +They left the Bank. + +"I will wire you my address in Paris," said Caesar. + +"Very good. And nothing is to be done?" + +"No. That is to say, my partner and I are not going to play. +Nevertheless, I am going to leave you two thousand pesetas, and if you +think well, you can use it as you choose." + +"All right," said Alzugaray, pleased at Caesar's confidence in his +talents for speculation. + +"In case I need any information which had best not be public," Caesar +went on, "I will wire you in code. Do you know the Aran code?" + +"No." + +"I will give it to you, directly, at my house. If you receive a telegram +from me from Paris, beginning with your name: 'Ignacio, do thus or so,' +you will know it is in the code." + +"I follow you. What's up?" + +"An affair the Minister is putting through, which we will not let him +pull off without getting our share out of him. I will explain it to you, +when I come back." + +"How long do you expect to be there?" + +"Two weeks at most; but perhaps I'll come right back." + + +INDUCTION + + +On arriving at the train, Caesar bought all the evening papers. In one +of them he found an article entitled: _The Projects of the Minister of +Finance_, and he read it carefully. + +The writer said that the Minister of Finance had never been so closely +identified with the Conservative Cabinet as at that moment; that he +had plans for a number of projects for the salvation of the Spanish +Treasury, which he would briefly explain. + +"It's a witty joke," thought Caesar. + +He was too well acquainted with the market and monetary affairs in +general, too well acquainted with the sterling worth of the famous +financier not to understand the idea of his scheme. + +Caesar knew that the Minister not only was not on good terms with his +colleagues in the Government, but was at sword's points with them, and +was moreover disposed to give up his portfolio from one day to the next. + +Whence came this haste to launch the plan for the suppression of the +government tax and restoring the value of the currency? Why did he send +him, Caesar, on this errand, and not somebody in the Department? + +His haste to launch the plan was easy to comprehend. + +The Minister was about to give a decisive impulse to all stocks; the +suppression of the affidavit and the restoring the value of the currency +would shove up domestic paper in Spain and foreign stocks in France to +extraordinary heights. Then a difficulty with the Speaker, a moment of +anger, such as was to be expected in a character like the Minister's, +would oblige him to offer his resignation ... prices would take a +terrible drop, and the Minister, having already planned for a big bear +scoop in Paris, would clear some hundreds of thousands of francs and +keep his reputation as a patriot and an excellent financier. + +Why was he sending Caesar? No doubt because he suspected his secretary, +whom he had probably given similar missions to previously. + +Caesar knew the Minister well. He had described him in his notes in +these words: "He is dark and brachicephalic; a man of tradition and +good common sense; average intellect, astute, a good father and a good +Catholic. He believes himself cleverer than he really is. His two +leading passions are vanity and money." + +Caesar knew the Minister, but the Minister did not know Caesar. He +imagined him to be a man of brilliant intellect, but incapable of +grasping realities. + +After thinking a long while over the business, while he was undressing +to go to bed in the sleeping-car, Caesar said: + +"There is only one thing to find out. Who is the Minister's broker in +Paris, and who is his banker? With Yarza's assistance that is not going +to be difficult for me to ascertain. When we know what broker he works +through and what banker, the affair is finished." + +Having concluded thus, he got into his berth, put out the light, and lay +there dozing. + + +IN PARIS + + +On arriving at Paris next evening, he left his luggage in the hotel at +the Quai d'Orsay station. He wired his address to the Minister and to +Alzugaray, and went out at once to look for Carlos Yarza. He was unable +to find him until very late at night. He explained to his friend what +had brought him, and Yarza told him he was at his disposition. + +"When you need me, let me know." + +"Good." + +Caesar went off to bed, and the next morning he proceeded to the +banking-house in the Rue de Provence where he was to cash the cheque +handed him by the Minister of the Treasury. + +He entered the bank and asked for the president. A clerk came out and +Caesar explained to him that on arriving at his hotel he had missed a +cheque for three thousand francs from the Spanish Minister of Finance. +He introduced himself as a Deputy, as an intimate friend of the +Minister's, and behaved as if much vexed. The department manager told +him that they could do no more than take the number and not pay the +cheque if anybody presented it for payment. + +"You don't handle the Minister's business here?" asked Caesar. + +"No, only very rarely," said the manager. + +"You don't know who his regular banker is?" + +"No; I will ask, because it is very possible that the chief may know." + +The clerk went out and came back a little later, informing Caesar that +they said the house the Spanish Minister of Finance did his banking with +was Recquillart and Company, Rue Bergere. + +The street was near at hand, and it took Caesar only a very little while +to get there. The building was dark, lighted by electricity even in the +daytime, one of those classic corners where Jewish usurers amass great +fortunes. + +There was no question of employing the same ruse as in the Rue de +Provence, and Caesar thought of another. + +He asked for M. Recquillart, and out came a heavy gentleman, a blond +going grey, with a rosy cranium and gold eyeglasses. + +Caesar told him he was secretary to a rich Spanish miner, who was then +in Paris. That gentleman wanted to try some business on the Bourse, but +was unable to come to the bank because he was ill of the dropsy. + +"Who recommended our house to this gentleman?" asked the banker. + +"I think it was the Minister of Finance, in Spain." + +"Ah, yes, very good, very good! And how are we to communicate with him? +Through you?" + +"No. He told me he would prefer to have a clerk who knows Spanish come +to him and take his orders." "That is all right; one shall go. We +happen to have a Spanish clerk. At what hour shall he come?" said M. +Recquillart, taking out a pencil. + +"At nine in the evening." + +"For whom shall he ask?" + +"For Senor Perez Cuesta." + +"At what hotel?" + +"The one in the Quai d'Orsay station." + +"Very good indeed." + +Caesar bowed; and after he had sent Yarza a telephone message, making +an appointment for after the Bourse at the Cafe Riche, he took an +automobile and went to hunt for the great financier Dupont de Sarthe, +who lived on the other bank of the Seine, near the Montparnasse station. + +He had a large, sumptuous office, with an enormous library. Two +secretaries were at work at small tables placed in front of the +balconies, and the master wrote at a big Ministerial table full of +books. When Caesar introduced himself, the great economist rose, offered +his hand, and in a sharp voice with a Parisian accent, asked what he +desired. + +Caesar told him the Minister's request, and the great economist became +indignant. + +"Does that gentleman imagine that I am at his bidding, to begin a piece +of work and stop it according as it suits him, and take it up again when +he orders? No, tell him no. Tell him the scheme he asked me for is not +done, not finished; that I cannot give him any data or any information +at all." + +In view of the great man's indignation, Caesar made no reply, but left +the house. He lunched at his hotel, gave orders that if any one brought +a letter or message for Senor Perez Cuesta they should receive it, and +went again to the Rue de Provence, where he said he had had the good +luck to find his cheque. + +With all these goings and comings it got to be three o'clock, and Caesar +turned his steps toward the Cafe Riche. Yarza was there and the two +talked a long while. Yarza knew of the manoeuvres of the Minister of +Finance, and he gave his opinion about them with great knowledge of the +business questions. He also knew Recquillart's clerk, the Catalan Pujol, +of whom he had not a very good opinion. + +The two friends made an engagement for the next day and Caesar +hurried to his hotel. He wrote to the Minister, telling him what the +fundamentals of Dupont de Sarthe's project were; and between his own +ideas and those Yarza had expounded to him, he was able to draw up a +complete enough plan. + +"The Minister being a man who knows nothing about all this," thought +Caesar, "when he understands that the ideas I expound are those of the +celebrated Dupont de Sarthe, will find them wonderful." + + +RECQUILLART'S CLERK + + +After having written his letter and taken a little tea, he lay stretched +out on a divan, until they brought him word that a young man was asking +for Senor Perez Cuesta. + +"Send him up." + +Senor Puchol entered, a dark little man who wore a morning-coat and had +a hat with a flat brim edged with braid. + +Caesar greeted him affably and made him sit down. + +"But are you not Spanish?" Caesar asked him. + +"Yes, I was born in Barcelona." + +"I should have taken you for a Frenchman." + +"In dress and everything else, I am a complete Parisian." + +"This poor man is full of vanity," thought Caesar. "All the better." He +immediately began to explain the affair. + +"Look," he said, "the whole matter is this: the Spanish Minister of +Finance, my chief, has dealings on a large scale with the Recquillart +bank; you know that, and so do I; but the Recquillarts, besides charging +an inflated commission, interfere in his buying and selling with so +little cleverness, that whenever he buys, it turns out that he bought +for more than the market price of the security, and whenever he sells, +he sells lower than the quotation. The Minister does not wish to break +off with the Recquillarts...." + +"He can't, you meant to say," replied Puchol, in an insinuating manner. +"Since you know the situation..." responded Caesar. + +"Oughtn't I to?" + +"Since you know the whole situation," continued Caesar, "I will say that +he cannot indeed break off with the Recquillarts, but the Minister would +like to do business with somebody else, without passing under the yoke +of the chief." + +"He ought to make arrangements with another broker here," said Puchol. + +"Ah, certainly. I have brought some twenty thousand francs with that +object." + +"Then there is no difficulty." + +"But we need a go-between. The Minister doesn't care to turn to the +first banker at hand and explain all his combinations to him." + +"That's where I come in." + +"Good, but we must know beforehand how much you are to get. Your +demands may be such that it would be better for him to stick to the +Recquillarts." + +"Recquillart gets ten percent of the profits, besides a small commission +as broker. I will take five." + +"It's a good deal." + +"I will not accept less; the arrangement might cost me my career. +Consult him...." + +"If I could consult him! The truth is that there may not be time. We +will accept five." + +"What does the Minister wish to speculate in? The same things as with +Recquillart? Foreign Loans and Northerns?" + +"Exactly. Just as before." + +"All right. The investment, as you can see, is safe," Puchol continued. +"I would put my fortune in it, if I had one. There are a lot of +newspapers bought; all the financial reviews are predicting a rise." + +The clerk took out a folded review and handed it to Caesar, who read: + +"We are assured that the plan of the Spanish Minister of Finance must +make foreign securities rise considerably. Northerns will follow the +same path, and there are indications that their rise will be very rapid +and will cover several points." + +"The field is going to be covered with corpses," said Caesar. + +Senor Puchol burst out laughing; Caesar invited him to dine with him, +and gave him a sumptuous dinner with good wines. + +Puchol was absolutely vain, and he boasted of his triumphs on the +Bourse; it was he who guided Recquillart in the dealings he had with +Spaniards, in which they had plucked various incautious persons. + +"How much will the Minister's operation amount to?" Caesar asked him. + +"Nobody can prevent his making three hundred thousand, at the least. +With the increase he has ordered you to make, it will come to six +hundred thousand. We will gobble up the two points it falls." + +"I don't know if there may have been some new order while I was in the +train coming to Paris," said Caesar. + +"No, his operation is all arranged," replied Puchol, and he got out a +note-book and consulted it. "It will be like giving away bread. We are +going to sell ten millions of Foreigns and five hundred Northerns on the +seventeenth, the eighteenth, and the twentieth." + +"And the scoop will take place?" asked Caesar. + +"On the 27th." + +"So that on those days we shall sell just as much again?" + +"And we shall sell much dearer." + +They dropped that point and talked of other things. + +Senor Puchol was a literary man and was writing a symbolistic drama +which he wanted to read to Caesar. + +At twelve they said good-night. Puchol was to tell his chief that he had +not been able to do any business with Senor Perez Cuesta. In respect to +the other matter, they had an engagement for ten the next morning at a +cafe in the neighbourhood of the Bourse. + +There were no great difficulties to overcome. They saw a broker named +Mueller. Caesar entrusted him with his twenty thousand francs, and hinted +that the speculation was being made for some rich people, who would +have no objection to making up any loss, if he should exceed the twenty +thousand francs. + +The broker told him he could play whatsoever sum he wished. + +As Caesar had not entire confidence in Puchol, and did not care either +to tell the broker that he was to begin only when the stocks fell, he +brought Yarza into the deal. + +Puchol was to say to Yarza: "The Minister has given the order to sell"; +and Yarza would first verify this, if he could verify it; then he would +tell the broker: "Sell." It might go as far as handling twenty millions +of Foreigns and up to a thousand of Northerns. + +In order to get all the ends well tied up, Caesar had to get from one +place to another without a moment's rest. + + +IN MADRID + + +The trap being set, Caesar took the train, worn out and feverish. He +arrived at Madrid, took a bath, and went to see the Minister; and after +the interview went to his house in the Calle de Galileo and spent two +days in bed, alone in the completest silence. + +The third day Alzugaray arrived, anxious. + +"What's the matter? Are you sick?" he asked. + +"No. How did you know I was here?" + +"Your janitress came to my house to tell me you were in bed." + +"Well, there's nothing wrong with me, boy." + +"You should know that there's a splendid chance to make some money, +today." + +"My dear fellow!" + +"Yes, and we haven't done anything in the market, except one miserable +little operation." + +"And why do you think there is such a good chance?" + +"Because there is, because everybody can see it," said Alzugaray. +"Prices are going to rise with this project of the Minister of +Finance's; they are going in for a big deal; everybody has been +indiscreet, without meaning to be, and people on the market are buying +and buying. Everybody is sure of a rise ... and we are doing nothing." + +"We are doing nothing," repeated Caesar. + +"But it is absurd." + +"What's the date?" + +"The twenty-second." + +"The evening of the twenty-seventh we will talk." + +"How mysterious you are, boy." + +"I can't tell you any more now. If you have bought anything, sell it." + +"But why?" + +"I can't tell you." + +"All right, when you get on these sibylline airs, I say no more. Another +thing. Various gentlemen have come to tell me that they wanted to play +the market; they have heard that it is about to go up...." + +"Who were they?" + +"Among others, Amparito's father and Don Calixto Garcia Guerrero." + +"If they wish to give security, tell our broker, and I will sell them +anything they want to buy." + +"Really?" + +"Really. I have my reasons for doing it." + +"This time we are all going to make, except you." + +"Dear Ignacio, I am at Sinigaglia." + +"What does that mean?" + +"If you have a moment free, read the history of the Borgias," murmured +Caesar, turning over in bed. + +The next few days Caesar lived in constant intranquillity. Yarza +telegraphed him, saying that they had done the whole operation. On the +27th, in the afternoon, Caesar wandered toward the Calle de Alcala; +Madrid wore its normal aspect; the newspaper boys were calling no +extras. More worried than he liked, Caesar went for his walk by the +Canalillo and then shut himself in his house. In the evening he went out +breathless and bought the newspapers. His first impression was one of +panic; there was nothing; on reaching the third page he uttered an +exclamation and smiled. The Minister of Finance had just offered his +resignation. + +The next morning Caesar went to the hotel in the Carrera de San Jeronimo +where he had a room, and in the afternoon to the Chamber. He telephoned +to Alzugaray to come and see him after the exchange closed. + +Alzugaray arrived, looking pale, in company with Amparito's father, Don +Calixto, and the broker. They were all wretched. The news was horrible. +Domestics had fallen two points and were still falling; in Paris the +Foreign Loan had fallen more than four; Northern was not falling but +tumbling to the bottom of a precipice. + +"Did you know that the Minister was going to present his resignation?" +asked the broker, in despair. + +"I, no. How should I know it? Even the Minister himself couldn't have +known it yesterday. But I had scientific data for not believing in that +rise." + +"I am ruined," exclaimed the broker. "I have lost my savings." + +Don Calixto and Amparito's father had also lost very large sums, which +Caesar won, and they were disconsolate. + +When they were gone and only Alzugaray remained, he said to Caesar: + +"And you have played in Paris, too, probably." + +"Yes." + +"On a fall?" + +"Certainly." + +"You are a bandit." + +"This game, my dear Ignacio, based solely on events, is not a +speculator's game, but is, simply, a hold-up. The other day I told you: +'I am at Sinigaglia.' Did you read the history of Caesar Borgia?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, what he did at Sinigaglia to the _condottieri_, to Vittellozzo, +Oliverotto da Fermo, and his other two captain-adventurers, I have done +to the Minister of Finance, to Don Calixto, Amparito's father, and many +others." And Caesar explained his game. Alzugaray was amazed. + +"How much have you made?" + +"From what these telegrams say, I think I shall go over half a million +francs. From those beginners, Don Calixto and Amparito's father, I think +I have made forty thousand pesetas." + +"What an atrocious person! If the Minister should find out about your +game." + +"Let him find out. I am not worried. The famous financier, in addition +to being an idiot, is an honourable rogue. He plays the market with +the object of enriching himself and leaving a fortune to his repugnant +children. I, on the other hand, play it with a patriotic object." + +The matter didn't rest there: Puchol, carried away by an easily +comprehensible desire for lucre, and thinking it brought the same amount +to the famous financier whether he played through Recquillart or through +Muller, had made the last bid for the Minister through the new broker. + +The Minister's winnings diminished considerably and Caesar's gained in +proportion. The illustrious financier, on learning what had happened, +shrieked to heaven; but he said nothing, because of the secret +transaction they had had together. Puchol was dismissed by Recquillart, +and with the thirty thousand francs he collected from Caesar he set up +for himself. + +The Minister, a little later, went to Biarritz, to collect his share. +On his return he sent Caesar a note, unsigned and written on the +type-writer. It read: + +"I did not think you had enough ability for cheating. Another time I +will be more careful." + +Caesar replied in the same manner, as follows: + +"When it's a question of a man who, besides being an idiot, is a poor +creature and a cheat like you, I have no scruple in robbing him first +and despising him afterwards." + +Some days later Caesar published an article attacking the retiring +Minister of Finance and disclosing a lot of data and figures. + +The Minister answered with a letter in a Conservative paper, in which +he denied everything Caesar alleged, and said, with contempt, that +questions of Finance were not to be treated by "amateurs." + +Caesar said that he considered himself insulted by the Minister's words, +whom, however, he admired as a financier; and a few months later he +joined the Liberal party and was received with open arms by its famous +chief. + + +XII + +LOCAL STRUGGLES + +THE WATER SUPPLY + + +Caesar had money in abundance, and he decided to exert a decisive +influence on Castro Duro. + +For a long while he had had various projects planned. + +He thought it was an appropriate moment to put them into practice. + +The first that he tried to carry out was the water supply. + +The Municipality had a plan for this in the archives, and Caesar asked +for it to study. The scheme was big and expensive; the stream it was +necessary to harness so as to bring it to Castro, was far away. Besides +it was requisite to construct a piping system or an aqueduct. + +Caesar consulted an engineer, who told him: + +"From a business point of view, this is very poor. Even if you use +the superfluous water, in a factory for instance, it will give you no +results." + +"What shall we do then?" + +"The simplest thing would be to put in a pumping plant and pump up the +river water." + +"But it is infected water, full of impurities." + +"It can be purified by filtering. That's not difficult." + +Caesar laid this plan before the Municipality, and it was decided to +carry it out, as the most practical and practicable. A company was +formed to pump up the water, and work was begun. + +The stockholders were almost all rich people of Castro, and the company +drew up its constitution in such a manner that the town got scarcely any +benefit out of it. They were not going to instal more than two public +fountains inside the city limits, and those were to run only a few +hours. Caesar tried to convince them that this was absurd, but nobody +paid any attention to him. + + +THE LIBRARY + + +A bit disappointed, he left the "Water Pumping Company" to go its way, +and devoted himself entirely to things that he could carry out alone. + +The first one he tried was establishing a circulating library of +technical books on trades and agriculture, and of polite and scientific +literature, in the Workmen's Club. + +"They will sell the books," everybody said; "they will get them all +soiled, and tear out the leaves...." + +Caesar had the volumes bound, and at the end of each he had ten or +twelve blank sheets put in, in case the reader wished to write notes. + +The experiment began; predictions were not fulfilled; the books came +back to the library untorn and unspotted and with some very ingenuous +notes in them. Lots of people took out books. + +The clerical element immediately protested; the priests said in the +pulpit that to send any chance book to working people's houses without +examining it first, was to lead people into error. Dr. Ortigosa retorted +that Science did not need the approval of sacristans. As, in spite +of the clerical element's advice, people kept on reading, there were +various persons that took out books and filled them with obscene +drawings and tore out illustrations. Dr. Ortigosa sent Caesar a letter +informing him what was happening, and Caesar answered that he must limit +the distribution of books to the members of the Workmen's Club and +people that were known. He bade him replace the six or seven books +abused, and continued to send new ones. + +The ferment kept the city stirred up; there were no end of heated +discussions; lectures were given in the Club, and Dr. Ortigosa's paper, +_The Protest_, came to life again. + +"I am with you in whatever will agitate the people's ideas," wrote +Caesar; "but if they start to play orators and revolutionists, and +you folks come along with pedantic notions, then I for my part shall +drop the whole thing." + +When Caesar was in Castro, he spent his evenings at the Workmen's Club. +They gave moving pictures and frequent balls. Caesar did not miss one of +the Club's entertainments. The men came to him for advice, and the +girls and the little boys bowed to him affectionately. There was great +enthusiasm over him. + + +THE BENEVOLENT SOCIETY + + +Shortly after the initiation of these improvements in the Club, there +appeared in Castro Duro, without fuss, without noise, two rather +mysterious societies; the Benevolent Society of Saint Joseph and the +Agricultural Fund. In an instant the Benevolent Society of Saint Joseph +had a numerous array of members and patrons. All the great landholders +of the region, including Amparito's father, bound themselves to employ +no labourers except those belonging to the Benevolent Society. In the +neighbouring villages the inhabitants joined _en masse_. At the same +time as this important society, Father Martin and his friends founded +the Castrian Agricultural Fund, whose purpose was to make loans, at a +low rate of interest, to small proprietors. + +The two Catholic institutions set themselves up in rivalry to the +Workmen's institution. The town was divided; the Catholics were more +numerous and richer; the Liberals more determined and enthusiastic. The +Catholics had given their upholders a resigned character. + +Moreover, the name Catholic applied to the members of the two Clerical +societies made those who did not belong to them admit with great +tranquillity that _they_ were not Catholics. + +The Clericals called their enemies Moncadists, and by implication +Schismatics, Atheists, and Anarchists. Inside the town there was a +Moncadist majority; in the environs everybody was a Catholic and +belonged to the Benevolent Society. + +Generally the Catholics were abused in word and deed by the Moncadists; +the members of the Workmen's Club held those of the Benevolent Society +for cowards and traitors. Doubtless Father Martin did not wish that +his followers should be distinguished by Christian meekness, and he +appointed a bully whom people called "Driveller" Juan warden of the +Benevolent Society. This Juan was a lad who lived without working; his +mother and his sisters were dressmakers, and he bled them for money, and +spent his life in taverns and gambling-dens. + +"Driveller" began to insult members of the club, especially the boys, +and to defy them, on any pretext. Dr. Ortigosa went to see Caesar and +explained the situation. "Driveller" was a coward, he didn't venture +beyond a few peaceable workmen; but if he had defied "Furibis" or +"Panza" or any of the railway men that belonged to the Club, they +would have given him what he deserved. But in spite of "Driveller's" +cowardice, he inspired terror among the young boys and apprentices. + +Dr. Ortigosa was in favour of getting another bully, who could undertake +the job of cutting out "Driveller's" guts. + +"Whom are we to get?" asked Caesar. + +"We know somebody," said Ortigosa. + +"Who is it?" + +"' El Montes.'" + +"What kind of a party is he?" + +"A bandit like the other, but braver." + +_BANDITS_ + +"El Montes" had just come out of Ocana. + +He was a Manchegan, tall, strong, robust, and had been in the +penitentiary several times. + +"And how do we manage 'El Montes'?" asked Caesar. + +"We make him a servant at the Workmen's Club." + +"He will corrupt the place." + +"Yes, that's true. Then at the right moment we shall send him to the +Cafe del Comercio. They gamble at that cafe; he can go there and in two +or three days call a halt on 'Driveller' Juan." "Good." + +"We must arrange for you to dismiss the new judge and put in some friend +of yours, and one fine day we will get a quarrel started and we will put +all Father Martin's friends in jail." + +"You two play atrocious politics," said Alzugaray, who was listening to +the conversation. + +"It's the only kind that will work," replied Ortigosa. "This is +scientific politics. Ruffianism converted into philosophy. We are +playing a game of chess with Father Martin and we are going to see if we +can't win it." + +"But, man, employing all these cut-throats!" + +"My dear friend," responded Caesar, "political situations include such +things; with their heads they touch the noblest things, the safety of +one's native land and the race; with their feet they touch the meanest +things, plots, vices, crimes. A politician of today still has to mingle +with reptiles, even though he be an honourable man." + +"Besides, we need have no scruples," added Ortigosa; "the inhabitants of +Castro are laboratory guinea-pigs. We are going to experiment on them, +we are going to see if they can stand the Liberal serum." + +* * * * * + +_THE TWO ASYLUMS_ + +A little after these rivalries between the Benevolent Society and the +Workmen's Club, which stirred up every one's passions to an extreme +never before known at Castro Duro, another motive for agitation +transpired. + +There were two asylums in the town; the Municipal Aid and the Asylum of +the Little Sisters of the Poor. + +The Municipal Aid had its own property and was wisely organized; the old +people were permitted to go out of the asylum, they had no uniform, and +from time to time they were allowed to drink a glass of something. In +the Little Sisters' Home, on the contrary, discipline was most severe; +all the inmates had to go dressed in a horrible uniform, which the +poor hated; to be present, like a chorus, at the funerals of important +persons; pray at every step; and besides all that, they were forbidden +under pain of expulsion, to smoke or to drink anything. + +So the result was that there were abandoned old wretches, who, if they +couldn't get a place in the Aid, let themselves die in some corner, +rather than put on the uniform of the Little Sisters' Home, degrading in +their eyes. + +That asylum had no income, because its Catholic managers had eaten it +all up. In view of the institution's bad economic condition, it occurred +to Father Martin to consolidate the two; to make one asylum of the +municipal and the religious, and to put it under the strict rule of the +religious one. What Father Martin wanted was that the Little Sisters +should have a finger in the whole thing, and that the income of one +institution should serve for both. + +Caesar threatened the mayor with dismissal if he accepted the +arrangement, and insisted that the Liberal councilmen should not permit +the fusion, which was to the great advantage of the Clerical party. + +As a matter of fact, the plan came to nothing, and Caesar treated the +Municipal Aid to two barrels of wine and tobacco in abundance, which +aroused great enthusiasm among the old people, who cheered for the +Deputy of their District. + +Caesar rode over the situation on horseback; but the Clerical campaign +strengthened at the same rate that popular sympathies went out toward +him. In almost every sermon there were allusions to the immorality and +the irreligion that reigned in the town. The support of the women was +sought and they were exhorted to influence their husbands, brothers, and +sons to resign from the Workmen's Club. + +The old pulpit oratory began to seem mild, and on the feast of the +Virgin of the Rock, a young preacher launched out, in the church, into +an eloquent, violent, and despotic sermon in which he threatened eternal +suffering to those who belonged to heretical clubs and would not return +to the loving bosom of the Church. The homily caused the greatest +impression, and there were a few unhappy mortals who, some days later, +were reported as dead or missing at the Workmen's Club. + + + + +XIII + +AMPARITO IN ACTION + +_LAURA AT CASTRO_ + + +A time for new elections arrived, and Caesar stood for Castro Duro. Don +Calixto, who had married his two daughters and was bored at not being +allowed to pull the strings in the town, decided to move to Madrid. +First he had thought of spending only some time at the capital, but +later he decided to stay there and he had his furniture sent down. + +People said that Don Calixto had no great affection for the old palace +of the Dukes of Castro, and Caesar proposed that he should rent the +house to him. + +Don Calixto hesitated; in Castro he would certainly have refused, but +being in Madrid he accepted. His wife advised him that if he had any +scruples, he should ask more rent. They came to the agreement that +Caesar should pay three thousand pesetas a year for the part Don Calixto +had formerly inhabited. + +This time Caesar had the election won, and there was not the slightest +fight. He was the boss of Castro, a good boss, accepted by everybody, +save the Clericals. + +Caesar had money, and he wrote to his sister to come and see him at +Castro in his seigniorial mansion. Laura arrived at Madrid in the +autumn, and the two went to Castro together. + +Laura's appearance in the town created a great sensation. At first +people said she was Caesar's wife. Others said she was an actress; until +finally everybody understood that she was his sister. + +Laura really took undue advantage of her superiority. She was +irresistibly amiable and bewitching with everybody. The majority of the +men in Castro Duro talked of nothing but her, and the women hated her to +the death. + +Being a marchioness, a Cardinal's niece, and a Deputy's sister, gave +her, besides, a terrible social prestige. + +One person who clung to her, enchanted to have such a friend, was +Amparito. She went to the palace in her motor at all hours, to see Laura +and chat with her. In the afternoon the two of them used to walk in +Amparito's father's property, where the labourers, who were threshing, +received them like queens. + +What enchanted Laura was the wild garden at Don Calixto's house, with +its pomegranates and laurels, its tower above the river, full of +climbing plants and oleanders. + +"You ought to buy this house," she used to tell Caesar. + +"It would cost a good deal." + +"Pshaw! You could arrange that wonderfully. You would get married and +live here like a prince." + +"Get married?" + +"Yes. To Amparito. That young thing is enchanting. + +"She will make a splendid little wife. Even for your respectability as a +Deputy, it would be fitting to marry. A bachelor politician has a poor +look." + +Caesar paid no attention to these suggestions and continued to lead +an unsocial life. He covered the environs on horseback, found out +everything that was going on and settled it. In this he set himself +an enormous task, which was not notable for results; but he hoped to +succeed in conquering the district completely, and then to extend his +sphere of action to others and yet others. + +After being a fortnight in Castro Duro, Laura went to Biarritz, as was +her custom every year. + + +AMPARITO AND CAESAR + + +Caesar was left alone. He had seen Amparito with his sister many times +but had scarcely ever exchanged more than a few words with her. One +afternoon Caesar was in the gallery in an arm-chair, with his feet high. +He felt melancholy and lazy, and was watching the clouds move across the +sky. Soon he heard steps, and saw Amparito with an old servant who had +been her nurse. + +Caesar jumped up. + +"What's the matter?" he exclaimed. + +"I came to get something Laura forgot," said Amparito. + +"She forgot something?" asked Caesar stupidly. + +"Yes," replied Amparito; and added, addressing the old woman: + +"Go see if there is a little glass box in Senorita Laura's room." + +The old woman went out, and Amparito, looking at Caesar, who was on his +feet watching her nervously, said: + +"Do you still hate me?" + +"I?" exclaimed Caesar. + +"Yes, you do hate me." + +"I! I have never hated you.... Quite the contrary." + +"Whenever you see me you get away, and just now you looked at me as +if you were terrified. Have you such a grudge against me for a joke I +played on you long ago?" + +"I, a grudge! No. It is because I have the impression, Amparito, that +you want to upset my plans, to make game of me. Why do you?" + +"Do you think I try to amuse myself by worrying you?" + +"Yes." + +"No, that isn't true. You don't think so." + +"Then why this constant inclination to distress me, to poke fun at me?" + +"I never poked fun at you." + +"Then I have made a mistake.... I had come to think that you took some +interest in me." + +"And so I did. I did take an interest in you, and I keep on taking an +interest in you." + +"And why so?" + +"Because I see that you are unhappy, and you are alone." + +"Ah! You are sorry for me!" "Now you are offended. Yes, I am sorry for +you." + +"Sorry!" + +"Yes, sorry. Because I see that you despise everybody and despise +yourself, because you think people are bad, and that you are too, and to +me this seems so sad that it makes me pity you deeply." + +Caesar began to walk up and down the gallery, trembling a little. + +"I don't see why you say this to me," he murmured. "I am a morbid man, +with an ulcerated, wounded spirit.... I know that. But why say it to me? +Do you take pleasure in humiliating me?" + +"No, Caesar," said Amparito, drawing near him. "You don't believe that I +take pleasure in humiliating you. No, you know well that I do not." + +On saying this, Amparito burst into tears, and she had to lean against +the gallery window, to hide her face and dissemble her emotion. + +Caesar took her hand, and as she did not turn her head, he seized her +other, too. She looked at him with her eyes shining and full of tears; +and in that look there was so much attachment, so much distress, that +Caesar felt a weakness in his whole frame. Then, taking Amparito's head +between his hands, he kissed it several times. + +She leaned her head on Caesar's shoulder and stood pressed against him, +sobbing. Caesar felt a sensation of anguish and pain, as if within the +depths of his soul, the strongest part of his personality had broken and +melted. + +They heard the footsteps of the old woman, coming back to say that she +had found nothing in the room Laura had occupied during her stay. + +Amparito dried her tears, and smiled, and her face was redder than +usual. Presently she said to the nurse: + +"Probably you didn't look well. I am going to go myself." + +Amparito went out. + +Caesar was pale and absorbed; he felt that something extraordinary +had happened to him. His hands trembled and things swam around him. + +In a short while Amparito returned. She had a round glass box in her +hand, which she said she had found in Laura's room. + +"This afternoon I am going to Our Lady of the Rock," said Amparito. +"Will you come, Caesar?" + +"Yes." + +"Then, good-bye till then." + +Amparito gave him her hand, and Caesar kissed it. The old servant was +dumfounded. Amparito burst out laughing. + +"He is my beau. Hadn't you noticed it before?" + +"No," said the old woman with a gesture of violent negation. + +Amparito laughed again and disappeared. + +The first days of his engagement Caesar was constantly in-tranquil and +uneasy. He kept thinking that it was impossible to live like that, +giving his whole attention to nothing except the desires of a girl. He +imagined that the awakening would come from one moment to the next; but +the awakening didn't arrive. + +By degrees Caesar abandoned all the affairs of the district, which had +taken all his attention, and took to occupying himself solely with his +sweetheart. The whole town knew their relations and talked of the coming +wedding. + +That dazzling idyll intrigued all the girls in Castro. The truth was +that none of them had considered Caesar a marrying man; some had +imagined him already old; others an experienced and vicious bachelor, +incapable of yielding to the matrimonial yoke; and now they saw him a +youth, of distinguished type, with distinguished manners and looks. + +Caesar went almost daily to Amparito's father's country-place. It was +a magnificent estate, another ancient property of the Dukes of Castro +Duro, with a house adorned with escutcheons, and an extensive stone +pool, deep and mysterious. The garden did not resemble that at Don +Calixto's house, for that one was of a frantic gaiety, and the one on +Amparito's father's estate was very melancholy. Above all, the square of +water in the pool, whose edges were decorated with great granite vases, +had a mysterious, sad aspect. + +"Doesn't it make you very sad to look at this deep water in the pool?" +Caesar asked his fiancee. + +"No, it doesn't me." + +"It does me." + +"Because you are a poet," she said, "and I am not; I am very prosaic." + +"Really?" + +"Yes." + +The more Caesar talked with Amparito, the less he understood her and the +more he needed to be with her. + +"We really do not think the same about anything," Caesar used to tell +himself, "and yet we understand each other." + +Many times he endeavoured to make a psychological resume of Amparito's +character, but he didn't succeed. He didn't know how to classify her; +her type always escaped him. + +"All her notions are different from mine," he used to think; "she speaks +in another way, feels in another way, she even has a different moral +code. How strange!" + +Also, what Amparito knew was completely heterogeneous; she spoke French +well and wrote it fairly correctly; in Spanish, on the other hand, she +had no idea of spelling. Caesar was always stupefied on seeing the +transpositions of h's, s's, and z's that she made in her letters. + +There remained by Amparito, from her passage through the French school, +a recollection of the history of France made up of a few anecdotes and a +few phrases. Thus, it was not unusual to hear her speak of Turenne, +of Francis I, or of Colbert. For the rest, she played the piano badly +enough and with extremely little enthusiasm. + +This was the part belonging to her education as a rich young lady; that +which belonged to the country girl, who lived among peasants, was more +curious and personal. + +She knew many plants by their vulgar names, and understood their +industrial and medicinal use. Besides, she spoke in such pure, natural +phrases that Caesar was filled with admiration. + +Caesar had reached such a degree of exaltation that he thought of +nothing any more, except his sweetheart. At night, before going to +sleep, he thought of her deliriously. He often dreamed that Amparito had +changed into the red-flowered oleander of the wild palace garden, and +in every flower of the oleander he used to see Amparito's red lips and +white teeth. + + + + +XIV + +INTRANSIGENCE LOST + +DISQUIET DISAPPEARS + + +The wedding took place and Caesar had to compromise about a lot of +things. It didn't trouble him to confess and receive communion; he +considered those mere customs, and went to the church of the Plain to +conform to these practices with the old priest who was a friend of +Amparito's. + +On the other hand, it did bother Caesar to have to suffer Father Martin +in his house, who allowed himself to talk and give advice; and he +was also irritated by the presence of certain persons who considered +themselves aristocrats and who came to call on him and point out to him +that it was now time to give up the rabble and the indigent and to rise +to their level. + +If he had not had so much to think about as he did have, he would have +found this a good chance to show his aggressive humour; but all his +attention was fixed on Amparito. + +The newly married pair spent the first days of their honeymoon at +Castro; then they went to Madrid, with the intention of going abroad, +and afterwards they went back to the town. + +The old palace of the Dukes of Castro was witness to their idyll. + +At the end of some time Caesar felt tranquil, perhaps too tranquil. + +"This, no doubt, is what is called being happy," he used to say to +himself. And being happy gave him the impression of a limbo; he felt +as though his old personality was dying within him. He could no longer +recover his former way of life; all his disquietudes had vanished. He +felt that he was balanced, lacking those alternations of courage and +cowardice which had previously formed the characteristic thing in him. +It was the oasis after the desert; the calm that follows the storm. + +Caesar wondered if he had acquired new nerves. His instinct to be +arbitrary was on the downward track. + +He could not easily determine what role his wife played in his inner +life. He felt the necessity of having her beside him, of talking to her; +but he did not understand whether this was mere selfishness, for the +sake of the soothing effect her presence produced, or was for the +satisfaction of his vanity in seeing how she gave all her thought to +him. + +Spiritually he did not feel her either identified with him or strange to +him; her soul marched along as if parallel to his, but in other paths. + +"All that men say about women is completely false," Caesar used to +think, "and what women say about themselves, equally so, because they +merely repeat what men say. Only when they are completely emancipated +will they succeed in understanding themselves. It is indubitable that we +have not the same leading ideas, or the same points of view. Probably we +have not a similar moral sense either. Neither is woman made for man, +nor man for woman. There is necessity between them, not harmony." + +Many times, watching Amparito, he told himself: + +"There is some sort of machinery in her head that I do not understand." + +Noting his scrutinizing gaze, she would ask him: + +"What are you thinking about me?" + +He would explain his perplexities, and she would laugh. + + +SYMPATHY + +Indubitably, there existed an instinctive accord of the sentiments +between Amparito and him, an organic sympathy. She could feel for them +both, but he could not think for them both; each mental machine ran in +isolation, like two watches, which do not hear each other. She knew +whether Caesar was sad or joyful, disheartened or spirited, merely by +looking at him. She had no need to ask him; she could read Caesar's +face. He could not, on his side, understand what went on behind that +little forehead and those moist and sparkling eyes. + +"Are you feeling happy? Are you feeling sad?" he would ask her. He could +not reach the point of knowing by himself. + +"I never succeed in knowing what you want," he sometimes said to her, +bitterly. + +"Why, you always succeed," she used to reply. + +Caesar often wondered if the role of being so much loved, whether wrong +or right, was an absurd, offensive thing. In all great affections there +is one peculiarity; if one loves a person, one gets to the point of +changing that person to an idol inside oneself, and from that moment +it seems that the person divides into the unreal idol, which is like a +false picture of the adored one, and the living being, who resembles the +idolized object very slightly. + +Caesar found something absurd in being loved like that. Besides, he +found that she was dragging him away from himself. After six months of +marriage, she was making him change his ideas and his way of life, and +he was having absolutely no influence on her. + +Previously he had often thought that if he lived with a woman, he should +prefer one that was spiritually foreign to him, who should look on him +like a rare plant, not with one that would want to identify herself with +his tastes and his sympathies. + +With a somewhat hostile woman he would have felt an inclination to be +voluble and contradictory; with a sympathetic woman, on the contrary, he +would have seemed to himself like a circus runner whom one of his pupils +is trying to overtake, and who has to run hard to keep the record where +it belongs. + +But his wife was neither one nor the other. + +Amparito had an extraordinary insouciance, gaiety, facility, in +accepting life. Caesar never ceased being amazed. She spent her days +working, talking, singing. The slightest diversion enchanted her, +the most insignificant gift aroused a lively satisfaction. + +"Everything is decided, as far as you are concerned," Caesar used, to +tell her. + +"By what?" + +"By your character." + +She laughed at that. + +It seemed as if she had chosen the best attitude toward life. She saw +that her husband was not religious, but she considered that an attribute +of men, and thought that God must have an especial complacency toward +husbands, if only so as not to leave wives alone in paradise. + +Amparito held by a fetichistic Catholicism, conditioned by her situation +in life, and mixed with a lot of heterodox and contradictory ideas, but +she didn't give any thought to that. + +The marriage was very successful; they never had disputes or +discussions. When both were stubborn, they never noticed which one +yielded. + +They had rented one rather big floor facing on the Retiro, and they +began to furnish it. + +Amparito had bad taste in decoration; everything loud pleased her, and +sometimes when Caesar laughed, she would say: + +"I know I am a crazy country girl. You must tell me how to fix things." + +Caesar decided the arrangement of a little reception-room. He chose +a light paper for the walls, some coloured engravings, and Empire +furniture. Female friends found the room very well done. Amparito used +to tell them: + +"Yes, Caesar had it done like this," as if that were a weighty argument +with everybody. + +Amparito and her father persuaded Caesar that he ought to open an +office. All the people in Castro lamented that Caesar did not practise +law. + +He had always felt a great repugnance for that sharpers' and skinflints' +business; but he yielded to please Amparito, and set up his office and +took an assistant who was very skillful in legal tricks. Caesar was often +to be found writing in the office, when Amparito opened the door. + +"Do you want to come here a moment?" she would say. + +"Yes. What is it?" + +"Look and see how this hat suits me. How do you like it?" + +Caesar would laugh and say: + +"I think you ought to take off the flowers, or it ought to be smaller." + +Amparito accepted Caesar's suggestions as if they had been, articles of +faith. + +Caesar, on his part, had a great admiration for his wife. What strength +for facing life! What amazing energy! + +"I walk among brambles and leave a piece of my clothing on every one of +them," thought Caesar, "and she passes artlessly between all obstacles, +with the ease of an ethereal thing. It's extraordinary!" + +It pleased Amparito to be thus observed. + +Her husband used to tell her: + +"You have, as it were, ten or twelve Amparitos inside of you; it often +seems to me that you are a whole round of Amparitos." + +"Well, you are not more than one Caesar to me." + +"That's because I have the ugly vice of talking and of being +consequential." + +"Don't I talk?" + +"Yes, in another way." + + +_DOUBT_ + +In the spring they went to Castro, and the members of the Workmen's Club +presented themselves before Caesar to remind him of a project for a +Co-operative and a School, which he had promised them. They were all +ready to put up what was necessary for realizing both plans. + +Caesar listened to them, and although with great coldness, said yes, +that he was ready to initiate the scheme. A few days later, in Dr. +Ortigosa's _Protest_, there was enthusiastic talk of the Great +Co-operative, which, when established, would improve, and at the same +time cheapen necessary articles. + +The same day that the paper came out with this news, a commission of the +shopkeepers of Castro waited on Caesar. The scheme would ruin them. It +was especially the small shopkeepers that considered themselves most +injured. + +Caesar replied that he would think it over and decide in an equitable +manner, looking for a way to harmonize the interests of all people. +Really he didn't know what to do, and as he had no great desire to begin +new undertakings, he wanted to call the Co-operative dead, but Dr. +Ortigosa was not disposed to abandon the idea. + +"It is certain that if goods are made cheaper," said the doctor, "and +the Co-operative is opened to the public, the shopkeepers will have to +fight it, and then either they or we shall be ruined; but something else +can be done, and that is to sell articles to the public at the same +price as the tradesmen, and arrange it that members get a dividend from +the profits of the society. In that way there will be no fight, at any +rate not at first." + +They tried to do it that way, but it did not satisfy the poor people, or +calm the shopkeepers. + +Caesar, who had lost his lust for a fight, put the scheme aside; and +although it would cost him more, decided to have the construction of the +school begun. + +The Municipality ceded the lot and granted a subsidy of five thousand +pesetas to start the work; Caesar gave ten thousand, and at the +Workmen's Club a subscription was opened, and performances were given in +the theatre to collect funds. + +The school promised to be a spacious edifice with a beautiful garden. +The corner-stone was laid in the presence of the Governor of the +Province, and despite the fact that the founders' intention was to found +a lay school, the Clerical element took part in the celebration. + +When the work began, the majority of the members of the Club were +shocked to find that the masons, instead of working on the same +conditions as for other jobs, asked more pay, as if the school where +their sons might study were an institution more harmful than beneficial +for them. + +Caesar, on learning this, smiled bitterly and said: + +"They are not obliged to be less of brutes than the bourgeoisie." + +From Madrid Caesar continued sending maps for the school, engravings, +bas-reliefs, a moving-picture machine. + +Dr. Ortigosa and his friends went every day to look over the work. + +A year from the beginning of work, the boys and girls' school was +opened. Dr. Ortigosa succeeded in arranging that two of the three male +teachers they procured were Free-Thinkers. One of them, a poor man who +had lived a dog's life in some town in Andalusia, was reputed to be an +anarchist. They appointed three female teachers too, two old, and one +young, a very attractive and clever girl, who came from a town near +Bilboa. + +Caesar took part in the opening, and spoke, and received enthusiastic +applause. Despite which, Caesar felt ill at ease among his old friends; +in his heart he knew that he was deserting them. He now thought it +unlikely, almost impossible, that that town should succeed in emerging +from obscurity and meaning something in modern life. Moreover, he +doubted about himself, began to think that he was not a hero, began to +believe that he had assigned himself a role beyond his powers; and this +precisely at the moment when the town had the most faith in him. + + + +XV + +"DRIVELLER" JUAN AND "THE CUB-SLUT" + + +_A MURDER_ + +"Driveller" Juan, the town dandy protected by Father Martin, had from +childhood distinguished himself by his cowardice and by his tendency to +bullying. His appearance was that of an idiot; people said he drivelled; +whence they gave him the nickname of "Driveller" Juan. He lived by +pretending to be terrible in the gambling houses, and bragged of having +been in prison several times. + +The Clericals had made "Driveller" the janitor of the Benevolent +Society, and at the same time its bully, so that he could inspire +terror; but as he was a coward in reality, and this was evident, he did +not succeed in terrifying the members of the Workmen's Club. + +"Driveller" Juan was tall, red-headed, with high cheek bones, knotty +hands, and a pendulous lip; his father, like him, had been bony and +strong, and for that reason had been called "Big Bones." + +"Driveller," like the coward he was, knew that he was not filling his +job; one day he had dared to go to a ball at the Workmen's Club, and San +Roman, the old Republican, had gone to him and tapped him on the arm, +saying: + +"Listen here, 'Driveller,' get out right now and don't you come back." + +"Why should I?" + +"Because you are not wanted." + +Juan had gone away like a whipped dog. "Driveller" wanted to do a manly +action, and he did it. + +There was a boy belonging to the Workmen's Club, who was called +"Lengthy," one of the few type-setters in the town, a clever, facetious +lad who now and then wrote an article for _The Protest_. + +"Driveller" insisted that "Lengthy" wanted to make fun of him. No doubt +he chose him for his victim, because he was so slim, lanky, and weak; +perhaps he had some other reason for attacking him. One afternoon, +at twilight, "Driveller" halted "Lengthy," demanded an explanation, +insulted him, and on finding his victim made no reply, gave him a blow. +The street was wet, and "Driveller" stepped on a fruit-skin and fell +headlong. Seeing the bully infuriated, "Lengthy" started to run, came to +an open door, and ran rapidly up the stairs. "Driveller," furious, ran +after him. Pursued and pursuer went down a hallway and "Lengthy" managed +to reach a door and close it. "Driveller's" revengeful fury was not +satisfied; he lay in wait until "Lengthy," believing himself alone, +tried to escape from his hiding-place and was walking down the hall, +and then "Driveller" drew his pistol and fired with the mouth against +"Lengthy's" shoulder, and left him dead. As it was a rainy day, both the +dead man's footsteps and the murderer's could be followed and everything +that had happened ascertained. + +The impression produced in the town by this assassination was enormous. +Some people said that Father Martin and his followers had ordered +"Lengthy" killed. In the Workmen's Club there was talk of setting fire +to the Benevolent Society of Saint Joseph and of burning the monastery +of la Pena. + +Caesar was in Madrid at the time of the crime. Some days later a +committee from the Club came to see him; it was necessary to have a +charge pushed and for Caesar to be the private attorney. + +According to the Club people, the Clericals wanted to save "Driveller" +Juan, and if he was not disposed of completely, he would begin his +performances again. + +Caesar could see nothing for it but to accept the duty which the town +put upon him. + +Because of the crime, the history of "Driveller's" family came to be +public property. He had a mother and two sisters who were seamstresses, +whom he exploited, and he lived with a tavern-keeper nicknamed "The +Cub-Slut," a buxom, malicious woman, who said horrible things about +everybody. + + +* * * * * + +_LIFE OF "THE CUB-SLUT"_ + +There were reasons for "The Cub-Slut's" being what she was. Her parents +being dead when she was a baby, having no relatives she had been left +deserted. A farrier they called "Gaffer," who seemed to have been a +kind person, took in the infant and brought her up in his house. It was +"Gaffer" who had given the nickname to the child, because instead of +calling her by her name, he used to say: + +"Hey, 'Cub-Slut!' Hey, little 'Cub-Slut!'" and the appellation had +stuck. + +When the girl was fourteen, "Gaffer" ravished her, and afterwards, being +tired of her, took her to a house of prostitution in the Capital and +sold her. "The Cub-Slut" left the brothel to go and live with an old +innkeeper, who died and made her his heiress. Six years later she went +back to Castro. Those that had seen her come back maintained that when +she reached the town and was told that "Gaffer" had died a few months +before, she burst into tears; some said it was from sentiment, but +others thought, very plausibly, that it was from rage at not being able +to get revenge. "The Cub-Slut" set up a tavern at Castro. + +"Driveller" and "The Cub-Slut" got along well, although, by what any one +could discover, "The Cub-Slut" treated the bully more like a servant +than anything else. + +"The Cub-Slut" was said to be very outspoken. One Sunday, on the +promenade, she had answered one of the young ladies of Castro rudely. +The young lady was the daughter of a millionaire, who had married after +having several children by a mistress of pretty bad reputation. The +millionaire's children had been educated in aristocratic schools, and +his girls were very elegant young ladies; even the mother got to be +refined and polished. One Sunday, on the promenade, one of them, on +passing near "The Cub-Slut," said in a low tone to her mother: + +"Dear Lord, what riff-raff!" + +And "The Cub-Slut," hearing her, stopped and said violently: + +"There's no riff-raff here except your mother and me. Now you know it." + +The young lady was so upset by the harsh retort that she didn't leave +the house again for a long while. + +Such rude candour on "The Cub-Slut's" part had made her feared; so that +nobody durst provoke her in the slightest degree. Besides, her history +and her misfortune were known and people knew that she was not a vicious +woman, but rather a victim of fate. + +The assassination of "Lengthy" was one of those events that are not +forgotten in a town. "Lengthy" was the son of "Gaffer," "The Cub-Slut's" +protector, and some people imagined that she had persuaded "Driveller" +to commit the crime; but the members of the Workmen's Club continued to +believe that it was a case of clerical revenge. + + +_"THE CUB-SLUT'S" ARGUMENT_ + +In the month of June, Caesar and Amparito went to Castro Duro. + +One afternoon when Caesar was alone in the garden, a very buxom woman +appeared before him, wearing a mantilla and dressed in black. + +"I came in without anybody seeing me," she said. "Your porter, 'Wild +Piglet,' let me pass. I know that Amparito is not here." + +She didn't say "Your wife," or "Your lady," but "Amparito." + +"Tell me what you want," said Caesar, looking at the woman with a +certain dread. + +"I am the woman that lives with 'Driveller' Juan." + +"Ah! You are...?" "Yes. 'The Cub-Slut.'" + +Caesar looked at her attentively. She was of the aquiline type seen on +Iberian coins, her nose arched, eyes big and black, thin-lipped mouth, +and a protruding chin. She noticed his scrutiny, and stood as if on her +guard. + +"Sit down, if you will, please, and tell me what you wish." + +"I am all right," she replied, continuing to stand; then, precipitately, +she said, "What I want is for them not to punish Juan more than is +just." + +"I don't believe he will be punished unjustly," responded Caesar. + +"The whole town says that if you speak against him in court, the +punishment will be heavier." + +"And you want me not to speak?" + +"That's it." + +"It seems to me to be asking too much. I shall do no more than insist +that they punish him justly." + +"There is no way to get out of it?" + +"None." + +"If you wanted to ... I would wait on you on my knees afterwards, I +would make any sacrifice for you." + +"Are you so fond of the man?" + +"The Cub-Slut" answered in the negative, by an energetic movement of her +head. + +"Well, then, what do you expect to get out of him?" + +"I expect revenge." + +"The Cub-Slut's" eyes flashed. + +"Is what they say about you true?" asked Caesar. + +"Yes." + +"The dead boy was the son of the man that sold you?" + +"Yes." + +"But to revenge oneself on the son for the sin of the father is +horrible." + +"The son was just as wicked as the father." + +"So that you ordered him killed?" + +"Yes, I did." + +"And you come and tell that to me, when I am to be the private +attorney." "Have them arrest me. I don't care." + +"The Cub-Slut" stood firm before Caesar, provocative, with flashing +eyes, in an attitude of challenge. + +"You hated that dead boy so much as this?" + +"Yes, him and all his family." + +"I can understand that if the father were alive, you might..." + +"If he were alive! I would give my life to drag him out of his tomb, so +as to make him suffer as much as he made me suffer." + +Caesar vaguely remembered the story he had heard about this woman, whose +adopted father had ruined her and then left her in a disreputable house +in the Capital. In general, the most absolute lack of apprehension +characterizes such village tragedies, and neither does the victim know +she is a victim, nor the villain that he is a villain. + +But in this case, judging by what "The Cub-Slut" was telling him, it +had not been so; "Gaffer" had gone about it with a certain depravity, +glutting his desires on her, and then selling her, putting her into an +infamous house. The villain had been cruel and intelligent; the victim +had realized that she was one, to the degree that her soul was filled +with desires for vengeance. + +"That man," "The Cub-Slut" ended, sobbing, "took away my name and gave +me a nickname; took away my honour, my life, everything; and if I +cannot be revenged on him because he is dead, I will be revenged on his +family." + +Caesar listened attentively to the woman's explanation, without +interrupting her. Then, when she had finished speaking, he said: + +"And why not go away?" + +"Away? Where?" she asked, astonished. + +"Anywhere. The world is so big! Why do you persist in living in the one +spot where people know you and have a bad opinion of you? Go away from +here. There are countries with more generous sentiments than these old +corners of the world. You do not consider yourself infamous or vile." + +"No, no." + +"Then go away from here. To America, to Australia, anywhere. Perhaps +you can reconstruct your life. At any rate, nobody will call you by your +nickname; nobody will talk familiarly to you. You will conquer or you +will be conquered in the struggle for life. That's evident. You will +share the common lot, but you will not be vilified. Do go." + +"The Cub-Slut" listened to Caesar with eyes cast down. When he ceased, +she stood looking at him intently, and then, without a word, she +disappeared. + + + + +XVI + +PITY, A MASK OF COWARDICE + +_THE MOTHER_ + + +Some days later Caesar was in his office, when a thin old woman, dressed +in black, shot in, crossed the room, and fell on her knees before him. +Caesar jumped up in disgust. + +"What's this? What's going on here?" he asked. + +Amparito entered the room and explained what was going on. The old woman +was "Driveller" Juan's mother. People had told Juan's mother that the +only obstacle to her son's salvation from death was Caesar, and she had +come to implore him not to let them condemn Juan to death. + +"My poor son is a good boy," moaned the old creature; "a woman made him +commit the crime." + +Caesar listened, silent and gloomy, without speaking, and then left the +room. Amparito remained with the old woman, consoling her and trying to +quiet her. + +That night Amparito returned to the task, and dragged the promise from +her husband that he would not act as private attorney at the trial. + +Caesar was ashamed and saddened; he didn't care to go to see anybody; he +was committing treason against his cause. + +"Pity will finish my work or finish me," thought Caesar, walking +about his room. "That poor old woman is worthy of compassion; that is +undeniable. She believes her son is a good boy, and he really is a low, +cowardly ruffian. I ought not to pay any attention to this plea, but +insist on their condemning that miserable wretch to death. But I haven't +any more energy; I haven't any more strength. I can feel that I am going +to yield; the mother's grief moves me, and I do not consider that if +this bully goes free, he is going to turn the town upside down and ruin +all our work. I am lost." + + +_FLIGHT_ + +Caesar confided to his wife that he was daunted; his lack of courage was +a nightmare to him. + +Amparito said that they ought to take a long trip. Laura had invited +them to come to Italy. It was the best thing they could do. + +Caesar accepted her solution, and, as a matter of fact, they went to +Madrid and from there to Italy. + +The Workmen's Club telegraphed to Caesar when the time for the trial +came, and Amparito answered the telegram from Florence, saying that her +husband was ill. + +Never had Caesar felt so agitated as then. He bought the Spanish +newspapers, and expected to find in some one of them the words: "Senor +Moncada is a coward," or "Senor Moncada is a sorry creature and a +traitor." + +When they knew that judgment had been pronounced and Juan condemned to +eight years in the penitentiary, they returned to Madrid. + +Caesar felt humiliated and ashamed; he did not dare show himself in +Castro. The congratulations that some people sent him on the restoration +of his health made his cheeks hot with shame in the solitude of his +office. + +The editor of a newspaper in the Capital of the Province came to call on +Caesar, who was so dispirited that he confided to his visitor that he +was ready to retire from politics. Two days later Caesar saw a big +headline on the first page of the Conservative newspaper of the Capital, +which said: "Moncada is about to retire." + +Amparito applauded her husband's decision, and Caesar made melancholy +plans for the future, founded on the renunciation of all struggle. + +A few days later Caesar received a letter from Castro Duro which made +him quiver. It was signed by Dr. Ortigosa, by San Roman, Camacho, the +apothecary, and the leading members of the Workmen's Club. The letter +was in the doctor's handwriting. It read thus: + +"Dear Sir: We have read in the newspaper from the Capital the +announcement that you are thinking of retiring from politics. We believe +this announcement is not true. We cannot think that you, the champion of +liberty in Castro Duro, would abandon so noble a cause, and leave the +town exposed to the intrigues and the evil tricks of the Clericals. +There is no question in this of whether it would suit you better to +retire from politics, or not. That is of no importance. There is a +question of what would suit our country and Liberty better. + +"If because of the seductions of an easy life, you should withdraw +from us and desert us, you would have committed the crime of +lese-civilization; you would have slain in its flower the re-birth of +the spiritual and civic life of Castro. + +"We do not believe you capable of such cowardice and such infamy, and +since we do not believe you capable of it, we beg you to come to +Castro Duro as soon as possible to direct the approaching municipal +elections.--Dr. Ortigosa, Antonio San Roman, Jose Camacho." + +On reading this letter Caesar felt as if he had been struck with a whip. +Those men were correct; he had no right to retire from the fight. + +This conviction supported him. + +"I have to go to Castro," he said to Amparito. + +"But didn't you say that...?" + +"Yes, but it is impossible." + +Amparito realized that her husband's decision was final, and she said: + +"All right; let us go to Castro." + + + +XVII + +FIRST VICTORY + + +The Conservatives had come into power; the time to change the town +government was approaching. It was customary at Castro, as in all rural +districts in Spain, that in a period of Liberal administration the +majority of the councillors elected should be Liberal, and at a time of +Conservative government, they should be Conservative. + +The former Liberal, Garcia Padilla, had gone over to the Conservative +camp, and one was now to see whether he would get his friends into the +Municipality so as to prepare for his own election as Deputy later. + +It was the first time there was going to be a real election at Castro +Duro. Moncada's candidates were almost all persons of good position. +Dr. Ortigosa and a Socialist weaver figured among the candidates, as +representing the revolutionary tendency. The Liberals felt and showed an +unusual activity and anxiety. Caesar started a newspaper which he named +Liberty, Dr. Ortigosa was the soul of this paper, whose doctrines ran +from Liberal Monarchy to Anarchy, inclusive. As the election drew +nearer, the agitation increased. + +In the two electoral headquarters established by Moncada's party, the +coming and going never stopped; some enthusiastic Moncadists came to +headquarters every fifteen minutes, to bring rumours going about and to +get news. + +Don So-and-So had said this; Uncle What's-His-Name was thinking of doing +that; it was nothing but conferences and machinations. The painter had +painted for them gratis a big poster expressing cheers for Liberty, +for Moncada, Dr. Ortigosa, and the Liberal candidates. The cafe keeper +brought chairs, without any one's asking him; somebody else brought a +brasier for the clerks; everybody was anxious to do something. The stock +phrase, an electoral battle, was not for them a political commonplace +but a reality. The most trivial things served as a motive for very +long discussions. Such was their identification with the Idea, that +it succeeded in wiping out selfish ends. They all felt honoured and +enthusiastic, at least while it lasted. + +People dreamed of the election. + +When Caesar arrived at the electoral headquarters, it was always a +series of exclamations, of embracing, of advice, that never ended. + +"Don Caesar, such a thing is ... Don Caesar, don't trust So-and-So." + +"We must get rid of them." + +"Not one of them ought to be left." + +He used to smile, because finding himself really loved by the people had +cleansed him of his habitual bitterness and his loss of spirits. When he +had finished receiving recommendations and congratulations, he would +go to an inside room, and there, in the company of a candidate or a +secretary, would read letters and arrange what they had to do. + +The most active of the candidates was Dr. Ortigosa. + +Ortigosa was a narrow-minded, tenacious man. His chief hatred was for +Catholicism and he directed all his attacks at the religion of his +forefathers, as he ironically termed it. + +He had founded a Masonic lodge, named the "Microbe," and whose principal +characteristic was anti-Catholicism. + +Ortigosa carried his propaganda everywhere. He stopped at every corner +to speechify, to talk of his plans. + +Caesar used his motor-car to go about among the villages in the +district. They would go to four or five and talk from balconies, or very +often from the car, like itinerant patent-medicine venders. + +In the little villages these reunions produced a great effect. What was +said served as a topic of conversation for a month. + +Caesar had developed a clear, insinuating eloquence. He knew how to +explain things admirably. Padilla's followers were not asleep; but, as +was natural, they took up the work in another way. They went from shop +to shop, making the shopkeepers see the harmfulness of the Moncadist +politics, promising them advantages. They threatened workmen with +dismissal. There was no great enthusiasm; their campaign was less noisy, +but, in part more certain. + +All the Liberal element of Castro was wrought up, from the temperate +Liberals, who remembered Espartero, to the Anarchists. "Whiskers" and +"Furibis" were the only ones who got together in a tavern to talk about +bombs and dynamite, and one could be sure that neither of them was +capable of anything. Those two had nothing more to do with Ortigosa, +considering him a deserter. + +"You are imbeciles," the doctor told them, with his habitual fury. +"This fight is waking the people up. They are beginning to show their +instincts, and that makes a man strong. The longer and more violent this +fight is, the better; progress will be so much quicker." + +"Agitation, agitation is what we need," cried the doctor; and he himself +was as agitated as a man condemned. + +The Liberals won a great victory; they obtained eight places out of ten +vacancies. + + + +XVIII + +DECLARATION OF WAR + + +The new city government of Castro was the most extraordinary that could +be imagined. Dr. Ortigosa presented motions which caused the greatest +astonishment and stupefaction, not only in the town, but in the whole +province. He conceived magnificent plans and extravagant ideas. He asked +to have the teaching system changed, religious festivals suppressed and +other ones instituted, property abolished, public baths installed, and +that Castro Duro should break with Rome. + +The doctor was a creature born to succeed those revolutionary eagle-men, +like Robespierre and Saint Just, and condemned to live in a miserable +chicken-yard. + +One day when Caesar was working in his office, he was astounded to see +Father Martin enter. + +Father Martin greeted Caesar like an old acquaintance; he had come to +ask him a favour. Suspicious, Caesar prepared to listen. After speaking +of the business that had brought him, the friar began to criticize the +town-government of Castro and to say that it was a veritable mad-house. + +"Your friends," said the priest, smiling, "are unrestrained. They want +to change everything in three days. Dr. Ortigosa is a crazy man...." + +"To my mind, he is the only man in Castro that deserves my estimation." + +"Yes?" + +"Yes." + +"This demoniac says that for him traditions have no value whatsoever." + +"Oh! I think the same thing," said Caesar. "Are you anti-historic?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"I don't believe it." + +"Absolutely. Tradition has no value for me either." + +"The basis of tradition," answered the friar, arguing like a man who +carries the whole of human knowledge in the pocket of his habit, "is the +confidence we all have in the experience of our predecessors. Whether I +be a labourer or a pastor, even though I have lived fifty years, I may +have great experience about my work and about life, but it will never be +so great as the united experience of all those who have preceded me. Can +I scorn the accumulation of wisdom that past generations hand down to +us?" + +"If you wish me to tell you the truth, for me your argument has no +weight," answered Caesar coldly. + +"No?" + +"No. It is undeniable that there is a sum of knowledge that comes from +father to son, from one labourer to another, and from one pastor to +another. But what value have these rudimentary, vague experiences, +compared to the united experience of all the men of science there have +been in the world? It is as if you told me that the stock of knowledge +of a quack was greater and better than that of a wise physician." + +"I am not talking," answered the Father, "of pure science. I am talking +of applied science. Is one of your universal savants going to occupy +himself with the way of sowing or of threshing in Castro?" + +"Yes. He has already occupied himself with it, because he has occupied +himself with the way of sowing or threshing in general, and, what is +more, with the variations in the processes that may be occasioned by the +kind of soil, the climate, etc." + +"And do you believe that such scientific pragmatism can be substituted +for the natural pragmatism born of the people's loins, created by them +through centuries and centuries of life?" + +"Yes. That is to say, I believe it can purify it; that it can cast out +of this pragmatism, as you call it, all that is wrong, absurd, and false +and keep what good there may be." "And for you the absurd and false is +Catholic morality." + +"It is." + +"You are not willing to discuss whether Catholicism is true or is a lie; +you consider it a ruinous doctrine which produces decadence. I have been +told that you have stated that on various occasions." + +"It is true. I have said so." + +"Then we do not agree. Catholicism is useful; Catholicism is efficient." + +"For what? For this life?" + +"Yes." + +"No. Pshaw! It may be useful when it comes to dying? Where there is +Catholicism there is ruin and misery." + +"Nevertheless, there is no misery in Belgium." + +"Certainly there is none, but in that country Catholicism is not what it +is in Spain." + +"Of course it isn't," exclaimed the friar, shouting, "because what +characterizes Spanish Catholicism is Spain, poverty-stricken, fanatic +Spain, and not the Catholicism." + +"I do not believe we are going to understand each other," replied +Caesar; "what seems a cause to me is an effect for you.... Besides, +we are getting away from the question. To you Castro's moral and +intellectual state seems good, does it not?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, to me it seems horrifying. Sordid vice, obscure adultery; +gambling, bullying, usury, hunger... You think it ought to keep on being +just as it was before I was Deputy for the District. Do you not?" + +"I do." + +"That I have been a disturbance, an enemy to public tranquillity." + +"Exactly." + +"Well, this state of things that you find admirable, seems to me +bestially fanatical, repugnantly immoral, repulsively vile." + +"Of course, for you are a pessimist about things as they are, like any +good revolutionist. You believe that you are going to improve life at +Castro. You alone?" "I, united with others." + +"And meanwhile you introduce anarchy into the city." + +"I introduce anarchy! No. I introduce order. I want to finish with the +anarchy already reigning in Castro and make it submit to a thought, to a +worthy, noble thought." + +"And by what right do you arrogate to yourself the power to do this?" + +"By the right of being the stronger." + +"Ah! Good. If you should get to be the weaker, you ought not to complain +if we should misuse our strength." + +"Complain! When you have been misusing it for thousands of years! At +this very moment, we do the talking, we make the protests, but you +people give the orders." + +"We offset your idiotic behaviour. We stand in the way of your utopias. +Do you think you are going to solve the problem of this earth, and that +of Capital? Are you going to solve the sexual question? Are you going +to institute a society without inequality or injustice, as Dr. Ortigosa +said in _La Libertad_ the other day? To me it seems very difficult." + +"To me too. But that is what there is to try for." + +"And when will you attain so perfect an arrangement, so great a harmony, +as the Catholic, created in twenty centuries? When?" + +"We shall attain a different, better harmony." + +"Oh, I doubt it." + +"Naturally. That is just what the pagans might have said to the +Christians; and perhaps with reason, because Christianity, compared to +paganism, was a retrogression." + +"That point we cannot discuss," said Father Lafuerza, getting up. + +Caesar got up too. + +"In spite of all this, I admire you, because I believe you are sincere," +said Father Martin. "But I believe you to be dangerous and I should be +happy to get you out of Castro." + +"I feel the same way about you, and I should also be happy to get you +out of here, as an unwholesome element." + +"So that we are open, loyal enemies." "Loyal! Pshaw! We are ready to do +each other all the harm possible." + +"For my part, yes, and in any way," announced the priest with energy. + +"I, too," Caesar answered; and he raised the curtain of the office door. + +"Don't disturb yourself," said Father Martin. + +"Oh, it's no trouble." + +"Regards to Amparito." + +"Thank you." + +The friar hesitated about going out, as if he wanted to return to the +attack. + +"Afterwards, if you repent..." he said. + +"I shall not repent," Caesar coldly replied. + +"I will drink peace to you." + +"Yes, if I submit. I will drink peace to you too, if I submit." + +"You are going to play a dangerous game." + +"It will be no less dangerous for you than for me." + +"You are playing for your head." + +"Pshaw! We will play for it and win it." + +The friar bowed, and smiling in a forced manner, left the house. + + + +XIX + +THE FIGHT FOR THE ELECTION + + +The Conservatives at Castro Duro were ready to commit the greatest +outrages and the most arbitrary acts so as to win by any methods. + +It was known that a committee consisting of Garcia Padilla, Father +Martin Lafuerza, and two Conservative councillors had gone to the +Minister of the Interior to beg that Caesar's victory might be prevented +by whatsoever means. + +"It is necessary that Don Caesar Moncada should not be elected for the +District," said Father Martin. "If he is, the town will remain subjected +to a revolutionary dictatorship. All the Conservative classes, the +merchants, the religious communities, fervently hope that Moncada will +not be made Deputy." + +The committee of Castrians visited other high personages, and they +must have attained their object, because the municipal government +was suspended a few days later, the Workmen's Club closed, the judge +transferred, the Civil Guard was reinforced, and a police inspector +of the worst antecedents was detailed to Castro as commissioner of +elections. + +The Governor of the Province, a political enemy of Caesar's, was a +personal friend of his. + +"For your sake I am ready to lose my future," he had said to him, "but +as for your followers, there is nothing left for me to do but knock them +over the head." + +_La Libertad_, Caesar's newspaper, made a very violent campaign against +Garcia Padilla. Ortigosa succeeded in finding out that Padilla had been +tried for embezzlement, and he published that fact. The _Castro News_, +on its side, insulted Caesar and called him a crooked speculator on the +exchange, an upstart, and an atheist. + +The rapidity and violence of the Government's methods produced an effect +of fear on lukewarm Liberals; on the other hand, it moved the decided +ones to show themselves all the more courageous and rash. + +Moncada's party almost immediately took on a revolutionary character. +The lodge, "The Microbe," was at work, and the most radical arrangements +started there. It suited the Government and the Conservatives to have +the Moncada party take this demagogic character. The commissioner had +contaminating persons come on from the Capital for the purpose of sowing +discord in the Workmen's Club. + +These suspicious persons, directed by one they called "Sparkler," used +to gather in the taverns to corrupt the workmen and the peasants, +carrying on a propaganda that was anarchistic in appearance, but in +reality anti-liberal. + +"They are all the same," they used to say; "Liberals and Conservatives +are not a bit different." + +The drunkards and vagabonds were in their glory during those days, +eating and drinking. Nobody knew for certain where the money came from, +but everybody could make certain that it flowed profusely. + +At the same time the commissioner had the most prominent workmen of the +Club arrested and brought suit against them on ridiculous accusations. + +_THE MEETING_ + +The Liberals tried to hold a manifestation in protest, but the +commissioner and the mayor prohibited it. + +The newspaper _La Libertad_ explained what was going on, and was +reprimanded. + +A meeting was organized at the school; the governor had granted +permission. + +The school was not lighted, and Caesar sent a man to the Capital for +acetylene lamps, which were put up on the walls, and which made a +detestable smell. The reunion took place at nine at night. Caesar +presided, and had San Roman, the bookseller, on his right, and Dr. +Ortigosa on his left. + +Behind them on a bench were some of the members of the Workmen's Club. + +The audience was composed of the poorest people; the rich Liberal +element was drawing back; there were day-labourers with blankets around +their shoulders and mouths, women in shawls holding children in their +arms. Among the audience were the _agents provocateurs_ who doubtless +had the intention of making a disturbance; but the Republican bookseller +ordered them thrown out of the place, and, despite their resistance, he +managed to have it done. + +The chief of police, insolent and contemptuous, took his seat at the +table with an officer of the Civil Guard in civilian's, who was there, +he said, to take notes. + +San Roman, the bookseller, gave Caesar a paper with the names of those +who were going to speak. They were many, and Caesar didn't know them. + +The first to whom he gave the floor, in the order of the list, was a +lame boy, who came forward on a crutch, and began to speak. + +The boy expressed himself with great enthusiasm and admirable candour. + +"Who is this youngster?" Caesar asked San Roman. + +"He is the best pupil in our school. We call him 'Limpy.' He comes of a +very poor family. He came to the school a year ago, knowing nothing, +and see him now. He says, and I think he is right, that if he keeps on +studying, he will be an eminent man." + +The audience applauded everything "Limpy" said, and when he finished +they hailed him with shouts and cheers. As he went back to his seat, +Caesar and San Roman shook his hand effusively. + + +_STAND FAST, FELLOW CITIZENS!_ + +After "Limpy," various orators spoke, in divers keys: "Furibis," "Uncle +Chinaman," "Panza," San Roman, a weaver, a railway employee, and Dr. +Ortigosa. The last-named let loose, and launched into such violent terms +that the audience shouted in horrified excitement. Caesar's speech +recommended firmness, and caused scarcely any reaction. The note had +been given by "Limpy," with his ingenuousness and his appealing quality, +and by the doctor with the violence of his words. + +The next day the Governor's commissioner gave orders to close the +school, and Dr. Ortigosa and San Roman were taken to jail. + + +_POLITICAL TRICKS_ + +It was impossible to carry on a campaign of popular agitation, and +Caesar decided to open a headquarters for propaganda next door to each +voting place. + +Meetings in the villages had been suppressed, because at the least +alarm, or even without any motive, the chief of police, with members of +the Civil Guard, went in among the people and dispersed them by shoving +and by pounding rifles on their feet. + +The newspapers couldn't say anything without being immediately reported +and suspended. + +Caesar sent no telegrams of protest, but he kept at work silently. He +was thinking of using all weapons, including even trickery and bribes. + +Garcia Padilla and the Government agents found this proceeding even more +dangerous than the former. Caesar offered twenty dollars to anybody that +would give information of any electoral sharp practices which could be +proved. The week of the election he and his friends did not rest. + +At one of the polls in Carrascal, where Caesar had a majority, the tile +bearing the house-number had been changed by night. The real voters had +to wait to cast their votes in one place, and meanwhile the urn was +being filled with ballots for the Government candidate at another place. + +In the hamlet of Val de San Gil, another trick was tried; the polling +place was established in a hay-loft to which one went up by a ladder. +While the villagers were waiting for the ladder to be set up, the urn +was being filled. When the ladder was put into place and the voters went +up one by one, they found that they had all voted already. As the ladder +was narrow, they had to go up singly, and it was not likely they would +have ventured to protest. Besides, there were a number of ruffians in +the place, armed with sticks and pistols, who were ready to club or to +shoot any one protesting. + +In spite of all, Caesar had the election won, always supposing that the +Government did not carry things to the limit; but at the last moment he +learned that more Civil Guards were going to come to Castro, and that +the Government agents had orders to prevent Moncada's victory by any +method. + +In the evening on Saturday, Caesar was told that the commissioner was +in a tavern, with others of the police, giving out ballots for illegal +voters. Caesar went there alone, and entered the tavern. + +The commissioner, on seeing him, grew confused. + +"I know what you are doing," said Caesar. "Be careful, because it may +cost you a term in prison." + +"You are the one that may have to pay by going to prison," replied the +inspector. + +"Just try to arrest me, you poor fool, and I'll shoot your head off!" + +The police inspector jumped up from the table where he was seated, and, +as he went out, he let one of the ballots fall. Caesar looked over the +men who were with the police inspector; one of them was "Sparkler." Some +days before he had come to Moncada's headquarters to offer to work for +him, and he was the director of the contaminating persons sent to Castro +by the Government. + +A CLANDESTINE MEETING + +When he returned to the headquarters, they told him there was a meeting +in "Furibis's" tavern at nine that night. Caesar got there a little +later than the time set. The place was gloomy, and had some big earthen +jars in it. They had put a table at the back of this cave, and an +acetylene light illuminated it. + +Those present formed a semicircle around the table. + +Caesar knocked at the tavern, and they opened the door to him; a workman +who was speaking delayed his peroration, and they waited until Caesar +had reached the table and got seated. The atmosphere was suffocating. +Everything was closed so that the Civil Guards would not see the light +through the windows and suspect that there was a meeting being +held there. The workmen were, for the most part, masons, weavers, +brickmakers. There were women there with their little ones asleep in +their bosoms. The air one breathed there was horrible. It looked like +a gathering of desperate people. They had learned that their arrested +comrades had been beaten in the prison, and that San Roman and Dr. +Ortigosa were in the infirmary as a result. + +_EULOGY OF VIOLENCE_ + +The excitement among those present was terrible. "Limpy" was the most +strenuous; he was in favour of their all going out that moment and +storming the jail. + +When they had all spoken, Caesar got up and asked them to wait. If he +won the election the next day, he promised them that the prisoners +should be freed immediately; if he did not win and the prisoners +remained there... + +"Then what is to be done?" said a voice. + +"What is to be done? I am in favour of violence," answered Caesar; +"burning the jail, setting fire to the whole town; I am ready for +anything." + +At that moment he really did think he had been too lenient. + +"Man's first duty is to break the law," he shouted, "when it is a bad +law. Everything is due to violence and war. I will go to the post of +danger this very second, whenever you wish. Shall we storm the jail? +Let's go right now." + +This storming of the jail didn't seem an easy thing to the others. One +might try to climb down the hill and surprise the prison guards, but it +would be difficult. According to "Furibis," the best thing would be for +ten or twelve of them to go out into the street with guns and pistols +and shoot right and left. + +At this disturbance the Civil Guard would come out, and that would be +the moment for the others to enter the jail and drag the prisoners out +into the street. + +Some one else said that it seemed better to him for them to approach +the Civil Guards' quarters cautiously, kill the sentinels, and take +possession of the rifles. + +"Decide," said Caesar; "I am ready for anything." + +Caesar's attitude made the excited ones grow calmer and understand that +it was not so easy to storm the jail. + +It was about eleven when the meeting at the tavern ended. They had +decided to wait and see what would happen the next day, and they left +the place one by one. + +"We will escort you, Don Caesar," several of them said. + +"No. What for?" + +"Remember there are people who might attack you. 'Driveller' Juan is at +large in Castro." + +"Really?" + +"Yes." + +"That bully can't do anything to me." + +* * * * * + +_AT NIGHT_ + +Caesar went out of the tavern, pulled down his hat, and wrapped himself +in his cape. He had not brought the motor, to avoid being recognized. It +was a cloudy night, but still and beautiful. + +Before they got out of the town a small boy came up to Caesar. + +"'The Cub-Slut' sent me to tell you to come to her house; she wants to +speak to you." + +"I will go tomorrow." + +"No. You must come now, because what she has to say is very important," +shouted the youngster. + +"Well, I can't go now." + +The youngster protested, and Caesar continued on his way. "Limpy" and +"Uncle Chinaman" followed him. Caesar was walking in the middle of the +highway, when, about half way home, a man on the run passed him. No +doubt he was going to give some signal. + +"Limpy" and "Chinaman" shouted over and over: + +"Don Caesar! Don Caesar!" + +Caesar halted, and "Chinaman" and "Limpy" ran up to him. + +"What's going on?" asked Caesar. + +"They are lying in wait for you," said "Limpy." "Didn't you see a man go +past running?" + +"Yes." + +"We are going to stay with you. We will sleep at your house," said +"Chinaman," "and if they attack us, we will defend ourselves." + +He showed a pistol which he carried in his sash. + +The three walked on together, and as they passed a little grove in front +of the palace, a shadow passed by, crawling, and fled away. + +"He was there," said "Chinaman." + +They went into the house. Amparito, with the old nurse, was praying +before a lighted image. + + + + +XX + +CONFIDENCE + +_YES, HE IS THE HERO_ + + +When he got up, Caesar found a lot of letters and notices from his +followers all over the district, giving him pointers. + +With the help of a manservant who used to go about with him, he himself +got the motor ready and prepared to visit the polls. + +As he got into the car, the youngster of the night before appeared with +a letter. + +"From 'The Cub-Slut'; please read it right away." + +"Give it to me; I will read it." + +"She told me you were to read it right away." + +"Yes, man, yes." + +Caesar took the letter and put it distractedly into his pocket. The +motor started and Caesar did not read the note. At eight in the morning +he was on his way to Cidones. The polls had been established legally. + +It was raining gently. As he drew near Cidones, the sun appeared. The +river was turbid and mud-coloured. Thick grey fog-clouds were rolling +about the plain; when they gathered below the hill where Caesar stood, +they gave it the appearance of an island in the middle of the sea. From +the chimneys of the town the smoke came out like hanks of spun silver, +and bells were ringing through this Sunday morning calm. + +Caesar stopped at an inn which was a little outside the town. The +blacksmith, an old Liberal, came out to receive him. The old man had +been suffering with rheumatism for some while. "How goes it?" Caesar +asked him. + +"Very well. I have been to vote for you." + +"And your health?" + +"Now that spring is coming, one begins to get better." + +"Yes, that is true," said Caesar; "I hadn't noticed that the trees are +in bloom." + +"Oh, yes, they are out. In a little while we shall have good weather. +It's a consolation for old folks." + +Caesar took leave of the blacksmith and got into the motor. + +* * * * * + +_CAESAR! CAESAR!_ + +"Yes, spring is in flower," said Caesar. "I will remove all the +obstacles and men's strength will come to life, which is action. This +town, then others, and finally all Spain.... May nothing remain hidden +or closed up; everything come to life, out into the sunlight. I am a +strong man; I am a man of iron; there are no obstacles for me. The +forces of Nature will assist me. Caesar! I must be Caesar!" + +The automobile began to move in a straight line toward Castro. + +The ground on both sides of the highway fled away rapidly. + +The automobile lessened its pace at the foot of the hill, and began to +climb. + +It went in by an old gate in the wall, which was called the Cart Gate. + +The street of the same name, a street in the poor suburb, was narrow +and the houses low; it was paved with cobbles. A little farther along +several lanes formed a crossroads. + +This was a quarter of brothels and of gipsies who made baskets. + +When he reached the crossroads, in the narrowest part there was a cart +blocking the street. The automobile stopped. + +"What's the matter?" asked Caesar, standing up. + +At that moment two shots rang out, and Caesar fell wounded into the +bottom of the car. The chauffeur saw that the discharges came from the +low windows of a loom, and backing the motor, he returned rapidly, +passed out the Cart Gate, at risk of running into it, went down to the +highway, and drove at high speed to Caesar's house. + +A moment later "Driveller" Juan and "Sparkler" came out of the loom and +disappeared down a lane. The judge who went to take depositions learned +from the chauffeur that Caesar had received a letter as he was getting +into the car. He had the wounded man's clothes searched, and they found +"The Cub-Slut's" letter, in which she warned Caesar of the danger he +was in. Fate had kept Caesar from reading it. + +* * * * * + +_THE RED FLAG_ + +The news that Caesar was seriously wounded ran through the town like a +train of powder. + +A movement of terror shook everybody. "Limpy," "Furibis," and the other +hysterical ones gathered at the tavern and agreed to set fire to the +monastery of la Pena. "Furibis" had arms in his house and divided them +among his comrades. A woman fastened a red rag to a stick, and they left +Castro by different paths and met opposite Cidones. + +Nine of them went armed, and various others followed behind. + +On reaching Cidones, one of the party advanced up the lane and saw two +pairs of Civil Guards. They discussed what they had better do, and the +majority were in favour of going into Moro's inn, which was at the +entrance to the town, and waiting until night. + +They did go in there and told Moro what they had just done. The +inn-keeper listened with simulated approval, and brought them wine. This +Moro was not a very commendable party; he had been convicted for robbery +several times and had a bad reputation. + +While the revolutionists were drinking and talking, Moro stole out +without any one's noticing, and went to see the chief of the Civil +Guard, and told him what was going on. "They are armed, then?" asked the +chief. + +"Yes." + +"And how many are they?" + +"Nine with arms." + +"We are only five. Do you want to do something?" + +"What is it?" + +"At dusk we will pass by the inn. I will knock. And you shall say to +them: 'Here is the chief of the Civil Guard; hide your arms.' They will +hide them, and we will arrest them." + +"Shall I get something for doing this favour?" asked Moro. + +"Naturally." + +"What will they give me?" + +"You will see." + +The ruse worked as they had plotted it; Moro played the comedy to +perfection. + +On learning that the chief of the Civil Guard wanted to come in, the +revolutionists, on the landlord's advice, left their arms in the next +room. At the same instant the window panes burst to bits and the +soldiers of the Civil Guard fired three charges from close up. Two women +and four men fell dead; the wounded, among whom was "Limpy," were taken +to the hospital, and only one person was lucky enough to escape. + +* * * * * + +_FATE_ + +At the chief headquarters of Moncada's followers, a strange phenomenon +was noticed; on the preceding days they had been chock full; that night +there were not over ten or a dozen men from the Workmen's Club collected +by a table lighted by a petroleum lamp. The pharmacist, Camacho, +presided. + +The news of the election was worse every minute. At the last hour the +Padillists, knowing that Moncada was wounded, were behaving horribly. In +the polls at Villamiel the tellers had fled with the blank ballots, and +the Conservative boss arranged the outcome of the election from his +house. + +As the teller from Santa Ines, who was a poor Liberal school-master, +was on his way from the hamlet with the papers, six men had seized him, +had snatched the returns from him, changed all the figures, and sent +them to the municipal building at Castro full of blots. + +They had fired over twenty shots at the teller for Paralejo. Many +of Moncada's emissaries, on knowing that Caesar was wounded and his +campaign going badly, had passed over to the other party. + +Only Moncada could have rallied that flight. His most faithful gave one +another uneasy looks, hoping some one would say: "Come along!" so that +they could all have gone. Camacho alone kept up the spirits of the +meeting. + +At nine o'clock at night the chief of police entered the headquarters, +accompanied by two Civil Guards. + +"Close up here, please," said the inspector. + +"Why?" asked the pharmacist. + +"Because I order you to." + +"You have no right to order that." + +"No? Here, get out, everybody, and _you_ are under arrest." + +Those present took to their heels; the pharmacist went to jail to keep +San Roman and Ortigosa company, and the Club was shut up.... + +* * * * * + +The election was won by Padilla. + + + +XXI + +OUR VENERABLE TRADITIONS! OUR HOLY PRINCIPLES! + + +The banquet in honour of Padilla was given at the Cafe del Comercio. +All the important persons of the town, many of whom had been Caesar's +adherents the day before, had gathered to feast the victor. The majority +gorged enthusiastically, the chief of police distinguishing himself by +his hearty applause. A fat lawyer presided, a greasy person with a black +beard, a typical coarse, dirty, tricky Moor. Next to him sat a small +attorney, pock-marked, pale of face. By dessert one no longer heard +anything but cries of "Hurrah for Padilla!" among the smoke of the big +cigars they were all smoking. + +Then the lawyer with the black beard arose and began to orate. + +He spoke slowly and with great solemnity. + +"This meeting shows," he said in a strong and sonorous voice, "your +enthusiasm and your loyalty for the good cause. Never, never will +we permit outsiders devoid of religion and patriotism to upset the +existence of our beloved city." (Applause.) "We will defend our +venerated traditions by all the means in our power; we will not permit +the hydra of anarchy to rise up in Castro; and if it should arise +to attack our holy principles, we shall crush it under our heels." +(Applause.) "When men turn their backs on God, when they preach the +relaxation of discipline, and licentiousness, when they are not willing +to acknowledge any authority, divine or human, then it is time for +decent men to form a bulwark with their breasts, for the defence of +their traditions. We are, before all else, Catholics and Spaniards; and +we will not consent to having Anarchists, Masons, sacrilegious persons +get the mastery of this sacred soil, and wipe out its memories, and spot +the most holy rights of our mother, the Church." (Ovation.) + +"Hurrah for Jesus Christ and His Immaculate Church!" shouted a priest, a +bit upset by his wine, in a raucous voice. + +Next, the fat, greasy lawyer paraded all the glories of Spain, with +their appropriate adjectives: the Cid, Columbus, Isabella the Catholic, +the Great Captain, Hernan Cortes.... Then a couple of dozen orators +spoke, and the meeting ended very late at night. + + +CASTRO DURO TODAY + +Today Castro Duro has definitely abandoned her intentions of living, and +return to order, as the weekly Conservative paper says; the fountains +have dried, the school been closed, the little trees in Moncada Park +have been pulled up. The people emigrate every year by hundreds. Today a +mill shuts down, tomorrow a house falls in; but Castro Duro continues +to live with her venerated traditions and her holy principles, not +permitting outsiders devoid of religion and patriotism to disturb her +existence, not spotting the most holy rights of the Church, our mother; +enveloped in dust, in dirt, and in filth, asleep in the sun, in the +midst of her grainless fields. + + + + +XXII + +FINIS GLORIAE MUNDI + +_FROM A SOCIETY COLUMN_ + + +To be in Castro Duro and not visit Don Caesar Moncada's house is a +veritable crime of _lese-art_. Senor Moncada, who is a most intelligent +person, has gathered in his aristocratic residence a collection of +precious things, old pictures, antiques, sculptures of the XV and +XVI Centuries, badges of the Inquisition. Senor Moneada has made +a conscientious study of the primitive Castilian painters, and is +certainly the person most at home in that line. + +His most beautiful wife, who is also a distinguished artist, has aided +him in forming this collection, and they have both gone about by +automobile through all the towns in this province and the neighbouring +ones, collecting everything artistic they found. + +At Don Caesar's house we had the pleasure of greeting the learned +Franciscan Father Martin, to whom the population of Castro Duro owes so +much. + +At a halt in the conversation we asked Senor Moncada: + +"And you, Don Caesar, have no idea of going back into politics?" + +And he answered us, smiling: + +"No, no. What for? I am nothing, nothing." + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Caesar or Nothing, by Pio Baroja + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAESAR OR NOTHING *** + +This file should be named 7csar10.txt or 7csar10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 7csar11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 7csar10a.txt + +Produced by Eric Eldred, David Widger, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/7csar10.zip b/old/7csar10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0edb258 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/7csar10.zip diff --git a/old/8444-h.htm.2021-01-26 b/old/8444-h.htm.2021-01-26 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7cfd021 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8444-h.htm.2021-01-26 @@ -0,0 +1,17739 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Cæsar Or Nothing, by Po Baroja + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cæsar or Nothing, by Pío Baroja Baroja + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cæsar or Nothing + +Author: Pío Baroja Baroja + +Translator: Louis How + +Release Date: August 4, 2009 [EBook #8444] +Last Updated: October 31, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CÆSAR OR NOTHING *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, David Widger, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + CÆSAR OR NOTHING + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Pío Baroja + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated from the Spanish by Louis How + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_PROL"> PROLOGUE </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_PART"> <b>PART ONE.</b> </a> <b>ROME</b> <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> I. </a> THE PARIS-VENTIMIGLIA + EXPRESS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> II. </a> AN + EXTRAORDINARY FAMILY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> III. </a> CÆSAR + MONCADA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> IV. </a> PEOPLE + WHO PASS CLOSE BY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> V. </a> THE + ABBE PRECIOZI. THE BIG BIRDS IN ROME <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> + VI. </a> THE LITTLE INTERESTS OF THE PEOPLE IN A ROMAN HOTEL + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VII. </a> THE + CONFIDENCES OF THE ABBE PRECIOZI <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> + VIII. </a> OLD PALACES, OLD SALONS, OLD LADIES <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0011"> IX. </a> NEW ACQUAINTANCES <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> X. </a> A BALL <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0013"> XI. </a> A SOUNDING-LINE IN THE DARK + WORLD <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XII. </a> A + MEETING ON THE PINCIO <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIII. </a> ESTHETICS + AND DEMAGOGY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XIV. </a> NEW + ATTEMPTS, NEW RAMBLES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XV. </a> GIOVANNI + BATTISTA, PAGAN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVI. </a> THE + PORTRAIT OF A POPE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVII. </a> EVIL + DAYS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XVIII. </a> CÆSAR + BORGIA’S MOTTO, “AUT CÆSAR, AUT NIHIL” <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0021"> XIX. </a> CÆSAR’S REFLECTIONS <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XX. </a> DON CALIXTO AT SAINT + PETER’S <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXI. </a> DON + CALIXTO IN THE CATACOMBS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXII. </a> SENTIMENTALITY + AND ARCHEOLOGY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXIII. </a> THE + ‘SCUTCHEON OF A CHURCH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XXIV. </a> TOURIST + INTERLUDE <br /><br /> <br /> <br /> <a href="#link2H_PART2"> <b>PART TWO.</b> + </a> <b>CASTRO DURO</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> + I. </a> ARRIVAL. CÆSAR IN ACTION <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0029"> II. </a> CASTRO DURO <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0030"> III. </a> CÆSAR’S LABOURS <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> IV. </a> THE BOOKSELLER AND THE + ANARCHISTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> V. </a> THE + BANQUET <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> VI. </a> UNCLE + CHINAMAN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> VII. </a> A + TRYING SCENE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> VIII. </a> THE + ELECTION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> IX. </a> CÆSAR + AS DEPUTY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> X. </a> POLITICAL + LABOURS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> XI. </a> THE + PITFALL OF SINIGAGLIA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> XIII. </a> AMPARITO + IN ACTION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0040"> XIV. </a> INTRANSIGENCE + LOST <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0041"> XV. </a> "DRIVELLER” + JUAN AND “THE CUB-SLUT” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> XVI. </a> PITY, + A MASK OF COWARDICE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0043"> XVII. </a> FIRST + VICTORY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0044"> XVIII. </a> DECLARATION + OF WAR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0045"> XIX. </a> THE + FIGHT FOR THE ELECTION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0046"> XX. </a> CONFIDENCE + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0047"> XXI. </a> OUR VENERABLE + TRADITIONS! OUR HOLY PRINCIPLES! <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0048"> + XXII. </a> FINIS GLORIÆ MUNDI. FROM A SOCIETY COLUMN <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PROL" id="link2H_PROL"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + PROLOGUE + </h2> + <h3> + THE AUTHOR HOLDS FORTH IN REGARD TO THE CHARACTER OF HIS HERO + </h3> + <p> + MORE OR LESS TRANSCENDENTAL DIGRESSIONS + </p> + <p> + The individual is the only real thing in nature and in life. + </p> + <p> + Neither the species, the genus, nor the race, actually exists; they are + abstractions, terminologies, scientific devices, useful as syntheses but + not entirely exact. By means of these devices we can discuss and compare; + they constitute a measure for our minds to use, but have no external + reality. + </p> + <p> + Only the individual exists through himself and for himself. I am, I live, + is the sole thing a man can affirm. + </p> + <p> + The categories and divisions arranged for classification are like the + series of squares an artist places over a drawing to copy it by. The lines + of the squares may cut the lines of the sketch; but they will cut them, + not in reality but only in the artist’s eye. + </p> + <p> + In humanity, as in all of nature, the individual is the one thing. Only + individuality exists in the realm of life and in the realm of spirit. + </p> + <p> + Individuality is not to be grouped or classified. Individuality simply + cannot fit into a pigeon-hole, and it is all the further from fitting if + the pigeon-hole is shaped according to an ethical principle. Ethics is a + poor tailor to clothe the body of reality. + </p> + <p> + The ideas of the good, the logical, the just, the consistent, are too + generic to be completely represented in nature. + </p> + <p> + The individual is not logical, or good, or just; nor is he any other + distinct thing; and this through the force of his own fatal actions, + through the influence of the deviation in the earth’s axis, or for + whatsoever other equally amusing cause. Everything individual is always + found mixed, full of absurdities of perspective and picturesque + contradictions,—contradictions and absurdities that shock us, + because we insist on submitting individuals to principles which are not + applicable to them. + </p> + <p> + If instead of wearing a cravat and a bowler hat, we wore feathers and a + ring in our nose, all our moral notions would change. + </p> + <p> + People of today, remote from nature and nasal rings, live in an artificial + moral harmony which does not exist except in the imagination of those + ridiculous priests of optimism who preach from the columns of the + newspapers. This imaginary harmony makes us abhor the contradictions, the + incongruities of individuality, at least it forces us not to understand + them. + </p> + <p> + Only when the individual discord ceases, when the attributes of an + exceptional being are lost, when the mould is spoiled and becomes + vulgarized and takes on a common character, does it obtain the + appreciation of the multitude. + </p> + <p> + This is logical; the dull must sympathize with the dull; the vulgar and + usual have to identify themselves with the vulgar and usual. + </p> + <p> + From a human point of view, perfection in society would be something able + to safeguard the general interests and at the same time to understand + individuality; it would give the individual the advantages of work in + common and also the most absolute liberty; it would multiply the results + of his labour and would also permit him some privacy. This would be + equitable and satisfactory. + </p> + <p> + Our society does not know how to do either of these things; it defends + certain persons against the masses, because it has injustice and privilege + as its working system; it does not understand individuality, because + individuality consists in being original, and the original is always a + disturbing and revolutionary element. + </p> + <p> + A perfect democracy would be one which, disregarding hazards of birth, + would standardize as far as possible the means of livelihood, of + education, and even the manner of living, and would leave free the + intelligence, the will, and the conscience, so that they might take their + proper places, some higher than others. Modern democracy, on the contrary, + tends to level all mentalities, and to impede the predominance of + capacity, shading everything with an atmosphere of vulgarity. At the same + time it aids some private interests to take their places higher than other + private interests. + </p> + <p> + A great part of the collective antipathy for individuality proceeds from + fear. Especially in our Southern countries strong individualities have + usually been unquiet and tumultuous. The superior mob, like the lower + ones, does not wish the seeds of Cæsars or of Bonapartes to flourish in + our territories. These mobs pant for a spiritual levelling; for there is + no more distinction between one man and another than a coloured button on + the lapel or a title on the calling-card. Such is the aspiration of our + truly socialist types; other distinctions, like valour, energy, virtue, + are for the democratic steam-roller, veritable impertinences of nature. + </p> + <p> + Spain, which never had a complete social system and has unfolded her life + and her art by spiritual convulsions, according as men of strength and + action have come bursting forth, today feels herself ruined in her + eruptive life, and longs to compete with other countries in their love for + the commonplace and well-regulated and in their abhorrence for + individuality. + </p> + <p> + In Spain, where the individual and only the individual was everything, the + collectivist aspirations of other peoples are now accepted as indisputable + dogmas. Today our country begins to offer a brilliant future to the man + who can cry up general ideas and sentiments, even though these ideas and + sentiments are at war with the genius of our race. + </p> + <p> + It would certainly be a lamentable joke to protest against the + democratic-bourgeois tendency of the day: what is is, because it must be + and because its determined moment has come; and to rebel against facts is, + beyond dispute, childish. + </p> + <p> + I merely mention these characteristics of the actual epoch; and I point + them out to legitimatize this prologue I have written, which, for what I + know, may after all give more clearness, or may give more obscurity to my + book.... BROTHER AND SISTER + </p> + <p> + Many years ago I was stationed as doctor in a tiny Basque town, in + Cestona. Sometimes, in summer, while going on my rounds among the villages + I used to meet on the highway and on the cross-roads passersby of a + miserable aspect, persons with liver-complaint who were taking the waters + at the neighbouring cure. + </p> + <p> + These people, with their leather-coloured skin, did not arouse any + curiosity or interest in me. The middle-class merchant or clerk from the + big towns is repugnant to me, whether well or ill. I would exchange a curt + salute with those liverish parties and go my way on my old nag. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon I was sitting in a wild part of the mountain, among big + birch-trees, when a pair of strangers approached the spot where I was. + They were not of the jaundiced and disagreeable type of the + valetudinarians. He was a lanky young man, smooth-shaven, grave, and + melancholy; she, a blond woman, most beautiful. + </p> + <p> + She was dressed in white and wore a straw hat with large flowers; she had + a refined and gracious manner, eyes of blue, a very dark blue, and + flame-coloured hair. + </p> + <p> + I surmised that they were a young married couple; but he seemed too + indifferent to be the husband of so pretty a woman. In any event, they + were not recently wed. + </p> + <p> + He bowed to me, and then said to his companion: + </p> + <p> + “Shall we sit down here?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well.” + </p> + <p> + They seated themselves on the half-rotten trunk of a tree. + </p> + <p> + “Are you on a trip?” he asked me, noticing my horse fastened to a branch. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I am coming back from a visit.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Are you the town doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you live here, in Cestona?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I live here.” + </p> + <p> + “Alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite alone.” + </p> + <p> + “In an hotel?” + </p> + <p> + “No; in that house there down the road. Behold my house; that is it.” + </p> + <p> + “It must be hard to live among so many invalids!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she asked. “This gentleman may not have the same ideas as you.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe I have. To my mind, he is right. It is very hard to live here.” + </p> + <p> + “You can have nobody to talk to. That’s evident.” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely nobody. Just imagine; there is not a Liberal in the town; + there are nothing but Carlists and Integrists.” + </p> + <p> + “And what has that to do with living contented?” she asked mockingly. + </p> + <p> + The woman was enchanting; I looked at her, a bit amazed to find her so + merry and so coquettish; and she put several questions to me about my life + and my ideas, with a tinge of irony. + </p> + <p> + I wanted to show that I was not exactly a farmer, and turning the talk to + what might be done in a town like that, I threw myself into outlining + utopian projects, and defending them with more warmth than it is + reasonable to express in a conversation with unknown persons. The woman’s + mocking smile stirred me up and impelled me to talk. + </p> + <p> + “It would be worth seeing, what a little town like this would be,” I said, + indicating the village of Cestona, “with really human life in it, and, + above all, without Catholicism. Every tenant might be a master in his own + home, throughout his life. Here you have farm-land that produces two + crops, you have woods, mountains, and a medicinal spring. The inhabitants + of Cestona might have the entire produce of the land, the mountain to + supply building-stone and fire-wood, and besides all that, the + entrance-fees at the springs.” + </p> + <p> + “And whose duty would it be to distribute the profits in this patriarchal + republic? The municipality’s?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said I. “The municipality could go ahead distributing the + land, making the roads, cutting out useless middle-men; it could keep + clean, inexpensive hotels for the foreigners, and get a good return from + them.” + </p> + <p> + “And then you would not admit of inheritance, doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Inheritance? Yes, I would admit of it in regard to things produced by one + person. I believe one ought to have the right to bequeath a picture, a + book, a piece of craftsmanship; but not land, not a mountain.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; property-right in land is absurd,” he murmured. “The one + inconvenience that your plan would have,” he added, “would be that people + from poverty-stricken holes would pour into the perfect towns and upset + the equilibrium.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we should have to restrict the right of citizenship.” + </p> + <p> + “But I consider that an injustice. The land should be free to all.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s true.” + </p> + <p> + “And religion? None whatever? Like animals,” she said ironically. + </p> + <p> + “Like animals, and like some illustrious philosophers, dear sister,” he + replied. “At the turn of a road, among the foliage, we would place a + marble statue adorned with flowers. Don’t you agree, doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me a very good idea.” + </p> + <p> + “Above all, for me the great thing would be to forget death and sorrow a + little,” he asserted. “Not so many church-bells should be heard. I believe + that we ought even to suppress the maxim about love for one’s neighbour. + Make it the duty of the state or the municipality to take care of the sick + and the crippled, and leave men the illusion of living healthy in a + healthy world.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! What very ugly ideas you have!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that one seems a bit hard to me,” said I. + </p> + <p> + We were walking down toward the town by a steep and rocky path. It was + beginning to grow dusk, the river shone with silvery reflections, and the + toads broke the silence of the twilight with the sonorous, flute-like note + of their croaking. + </p> + <p> + On arriving at the highway we said good-bye; they took the stage, which + was passing at that moment in the direction of the springs, and I mounted + my hack. + </p> + <p> + IN MY GARDEN + </p> + <p> + I had learned that the brother and sister were named Cæsar and Laura, that + she lived in Italy and was married. + </p> + <p> + Some days later, toward evening, they knocked at my house door. I let them + in, showed them to my garden, and conducted them to a deserted + summer-house, a few sticks put together, on the bank of the river. + </p> + <p> + Laura strolled through an orchard, gathered a few apples, and then, with + her brother’s aid and mine, seated herself on the trunk of a tree that + leant over the river, and sat there gazing at it. + </p> + <p> + While she was taking it in, her brother Cæsar started to talk. Without any + preliminary explanation, he talked to me about his family, about his life, + about his ideas and his political plans. He expressed himself with ease + and strength; but he had the uneasy expression of a man who is afraid of + something. + </p> + <p> + “I figure,” he said, “that I know what there is to do in Spain. I shall be + an instrument. It is for that that I am training myself. I want to create + all my ideas, habits, prejudices, with a view to the rôle I am going to + play.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not know what Spain is like,” said Laura. “Life is very hard + here.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that well. There is no social system here, there is nothing + established; therefore it is easier to create one for oneself.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but some protection is requisite.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I will find that.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “I think those Church people we knew in Rome will do for me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are not a Clerical.” + </p> + <p> + “No.” “And do you want to start your career by deceiving people?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot choose my means. Politics are like this: doing something with + nothing, doing a great deal with a little, erecting a castle on a grain of + sand.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you, who have so many moral prejudices, wish to begin in that + way?” + </p> + <p> + “Who told you that accepting every means is not moral?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand how it could be,” replied Laura. + </p> + <p> + “I do,” answered her brother. “What is individual morality today? Almost + nothing. It almost doesn’t exist. Individual morality can come to be + collective only by contagion, by enthusiasm. And such things do not happen + nowadays; every one has his own morality; but we have not arrived at a + scientific moral code. Years ago notable men accepted the moral code of + the categoric imperative, in lieu of the moral code based on sin; but the + categorical imperative is a stoical morality, a wise man’s morality which + has not the sentimental value necessary to make it popular.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand these things,” she replied, displeased. + </p> + <p> + “The doctor understands me, don’t you?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I believe I do.” + </p> + <p> + “For me,” Cæsar went on, “individual morality consists in adapting one’s + life to a thought, to a preconceived plan. The man who proposes to be a + scientist and puts all his powers into achieving that, is a moral man, + even though he steals and is a blackguard in other things.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, for you,” I argued, “morality is might, tenacity; immorality is + weakness, cowardice.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it comes to that. The man capable of feeling himself the instrument + of an idea always seems to me moral. Bismarck, for instance, was a moral + man.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a forceful point of view,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Which, as I see, you do not share,” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “As things are today, no. For me the idea of morality is attached to the + idea of pity rather than to the idea of force; but I comprehend that pity + is destructive.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe that you and Cæsar,” Laura burst forth, “by force of wishing to + see things clear, see them more vaguely than other people. I can see all + this quite simply; it appears to me that we call every person moral who + behaves well, and on the contrary, one that does wicked deeds is called + immoral and is punished.” + </p> + <p> + “But you prejudge the question,” exclaimed Cæsar; “you take it as settled + beforehand. You say, good and evil exist....” + </p> + <p> + “And don’t they exist?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “So that if they gave you the task of judging mankind, you would see no + difference between Don Juan Tenorio and Saint Francis of Assisi?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it was the saint who had the more pleasure, who was the more + vicious.” + </p> + <p> + “How atrocious!” + </p> + <p> + “No, because the pleasure one has is the criterion, not the manner of + getting it. As for me, what is called a life of pleasure bores me.” + </p> + <p> + “And judging from the little I know of it, it does me too,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I see life in general,” he continued, “as something dark, gloomy, and + unattractive.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you gentlemen do not place the devil in this life, since this life + seems unattractive to you. Where do you find him?” + </p> + <p> + “Nowhere, I think,” replied Cæsar; “the devil is a stupid invention.” + </p> + <p> + AT TWILIGHT + </p> + <p> + The twilight was beginning. + </p> + <p> + “It is chilly here by the river,” I said. “Let us go to the house.” + </p> + <p> + We went up by a sloping path between pear-trees, and reached the vestibule + of the house. From afar we heard the sound of the stage-coach bells; a + headlight gleamed, and we saw it pass by and afterwards disappear among + the trees. “What a mistake to ask more of life than it can give!” suddenly + exclaimed Laura. “The sky, the sun, conversation, love, the fields, works + of art... think of looking on all these as a bore, from which one desires + to escape through some violent occupation, so as to have the satisfaction + of not noticing that one is alive.” + </p> + <p> + “Because noticing that one is alive is disagreeable,” replied her brother. + </p> + <p> + “And why?” + </p> + <p> + “The idea! Why? Because life is not an idyll, not by a good deal. We live + by killing, destroying everything there is around us; we get to be + something by ridding ourselves of our enemies. We are in a constant + struggle.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see this struggle. Formerly, when men were savages, perhaps.... + But now!” + </p> + <p> + “Now, just the same. The one difference is that the material struggle, + with the muscles, has been changed to an intellectual one, a social one. + Nowadays, it is evident, a man does not have to hunt the bull or the wild + boar in the prairies; he finds their dead bodies at the butcher’s. Neither + does the modern citizen have to knock his rival down to overcome him; + nowadays the enemy is conquered at the desk, in the factory, in the + editor’s office, in the laboratory.... The struggle is just as infuriated + and violent as it was in the depths of the forests, only it is colder and + more courteous in form.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe it. You won’t convince me.” + </p> + <p> + Laura plucked a branch of white blossoms from a wild-rose bush and put it + into her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Cæsar, let us go to the hotel,” she said; “it is very late.” + </p> + <p> + “I will escort you a little way,” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + We went out on the highway. The night was palpitating as it filled itself + with stars. Laura hummed Neapolitan songs. We walked along a little while + without speaking, gazing at Jupiter, who shone resplendent. + </p> + <p> + “And you have the conviction that you will succeed?” I suddenly asked + Cæsar. “Yes. More than anything else I have the vocation for being an + instrument. If I win success, I shall be a great figure; if I go to + pieces, those who know me will say: ‘He was an upstart; he was a thief.’ + Or perhaps they may say that I was a poor sort, because men who have the + ambition to be social forces never get an unprejudiced epitaph.” + </p> + <p> + “And what will you do in a practical way, if you succeed?” + </p> + <p> + “Something like what you dream of. And how shall I do it? By destroying + magnates, by putting an end to the power of the rich, subduing the + middle-class... I would hand over the land to the peasants, I would send + delegates to the provinces to make hygiene obligatory, and my dictatorship + should tear the nets of religion, of property, of theocracy....” + </p> + <p> + “What nonsense!” murmured Laura. + </p> + <p> + “My sister doesn’t believe in me,” Cæsar exclaimed, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, <i>bambino</i>,” she replied. “Yes, I believe in you. Only, why + must you have such silly ambitions?” + </p> + <p> + We were getting near the bath establishment, and when we came in front of + it we said good-bye. + </p> + <p> + Laura was starting the next day to Biarritz, and Cæsar for Madrid. + </p> + <p> + We pressed one another’s hands affectionately. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, doctor!” + </p> + <p> + “Good luck!” + </p> + <p> + They went along toward the establishment, and I returned home by the + highway, envying the energy of that man, who was getting himself ready to + fight for an ideal. And I thought with melancholy of the monotonous life + of the little town. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + PART ONE. ROME + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. THE PARIS-VENTIMIGLIA EXPRESS + </h2> + <p> + <i>MARSEILLES!</i> + </p> + <p> + The fast Paris-Ventimiglia train, one of the Grand European Expresses, had + stopped a moment at Marseilles. + </p> + <p> + It was about seven in the morning of a winter day. The huge cars, with + their bevelled-glass windows, dripped water from all parts; the locomotive + puffed, resting from its run, and the bellows between car and car, like + great accordeons, had black drops slipping down their corrugations. + </p> + <p> + The rails shone; they crossed over one another, and fled into the distance + until lost to sight. The train windows were shut; silence reigned in the + station; from time to time there resounded a violent hammering on the + axles; a curtain here or there was raised, and behind the misted glass the + dishevelled head of a woman appeared. + </p> + <p> + In the dining-car a waiter went about preparing the tables for breakfast; + two or three gentlemen, wrapped in their ulsters, their caps pulled down, + were seated at the tables by the windows and kept yawning. + </p> + <p> + At one of the little tables at the end Laura and Cæsar had installed + themselves. + </p> + <p> + “Did you sleep, sister?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I did. Splendidly. And you?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t. I can’t sleep on the train.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s evident.” + </p> + <p> + “I look so bad, eh?” and Cæsar examined himself in one of the car mirrors. + “I certainly am absurdly pale.” + </p> + <p> + “The weather is just as horrible as ever,” she added. + </p> + <p> + They had left a Paris frozen and dark. During the whole night the cold had + been most intense. One hadn’t been able to put a head outside the car; + snow and a furious wind had had their own violent way. + </p> + <p> + “When we reach the Mediterranean, it will change,” Laura had said. + </p> + <p> + It had not; they were on the edge of the sea and the cold continued + intense and the weather dark. + </p> + <p> + HOW BEAUTIFUL! + </p> + <p> + The train began its journey again; the houses of Marseilles could be seen + through the morning haze; the Mediterranean appeared, greenish, whitish, + and fields covered with hoar-frost. + </p> + <p> + “What horrid weather!” exclaimed Laura, shuddering. “I dislike the cold + more and more all the time.” + </p> + <p> + The dining-car waiter came and filled their cups with <i>café-au-lait</i>. + Laura drew off her gloves and took one of the hot cups between her white + hands. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, this is comforting!” she said. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar began to sip the boiling liquid. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see how you can stand it. It’s scalding.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the way to get warm,” replied Cæsar, undisturbed. + </p> + <p> + Laura began to take her coffee by spoonfuls. Just then there come into the + dining-car a tall blond gentleman and a young, charming lady, each smarter + than the other. The man bowed to Laura with much formality. + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “He is the second son of Lord Marchmont, and he has married a Yankee + millionairess.” + </p> + <p> + “You knew him in Rome?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I knew him at Florence last year, and he paid me attention rather + boldly.” + </p> + <p> + “He is looking at you a lot now.” + </p> + <p> + “He is capable of thinking that I am off on an adventure with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly. She is a magnificent woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Right you are. She is a marvel. She is almost too pretty. She shows no + character; she has no air of breeding.” “There doesn’t seem to be any + great congeniality between them.” + </p> + <p> + “No, they don’t get on very well. But come along, pay, let’s go. So many + people are coming in here.” + </p> + <p> + Laura got up, and after her, Cæsar. As she passed, one heard the swish of + her silk petticoats. The travellers looked at her with admiration. + </p> + <p> + “I believe these people envy me,” said Cæsar philosophically. + </p> + <p> + “It’s quite possible, <i>bambino</i>,” she responded, laughing. + </p> + <p> + They entered their compartment. The train was running at full speed along + the coast. The greenish sea and the cloudy sky stretched away and blotted + out the horizon. At Toulon the bad weather continued; a bit beyond, the + sun came out, pallid in the fog, circled with a yellowish halo; then the + fog dispersed rapidly and a brilliant sun made the snow-covered country + shine. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! How beautiful!” exclaimed Laura. + </p> + <p> + The dense pure snow had packed down. The grape-vines broke up this white + background symmetrically, like flocks of crows settled on the earth; the + pines held high their rounds of foliage, and the cypresses, stern and + slim, stood out very black against all the whiteness. + </p> + <p> + On passing Hyères, as the train turned away from the shore, running + inland, grim snowy mountains began for some while to be visible, and the + sun vanished among the clouds; but when the train came out once more + toward the sea, near San Rafael, suddenly,—as if a theatrical effect + had been arranged,—the Mediterranean appeared, blue, flooded with + sunshine, full of lights and reflections. The sky stretched radiant above + the sea, without a cloud, without a shred of vapour. + </p> + <p> + “How marvellous! How beautiful!” Laura again exclaimed, contemplating the + landscape with emotion. “These blessed countries where the sun is!” + </p> + <p> + “They have no other drawback, than that the men who inhabit them are a + trifle vague,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” + </p> + <p> + The air had grown milder; on the surface of the sea patterns of silver + foam, formed by the beating of the waves, widened themselves out; the + sun’s reflection on the restless waters made shining spots and rays, + flaming swords that dazzled the eye. + </p> + <p> + The train seemed to puff joyfully at submerging itself in this bland and + voluptuous atmosphere; the palm-trees of Cannes came surging up like a + promise of felicity, and the Côte d’Azur began to show its luminous and + splendid beauty. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, tired of so much light, took a book from his pocket: <i>The + Speculator’s Manual</i> of Proudhon, and set to reading it attentively and + to marking the passages that struck him as interesting. + </p> + <p> + THE ENGLISHMAN AND HIS WIFE + </p> + <p> + Laura, when she was not watching the landscape, was looking at those who + came and went in the corridor. + </p> + <p> + “The Englishman is lying in wait,” Laura observed. + </p> + <p> + “What Englishman?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “The son of the lord.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar kept on reading, and Laura continued to watch the landscape which + hurried by outside the window. After a while she exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “O Lord, what hideous things!” + </p> + <p> + “What things?” + </p> + <p> + “Those war-ships.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar looked where his sister pointed. In a roadstead brilliant with + sunlight he saw two men-of-war, black and full of cannons. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the way one ought to be to face life, armed to the teeth,” + exclaimed Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked Laura. + </p> + <p> + “Because life is hard, and you have to be as hard as it is in order to + win.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t consider yourself hard enough?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think you are. You are like those rough, pointed rocks on the + shore, and I am like the sea.... They throw me off and I come back.” “That + is because, perhaps, when you get down to it, nothing makes any real + difference to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, <i>bambino!</i>” exclaimed Laura, taking Cæsar’s hand with + affectionate irony. “You always have to be so cruel to your mamma.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar burst into laughter, and kept Laura’s hand between both of his. + </p> + <p> + “The Englishman feels sad looking at us,” he said. “He doesn’t dream that + I am your brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Open the door, I will tell him to come in.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar did so, and Laura invited the young Englishman to enter. + </p> + <p> + “My brother Cæsar,” she said, introducing them, “Archibaldo Marchmont.” + </p> + <p> + They both bowed, and Marchmont said to Laura in French: + </p> + <p> + “You are very cruel, Marchesa.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you run away from us people who admire and like you. My wife + asked me to present her to you. Would you like her to come?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! She mustn’t disturb herself. I will go to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly not. One moment.” + </p> + <p> + Marchmont went out into the corridor and presented his wife to Laura and + to Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + An animated conversation sprang up among them, interrupted by Laura’s + exclamations of delight on passing one or another of the wonderful views + along the Riviera. + </p> + <p> + “You are a Latin, Marchesa, eh?” said Marchmont. + </p> + <p> + “Altogether. This is our sea. Every time I look at it, it enchants me.” + </p> + <p> + “You are going to stop at Nice?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my brother and I are on our way to Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “But Nice will be magnificent....” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s true; but we have made up our minds to go to Rome to visit + our uncle, the Cardinal.” + </p> + <p> + The Englishman made a gesture of annoyance, which did not go unperceived + by his wife or by Laura. On arriving at Nice, the Englishman and his + Yankee wife got out, after promising that they would be in Rome before + many days. + </p> + <p> + Laura and Cæsar remained alone and chatted about their fellow-travellers. + According to Laura, the couple did not get along well and they were going + to separate. + </p> + <p> + IN ITALY + </p> + <p> + In the middle of the afternoon they arrived at Ventimiglia and changed + trains. + </p> + <p> + “Are we in Italy now?” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems untidier than France.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but more charming.” + </p> + <p> + The train kept stopping at almost all the little towns along the route. In + a third-class car somebody was playing an accordeon. It was Sunday. In the + towns they saw people in their holiday clothes, gathered in the square and + before the cafés and the eating-places. On the roads little two-wheeled + carriages passed quickly by. + </p> + <p> + It began to grow dark; in the hamlets situated on the seashore fishermen + were mending their nets. Others were hauling up the boats to run them on + to the beach, and children were playing about bare-footed and half-naked. + </p> + <p> + The landscape looked like a theatre-scene, the setting for a romantic + play. They were getting near Genoa, running along by beaches. It was + growing dark; the sea came right up to the track; in the starry, tranquil + night only the monotonous music of the waves was to be heard. + </p> + <p> + Laura was humming Neapolitan songs. Cæsar looked at the landscape + indifferently. + </p> + <p> + On reaching Genoa they had supper and changed trains. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to lie down awhile,” said Laura. + </p> + <p> + “So am I.” + </p> + <p> + Laura took off her hat, her white cape, and her jacket. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, <i>bambino</i>,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night. Shall I turn down the light?” + </p> + <p> + “As you like.” Cæsar turned down the light and stretched himself out. He + couldn’t sleep in trains and he got deep into a combination of fantastical + plans and ideas. When they stopped at stations and the noise of the moving + train was gone from the silence of the night, Cæsar could hear Laura’s + gentle breathing. + </p> + <p> + A little before dawn, Cæsar, tired of not sleeping, got up and started to + take a walk in the corridor. It was raining; on the horizon, below the + black, starless sky, a vague clarity began to appear. Cæsar took out his + Proudhon book and immersed himself in it. + </p> + <p> + When it began to be day they were already getting near Rome. The train was + running through a flat, treeless plain of swampy aspect, covered with + green grass; from time to time there was a poor hut, a hay-stack, on the + uninhabited, monotonous stretch. + </p> + <p> + The grey sky kept on resolving itself into a rain which, at the impulse of + gusts of wind, traced oblique lines in the air. + </p> + <p> + Laura had waked and was in the dressing-room. A little later she came out, + fresh and hearty, without the least sign of fatigue. + </p> + <p> + They began to see the yellowish walls of Rome, and certain big edifices + blackened by the wet. A moment more and the train stopped. + </p> + <p> + “It’s not worth the trouble to take a cab,” said Laura. “The hotel is + here, just a step.” + </p> + <p> + They gave a porter orders to attend to the luggage. Laura took her + brother’s arm, they went out on the Piazza Esedra, and entered the hotel. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. AN EXTRAORDINARY FAMILY + </h2> + <h3> + <i>JUAN GUILLÉN</i> + </h3> + <p> + The Valencian family of Guillén was really fecund in men of energy and + cleverness. It is true that with the exception of Father Francisco Guillén + and of his nephew Juan Fort, none of them became known; but in spite of + the fact that the members of this family lived in obscurity in a humble + sphere, they performed deeds of unheard-of valour, daring, and + impertinence. + </p> + <p> + Juan Guillén, the first of the Guilléns whose memory is preserved, was a + highwayman of Villanueva. + </p> + <p> + What motives for vengeance Juan Guillén had against the Peyró family is + not known. The old folk of the period, two or three who are still alive, + always say that these Peyrós devoted themselves to usury; and there is + some talk of a certain sister of Juan Guillén’s, ruined by one of the + Peyrós, whom they made disappear from the town. + </p> + <p> + Whatever the motive was, the fact is that one day Peyró, the father, and + his eldest son were found, full of bullet holes, in an orange orchard. + </p> + <p> + Juan Guillén was arrested; in court he affirmed his innocence with great + tenacity; but after he had been sentenced to ten years’ imprisonment, he + said that there were still two Peyrós left to kill, whom he would put off + until he got out of prison. + </p> + <p> + As it turned out, Guillén was set free after six years and returned to + Villanueva. The two threatened Peyrós did their utmost to keep away from + the revengeful Guillén; but it did not work. Juan Guillén killed one of + the Peyrós while he was watering the flowers in the balcony of his house. + The other took refuge in a remote farm-house rented to peasants in his + confidence. This man, who was very crafty, always took great precautions + about all the people that came there, and never forgot to close the doors + and windows at night. + </p> + <p> + One morning he was found in bed with his head shot to pieces by a + blunderbuss. No doubt death overtook him while he slept. It was said that + Guillén had got in down the chimney, and going close to where Peyró lay + asleep, had fired the blunderbuss right against him. Then he had gone + tranquilly out by the door, without anybody’s daring to stop him. + </p> + <p> + These two last deaths did not cause Guillén any trouble with the law. All + the witnesses in the suit testified in his favour. When the trial was + over, Guillén arranged to stay and live tranquilly in Villanueva. + </p> + <p> + There was a highwayman in the town, who levied small sums on the farms for + cleaning young sneak-thieves out of the country, and for escorting rich + persons when they travelled; Guillén requested him to give up his job and + he did not offer the least resistance. + </p> + <p> + Juan Guillén married a peasant-girl, bought a truck-garden, and a + wine-cave, had several children, and was one of the most respectable + highwaymen in the district. He was the terror of the country, particularly + to evil-doers; for him there were neither scruples nor perils; might was + always right; his only limitation his blunderbuss. + </p> + <p> + To live in a continual state of war seemed to him a natural condition. + Half in earnest, half in jest, it is told of the truck-gardeners of + Valencia that the father always says to his wife or his daughter, when he + is going to have an interview with somebody: + </p> + <p> + “Bring me my pistol, sweetheart, I am going out to talk to a man.” + </p> + <p> + To Guillén it seemed indispensable that he should carry his blunderbuss + when discussing an affair with anybody. + </p> + <p> + Juan’s energy did not diminish with age; he kept on being as barbarous and + brutal as when he was young. His barbarity did not prevent his being very + fine and polite, because he was under the conviction that his life was a + well-nigh exemplary life. + </p> + <p> + TENDER-HEARTED VICENTA + </p> + <p> + Of the highwayman’s children, the eldest son studied for the priesthood, + and the youngest daughter, Vicenta, got ruined. + </p> + <p> + “I should prefer to have her a man and in the penitentiary,” Guillén used + to say. Which was not at all strange, because for the highwayman the + penitentiary was like a school of determination and manhood. + </p> + <p> + Vicenta, the highwayman’s youngest daughter, was a blond girl, noisy and + restless, of a violent character that was proof against advice, + reprimands, and beatings. + </p> + <p> + Vicenta had various beaux, all gentlemen, in spite of her father’s + opposition and his cane. None of these young gentlemen beaux dared to + carry the girl off to Valencia, which was what she wanted, for fear of the + highwayman and his blunderbuss. + </p> + <p> + So she made arrangements with an old woman, a semi-Celestina who turned up + in town, and in her company ran off to Valencia. + </p> + <p> + The father roared like a wounded lion and swore by all the saints in + heaven to take a terrible revenge; he went to the capital several times + with the intention of dragging his daughter back home bodily; but he could + not find her. + </p> + <p> + Vicenta Guillén, who was known in Valencia,—for what reason is not + evident,—as the Tender-hearted, had her ups and her downs, rich + lovers and poor, and was distinguished by her boldness and her spirit of + adventure. It was said of her that she had taken part, dressed as a man, + in several popular disturbances. + </p> + <p> + THE MONK + </p> + <p> + While the Tender-hearted was leading a life of scandal, her brother, + Francisco, was studying in the College of the Escolapians in the village, + and afterwards entered the Seminary at Tortosa. He did not distinguish + himself there by his intelligence or by his good conduct; but by force of + time and recommendations he succeeded in getting ordained and saying mass + at Villanueva. His father’s restless blood boiled in him: he was a rowdy, + brutal and quarrelsome. As life in the village was uncomfortable for him, + he went to America, ready to change his profession. He could not have + found wide prospects among the laity, for after a few months he took the + vows, and ten or twelve years later he returned to Spain, the Superior of + his Order, and went to a monastery in the province of Castellón. + </p> + <p> + Francisco Guillén had changed his name, and was now called Fray José de + Calasanz de Villanueva. + </p> + <p> + If Fray José de Calasanz, on his return from America, had not learned much + theology, at any rate he had learned more about life than in the early + years of his priesthood, and had turned into a cunning hypocrite. His + passions were of extraordinary violence, and despite his ability in + concealing them, he could not altogether hide his underlying barbarity. + </p> + <p> + His name figured several times, in a scandalous manner, along with the + name of a certain farmer’s wife, who was a bit weak in the head. + </p> + <p> + These pieces of gossip, though they gave him a bad reputation with the + town people, did not prevent him from advancing in his career, for pretty + soon, and no one quite knew for what reason, he was found to have acquired + importance and to wield influence of decisive weight, not only in the + Order, but among the whole clerical element of the city. + </p> + <p> + At the same time that Father José de Calasanz was becoming so successful, + the Tender-hearted took to the path of virtue and got married at Valencia + to the proprietor of a little grocery shop in a lane near the market, his + name being Antonio Fort. + </p> + <p> + The Tender-hearted, once married, wrote to her brother to get him to make + her father forgive her. The monk persuaded the old bandit, and the + Tender-hearted went to Villanueva to receive the paternal pardon. The + Tender-hearted, being married, lived an apparently retired and devout + life. Her husband was a poor devil of not much weight. The Tender-hearted + gave a great impetus to the shop. After she began to run the establishment + there was always a great influx of priests and monks recommended by her + brother. + </p> + <p> + Some of them used to gather in the back-shop toward dusk for a <i>tertulia</i>, + and it was said that one of the members of the <i>tertulia</i>,—a + youthful little priest from Murcia,—had an understanding with the + landlady. + </p> + <p> + The priests’ <i>tertulia</i> at Fort’s shop was a well-spring of riches + and prosperity for the business. The little nuns of such-and-such a + convent advised the ladies they knew to buy chocolate and sweets at + Fort’s; the friars of another convent gave them an order for sugar or + cinnamon, and cash poured into the drawer. + </p> + <p> + The Tender-hearted had three children: Juan, Jerónimo, and Isabel. + </p> + <p> + When the two elder were of an age to begin their education, Father José de + Calasanz made a visit in Valencia. + </p> + <p> + Father José had a powerful influence among the clergy, and he offered his + support to his sister in case she found it well to dedicate one of her + sons to the church. + </p> + <p> + The Tender-hearted, who beginning to have great ambitions, considered that + of her two sons, Juan, the elder, was the more serious and diligent, and + she did not vacillate about sacrificing him to her ambitions. + </p> + <p> + JUAN FORT + </p> + <p> + Juan Fort was a boy of energy, very decided, although not very + intelligent. His uncle, Fray José de Calasanz, when he knew him, grew fond + of him. Fray José enjoyed great esteem in the Order that is called,—nobody + knows whether it is in irony,—the Seraphic Order. Fray José + consulted several competent persons and they advised him to send his + nephew to study outside of Spain. It is known that among her ministers the + Church prefers men without a country. Catholicism means universality, and + the real Catholic has no other country than his religion, no other capital + but Rome. + </p> + <p> + Juan Fort, snatched from among his comrades and from the bosom of his + family, went weeping in his uncle’s company to France, and entered the + convent of Mont-de-Marson to pursue his studies. + </p> + <p> + In this convent he made his monastic novitiate, and like all the + individuals of that Order, changed his name, being called from then on, + Father Vicente de Valencia. + </p> + <p> + From Mont-de-Marson he passed to Toulouse, and when two years were up, he + made a short stay in the monastery where his uncle was prior, and went to + Rome. + </p> + <p> + When the Tender-hearted went to embrace her son, on his passage through + Valencia, she could see that his affection for her had vanished. As + happens with nearly all the young men that enter a religious Order, Juan + Fort felt a deep antipathy for his family and for his native town. + </p> + <p> + The young Father Vicente de Valencia entered the convent of Aracceli at + Rome, and continued his studies there. + </p> + <p> + This was at the beginning of Leo XIII’s pontificate. At that epoch certain + naïve elements in the Eternal City tried to initiate anti-Jesuit politics + inside the Church. Liberals and Ultramontanists struggled in the darkness, + in the periodicals, and in the universities. + </p> + <p> + It was a phenomenon of this struggle,—which seems paradoxical,—that + the partisans of tradition were the most liberal, and the partisans of + Modernism the Ultramontanists. The lesser clergy and certain Cardinals + felt vaguely liberal, and were searching for that something Christian, + which, as people say, still remains in Catholicism. On the other hand, the + Congregations, and above all the Jesuits, gave the note of radical + Ultramontanism. + </p> + <p> + The sons of Loyola had solved the culinary problem of making a meat-stew + without meat; the Jesuits were making their Company the most + anti-Christian of the Societies in the silent partnership. + </p> + <p> + In Rome the prime defender of Ultramontanism had been the Abbé Perrone, an + eloquent professor, whom the pressure of the traditional theologians + obliged to read, before giving a lecture, a chapter of Saint Thomas on the + point in question. Perrone, after offering, with gnashing of teeth, this + tribute to tradition, used to say proudly: “And now, let us forget these + old saws and get along.” + </p> + <p> + Father Vicente de Valencia enrolled himself among the supporters of the + Perronean Ultramontanism, and became, as was natural, considering his + character, a furious authoritarian. This sombre man, whose vocation was + repugnant to him, who had not the least religious feeling, who could + perhaps have been a good soldier, took a long time to make himself + perfectly at home in monastic life, struggled against the chains that + chafed him, rebelled inwardly, and at last, not only did not succeed in + breaking his fetters, but even considered them his one happiness. + </p> + <p> + Little by little he dominated his rebelliousness, and he made himself a + great worker and a tireless intriguer. + </p> + <p> + The fruits of his will were great, greater than those of his intellect. + </p> + <p> + Father Vicente wrote a theological treatise in Latin, rather uncouth, so + the intellectual said, and which had the sole distinction of representing + the most rabid of reactionary tendencies. + </p> + <p> + <i>The Theological Commentaries of Father Vicente de Valencia</i> did not + attract the attention of the men who follow the sport of occupying + themselves with such things, whether or no; the presses did not groan + printing criticisms of the book; but the Society of Jesus took note of the + author and assisted Fort with all its power. + </p> + <p> + A fanatic and a man of mediocre intelligence, that monk might perhaps be a + considerable force in the hands of the Society. + </p> + <p> + A short while after the publication of his <i>Commentaries</i>, Father + Vicente accompanied the general of his Order on a canonical visit to the + monasteries in Spain, France, and Italy; later he was appointed + successively Visitor General for Spain, Consultor of the monastic province + of Valencia, Definer of the Order, and a voting councillor in the + government of the Order. + </p> + <p> + The news of these honours reached the Fort family in vague form; the + haughty monk gave no account of his successes. He considered himself to be + without a country and without a family. + </p> + <p> + THE CARDINAL’S NEPHEW AND NIECE + </p> + <p> + The Tender-hearted died without having the consolation of seeing her son + again; Jerónimo Fort, the youngest child, became head of the shop, Isabel + married a soldier, Carlos Moncada, with whom she went to live in Madrid. + </p> + <p> + Isabel Fort lived there a long time without remembering her monk brother, + until she learned, to her great surprise, that they had made him a + Cardinal. + </p> + <p> + Father Vicente left off calling himself that and changed into Cardinal + Fort. The darkness that surrounded him turned to light, and his figure + stood out strongly. + </p> + <p> + “Cardinale Forte,” they called him in Rome. He was known to be one of the + persons that guided the Vatican camarilla, and one of those who impelled + Leo XIII to rectify the slightly liberal policy of the first years of his + pontificate. + </p> + <p> + Cardinal Fort filled high posts. He was a Consultor in the Congregation of + Bishops and Regulars, afterwards in that of Rites and in that of the Holy + Office, and on special occasions was confessor to Leo XIII. + </p> + <p> + Certainly having a Cardinal in the family is something that makes a + showing; and Isabel, as soon as she knew it, wrote by the advice of the + family, to her brother, so as to renew relations with him. + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal replied, expressing interest in her husband and her children. + Isabel sent him their pictures, and phrases of affection were cordially + interchanged. + </p> + <p> + After that they kept on writing to each other, and in one letter the + Cardinal invited Isabel to come to Rome. She hesitated; but her husband + convinced her that she ought to accept the invitation. They all of them + went, and the Cardinal received them very affectionately. + </p> + <p> + Juan Fort was living at that time in a monastery, like the other monks. He + enjoyed an enormous influence in Rome and in Spain. Isabel wanted her + husband promoted, and the Cardinal obtained that in a moment. + </p> + <p> + Then Fort talked to his sister of the propriety of dedicating Cæsar to the + Church. He would enter the College of Nobles, then he would pass to the + Nunciature, and in a short while he would be a potentate. + </p> + <p> + Doña Isabel told this to her husband; but the idea didn’t please him. They + talked among themselves, they discussed it, and the small boy, then twelve + years old, settled the question himself, saying that he would kill himself + rather than be a priest or a monk, because he was a Republican. + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal was not enthusiastic over this rebellious youngster who dared + to speak out what he, in his childhood, would not have been bold enough to + insinuate; but if Cæsar did not appeal to him, on the other hand he was + very much taken with Laura’s beauty and charm. + </p> + <p> + The Moncada family returned to Spain after spending some months in Rome. + Two years later Doña Isabel’s husband died, and she, recalling the offers + of her brother, the Cardinal, left Cæsar in an Escolapian college in + Madrid, and went to Rome, taking Laura with her. + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal, in the meanwhile, had changed his position and his domicile; + he was now living in the Palazzo Altemps in the Via di S. Apellinare, and + leading a more sumptuous life. + </p> + <p> + They reproached him in Rome for his exclusiveness and at the same time for + his tendency to ostentation. They said that if he was silent about + himself, it was not through modesty, but because that is the best method + to arrive at being a candidate for the tiara. + </p> + <p> + They added that he was very fond of showing himself in his red robes, and + in fine carriages, and this ostentatious taste was explained among the + Italians by saying: “It’s simple enough; he is Spanish.” + </p> + <p> + Publicly it was said that he was a great theologian, but privately he was + considered a strong man, although of mediocre intelligence. + </p> + <p> + “A Fort is always strong,” they said of him, making a pun on his name. “He + is one of the Spanish Eminences who rule the Pope,” a great English + periodical stated, referring to him. + </p> + <p> + On receiving his sister and his niece, the Cardinal put all his influence + with the Black Party in play so that they should be accepted by the + aristocratic society of Rome. He achieved that without much difficulty. + Laura and her mother were naturaly distinguished and tactful, and they + succeeded in forming a circle. + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal felt proud of his family; and accompanying the two women gave + him occasion for visiting many people. + </p> + <p> + Roman slander calumniated Fort, assuming him to be having a love affair + with his niece. Juan Fort showed an affection for Laura which seemed + unheard of by those that knew him. + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal was a man of exuberant pride, and he knew how to control + himself. He felt a great fondness for Laura; but if there was anything + more in this fondness than tranquil fatherly affection, if there was any + passion, only he knew it; the fire lurked very deep in his overshaded + soul. + </p> + <p> + Laura made, socially speaking, a good marriage. She married the Marquis of + Vaccarone, a babbling Neapolitan, insubstantial and light. In a short + while, seeing that they were not congenial, she arranged for an amicable + separation and the two lived independent. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. CÆSAR MONCADA + </h2> + <h3> + AT THE ESCOLAPIANS + </h3> + <p> + Cæsar studied in Madrid in an Escolapian college in the Calle de + Hortaleza, where he was an intern all the time he was taking his + bachelor’s degree. + </p> + <p> + His mother had gone to live in Valencia, after marrying Laura off, and + Cæsar passed his vacations with her at a country-place in a neighbouring + village. + </p> + <p> + Several times a year Cæsar received letters and photographs from his + sister, and one winter Laura came to Valencia. She retained a great + fondness for Cæsar; he was fond of her too, although he did not show it, + because his character was little inclined to affectionate expansion. + </p> + <p> + At college Cæsar showed himself to be a somewhat strange and absurd youth. + As he was slight and of a sickly appearance, the teachers treated him with + a certain consideration. + </p> + <p> + One day a teacher noticed that Cæsar creaked when he moved, as if his + clothes were starched. + </p> + <p> + “What are you wearing?” he asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, indeed! Unbutton your jacket.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar turned very pale and did not unbutton it; but the master, seizing + him by a lapel, unbuttoned his jacket and his waistcoat, and found that + the student was covered with papers. + </p> + <p> + “What are these papers? For what purpose are you keeping them here?” + </p> + <p> + “He does it,” one of his fellow students replied, laughing, “because he is + afraid of catching cold and becoming consumptive.” They all made comments + on the boy’s eccentricity, and a few days later, to show that he was not a + coward, he tried to go out on the balcony on a cold winter night, with his + chest bare. + </p> + <p> + Among his fellow-students Cæsar had an intimate friend, Ignacio Alzugaray, + to whom he confided and explained his prejudices and doubts. Alzugaray was + not a boarder, but a day-scholar. + </p> + <p> + Ignacio brought anti-clerical periodicals to school, which Cæsar read with + enthusiasm. His sojourn in a religious college was producing a frantic + hatred for priests in young Moncada. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was remarkable for the rapidity of his decisions and the lack of + vacillation in his opinions. He felt no timidity about either affirming or + denying. + </p> + <p> + His convictions were absolute; when he believed in the exact truth of a + thing, he did not vacillate, he did not go back and discuss it; but if his + belief faltered, then he changed his opinion radically and went ahead + stating the contrary of his previous statements, without recollecting his + abandoned ideas. + </p> + <p> + His other fellow-students did not care about discussions with a lad who + appeared to have a monopoly of the truth. + </p> + <p> + “Professor So-and-So is a beast; What-you-call-him is a talented chap; + that fellow is a thick-witted chap. This kid is all right; that one is + not.” + </p> + <p> + In this rail-splitting manner did young Moncada announce his decisions, as + if he held the secret explanation of all things tight between his fingers. + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray seldom shared his friend’s opinions; but in spite of this + divergence they understood each other very well. + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray came of a modest family; his mother, the widow of a government + clerk, lived on her pension and on the income from some property they + owned in the North. + </p> + <p> + Ignacio Alzugaray was very fond of his mother and his sister, and was + always talking about them. Cæsar alone would listen without being + impatient to the meticulous narratives Ignacio told about the things that + happened at home. + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray was of a very Catholic and very Carlist family; but like Cæsar, + he was beginning to protest against such ideas and to show himself + Liberal, Republican, and even Anarchistic. Ignacio Alzugaray was a nephew + of Carlos Yarza, the Spanish author, who lived in Paris, and who had taken + part in the Commune and in the Insurrection of Cartagena. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, on hearing Alzugaray recount the doings of his uncle Carlos Yarza + various times, said to his fellow-student: + </p> + <p> + “When I get out of this college, the first thing I am going to do is to go + to Paris to talk with your uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “I have to talk to him.” + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact, once his course was finished, Cæsar left the college, + took a third-class ticket, went to Paris, and from there wrote to his + mother informing her what he had done. Carlos Yarza, Alzugaray’s uncle, + received him very affectionately. He took him to dine and explained a good + many things. Cæsar asked the old man no end of questions and listened to + him with real avidity. + </p> + <p> + Carlos Yarza was at that time an employee in a bank. At this epoch his + forte was for questions of speculation. He had put his mind and his will + to the study of these matters and had the glimmering of a system in things + where everybody else saw only contingencies without any possible law. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar accompanied Yarza to the Bourse and was amazed and stirred at seeing + the enormous activity there. + </p> + <p> + Yarza cleared away the innumerable doubts that occurred to the boy. + </p> + <p> + In the short time Cæsar spent in Paris he came to a most important + conclusion, which was that in this life one had to fight terribly to get + anywhere. + </p> + <p> + One day, on awakening in the shabby little room where he lodged, he found + that the arms of a very smart woman were around his neck. It was Laura, + very contented and joyful to surprise her madcap brother. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma is alarmed,” Laura told him. “What are you doing here all this + time? Are you in love?” “I? Bah!” + </p> + <p> + “Then what have you been doing?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been going to the Bourse.” + </p> + <p> + SOUNDING-LINES IN LIFE + </p> + <p> + Laura burst out laughing, and she accompanied her brother back to + Valencia. Cæsar’s mother wished the lad to take his law course there, but + Cæsar decided to do it in Madrid. + </p> + <p> + “A provincial capital is an insupportable place,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar went to Madrid and rented a study and a bed-room, cheap and + unrestricted. + </p> + <p> + He boarded in one house and lodged at another. Thus he felt more free. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar believed that it was not worth the trouble to study law seriously; + and he imagined moreover that to study so many routine conceptions, which + may be false, such as the conception of the soul, of equity, of + responsibility, etc., would bring him to a shyster lawyer’s vulgar and + affected idea of life. To counteract this tendency he devoted himself to + studying zoology at the University, and the next year he took a course in + physiology at San Carlos. + </p> + <p> + At the same time he did not neglect the stock exchange; his great pride + was to acquaint himself thoroughly with the details of the speculations + made and to talk in the crowds. + </p> + <p> + As a student he was mediocre. He learned the secret of passing + examinations well with the minimum of effort, and practised it. He found + that by knowing only a couple of things under each heading of the program, + it was enough for him to answer and to pass well. And so, from the + beginning of each course, he marked in the text the two or three lines of + every page which seemed to him to comprise the essential, and having + learned those, considered his knowledge sufficient. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had a deep contempt for the University and for his fellow-students; + all their rows and manifestations seemed to him repulsively flat and + stupid. + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray was studying law too, and had obtained a clerkship in a + Ministry. Alzugaray got drunk on music. His great enthusiasm was for + playing the ‘cello. Cæsar used to call on him at his office and at home. + </p> + <p> + The clerks at the Ministry seemed to Cæsar to form part of an inferior + human race. + </p> + <p> + At Alzugaray’s house, Cæsar felt at home. Ignacio’s mother, a lady with + white hair, was always making stockings, and after dinner she recited the + rosary with the maid; Alzugaray’s sister, Celedonia, a tall ungainly lass, + was often ill. + </p> + <p> + All the family thought a great deal of Cæsar; his advice was followed at + that house, and one of the operations on ‘change that he recommended + making with some Foreign bonds that Ignacio’s mother was holding at the + time of the Cuban War, gave everybody in the house an extraordinary idea + of young Moncada’s financial talents. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar kept his balance among his separate activities; one set of studies + complemented others. This diversity of points of view kept him from taking + the false and one-sided position that those who preoccupy themselves with + one branch of knowledge exclusively get into. + </p> + <p> + The one-sided position is most useful to a specialist, to a man who + expects to remain satisfied in the place where chance has put him; but it + is useless for one who proposes to enter life with his blood afire. + </p> + <p> + As almost always occurs, the projecting of ideas of distinct derivation + and of different orders into the same plane, carried Cæsar into absolute + scepticism, scepticism about things, and especially scepticism about the + instrument of knowledge. + </p> + <p> + His negation had no reference,—far from it,—to women, to love, + or to friends, things where the pedantic and ostentatious scepticism of + literary men of the Larra type usually finds its fodder; his nihilism was + much more the confusion and discomposure of one that explores a region + well or badly, and finds no landmarks there, no paths, and returns with a + belief that even the compass is not exact in what it shows. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing absolute exists,” Cæsar told himself, “neither science nor + mathematics nor even the truth, can be an absolute thing.” + </p> + <p> + Arriving at this result surprised Cæsar a good deal. On finding that he + was not successful in lighting on a philosophical system which would be a + guide to him and which could be reasoned out like a theorem, he sought + within the purely subjective for something that might satisfy him and + serve as a standard. + </p> + <p> + A PHILOSOPHY + </p> + <p> + Toward the end of their course Cæsar presented himself one day in his + friend Alzugaray’s office. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” he said, “that I am getting my philosophy into shape.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear man!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I have tacked some new contours on to my Darwinian pragmatism.” + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray, in whom every treasure-trove of his friend’s always produced + great surprise, stood staring naïvely at him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am building up my system,” Cæsar went on, “a system within + relative truth. It is clear.” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s hear what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “In regard to us,” said Cæsar, as if he were speaking of something that + had happened in the street a few minutes before, “our uncertain instrument + of knowledge makes two apparent states of nature seem real to us; one, the + static, in which things are perceived by us as motionless; the other, the + dynamic, wherein these same things are found in motion. It is clear that + in reality everything is in motion; but within the relative truth of our + ideas we are able to believe that there are some things in repose and + others in action. Isn’t that so?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That is, I think so,” replied Alzugaray, who was beginning to wonder + if the whole earth was trembling under his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” Cæsar continued. “I am going to pass from nature to life: I am + going to assume that life has a purpose. Where can this purpose be found? + We don’t know. But what can be the machinery of this purpose? Only + movement, action. That is to say, struggle. This assertion once made, I am + going to take a hand in carrying it out. The things we call spiritual also + are dynamic. Who says anything whatsoever says matter and force; who says + force affirms attraction and repulsion; attraction and repulsion are + synonymous with movement, with struggle, with action. Now I am inside of + my system. It will consist of putting all the forces near me into + movement, into action, into struggle. What pleasure may there be in this? + First, the pleasure of doing, the pleasure, we might call it, of + efficiency; secondly, the pleasure of seeing, the pleasure of + observing.... What do you think of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Fine, man! The things you start are always good.” “Then there is the + moral point. I think I have settled that too.” + </p> + <p> + “That too?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Morals should be nothing more than the true, fitting, and natural + law of man. Man considered solely as a spiritual machine? No. Considered + as an animal that eats and drinks? Not that either. Man considered as a + complete whole. Isn’t that so?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe it is.” + </p> + <p> + “I proceed. In nature laws become more obscure, according as more + complicated objects of knowledge turn up. We all clearly see the law of + the triangle, and the law of oxygen or of carbon with the same clearness. + These laws appear to us as being without exception. But then comes the + mineral, and we begin to see variations; in this form it exerts one + attraction, in that form a different one. We ascend to the vegetable and + find a sort of surprise-package. The surprises are centupled in the + animal; and are raised to an unknown degree in man. What is the law of + man, as man? We do not know it, probably we shall never know it. Right and + justice may be truths, but they will always be fractional truths. + Traditional morality is a pragmatism, useful and efficacious for social + life, for well-ordered life; but at the bottom, without reality. Summing + all this up: first, life is a labyrinth which has no Ariadne’s thread but + one,—action; secondly, man is upheld in his high qualities by force + and struggle. Those are my conclusions.” + </p> + <p> + “Clever devil! I don’t know what to say to you.” + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray asserted that, without taking it upon him to say whether his + friend’s ideas were good or bad, they had no practical value; but Cæsar + insisted once and many times on the advantages he saw in his metaphysics. + </p> + <p> + ENCHIRIDION SAPIENTIAE + </p> + <p> + Cæsar remained in the same sphere during the whole period of his law + course, always seeking, according to his own words, to add one wheel more + to his machine. + </p> + <p> + His life contained few incidents; summers he went to Valencia, and there, + in the villa, he read and talked with the peasants. His mother, devoted + solely to the Church, bothered herself little about her son. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar ended his studies, and on his coming of age, they gave him his share + of his father’s estate. + </p> + <p> + Incontinently he took the train, he went to Paris, he looked up Yarza. He + explained to him his vague projects of action. Yarza listened attentively, + and said: + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it will appear foolish to you, but I am going to give you a book + I wrote, which I should like you to read. It’s called <i>Enchiridion + Sapientiae</i>. In my youth I was something of a Latinist. In these pages, + less than a hundred, I have gathered my observations about the financial + and political world. It might as well be called <i>Contribution to + Common-sense, or Neo-Machiavellianism</i>. If you find that it helps you, + keep it.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar read the book with concentrated attention. + </p> + <p> + “How did it strike you?” said Yarza. + </p> + <p> + “There are many things in it I don’t agree with; I shall have to think + over them again.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Then keep my <i>Enchiridion</i> and go on to London. Paris is + a city that has finished. It is not worth the trouble of losing one’s time + staying here.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar went to London, always with the firm intention of going into + something. From time to time he wrote a long letter to Ignacio Alzugaray, + telling him his impressions of politics and financial questions. + </p> + <p> + While he was in London his sister joined him and invited him to go to + Florence; two years later she begged him to accompany her to Rome. Cæsar + had always declined to visit the Eternal City, until, on that occasion, he + himself showed a desire to go to Rome with his sister. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. PEOPLE WHO PASS CLOSE BY + </h2> + <h3> + <i>THE SAN MARTINO YOUNG LADIES</i> + </h3> + <p> + Arrived at Rome, Laura and Cæsar went up to the hotel, and were received + by a bald gentleman with a pointed moustache, who showed them into a large + round salon with a very high ceiling. + </p> + <p> + It was a theatrical salon, with antique furniture and large red-velvet + arm-chairs with gilded legs. The enormous mirrors, somewhat tarnished by + age, made the salon appear even larger. On the consoles and cabinets + gleamed objects of majolica and porcelain. + </p> + <p> + The big window of this salon opened on the Piazza Esedra di Termini. Cæsar + and Laura looked out through the glass. It was beginning to rain again; + the great semi-circular extent of the square was shining with rain. + </p> + <p> + The passing trams slipped around the curve in the track; a caravan of + tourists in ten or twelve carriages in file, all with their umbrellas + open, were preparing to visit the monuments of Rome; strolling pedlars + were showing them knick-knacks and religious gewgaws. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar’s and Laura’s rooms were got ready and the manager of the hotel + asked them again if they had need of nothing else. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” said Laura to her brother. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to stretch myself out in bed for a while.” + </p> + <p> + “Lunch at half-past twelve.” + </p> + <p> + “Good, I will get up at that time.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, <i>bambino</i>. Have a good rest. Put on your black suit to + come to the table.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well.” Cæsar stretched himself on the bed, slept off and on, + somewhat feverish from fatigue, and at about twelve he woke at the noise + they made in bringing his luggage into the room. He got up to open the + trunks, washed and dressed, and when the customary gong resounded, he + presented himself in the salon. + </p> + <p> + Laura was chatting with two young ladies and an older lady, the Countess + of San Martino and her daughters. They were in Rome for the season and + lived regularly in Venice. + </p> + <p> + Laura introduced her brother to these ladies, and the Countess pressed + Cæsar’s hand between both of hers, very affectionately. + </p> + <p> + The Countess was tiny and dried-up: a mummy with the face of a grey-hound, + her skin close to her bones, her lips painted, little penetrating blue + eyes, and great vivacity in her movements. She dressed in a showy manner; + wore jewels on her bosom, on her head, on her fingers. + </p> + <p> + The daughters looked like two little blond princesses: with rosy cheeks, + eyebrows like two golden brush-strokes, almost colourless, clear blue eyes + of a heavenly blue, and such small red lips, that on seeing them, the + classical simile of cherries came at once to one’s mind. + </p> + <p> + The Countess of San Martino asked Cæsar like a shot if he was married and + if he hadn’t a sweetheart. Cæsar replied that he was a bachelor and that + he had no sweetheart, and then the Countess came back by asking if he felt + no vocation for matrimony. + </p> + <p> + “No, I believe I don’t,” responded Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + The two young women smiled, and their mother said, with truly diverting + familiarity, that men were becoming impossible. Afterwards she added that + she was anxious for her daughters to marry. + </p> + <p> + “When one of these children is married and has a <i>bambino</i>, I shall + be more contented! If God sent me a <i>cheru-bino del cielo</i>, I + shouldn’t be more so.” + </p> + <p> + Laura laughed, and one of the little blondes remarked with aristocratic + indifference: “Getting married comes first, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + To this the Countess of San Martino observed that she didn’t understand + the behaviour of girls nowadays. + </p> + <p> + “When I was a young thing, I always had five or six beaux at once; but my + daughters haven’t the same idea. They are so indifferent, so superior!” + </p> + <p> + “It seems that you two don’t take all the notice you should,” said Cæsar + to the girls in French. + </p> + <p> + “You see what a mistake it is,” answered one of them, smiling. + </p> + <p> + The last round of the gong sounded and various persons entered the salon. + Laura knew the majority of them and introduced them, as they came, to her + brother. + </p> + <p> + <i>OBSERVATIONS BY CÆSAR</i> + </p> + <p> + The waiter appeared at the door, announced that lunch was ready, and they + all passed into the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + Laura and her brother were installed at a small table beside the window. + </p> + <p> + The dining-room, very large and very high, flaunted decorations copied + from some palace. They consisted of a tapestry with garlands of flowers, + and medallions. In each medallion were the letters S.P.Q.R. and various + epicurean phrases of the Romans: “<i>Carpe diem. Post mortem nulla + voluptas</i>,” et cetera. + </p> + <p> + “Beautiful decoration, but very cold,” said Cæsar. “I should prefer rather + fewer mottoes and a little more warmth.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very hard to please,” retorted Laura. + </p> + <p> + Shortly after getting seated, everybody began to talk from table to table + and even from one end of the room to the other. There was none of that + classic coolness among the people in the hotel which the English have + spread everywhere, along with underdone meat and bottled sauces. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar devoted himself for the first few moments to ethnology. + </p> + <p> + “Even from the people you find here, you can see that there is a great + diversity of ethnic type in Italy,” he said to Laura. “That blond boy and + the Misses San Martino are surely of Saxon origin; the waiter, on the + other hand, swarthy like that, is a Berber.” + </p> + <p> + “Because the blond boy and the San Martines are from the North, and the + waiter must be Neapolitan or Sicilian. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, there is still another type: shown by that dark young woman over + there, with the melancholy air. She must be a Celtic type. What is obvious + is that there is great liveliness in these people, great elegance in their + movements. They are like actors giving a good performance.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar’s observations were interrupted by the arrival of a dark, plump + woman, who came in from the street, accompanied by her daughter, a blond + girl, fat, smiling, and a bit timid. + </p> + <p> + This lady and Laura bowed with much ceremony. + </p> + <p> + “Who is she?” asked Cæsar in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “It is the Countess Brenda,” said Laura. + </p> + <p> + “Another countess! But are all the women here countesses?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t talk nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + At the other end of the dining-room a young Neapolitan with the expression + of a Pulcinella and violent gestures, raised his sing-song voice, talking + very loud and making everybody laugh. + </p> + <p> + After lunching, Cæsar went out to post some cards, and as it was raining + buckets, he took refuge in the arcades of the Piazza Esedra. + </p> + <p> + When he was tired of walking he returned to the hotel, went to his room, + turned on the light, and started to continue his unfinished perusal of + Proudhon’s book on the speculator. + </p> + <p> + And while he read, there came from the salon the notes of a Tzigane waltz + played on the piano. + </p> + <p> + <i>ART, FOR DECEIVED HUSBANDS</i> + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was writing something on the margin of a page when there came a + knock at his door. “Come in,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + It was Laura. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you keeping yourself?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, reading a little.” + </p> + <p> + “But my dear man, we are waiting for you.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “The idea, what for? To talk.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t feel like talking. I am very tired.” + </p> + <p> + “But, <i>bambino; Benedetto</i>. Are you going to live your life avoiding + everybody?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I will come out tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want to do tonight?” + </p> + <p> + “Tonight! Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you want to go to the theatre?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; I have a tremendously weak pulse, and a little fever. My hands + are on fire at this moment.” + </p> + <p> + “What foolishness!” + </p> + <p> + “It’s true.” + </p> + <p> + “So then you won’t come out?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. As you wish.” + </p> + <p> + “When the weather is good, I will go out.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want me to fetch you a Baedeker?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I have no use for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you intend to look at the sights, either?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will look willingly at what comes before my eyes; it wouldn’t + please me if the same thing happened to me that took place in Florence.” + </p> + <p> + “What happened to you in Florence?” + </p> + <p> + “I lost my time lamentably, getting enthusiastic over Botticelli, + Donatello, and a lot of other foolishness, and when I got back to London + it cost me a good deal of work to succeed in forgetting those things and + getting myself settled in my financial investigations again. So that now I + have decided to see nothing except in leisure moments and without + attaching any importance to all those fiddle-faddles.” “But what + childishness! Is it going to distract you so much from your work, from + that serious work you have in hand, to go and see a few pictures or some + statues?” + </p> + <p> + “To see them, no, not exactly; but to occupy myself with them, yes. Art is + a good thing for those who haven’t the strength to live, in realities. It + is a good form of sport for old maids, for deceived husbands who need + consolation, as hysterical persons need morphine....” + </p> + <p> + “And for strong people like you, what is there?” asked Laura, ironically. + </p> + <p> + “For strong people!... Action.” + </p> + <p> + “And you call lying in bed, reading, action?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, when one reads with the intentions I read with.” + </p> + <p> + “And what are they? What is it you are plotting?” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Laura saw that she could not convince her brother, and returned to the + salon. A moment before dinner was announced Cæsar got dressed again in + black, put on his patent-leather shoes, looked at himself offhandedly in + the mirror, saw that he was all right, and joined his sister. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. THE ABBE PRECIOZI. <i>THE BIG BIRDS IN ROME</i> + </h2> + <p> + The next day Cæsar awoke at nine, jumped out of bed, and went to + breakfast. Laura had left word that she would not eat at home. Cæsar took + an umbrella and went out into the street. The weather was very dark but it + held off from rain. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar took the Via Nazionale toward the centre of town. Among the crowd, + some foreigners with red guide-books in their hands, were walking with + long strides to see the sights of Rome, which the code of worldly + snobbishness considers it indispensable to admire. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had no settled goal. On a plan of the city, hung in a newspaper + kiosk, he found the situation of the Piazza Esedra, the hotel and the + adjacent streets, and continued slowly ahead. + </p> + <p> + “How many people there must be who are excited and have an irregular pulse + on arriving for the first time in one of these historic towns,” thought + Cæsar. “I, for my part, was in that situation the first time I clearly + understood the mechanism of the London Exchange.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar continued down the Via Nazionale and stopped in a small square with + a little garden and a palm. Bounding the square on one side arose a + greenish wall, and above this wall, which was adorned with statues, + stretched a high garden with magnificent trees, and among them a great + stone pine. + </p> + <p> + “A beautiful garden to walk in,” said Cæsar. “Perhaps it is an historic + spot, perhaps it isn’t. I am very happy that I don’t know either its name + or its history, if it really has one.” From the same point in the Via + Nazionale, a street with flights of steps could be seen to the left, and + below a white stone column. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing doing; I don’t know what that is either,” thought Cæsar; “the + truth is that one is terribly ignorant. To make matters even, what a well + of knowledge about questions of finance there is in my cranium!” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar continued on to the Piazza Venezia, contemplated the palace of the + Austrian Embassy, yellow, battlemented; and stopped under a big white + umbrella, stuck up to protect the switchman of the tramway. + </p> + <p> + “Here, at least, the weight of tradition or history is not noticeable. I + don’t believe this canvas is a piece of Brutus’s tunic, or of Pompey’s + campaign tent. I feel at home here; this canvas modernizes me.” + </p> + <p> + The square was very animated at that moment: groups of seminarians were + passing in robes of black, red, blue, violet, and sashes of contrasting + colours; monks of all sorts were crossing, smooth-shaven, bearded, in + black, white, brown; foreign priests were conversing in groups, wearing + little dishevelled hats adorned with a tassel; horrible nuns with + moustaches and black moles, and sweet little white nuns, with a coquettish + air. + </p> + <p> + The clerical fauna was admirably represented. A Capuchin friar, + long-bearded and dirty, with the air of a footpad, and an umbrella by way + of a blunderbuss or musket under his arm, was talking to a Sister of + Charity. + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly religion is a very picturesque thing,” murmured Cæsar. “A + spectacular impressario would not have the imagination to think out all + these costumes.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar took the Corso. Before he reached the Piazza Colonna it began to + rain. The coachmen took out enormous umbrellas, all rolled up, opened them + and stood them in iron supports, in such a way that the box-seat was as it + were under a campaign tent. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar took refuge in the entrance to a bazaar. The rain began to assume + the proportions of a downpour. An old friar, with a big beard, a white + habit, and a hood, armed with an untamable umbrella, attempted to cross + the square. The umbrella turned inside out in the gusts of wind, and his + beard seemed to be trying to get away from his face. + </p> + <p> + “Pavero frate!” said one of the crowd, smiling. + </p> + <p> + A priest passed hidden under an umbrella. A tough among the refugees in + the bazaar-doorway said that you couldn’t tell if it was a woman or a + priest, and the cleric, who no doubt heard the remark, threw a severe and + threatening look at the group. + </p> + <p> + It stopped raining, and Cæsar continued his walk along the Corso. He went + a bit out of his way to throw a glance at the Piazza di Spagna. The great + stairway in that square was shining, wet with the rain; a few seminarians + in groups were going up the steps toward the Pincio. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar arrived at the Piazza del Popolo and stopped near some ragamuffins + who were playing a game, throwing coins in the air. A tattered urchin had + written with charcoal on a wall: “Viva Musolino!” and below that he was + drawing a heart pierced by two daggers. + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” murmured Cæsar. “This youngster is like me: an advocate of + action.” + </p> + <p> + It began to rain again; Cæsar decided to turn back. He took the same route + and entered a café on the Corso for lunch. The afternoon turned out + magnificent and Cæsar went wandering about at random. + </p> + <p> + <i>THE CICERONE</i> + </p> + <p> + At twilight he returned to his inn, changed, and went to the salon. Laura + was conversing with a young abbé. “The Abbé Preciozi.... My brother + Cæsar.” + </p> + <p> + The Abbé Preciozi was one of the household of Cardinal Fort, who had sent + him to the hotel to act as cicerone to his nephew. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle has sent the abbé so that he can show you Rome.” “Oh, many thanks!” + answered Cæsar. “I will make use of his knowledge; but I don’t want him to + neglect his occupations or to put himself out on my account.” “No, no. I + am at your disposition,” replied the abbé, “His Eminence has given me + orders to wait on you, and it will not put me out in the least.” + </p> + <p> + “You will have dinner with us, Preciozi?” said Laura. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Marchesa! Thank you so much!” + </p> + <p> + And the abbé bowed ceremoniously. + </p> + <p> + The three dined together, and afterwards went to the salon to chat. One of + the San Martino young ladies played the viola and the other the piano, and + people urged them to exhibit their skill. + </p> + <p> + The talkative Neapolitan turned over the pieces of music in the + music-stand, and after discussing with the two <i>contessinas</i>, he + placed on the rack the “Intermezzo” from <i>Cavalleria Rusticana</i>. + </p> + <p> + The two sisters played, and the listeners made great eulogies about their + ability. + </p> + <p> + Laura presented Cæsar and the Abbé Preciozi to the Countess Brenda and to + a lady who had just arrived from Malta. + </p> + <p> + “Did you know Rome before?” the Countess asked Cæsar in French. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “And how does it strike you?” + </p> + <p> + “My opinion is of no value,” said Cæsar. “I am not an artist. Imagine; my + specialty is financial questions. Up to the present what has given me the + greatest shock is to find that Rome has walls.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t know it?” asked Laura. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear child, I find that you are very ignorant.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you wish?” replied Cæsar in Spanish. “I am inclined to be + ignorant of everything I don’t get anything out of.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar spoke jokingly of a square like a hole in the ground, out of which + rises a white column similar to the one in Paris in the Place Vendôme. + </p> + <p> + “What does he mean? Trajan’s column?” asked Preciozi. “It must be,” said + Laura. “I have a brother who’s a barbarian. Weren’t you in the Forum, + too?” + </p> + <p> + “Which is the Forum? An open space where there are a lot of stones?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I passed by there; there were a good many tourists, crowds of young + ladies peering intently into corners and a gentleman with a bag over his + shoulder who was pointing out some columns with an umbrella. Afterwards I + saw a ticket-window. ‘That doubtless means that one pays to get in,’ I + said, and as the ground was covered with mud and I didn’t care to wet my + feet, I asked a young rascal who was selling post-cards what that place + was. I didn’t quite understand his explanation, which I am sure was very + amusing. He confused Emperors with the Madonna and the saints. I gave the + lad a lira and had some trouble in escaping from there, because he + followed me around everywhere calling me Excellency.” + </p> + <p> + “I think Don Cæsar is making fun of us,” said Preciozi. + </p> + <p> + “No, no.” + </p> + <p> + “But really, how did Rome strike you, on the whole?” asked the abbe. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I find it like a mixture of a monumental great city and a + provincial capital.” + </p> + <p> + “That is possible,” responded the abbe. “Undoubtedly the provincial city + is more of a city than the big modern capitals, where there is nothing to + see but fine hotels on one hand and horrible hovels on the other. If you + came from America, like me, you would see how agreeable you would find the + impression of a city that one gets here. To forget all the geometry, the + streets laid out with a compass, the right angles....” + </p> + <p> + “Probably so.” + </p> + <p> + The abbe seemed to have an interest in gaining Cæsar’s friendship. Cæsar + said to him that, if he wished, they could go to his room to chat and + smoke. The abbe accepted with gusto, and Cæsar, being a suspicious person, + wondered if the Cardinal might have sent the abbe to find out what sort of + man he was. Then he considered that his ideas must be of no importance + whatsoever to his uncle; but on the chance, he set himself to throwing the + abbé off the scent, talking volubly and emitting contradictory opinions + about everything. + </p> + <p> + After chattering a long while and devoting himself to free paradox, Cæsar + thought that for the first session he had not done altogether badly. + Preciozi took leave, promising to come back the next day. + </p> + <p> + “If he reports our conversation to my uncle, the man won’t know what to + think of me,” reflected Cæsar, on going to bed. “It would not be too much + to expect, if His Eminence became interested and sent to fetch me. But I + don’t believe he will; my uncle cannot be intelligent enough to have the + curiosity to know a man like me.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. THE LITTLE INTERESTS OF THE PEOPLE IN A ROMAN HOTEL. <i>INTIMACIES</i> + </h2> + <p> + During some days the main interest of the people in the hotel was the + growing intimacy established between the Marchesa Sciacca, who was the + lady from Malta, and the Neapolitan with the Pulcinella air, Signor + Carminatti. + </p> + <p> + The Maltese must have been haughty and exclusive, to judge from the + queenly air she assumed. Only with the handsome Neapolitan did she behave + amiably. + </p> + <p> + In the dining-room the Maltese sat with her two children, a boy and a + girl, at the other end from where Cæsar and Laura were accustomed to sit. + At her side, at a table close by, chattered and jested the diplomatic + Carminatti. + </p> + <p> + The Marquis of Sciacca was ill with diabetes; he had come to Rome to take + a treatment, and during these days he did not come to the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + The Marchesa was one of those mixed types, unharmonious, common among + mongrel races. Her black hair shone like jet, her lips looked like an + Egyptian’s, and her eyes of a very light blue showed off in a curious way + in her bronzed face. She powdered her face, she painted her lips, she + shaded her eyes with kohl. Her appearance was that of a proud, revengeful + woman. + </p> + <p> + She ate with much nicety, opening her mouth so little that she could put + no more than the tip of her spoon between her lips; with her children she + talked English and Italian in equal perfection, and when she heard young + Carminatti’s facetious remarks she laughed with marked impudence. Signer + Carminatti was tall, with a black moustache, a hooked nose, well-formed + languid eyes, lively and somewhat clownish gestures; he was at the same + time sad and merry, melancholy and smiling, he changed his expression + every moment. He was in the habit of appearing in the salon in a + dinner-jacket, with a large flower in his button-hole and two or three fat + diamonds on his chest. He would come along dragging his feet, would bow, + make a joke, stand mournful; and this fluency of expression, and these + gesticulations, gave him a manner halfway between woman and child. + </p> + <p> + When he grew petulant, especially, he seemed like a woman. “Macché!” he + would say continually, with an acrid voice and the disgusted air of an + hysterical dame. + </p> + <p> + In spite of his frequent petulant fits, he was the person most esteemed by + the ladies of the hotel, both young and married. + </p> + <p> + “He is the darling of the ladies,” the Countess Brenda said of him, + mockingly. + </p> + <p> + Laura had not the least use for him. + </p> + <p> + “I know that type by heart,” she asserted with disdain. + </p> + <p> + During lunch and dinner Signor Carminatti did not leave off talking for a + moment with the Maltese. The Marchesa Sciacca’s children often wanted to + tell their mother something; but she hushed them so as to be able to hear + the bright sayings of the handsome Neapolitan. + </p> + <p> + The San Martino young ladies and the Countess Brenda’s daughter kept + trying to find a way to steal Carminatti for their group; but he always + went back to the Maltese, doubtless because her conversation was more + diverting and spicy. + </p> + <p> + <i>THE CONTESSINA BRENDA</i> + </p> + <p> + The Countess Brenda’s daughter, Beatrice Brenda, in spite of her pea-hen + air, was always endeavouring to stir up the Neapolitan and to start a + conversation with him; but Carminatti in his light-hearted way would reply + with a jest or a fatuous remark and betake himself again to the Marchesa + Sciacca, who would make her disturbing children hush because they often + prevented her from catching what the Neapolitan was saying. + </p> + <p> + She was not to be despised, not by a long shot, was Signorina Bice, not in + any respect; besides being very rich, she was a beautiful girl and + promised to be more beautiful; she had the type of Titian’s women, an + opaline white skin, as though made of mother-of-pearl, plump milky arms, + and dark eyes. The one thing lacking in her was expression. + </p> + <p> + She used frequently to go about in the company of an aristocratic old + maid, very ugly, with red hair and a face like a horse, but very + distinguished, who ate at the next table to Laura and Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + One day Carminatti brought another Neapolitan home to dinner with him, a + fat grotesque person, whom he instigated to emit a series of improprieties + about women and matrimony. Hearing the scandalous sallies of the rustic, + the ladies said, with an amiable smile: + </p> + <p> + “He is a <i>benedetto</i>.” + </p> + <p> + The Contessina Brenda, fascinated by the Neapolitan, went to the Marchesa + Sciacca’s table. As she passed, Carminatti arose with his napkin in one + hand, and gesticulating with the other, said: + </p> + <p> + “Contessina. Allow me to present to you Signor Cappagutti, a merchant from + Naples.” + </p> + <p> + Signor Cappagutti remained leaning back tranquilly in his chair, and the + Contessina burst out laughing and began to move her arms as if somebody + had put a horse-fly on her skirt. Then she raised her hand to her face, to + hide her laughter, and suddenly sat down. + </p> + <p> + <i>DANCING</i> + </p> + <p> + As it rained a great deal the majority of the guests preferred not to go + out. In the evenings they had dances. Cæsar did not appear at the first + one; but his sister told him he ought to go. Cæsar was at the second + dance, so as not to seem too much of an ogre. As he had no intention of + dancing, he installed himself in a corner; and while the dance went on he + kept talking with the Countesses Brenda and San Martino. + </p> + <p> + Various young men had arrived in the room. They exhibited that Southern + vivacity which is a trifle tiresome to the onlooker, and they all listened + to themselves while they spoke. The Neapolitan and two or three of his + friends were introduced to Cæsar; but they showed him a certain rather + ostentatious and impertinent coolness. + </p> + <p> + Signor Carminatti exchanged a few words with the Countess Brenda, and + purposely acted as if he did not notice Cæsar’s presence. + </p> + <p> + The Neapolitan’s chatter did not irritate Cæsar in the slightest, and as + he had no intention of being his rival, he listened to him quite + entertained. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar noted that the San Martino ladies and some friends of theirs had a + predilection for types like Carminatti, swarthy, prattling, and boastful + South Italians. + </p> + <p> + The ladies showed an affectionate familiarity with the girls; they + caressed them and kissed them effusively. + </p> + <p> + <i>YOU ARE AN INQUISITOR</i> + </p> + <p> + Laura, who was dancing with an officer, approached her brother, who was + wedged into a corner, behind two rows of chairs. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here?” she asked him, stopping and informing her + partner that she was going to sit down a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” answered Cæsar, “I am waiting for this waltz to finish, so that + I can get away.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not enjoying yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Pish!” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, there are amusing things about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, surely. Do you know what happened to me with the Countess Brenda?” + </p> + <p> + “What did happen?” + </p> + <p> + “When she came in and gave me her hand, she said: ‘How hot your hands are; + mine are frozen.’ And she held my hands between hers. That was comical.” + </p> + <p> + “Comical! Why?” + </p> + <p> + “How do I know?” + </p> + <p> + “It is comical to you, because you see only evil motives. She held your + hand. Who knows what she may be after? Who knows if she wants to get + something out of you? She has an income of eighty or ninety thousand lire, + perhaps she wants to borrow money from you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I know she doesn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, what are you afraid of?” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid! Afraid of nothing! Only it surprised me.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s because you look at everything with the eye of an inquisitor. One + must be suspicious: be always on one’s guard, always on the watch. It’s + the attitude of a savage.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t deny it. I have no desire to be civilized like these people. But + what does come to me is that the husband of our illustrious and wealthy + friend wears in his breast that porte-bonheur, which I believe is called + horns.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course; and you haven’t discovered that his family is a family of + assassins? How Spanish! What a savage Spaniard I have for a brother!” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar burst into laughter, and taking advantage of the moment when + everybody was going to the buffet, left the room. In the corridor, one of + the San Martino girls, the more sweet and angelic of the two, was in a + corner with one of the dancers, and there was a sound like a kiss. + </p> + <p> + The little blonde made an exclamation of fright; Cæsar behaved as if he + had noticed nothing and kept on his way. + </p> + <p> + “The devil!” exclaimed Cæsar, “that angelic little princess hides in + corners with one of these <i>briganti</i>. And their mother has the face + to say that they don’t know how to bait a hook! I don’t know what more she + could wish. Although it is possible that this is the educational scheme of + the future for marriageable girls.” + </p> + <p> + In the entrance-hall of the hotel were the Marchesa Sciacca’s two + children, attended by a sleeping maid; the little girl, seated on a sofa, + was watching her brother, who walked from one side to the other with a + roll of paper in his hand. In the entrance hall, opposite the hotel door, + there was a bulletin, which was changed every day, to announce the + different performances that were to be given that night at the theatres of + Rome. + </p> + <p> + The small boy walked back and forth in front of the poster, and addressing + himself to a public consisting of the sleeping maid and the little girl, + cried: + </p> + <p> + “Step up, gentlemen! Step up! Now is the time. We are about to perform <i>La + Geisha</i>, the magnificent English operetta. Walk right in! Walk right + in!” + </p> + <p> + While the mother was dancing with the Neapolitan in the ball-room, the + children were amusing themselves thus alone. + </p> + <p> + “The truth is that our civilization is an absurdity. Even the children go + mad,” thought Cæsar, and took refuge in his room. + </p> + <p> + During the whole night he heard from his bed the notes of the waltzes and + two-steps, and dancers’ laughter and shouts and shuffling feet. + </p> + <p> + <i>THEY ARE JUST CHILDREN</i> + </p> + <p> + The next day, Laura, before going out to make a call, appeared at + lunch-time most elegantly dressed, with a gown and a hat from Paris, in + which she was truly most charming. + </p> + <p> + She had a great success: the San Martinos, the Countess Brenda, the other + ladies congratulated her. The hat, above all, seemed ideal to them. + </p> + <p> + Carminatti was in raptures. + </p> + <p> + “<i>E bello, bellissimo</i>,” he said, with great enthusiasm, and all the + ladies agreed that it was <i>bellissimo</i>, lengthening the “s” and + nodding their heads with a gesture of admiration. + </p> + <p> + “And you don’t say anything to me, <i>bambino</i>?” Laura inquired of + Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “I say you are all right.” + </p> + <p> + “And nothing more?” + </p> + <p> + “If you want me to pay you a compliment, I will tell you that you are + pretty enough to make incest legitimate.” “What a barbarian!” murmured + Laura, half laughing, half blushing. + </p> + <p> + “What has he been saying to you?” two or three people inquired. + </p> + <p> + Laura translated his words into Italian, and Carminatti found them + admirable. + </p> + <p> + “Very appropriate! Very witty!” he exclaimed, laughing, and gave Cæsar a + friendly slap on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + The Marchesa Sciacca looked at Laura several times with reflective glances + and a rancorous smile. + </p> + <p> + “The truth is that these Southern people are just children,” thought + Cæsar, mockingly. “What an inveterate preoccupation they have in the + beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + The Neapolitan was one of those most preoccupied with esthetics. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had a room opposite Signor Carminatti’s, and the first few days he + had thought it was a woman’s room. Toilet flasks, sprays, boxes of powder; + the room looked like a perfumery shop. + </p> + <p> + “It is curious,” Cæsar used to think, “how these people from famous + historic towns can combine powder and the <i>maffia</i>, opoponax and + daggers.” + </p> + <p> + Almost every night after dinner there was an improvised dance in the + salon. Somebody played the languorous waltzes of the Tzigane orchestras on + the piano. The Maltese and Carminatti used to sing romantic songs, of the + kind whose words and music seem to be always the same, and in which there + invariably is question of panting, refulgent, love, and other suggestive + words. + </p> + <p> + One Sunday evening, when it was raining, Cæsar stayed in the hotel. + </p> + <p> + In the salon Carminatti was doing sleight-of-hand to entertain the ladies. + Afterwards the Neapolitan was seen pursuing the Marchesa Sciacca and the + two San Martino girls in the corridors. They shrieked shrilly when he + grabbed them around the waist. The devil of a Neapolitan was an expert at + sleight-of-hand. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. THE CONFIDENCES OF THE ABBE PRECIOZI + </h2> + <h3> + <i>NATURAL VARIETIES OF NOSES AND EXPRESSIONS</i> + </h3> + <p> + Cæsar admitted before his conscience that he had no plans, or the + slightest idea what direction to take. The Cardinal, no doubt, did not + feel any desire to know him. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar often proceeded by more or less absurd hypotheses. “Suppose,” he + would think, “that I had an idea, a concrete ambition. In that case it + would behoove me to be reserved on such and such topics and to hint these + and those ideas to people; let’s do it that way, even though it be only + for sport.” + </p> + <p> + Preciozi was the only person who was able to give him any light in his + investigations, because the guests at the hotel, most of them, on account + of their position, thought of nothing but amusing themselves and of giving + themselves airs. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar discovered that Preciozi was ambitious; but besides lacking an + opening, he had not the necessary vigour and imagination to do anything. + </p> + <p> + The abbé spoke a macaronic Spanish, which he had learned in South America, + and which provoked Cæsar’s laughter. He was constantly saying: “My + friend,” and he mingled Gallicisms with a lot of coarse expressions of + Indian or mulatto origin, and with Italian words. Preciozi’s dialect was a + gibberish worthy of Babel. + </p> + <p> + The first day they went out together, the abbé wanted to show him divers + of Rome’s picturesque spots. He led him behind the Quirinal, through the + Via della Panetteria and the Via del Lavatore, where there is a + fruit-market, to the Trevi fountain. “It is beautiful, eh?” said the abbé. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; what I don’t understand,” replied Cæsar, “is why, in a town where + there is so much water, the hotel wash-basins are so small.” + </p> + <p> + Preciozi shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “What types you have in Rome!” Cæsar went on. “What a variety of noses and + expressions! Jesuits with the aspect of savants and plotters; Carmelites + with the appearance of highway men; Dominicans, some with a sensual air, + others with a professorial air. Astuteness, intrigue, brutality, + intelligence, mystic stupor.... And as for priests, what a museum! + Decorative priests, tall, with white shocks of hair and big cassocks; + short priests, swarthy and greasy; noses thin as a knife; warty, fiery + noses. Gross types; distinguished types; pale bloodless faces; red + faces.... What a marvellous collection!” + </p> + <p> + Preciozi listened to Cæsar’s observations and wondered if the Cardinal’s + nephew might be a trifle off his head. + </p> + <p> + “Point out what is noteworthy, so that I may admire it enough,” Cæsar told + him. “I don’t care to burst out in an enthusiastic phrase for something of + no value.” + </p> + <p> + Preciozi laughed at these jokes, as if they were a child’s bright sayings; + but at times Cæsar appeared to him to be an innocent soul, and at other + times a Machiavellian who dissembled his insidious purposes under an + extravagant demeanour. + </p> + <p> + When Preciozi was involved in some historic dissertation, Cæsar used to + ask him ingenuously: + </p> + <p> + “But listen, abbe; does this really interest you?” + </p> + <p> + Preciozi would admit that the past didn’t matter much to him, and then + with one accord, they would burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar said that Preciozi and he were the most anti-historic men going + about in Rome. + </p> + <p> + One morning they went to the Piazza del Campidoglio. It was drizzling; the + wet roofs shone; the sky was grey. + </p> + <p> + “This intrusion of the country into Rome,” said Cæsar, “is what gives the + city its romantic aspect. These hills with trees on them are very pretty.” + </p> + <p> + “Only pretty, Don Cæsar? They are sublime,” retorted Preciozi. + </p> + <p> + “What amazement I shall produce in you, my dear abbé, when I tell you that + all my knowledge in respect to the Capitol reduces itself to the fact that + some orator, I don’t know who, said that near the Capitol is the Tarpeian + Rock.” + </p> + <p> + “You know nothing more about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing more. I don’t know if Cicero said that, or Castelar, or Sir + Robert Peel.” + </p> + <p> + Preciozi burst into merry laughter. + </p> + <p> + “What statue is that?” asked Cæsar, indicating the one in the middle of + the square. + </p> + <p> + “That is Marcus Aurelius.” + </p> + <p> + “An Emperor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, an Emperor and a philosopher.” + </p> + <p> + “And why have they made him riding such a little, potbellied horse?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, man.” + </p> + <p> + “He looks like a man taking a horse to water at a trough. Why does he ride + bare-back? Hadn’t they invented stirrups at that period?” + </p> + <p> + Preciozi was a bit perplexed; before making a reply he gazed at the + statue, and then said, confusedly: + </p> + <p> + “I think so.” + </p> + <p> + They crossed the Piazza Campidoglio and went out by the left side of the + Palazzo del Senatore. Down the Via dell’ Arco di Severo, a street that + runs down steps to the Forum, they saw a large arch that seemed sunk in + the ground, and beyond, further away, another smaller arch with only one + archway, which arose in the distance as if on top of the big arch. A + square yellow tower, burned by the sun, lifted itself among the ruins; + some hills showed rows of romantic cypresses, and in the background the + blue Alban Mountains stood out against a grey sky. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to go down to the Forum?” said the abbé. “Down there where + the stones are? No. What for?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish to see the Tarpeian Rock?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, man. But explain to me what this rock was.” + </p> + <p> + Preciozi got together all his information, which was not much. + </p> + <p> + They went by the Via Monte Tarpea, and came back by the Via della + Consolazione. + </p> + <p> + “They must have thrown people who were already dead off the Tarpeian + Rock,” said Cæsar, after hearing the explanation. + </p> + <p> + “No, no.” + </p> + <p> + “But if they threw them down alive, the majority of those they chucked + down here would not have died. At most they would have dislocated an arm, + a leg, or a finger-joint. Unless they chucked them head first.” + </p> + <p> + Preciozi could not permit the mortal effects of the Tarpeian Rock to be + doubted, and he said that its height had been lessened and the level of + the soil had risen. + </p> + <p> + After these explanations Cæsar found the spot of Roman executions somewhat + less fantastic. + </p> + <p> + “How would you like to go to that church in the Forum?” said Preciozi. + </p> + <p> + “I was going to propose that we should go to the hotel; it must be + lunch-time.” + </p> + <p> + “Come along.” + </p> + <p> + <i>THE CHURCH AND COOKING</i> + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had Marsala and Asti brought for the abbe, who was a gourmet. + </p> + <p> + While Preciozi ate and drank with all his jaws, Cæsar devoted himself to + teasing him. The waiter had brought some cream-puffs and informed them + that that was a dish every one ate that day. Laura and Preciozi praised + the puffs, and Cæsar said: + </p> + <p> + “What an admirable religion ours is! For each day the church has a saint + and a special dish. The truth is that the Catholic Church is very wise; it + has broken all relations with science, but it remains in harmony with + cooking. As Preciozi was a moment ago saying with great exactitude, this + close relation that exists between the Church and the kitchen is moving.” + </p> + <p> + “I said that to you?” asked Preciozi. “What a falsehood!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t pay any attention,” said Laura. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear abbé,” retorted Cæsar, “and I even believe that you added + confidentially that sometimes the Pope in the Vatican gardens, imitating + Francis I after the battle of Pavia, is wont to say sadly to the Secretary + of State: ‘All is lost, save faith and... good cooking.’” + </p> + <p> + “What a <i>bufone!</i> What a bufone!” exclaimed Preciozi, with his mouth + full. + </p> + <p> + “You are giving a proof of irreligion which is in bad taste,” said Laura. + “Only janitors talk like that.” + </p> + <p> + “On such questions I am an honourary janitor.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all right, but you ought to realize that there are religious + people here, like the abbé....” + </p> + <p> + “Preciozi? Why, he’s a Voltairean.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Oh! My friend....” exclaimed Preciozi, emptying a glass of wine. + </p> + <p> + “Voltaireanism,” continued Cæsar. “There is nobody here who has faith, + nobody who makes the little sacrifice of not eating on Fridays in Lent. + Here we are, destroying with our own teeth one of the most beautiful works + of the Church. You will both ask me what that work is....” + </p> + <p> + “No, we will not ask you anything,” said Laura, waving a hand in the air. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is that admirable alimentary harmony sustained by the Church. + During the whole year we are authorized to eat terrestrial animals, and in + Lent aquatic ones only. Promiscuous as we are, we are undoing the + equilibrium between the maritime and the land forces, we are attacking the + peaceful rotation of meat and fish.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a child,” said Preciozi, “we must leave him alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but that will not impede my Spaniard’s heart, my Cardinal’s nephew’s + heart from bleeding grievously.... Shall we go to the café, Abbé?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, let us go.” + </p> + <p> + <i>THE MARVELLOUS BIRD OF ROME</i> + </p> + <p> + They left the hotel and entered a café in the Piazza Esedra. Preciozi made + a vague move to pay, but Cæsar would not permit him to. + </p> + <p> + “What do you wish to do?” said the abbé. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever you like.” + </p> + <p> + “I have to go to the Altemps palace a moment.” + </p> + <p> + “To see my uncle?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; then, if you feel like it, we can take a long walk.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good.” + </p> + <p> + They went towards the centre of the town by the Via Nazionale. It was a + splendid sunny afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Preciozi went into the Altemps palace a moment; Cæsar waited for him in + the street. Then, together they went over to opposite the Castel Sant’ + Angelo, crossed the river, and approached the Piazza di San Pietro. The + atmosphere was wonderfully clear and pure; the suave blue sky seemed to + caress the pinnacles and decorations of the big square. + </p> + <p> + Preciozi met a dirty friar, dark, with a black beard and a mouth from ear + to ear. The abbe showed no great desire to stop and speak with him, but + the other detained him. This party wore a habit of a brown colour and + carried a big umbrella under his arm. + </p> + <p> + “There’s a type!” said Cæsar, when Preciozi rejoined him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is a peasant,” the abbe said with disgust. + </p> + <p> + “If that chap meets any one in the road, he plants his umbrella in his + chest, and demands his money or his... eternal life.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is a disagreeable man,” agreed Preciozi. + </p> + <p> + They continued their walk, through the Piazza Cavallegeri and outside the + walls. As they went up one of the hills there, they could see the façade + of Saint Peter’s continually nearer, with all the huge stone figures on + the cornice. “The fact is that that poor Christ plays a sad rôle there in + the middle,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Oh! My friend,” exclaimed the abbé in protest. + </p> + <p> + “A plebeian Jew in the midst of so many princes of the Church! Doesn’t it + strike you as an absurdity?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not absurd at all.” + </p> + <p> + “The truth is that this religion of yours is Jewish meat with a Roman + sauce.” + </p> + <p> + “And yours? What is yours?” + </p> + <p> + “Mine? I have not got past fetichism. I worship the golden calf. Like the + majority of Catholics.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe it.” + </p> + <p> + They looked back; they could see the dome of the great basilica shining in + the sun; then, to one side, a little viaduct and a tower. + </p> + <p> + “What a wonderful bird you keep in this beautiful cage!” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “What bird?” asked Preciozi. + </p> + <p> + “The Pope, friend Preciozi, the Pope. Not the popinjay, but the Pope in + white. What a very marvellous bird! He has a feather fan like a peacock’s + tail; he speaks like the cockatoo, only he differs from them in being + infallible; and he is infallible, because another bird, also marvellous, + which is called the Holy Ghost, tells him by night everything that takes + place on earth and in heaven. What very picturesque and extravagant + things!” + </p> + <p> + “For you who have no faith everything must be extravagant.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar and Preciozi went on encircling the walls and reading the various + marble tablets set into them, and ascended to the Janiculum, to the + terrace where Garibaldi’s statue stands. + </p> + <p> + <i>POOR TINDARO</i> + </p> + <p> + “But, are you anti-Catholic, seriously?” asked Preciozi. “But do you + believe any one can be a Catholic seriously?” said Cæsar. “I can, yes; + otherwise I shouldn’t be a priest.” + </p> + <p> + “But are you a priest because you believe, or do you make believe that you + believe because you are a priest?” + </p> + <p> + “You are a child. I suppose you hate the Jesuits, like all Liberals.” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose you hate Masons, like all Catholics.” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “No more do I hate Jesuits. What is worse, I read the life of Saint + Ignatius Loyola at school, and he seemed to me a great man.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should think so!” + </p> + <p> + “And the Jesuits have some power still?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, man. They give the Church its direction. Oh, nobody fools the + Society. You can see what happened to Cardinal Tindaro.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what did happen to him,” said Cæsar, with indifference. + </p> + <p> + “No?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Cardinal Tindaro decided to follow the inspirations of the Society + and made many Jesuits Cardinals with the object that when Pope Leo XIII + died, they should elect him Pope; but the Jesuits smelled the rat, and + when Leo XIII got very ill, the Council of Assistants of the Society had a + meeting and decided that Tindaro should not be Pope, and ordered the + Austrian Court to oppose its veto. When the election came, the Jesuit + Cardinals gave Tindaro a fat vote, out of gratitude, but calculated not to + be enough to raise him to the throne, and in case it was, the Austrian + Cardinal and the Hungarian had their Empire’s veto to Tindaro’s election + in their pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “And this Tindaro, is he intelligent?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is indeed; very intelligent. Style Leo XIII.” + </p> + <p> + “Men of weight.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but neither of the two had Pius IX’s spirit.” “And the present one? + He is a poor creature, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, I don’t know....” + </p> + <p> + “And the Society of Jesus, is it on good terms with this Pope?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely. He is their creation.” + </p> + <p> + “So that the Society is really powerful?” + </p> + <p> + “It certainly is! Without a doubt! It has a pleasant rule, and obedience, + and knowledge, and money....” + </p> + <p> + “It has money too, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Has it money? More than enough.” + </p> + <p> + “And in what form? In paper?” + </p> + <p> + “In paper, and in property, and industries; in steamship companies, in + manufactories....” + </p> + <p> + “I would make an admirable business manager.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, your uncle, the Cardinal, could get you put in touch with the + Society.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he a friend of theirs?” + </p> + <p> + “Close as a finger-nail.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was silent a moment, and then said: + </p> + <p> + “And I have heard that the Society of Jesus was, at bottom, an + anti-Christian organization, a branch of Masonry....” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Macché</i>!” exclaimed the abbé. “How could you believe that? Oh, no, + my friend! What an absurdity!” + </p> + <p> + Then, seeing Cæsar burst into laughter, he calmed himself, wondering if he + was making fun of him. + </p> + <p> + They went down the hill, where the monument to Garibaldi flaunts itself, + to the terrace of the Spanish Academy. + </p> + <p> + The view was magnificent; the evening, now falling, was clear; the sky + limpid and transparent. From that height the houses of Rome were spread + out silent, with an air of solemnity, of immobility, of calm. It appeared + a flat town; one did not notice its slopes and its hills; it gave the + impression of a city in stone set under a glass globe. + </p> + <p> + The sky itself, pure and diaphanous, augmented the sensation of withdrawal + and quietude; not a cloud on the horizon, not a spot of smoke in the air; + silence and repose everywhere. The dome of St. Peter’s had the colour of a + cloud, the shrubberies on the Pincio were reddened by the sun, and the + Alban Hills disclosed the little white towns and the smiling villas on + their declivities. + </p> + <p> + Preciozi pointed out domes and towers; Cæsar did not hear him, and he was + thinking, with a certain terror: + </p> + <p> + “We shall die, and these stones will continue to shine in the sunlight of + other winter evenings.” + </p> + <p> + <i>THE VATICAN FAMILY</i> + </p> + <p> + Making an effort with himself, he threw off this painful idea, and turning + to Preciozi, asked: + </p> + <p> + “So you believe that I might have made a nice career in the Church?” + </p> + <p> + “You! I certainly do think so!” exclaimed Preciozi. “With a cardinal for + uncle, <i>che carriera</i> you could have made!” + </p> + <p> + “But are there enough different jobs in the Church?” + </p> + <p> + “From the Pope to the canons and the Papal Guards, you ought to see all + the hierarchies we have at the Vatican. First the Pope, then the Cardinals + in bishop’s orders, next, the Cardinals in priest’s orders, then the + Cardinal’s in deacon’s orders, the Secretaries, the <i>compisteria</i> of + the Holy College of Cardinals, the Patriarchs, Archbishops, Bishops, and + the Pontifical Family.” + </p> + <p> + “Whose family is that? The Pope’s?” + </p> + <p> + “No; it is called that, as who should say, the General Staff of the + Vatican. It is made up of the Palatine Cardinals, the Palatine Prelates, + the Participating Privy Chamberlains, the Archbishops and Bishops + assisting the Pontifical throne, the Domestic Prelates, who form the + College of Apostolic Prothonotaries, the Pontifical Masters of Ceremonies, + the Princes Assisting the Throne, the Privy Participating Cape-and-Sword + Chamberlains, the Privy Numbered Cape-and-Sword Chamberlains....” + </p> + <p> + “Cape-and-Sword! Didn’t I tell you that that poor Christ plays a sorry + part on the façade of Saint Peter’s?” exclaimed Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Why, man?” + </p> + <p> + “Because all this stuff about capes and swords doesn’t seem very fitting + for the soul of a Christian. Unless, of course, the knights of the sword + and cape do not use the sword to wound and the cape for a shield, but only + wield the sword of Faith and the cape of Charity.... And haven’t you any + gentlemen of Bed-and-Board, as they have at the Spanish Court?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a pity. It is so expressive,... bed and board. Bed and board, cape + and sword. Who wouldn’t be satisfied? One must admit that there is nobody + equal to the Church, and next to her a monarchy, when it comes to + inventing pretty things. That is why it is said, and very well said, that + there is no salvation outside of the Church.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a pagan.” + </p> + <p> + “And I believe you are one, too.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Macché</i>!” + </p> + <p> + “What comes after all those Privy Cape-and-Sword Chamberlains, my dear + Abbe?” + </p> + <p> + “Next, there is the Pontifical Noble Guard, the Swiss Papal Guard, the + Palatine Guard of Honour, the Corps of Papal Gendarmes, the Privy + Chaplains, the Privy Clerics, the suite of His Holiness. Next come the + members of the Palatine Administration, the Congregations, and more + Secretaries.” + </p> + <p> + “And do the Cardinals live well?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “How much do they make?” + </p> + <p> + “They get twenty thousand lire fixed salary, besides extras.” + </p> + <p> + “But that is very little!” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly! It used to be much more, at the time of the Papal States. Out + of their twenty thousand lire they have to keep a carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Those that aren’t rich must have a hard time.” + </p> + <p> + “Just imagine, some of them have to live in a third-floor apartment. There + have been some that bought their red robes second-hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “Really.” + </p> + <p> + “Are those robes so expensive?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they are expensive. Quite. They are made of a special cloth + manufactured in Cologne.” + </p> + <p> + “Are there many Cardinals who are not of rich families?” + </p> + <p> + “A great many.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you people have ruined that job.” + </p> + <p> + They went to Trastevere and there they took the tram. Preciozi got out at + the Piazza Venezia and Cæsar went on to the end of the Via Nazionale. + </p> + <p> + <i>A TALK ABOUT MONEY</i> + </p> + <p> + “Where have you been?” asked Laura, on seeing him. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been taking a walk with the abbe.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s evident that you find him more interesting than us women.” + </p> + <p> + “Preciozi is very interesting. He is a Machiavellian. He has a candour + that is assumed and a dulness that is assumed. He plays a little comedy to + get out of paying, at the café or in the tram. He is splendid. I think, if + you will pardon me for saying so, that the Italians are damned close.” + </p> + <p> + “People that have no money are forced to be economical.” + </p> + <p> + “No, that isn’t so. I have known people in Madrid who made three pesetas a + day, and spent two treating a friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, out of ostentation, out of a desire to show off. I don’t like + pretentious people.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I believe I prefer them to skinflints.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s very Spanish. A man wasting money, while his wife and + children are dying of hunger.... The man who won’t learn the value of + money is not the best type.” + </p> + <p> + “Money is filthy. If it were only possible to abolish it!” + </p> + <p> + “For my part, son, I should like less to have it abolished than to have a + great deal of it.” “I shouldn’t. If I could carry out my plans, all I + should need afterwards would be a hut to live in, a garret.” + </p> + <p> + “Our ideas differ.” + </p> + <p> + “These people that need clothes and jewels and perfumes fairly nauseate + me.... All such things are only fit for Jews.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I must surely be a Jewess.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. OLD PALACES, OLD SALONS, OLD LADIES + </h2> + <h3> + <i>THE CARDINAL UNCLE</i> + </h3> + <p> + As the Cardinal gave no indication of curiosity to see Cæsar, Cæsar + several times said to Laura: + </p> + <p> + “We ought to call on uncle, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Do as you choose. He isn’t very anxious to see you. Apparently he takes + you for an unbeliever.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, that has nothing to do with calling on him.” + </p> + <p> + “If you like I will go with you.” + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal lived in the Palazzo Altemps. That palace is situated in the + Via di S. Apellinare, opposite a seminary. The brother and sister + proceeded to the palace one morning, went up the grand staircase, and in a + reception-room they found Preciozi with two other priests, talking + together in low tones. + </p> + <p> + One was a worn, pallid old man, with his nose and the borders of his nasal + appendage extremely red. Cæsar considered that so red a nose in that + livid, ghastly face resembled a lantern in a melancholy landscape lighted + by the evening twilight. This livid person was the house librarian. + </p> + <p> + “His Eminence is very busy,” said Preciozi, after bowing to the callers. + He spoke with a different voice from the one he used outside. “I will go + in, in a moment, and see if you can see him.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar stepped to the window of the reception-room: one could see the court + of the old palace and the colonnade surrounding it. + </p> + <p> + “This house must be very large,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You shall see it later, if you like,” replied the abbé. A little after + this Preciozi disappeared, and reappeared again in the opening of a glass + door, saying, in the discreetly lowered voice which was no doubt that of + his domestic functions: + </p> + <p> + “This way, this way.” + </p> + <p> + They went into a large, cold, shabby room. Through an open door they could + see another bare salon, equally dark and sombre. + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal was seated at a table; he was dressed as a monk and had the + air of being in a bad humour. Laura went promptly to him and kissed his + hand. Cæsar bowed, and as the Cardinal did not deign to look at him, + remained standing, at some distance from the table. + </p> + <p> + Laura, after having saluted her uncle as a pillar of the Church, talked to + him as a relative. The Cardinal cast a rapid glance at Cæsar, and then, + scowling somewhat less, asked him if his mother was well and if he + expected to be long in Rome. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, vexed by this frigid reception, answered shortly in a few cold + words, that all of them were well. + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal’s secretary, who was by the window assisting at the + interview, shot angry looks at Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + After a brief audience, which could not have lasted over five minutes, the + Cardinal said, addressing Laura: + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, my daughter, but I must go on with my work”; and immediately, + without a look at his nephew or his niece, he called the secretary, who + brought him a portfolio of papers. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar opened the glass door for Laura to pass. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to see the palace?” Preciozi asked them. “There are some + antique statues, magnificent marbles, and a chapel where Saint Aniceto’s + body is preserved.” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s leave Saint Aniceto’s body for another day,” Cæsar replied + sardonically. + </p> + <p> + Laura and Cæsar went down the stairway. + </p> + <p> + “There was no need to come, to behave like that,” she said, upset. + </p> + <p> + “How so?” + </p> + <p> + “How so! You behaved like a savage, no more nor less.” “No, he was the one + that behaved like a savage. I bowed to him, and he wasn’t willing even to + look at me.” + </p> + <p> + “You made up for it by staring at him as if he had been some curious + insect in a cage.” + </p> + <p> + “It was his fault for not being even barely polite to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think that a Cardinal is an ordinary person to whom you say: + ‘Hello! How are you? How’s business?’” + </p> + <p> + “I met an English Cabinet Minister in a club once and he was like anybody + else.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not the same thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe that perhaps our uncle considers that he fulfils a + providential mission, a divine mission?” + </p> + <p> + “What a question! Of course he does.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he is a poor idiot. However, it’s nothing to me. Our uncle is a + stupid fool.” + </p> + <p> + “You discovered that in such a little while?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Fanatical, vain, fatuous, pleased with himself.... He is of no use + to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, so you thought he would be of some use to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + Her brother’s arbitrary manner of taking things irritated and at the same + time amused Laura. + </p> + <p> + She believed that he made it a rule to persist in always doing the + contrary to other people. + </p> + <p> + Laura and her friends of both sexes used to run across one another in + museums, out walking in the popular promenades, and at the races. Cæsar + didn’t go to museums, because he said he had no artistic feeling; races + didn’t interest him either; and when it came to walking, he preferred to + wander at random in the streets. + </p> + <p> + As his memory was not full of historical facts, he experienced no great + esthetic or archeological thrills, and no sympathy whatsoever with the + various herds of tourists that went about examining old stones. + </p> + <p> + At night, in the salon, he used to give burlesque descriptions, in his + laconic French, of street scenes: the Italian soldiers with cock-feathers + drooping from a sort of bowler hat, the porters of the Embassies and great + houses, with their cocked hats, their blue great-coats, and the staff with + a silver knob in their hands. + </p> + <p> + The precise, jocose, biting report of his observations offended Laura and + her lady friends. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you hate Italians so much?” the Countess Brenda asked him one day. + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t hate them.” + </p> + <p> + “He speaks equally badly of everybody,” explained Laura. “He has a bad + character.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it because you have had an unhappy life?” the Countess asked, + interested. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t think so,” said Cæsar, feeling like smiling; instead of + which, and without knowing why and without any reason, he put on a sad + look. + </p> + <p> + <i>EXERCISES IN HYPOCRISY</i> + </p> + <p> + Laura, with her feminine perspicacity, noted that from that day on the + Countess looked at Cæsar a great deal and with melancholy smiles; and not + only the mother appeared interested, but the daughter too. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what it is in my brother,” thought Laura; “women are + attracted to him just because he pays no attention to them. And he knows + it; yes, indeed he does, even thought he acts as if he were unconscious of + it. Both mother and daughter taken with him! Carminatti has been routed.” + </p> + <p> + The Countess quickly discovered a great liking for Laura, and as they both + had friends in good Roman society, they made calls together. Laura was + astonished enough to hear Cæsar say that if there was no objection, he + would go with them. + </p> + <p> + “But the majority of our friends are old ladies, devout old ladies.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. But if you come, it is on condition that you say nothing that + would shock them.” “Surely.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar accompanied the Countess Brenda and his sister to various + aristocratic houses, and at every one he heard the same conversation, + about the King, the Pope, the Cardinals, and how few or how many people + there were in the hotels. These topics, together with slanders, + constituted the favourite motive for conversation in the great world. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar conversed with the somewhat flaccid old ladies (“castanae molles,” + as Preciozi called them) with perfect hypocrisy; he regarded the classic + decorations of the salons, and while he listened to rather strange French + and to most elegant and pure Italian, he wondered if there might be + somebody among all this Papal society whom he could use to forward his + ambitions. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes among the guests he would meet a young “monsignor,” discreetly + smiling, whose emerald ring it was necessary to kiss. Cæsar would kiss it + and say to himself: “Let us practise tolerance with our lips.” + </p> + <p> + In many of these salons the mania for the English game called “bridge” had + caught with great violence. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar hated card-games. For a man who made a study of the stock-exchange, + the mechanism of a card-game was too stupid to arouse any interest. But he + had no objection to playing and losing. + </p> + <p> + The Countesses Brenda and San Martino had “bridge-mania” very hard, and + they used to go to Brenda’s room in the evening to play. + </p> + <p> + After playing bridge a week, Cæsar found that his money was insensibly + melting away. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” he said to Laura. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “You have got to teach me bridge.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know how to play, because I have no head for such things and I + forget what cards have been played; but they gave me a little book on the + game. I will lend it to you, if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, give me it.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar read the book, learned the intricacies of the game, and the next few + evenings he acquitted himself so well that the Countess of San Martino + marched off to her room with burning cheeks and almost in tears. + </p> + <p> + “What a cad you are!” Laura said to him at lunch some days later, + laughing. “You are fleecing those women.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s their own fault. Why did they take advantage of my innocence?” + </p> + <p> + “They have decided to go and play in Carminatti’s room without telling + you.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, <i>bambino</i>, I have to go away for a few days.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “To Naples. Come with me.” + </p> + <p> + “No; I have things to do here. I will take you to the station.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you rascal! You are a Don Juan.” + </p> + <p> + “No, dear sister. I am a financier.” + </p> + <p> + “I can see your victims from here. But I shall put them on their guard. + You are a blood-thirsty hyena. You like to collect hearts the way the + Red-skins did scalps.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean coupons.” + </p> + <p> + “No, hearts. You like to pretend to be simple, because you are wicked. I + will tell the Countess Brenda and her daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to tell them?” + </p> + <p> + “That you are wicked, that you have a hyena’s heart, that you want to ruin + them.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t tell them that, because it will make them fall in love with me. A + hyena-hearted man is always run after by the ladies.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right. Come along, go to Naples with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Is your husband such a terrible bore, little sister?” + </p> + <p> + “A little more cream and a little less impertinence, <i>bambino</i>,” said + Laura, holding out her plate with a comic gesture. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar burst out laughing, and after lunch he took Laura to the station and + remained in Rome alone. His two chief occupations consisted in making love + respectfully to the Countess Brenda and going to walk with Preciozi. + </p> + <p> + The Countess Brenda was manifestly coming around; in the evening Cæsar + would take a seat beside her and start a serious conversation about + religious and philosophical matters. The Countess was a well-educated and + religious woman; but beneath all her culture one could see the ardent dark + woman, still young, and with intense eyes. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar made it a spiritual training to talk to the Countess. She often + turned the conversation to questions of love, and discussed them with + apparent keenness and insight, but it was evident that all her ideas about + love came out of novels. Beyond a doubt, her calm, vulgar husband did not + fill up the emptiness of her soul, because the Countess was discontented + and had a vague hope that somewhere, above or beneath the commonplaces of + the day, there was a mysterious region where the ineffable reigned. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, who hadn’t much faith in the ineffable, used to listen to her with + a certain amazement, as if the plump, strong woman had been a visionary + incapable of understanding reality. + </p> + <p> + In the daytime Cæsar went walking with Preciozi and they talked of their + respective plans. + </p> + <p> + <i>SOLITARY WALKS</i> + </p> + <p> + Often Cæsar went out alone, chewing the end of his thoughts as he strolled + in the streets, working out possible schemes of investments or of + politics. + </p> + <p> + When he got away from the main streets, he kept finding some corner at + every step that left him astonished at its fantastic, theatrical air. + Suddenly he would discover himself before a high wall, on top of which + were statues covered with moss, or huge terra-cotta jars. Those + decorations would stand out against the dark foliage of the Roman ilex and + the tall, black cypresses. At the end of a street would rise a tall palm, + drooping its branches over a little square, or a stone pine, like the one + in the Aldobrandini garden. + </p> + <p> + “These people were real artists,” Cæsar would murmur, and mean it as a + fact, not taking it for either praise or blame. + </p> + <p> + His curiosity got excited, despite his determination not to resemble a + tourist in any way. The low windows of a palace would let him see lofty + ceilings with great stretches of painting, or decorated with medallions + and legends; a balcony would display a thick curtain of ivy that hid the + railings; here he would read a Latin inscription cut in a marble tablet, + there he would come upon a black lane between two old houses, with a + battered lantern at its entrance. In the part of town between the Corso + and the Tiber, which is full of narrow, crooked old streets, he loved to + wander until he was lost. + </p> + <p> + Some details already familiar, he was delighted to see again; he always + halted to look down the Via della Pillotta, with its arches over the + street; and the little flower-market in the Piazza di Spagna always gave + him a sensation of joy. + </p> + <p> + At dusk Cæsar would walk in the centre of town; the bars filled up with + people who loved to take cakes and sweet wine; on the sidewalks the + itinerant merchants cried their trifling wares; along the Corso a + procession of carriages full of tourists passed rapidly, and a few + well-appointed victorias came driving back from the Pincio and the Villa + Borghese. + </p> + <p> + Once in a while Cæsar went out in the evening after dinner. There was + scant animation in the streets, theatres didn’t interest him, and he would + soon return to the hotel salon to chat with the Countess Brenda. + </p> + <p> + Later, in his room, he would write to Alzugaray, giving him his + impressions. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. NEW ACQUAINTANCES + </h2> + <h3> + “I PROTESTANTI DELLA SIMPATÍA” + </h3> + <p> + It began again to rain disastrously; the days were made up of downpours + and squalls, to the great despair of the foreigners. + </p> + <p> + At night the Piazza Esedra was a fine sight from the hotel balcony. The + arc lights reflected their glow in the lakes of rain beneath them, and the + great jet of the fountain in the centre took on tones of blue and + mother-of-pearl, where the rays of the electric light pierced through it. + </p> + <p> + In the hotel parlour one dance followed another. Everybody complained + gaily of the bad weather. + </p> + <p> + Shortly before the middle of Lent there arrived a Parisian family at the + hotel, composed of a mother with two daughters and a companion. + </p> + <p> + This family might be considered a representation of the <i>entente + cordiale</i>. The mother was French, the widow first of a Spaniard, Señor + Sandoval, by whom she had had one daughter, and then of an Englishman, Mr. + Dawson, by whom she had had another. + </p> + <p> + Mme. Dawson was a fat, imposing lady, with tremendous brilliants in her + ears and somewhat theatrical clothes; Mile. Sandoval, the elder daughter, + was of Arab type, with black eyes, an aquiline nose, pale rose-coloured + lips, and a malicious smile, full of mystery, as if it revealed restless + and diabolical intentions. + </p> + <p> + Her half-sister, Mile. Dawson, was a contrast, being the perfect type of a + grotesque Englishwoman, with a skin like a beet, and freckles. + </p> + <p> + The governess, Mile. Cadet, was not at all pretty, but she was gay and + sprightly. These four women seated in the middle of the dining-room, a + little stiff, a little out of temper, seemed, particularly the first few + days, to defy anybody that might have wished to approach them. They + replied coolly to the formal bows of the other guests, and none of them + cared to take part in the dances. + </p> + <p> + The handsome Signor Carminatti shot incendiary glances at Mlle. de + Sandoval; but she remained scornful; so one evening, as the Dawson family + came out of the dining-room, the Neapolitan waved his hand toward them and + said: + </p> + <p> + “I protestante della simpatia.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar made much of this phrase, because it was apt, and he took it that + Carminatti considered the ladies protestants against friendliness, because + they had paid no attention to the charms that he displayed in their + honour. + </p> + <p> + <i>CONSEQUENCES OF THE RAIN</i> + </p> + <p> + Two or three days later Mme. Dawson bowed to Cæsar on passing him in the + hall, and asked him: + </p> + <p> + “Aren’t you Spanish?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madam.” + </p> + <p> + “But don’t you speak French?” + </p> + <p> + “Very little.” + </p> + <p> + “My daughter is Spanish too.” + </p> + <p> + “She is a perfect Spanish type.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” asked the daughter referred to. + </p> + <p> + “Thoroughly.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I am happy.” + </p> + <p> + In the evening, after dinner, Cæsar again joined Mme. Dawson and began to + talk with her. The Frenchwoman had a tendency to philosophize, to + criticize, and to find out everything. She had no great capacity for + admiration, and nothing she saw succeeded in dragging warm eulogies from + her lips. There was none of the “<i>bello! bellissimo!</i>” of the Italian + ladies in her talk, but a series of exact epithets. + </p> + <p> + Mme. Dawson had left all her capacity for admiration in France, and was + visiting Italy for the purpose of arriving as soon as possible at the + conclusion that there is no town like Paris, no nation like the French, + and it didn’t matter much to Cæsar whether he agreed or denied it. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. de Sandoval had a great curiosity about things in Spain and an + absurd idea about everything Spanish. + </p> + <p> + “It seems impossible,” thought Cæsar, “how stupid French people are about + whatsoever is not French.” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. de Sandoval asked Cæsar a lot of questions, and finally, with an + ironic gesture, said to him: + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t let us keep you from going to talk with the Countess Brenda. + She is looking over at you a great deal.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar became a trifle dubious; indeed, the Countess was looking at him in + a fixed and disdainful way. + </p> + <p> + “The Countess is a very intelligent woman,” said Cæsar; “I think you would + all like her very much.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. Dawson said nothing; Cæsar rose, took his leave of the family, and + went over to speak to the Countess and her daughter. She received him + coldly. Cæsar thought he would stay long enough to be polite and then get + away, when Carminatti, speaking to him in a very friendly way and calling + him “<i>mio caro</i>,” asked him to introduce him to Mme. Dawson. + </p> + <p> + He did so, and when he had left the handsome Neapolitan leaning back in a + chair beside the French ladies, he made the excuse that he had a letter to + write, and said good-night. + </p> + <p> + “I see that you are an ogre,” said Mlle. de Sandoval. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want me for anything?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; you may go when you choose.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar repaired to his room. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mind those people,” he said; “but if they think I am a man made + for entertaining ladies, they are very clever.” + </p> + <p> + The next day Mme. Dawson talked with Cæsar very affably, and Mlle. de + Sandoval made a few ironical remarks about his savage ways. + </p> + <p> + Of all the family Cæsar conceived that Mlle. Cadet was the most + intelligent. She was a French country girl, very jovial, blond, with a + turned-up nose, and on the whole insignificant looking. When she spoke, + her voice had certain falsetto inflexions that were very comical. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Cadet was on to everything the moment it happened. Cæsar asked her + jokingly about the people in the hotel, and he was thunderstruck to find + that she had discovered in three or four days who all the guests were and + where they came from. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Cadet also told him that Carminatti had sent an ardent declaration + of love to the Sandoval girl the first day he saw her. + </p> + <p> + “The devil!” exclaimed Cæsar. “What an inflammable Neapolitan it is! And + what did she reply?” + </p> + <p> + “What would she reply? Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “As you are already familiar with everything going on here,” said Cæsar, + “I am going to ask you a question: what is the noise in the court every + night? I am always thinking of asking somebody.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is charging the accumulator of the lift,” replied Mlle. Cadet. + </p> + <p> + “You have relieved me from a terrible doubt which worried me.” + </p> + <p> + “I have never heard a noise,” said Mlle. de Sandoval, breaking into the + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “That’s because your room is on the square,” Cæsar answered, “and the + noise is in the court; on the poor side of the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! There is no reason to complain,” remarked Mlle. Cadet, “if they + give us a serenade.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you consider yourself poor?” Mlle. de Sandoval asked Cæsar, + disdainfully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I consider myself poor, because I am.” + </p> + <p> + During the following days Mme. Dawson and her daughters were introduced to + the rest of the people in the hotel, and became intimate with them. The + “Contessina” Brenda and the San Martino girls made friends with the French + girls, and the Neapolitan and his gentlemen friends flitted among them + all. + </p> + <p> + The Countess Brenda at first behaved somewhat stiff with Mme. Dawson and + her daughters, but later she little by little submitted and permitted them + to be her friends. + </p> + <p> + She introduced the French ladies to the other ladies in the hotel; but + doubtless her aristocratic ideas would not allow her to consider Mlle. + Cadet a person worthy to be introduced, for whenever she got to her she + acted as if she didn’t know her. + </p> + <p> + The governess, noticing this repeated contempt, would blush at it, and + once she murmured, addressing Cæsar with tears ready to escape from her + eyes: + </p> + <p> + “That’s a nice thing to do! Just because I am poor, I don’t think they + ought to despise me.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t pay any attention,” said Cæsar, quite aloud; “these middle-class + people are often very rude.” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. de Sandoval gave Cæsar a look half startled and half reproving; and + he explained, smiling: + </p> + <p> + “I was telling Mlle. Cadet a funny story.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. Dawson and her daughters soon became friends with the most + distinguished persons in the hotel; only the Marchesa Sciacca, the + Maltese, avoided them as if they inspired her with profound contempt. + </p> + <p> + In a few days the Countess Brenda and Cæsar’s friendship passed beyond the + bonds of friendship; but in the course of time it cooled off again. + </p> + <p> + <i>INFLUENCE OF THE INCLINATION OF THE EARTH’S AXIS ON WHAT IS CALLED LOVE</i> + </p> + <p> + One evening, when the Countess Brenda’s daughter had left Rome to go with + her father to a villa they owned in the North, the Countess and Cæsar had + a long conversation in the salon. They were alone; a great tenor was + singing at the Costanzi, and the whole hotel was at the theatre. The + Countess chatted with Cæsar, she reclining in a chaise longue, and he + seated in a low chair. That evening the Countess was feeling in a + provocative humour, and she made fun of Cæsar’s mode of life and his + ideas, not with the phrases and the manners of a great lady, but with the + boldness and spice of a woman of the people. + </p> + <p> + The angle that the earth’s axis makes with the trajectory of the ecliptic, + and which produces those absurd phenomena that we Spaniards call seasons, + determined at that period the arrival of spring, and spring had no doubt + shaken the Countess Brenda’s nerves. + </p> + <p> + Spring gave cooling inflexions to the lady’s voice and made her express + herself with warmth and with a shamelessly libertine air. + </p> + <p> + No doubt the core of her personality was joyful, provoking, and somewhat + licentious. + </p> + <p> + Her eyes flashed, and on her lips there was a sensual expression of + challenge and mockery. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, that evening, without knowing why, was dull at expressing himself, + and depressed. Some of the Countess’s questions left him in a stupid + unreadiness. + </p> + <p> + “Poor child; I am sorry for you,” she suddenly said. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you are so weak; you have such an air of exhaustion. What do you + do to make you like this? I am sure you ought to be given some sort of + iron tonic, like the anaemic girls.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really think I am so weak?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it written all over you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, anyway, I am stronger than you, Countess.” + </p> + <p> + “In a discussion, perhaps. But otherwise.... You have no strength except + in your brains.” + </p> + <p> + “And in my hands. Give me your hand.” + </p> + <p> + The Countess gave him her hand and Cæsar pressed it tighter and tighter. + </p> + <p> + “You are strong after all,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “That is nothing. You wait,” and Cæsar squeezed the Countess’s hand until + he made her give a sharp scream. A servant entered the salon. “It’s + nothing,” said the Countess, getting up; “I seemed to have turned my + foot.” + </p> + <p> + “I will take you to your room,” exclaimed Cæsar, offering her his arm. + </p> + <p> + “No, no. Thanks very much.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It has to be.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, all right,” she murmured, and added, “Now you frighten me.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah, you will get over that!” and Cæsar went into her room with her.... + </p> + <p> + The next day Cæsar appeared in the salon looking as if he had been buried + and dug up. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” Mme. Dawson and her daughters asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing; only I had a headache and I took a big dose of antipyrine.” + </p> + <p> + The relations of the Brenda lady and Cæsar soon cooled. Their temperaments + were incompatible: there was no harmony between their imaginations or + between their skins. In reality, the Countess, with all her romanticism, + did not care for long and compromising liaisons, but for hotel adventures, + which leave neither vivid memories nor deep imprints. Cæsar noted that + despite her lyricism and her sentimental talk, there was a great deal of + firmness in this plump woman, and a lack of sensitiveness. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, this woman, so little aristocratic in intimacy, had much vanity + about stupid things and a great passion for jewelry; but what contributed + most to making Cæsar feel a profound hatred for her was his discovering + what good health she enjoyed. This good health seemed offensive to Cæsar, + above all when he compared it to his own, to his weak nerves and his + restless brain. + </p> + <p> + From considering her a spiritual and delicate lady he passed to + considering her a powerful mare, which deserved no more than a whip and + spurs. + </p> + <p> + The love-affair contributed to upsetting Cæsar and making him more + sarcastic and biting. This spiritual ulceration of Cæsar’s profoundly + astonished Mlle. Cadet. + </p> + <p> + One day a Roman aristocrat, nothing less than a prince, came to call on + Mme. Dawson. He talked with her, with her daughters, and the Countess + Brenda, and held forth about whether the hotels in Rome were full or + empty, about the <i>pensions</i>, and the food in the restaurants, with a + great wealth of details; afterwards he lamented that Mme. Dawson, as a + relative of his, even though a very distant one, should have gone to a <i>ricevimento</i> + at the French Embassy, and he boasted of belonging to the Black party in + Rome. + </p> + <p> + When he was gone, Mlle. Cadet came over to Cæsar, who was sunk in an + arm-chair gazing at the ceiling, and asked him: + </p> + <p> + “What did you think of the prince?” + </p> + <p> + “What prince?” + </p> + <p> + “The gentleman who was here talking a moment ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, was he a prince?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “As he talked about nothing but hotels, I took him to be the proprietor of + one.” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. Cadet told Mme. Dawson what Cæsar had said, and she and her + daughters were amused at his error. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. A BALL + </h2> + <p> + A little later than the real day, they got up a ball at the hotel in + celebration of the French holiday Micarême. + </p> + <p> + When Cæsar was asked if he thought of going to the ball, he said no; but + Mlle. de Sandoval warned him that if he didn’t go she would never speak to + him again, and Mme. Dawson and the governess threatened him with like + excommunication. + </p> + <p> + “But you know, these balls are very amusing,” said Mme. Dawson. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “I do, and so do you.” + </p> + <p> + “Besides, an observer like you,” added Mlle. Cadet, “can devote himself to + taking notes.” + </p> + <p> + “And why do you conclude that I am an observer?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “The idea! Because it is evident.” + </p> + <p> + “And an observer with very evil intentions,” insisted Mlle. de Sandoval. + </p> + <p> + “You credit me with qualities I haven’t got.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had to accede, and the Dawson ladies and he were the first to enter + the salon and take their seats. In one corner was a glass vase hung from + the ceiling by a pulley. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” Mme. Dawson asked a servant. + </p> + <p> + “It is a glass vase full of bonbons, which you have to break with a pole + with your eyes closed.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes.” + </p> + <p> + Since nobody else came in, the Dawson girls and Cæsar wandered about + looking into the cupboards and finding the Marchesa Sciacca’s music and + the Neapolitan’s. They looked out one of the salon windows. It was a + detestable night, raining and hailing; the great drops were bouncing on + the sidewalks of the Piazza Esedra. Water and hail fell mixed together, + and for moments at a time the ground would stay white, as if covered with + a thin coating of pearls. + </p> + <p> + The fountain in the centre cast up its streams of water, which mingled + with the rain, and the central jet shone in the lays of the arc-lights; + now and again the livid brilliance of lightning illuminated the stone + arches and the rumbling of thunder was heard... + </p> + <p> + Still nobody else came to the salon. Doubtless the ladies were preparing + their toilets very carefully. + </p> + <p> + The first to appear, dressed for the ball, were the Marchesa Sciacca and + her husband, accompanied by the inevitable Carminatti. + </p> + <p> + The Marchesa, with her habitual brutality toward everybody that lived in + the house, bowed with formal coolness to Mme. Dawson, and sat down by the + piano, as far away as possible from the French ladies. + </p> + <p> + She wore a gown of green silk, with lace and gold ornaments. She was very + décolletée and had a fretful air. Her husband was small and stooped, with + a long moustache and shiny eyes; on his cheek-bones were the red spots + frequent in consumptives, and he spoke in a sharp voice. + </p> + <p> + “Are you acquainted with the Marquis?” Mme. Dawson asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is a tiresome busybody,” said Cæsar, “the most boresome fellow + you could find. He stops you in the street to tell you things. The other + day he made me wait a quarter of an hour at the door of a tourist agency, + while he inquired the quickest way of getting to Moscow. ‘Are you thinking + of going there?’ I asked him. ‘No; I just wanted to find out....’ He is an + idiot.” + </p> + <p> + “God preserve us from your comments. What will you be saying about us?” + exclaimed Mlle. de Sandoval. + </p> + <p> + The Countess Brenda entered, with her husband, her daughter, and a friend. + She was dressed in black, low in the neck, and wore a collar of brilliants + as big as filberts, which surrounded her bosom with rays of light and + blinding reflections. + </p> + <p> + Her friend was a young lady of consummate beauty; a brunette with colour + in her skin and features of flawless perfection; with neither the serious + air nor the statuesqueness of a great beauty, and with none of the negroid + tone of most brunettes. When she smiled she showed her teeth, which were a + burst of whiteness. She was rather loaded with jewels, which gave her the + aspect of an ancient goddess. + </p> + <p> + “You, who find everything wrong,” said Mlle. Cadet to Cæsar, “what have + you to say of that woman? I have been looking at her ever since she came + in, and I don’t find the slightest defect.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I. It is a face which gives no indication that the least shadow of + sorrow has ever crossed it. It is beauty as serene as a landscape or as + the sea when calm. Moreover, that very perfection robs it of character. It + seems to be less a human face than a symbol of an apathetic being and an + apathetic beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “We have found her defect,” said Mlle. Cadet. + </p> + <p> + After introducing her friend to the ladies and to the young men, who were + all dazzled, the Countess Brenda sat down near Mme. Dawson, in an antique + arm-chair. + </p> + <p> + She was imposing. + </p> + <p> + “You look like a queen holding audience,” Mlle. de Sandoval said to her. + </p> + <p> + “Your beloved is like an actual monument,” Mlle. Cadet murmured jokingly, + aside to Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think we ought to station a veteran at the door,” retorted Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “A veteran! No, for mercy’s sake! Poor lady! A warrior in active service, + one on whom all the antipyrine in the world would make no impression,” + Mlle. Cadet replied maliciously. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar smiled at the allusion. + </p> + <p> + <i>SILENO MACARRONI</i> + </p> + <p> + Among the people there was one gentlerman that attracted Mlle. Cadet’s + special attention. He was apart from any group, but he knew everybody that + arrived. This gentleman was fat, smiling, smooth-shaven, with a round, + chubby, rosy face and the body of a Silenus. When he spoke he arched and + lowered his eyebrows alternately, rolled his eyes, gesticulated with his + fat, soft hands, and smiled and showed his teeth. + </p> + <p> + His way of greeting people was splendid. + </p> + <p> + “Come sta, marchesa?” he would say. “Cavaliere!” “Commendatore!” “La + contessina va bene?” “Oh! Egregio!” + </p> + <p> + And the good gentleman would spread his arms, and close them, and look as + if he wanted to embrace the whole of humanity to his abdomen, covered with + a white waistcoat. + </p> + <p> + “Who can that gentleman be?” Mlle. Cadet asked various times. + </p> + <p> + “That? That is Signor Sileno Macarroni,” said Cæsar, “Commander of the + Order of the Mighty Belly, Knight of the Round Buttocks, and of other + distinguished Orders.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a singer,” said the Countess Brenda to Mlle. de Sandoval in a low + tone. + </p> + <p> + “He is a singer,” repeated Mlle. de Sandoval to her governess in a similar + tone. + </p> + <p> + “Sileno Macarroni is a singer,” said Mlle. Cadet, with equal + mysteriousness, addressing Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “But is our friend Macarroni going to sung?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + The question was passed from one person to another, and it was discovered + that Macarroni was going to sing. As a matter of fact, the fat Silenus did + sing, and everybody was startled to hear a high tenor voice issue from + within that voluminous human being. The fat Silenus had the misfortune to + sing false in the midst of his bravest trills, and the poor soul was + overcome, despite the applause. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Macarroni!” said Cæsar, “his high tenor heart must be broken to + bits.” “He is going,” put in Mlle. Cadet. “What a shame!” Sileno vanished + and the pianist began to play waltzes. + </p> + <p> + <i>THE WORLD AS A ZOOLOGICAL GARDEN</i> + </p> + <p> + Carminatti was the first on the floor with his partner, who was the + Marchesa Sciacca. + </p> + <p> + The Maltese lady danced with an abandon and a feline languor that imposed + respect. One of the San Martino girls, dressed in white, like a vaporous + fairy, danced with an officer in a blue uniform, a slim, distinguished + person with languid eyes and rosy cheeks, who caused a veritable sensation + among the ladies. + </p> + <p> + The other San Martino, in pale pink, was on a sofa chatting with a man of + the cut-throat type, of jaundiced complexion, with bright eyes and a + moustache so long as almost to touch his eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + “He is a Sicilian,” Mlle. Cadet told Cæsar; “behind us here they are + saying rather curious things about the two of them.” + </p> + <p> + The Countess Brenda’s daughter was magnificent, with her milk-white skin, + and her arms visible through gauze. Despite her beauty she didn’t count + many admirers; she was too insipid, and the majority of the young men + turned with greater enthusiasm to the married women and to those of a very + provocative type. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. de Sandoval, the most sought after of all, didn’t wish to dance. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter is really very stiff,” Mme. Dawson remarked. “Spanish women + are like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they often are,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + Among all these Italians, who were rather theatrical and ridiculous, + insincere and exaggerated, but who had great pliancy and great agility in + their movements and their expression, there was one German family, + consisting of several persons: a married couple with sons and daughters + who seemed to be all made from one piece, cut from the same block. While + the rest were busy with the little incidents of the ball, they were + talking about the Baths of Caracalla, the aqueducts, the Colosseum. The + father, the mother, and the children repeated their lesson in Roman + archeology, which they had learned splendidly. + </p> + <p> + “What very absurd people they are,” murmured Cæsar, watching them. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” said Mlle. de Sandoval. + </p> + <p> + “It appeals to these Germans as their duty to make one parcel of + everything artistic there is in a country and swallow it whole; which + seems to an ignoramus like me, a stupid piece of pretentiousness. The + French, on the contrary, are on more solid ground; they don’t understand + anything that is not French, and they travel to have the pleasure of + saying that Paris is the finest thing on earth.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s great luck to be so perfect as you are,” retorted Mlle. de Sandoval, + violently, “you can see other people’s faults so clearly.” + </p> + <p> + “You mistake,” replied Cæsar, coldly, “I do not rely on my own good + qualities to enable me to speak badly of others.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what do you rely on?” + </p> + <p> + “On my defects.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, have you defects? Do you admit it?” + </p> + <p> + “I not only admit it, but I take pride in having them.” + </p> + <p> + Mlle. de Sandoval turned her head away contemptuously; the twist Cæsar + gave to her questions appeared to irritate her. + </p> + <p> + “Mlle. de Sandoval doesn’t like me much,” said Cæsar to Mlle. Cadet. + </p> + <p> + “No? She generally says nice things about you.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps my clothes appeal to her, or the way I tie my cravat; but my + ideas displease her.” + </p> + <p> + “Because you say such severe things.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say that at this moment? Because I spoke disparagingly of + those Germans? Are they attractive to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! Not at all.” + </p> + <p> + “They look like hunting dogs.” “But whom do you approve of? The English?” + </p> + <p> + “Not the English, either. They are a herd of cattle; sentimental, + ridiculous people who are in ecstatics over their aristocracy and over + their king. Latin peoples are something like cats, they are of the feline + race; a Frenchman is like a fat, well-fed cat; an Italian is like an old + Angora which has kept its beautiful fur; and the Spaniard is like the cats + on a roof, skinny, bare of fur, almost too weak to howl with despair and + hunger.... Then there are the ophidians, the Jews, the Greeks, the + Armenians....” + </p> + <p> + “Then for you the world is a zoological garden?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + At midnight they tried to break the glass jar of bonbons. They blindfolded + various men, and one by one they made them turn around a couple of times + and then try to break the jar with a stick. + </p> + <p> + It was the Marquis Sciacca that did break the glass vase, and the pieces + fell on his head. + </p> + <p> + “Have you hurt yourself?” people asked him. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Cæsar, reassuringly, but aside; “his head is protected.” + </p> + <p> + <i>CHIROMANTIC INTERLUDE</i> + </p> + <p> + After this cornucopia number, there was a series of other games and + amusements, which required a hand-glass, a candle, and a bottle. The + conversation in Mlle. de Sandoval’s group jumped from one thing to another + and finally arrived at palmistry. + </p> + <p> + Mlle. de Sandoval asked Cæsar if he, as a Spaniard, knew how to tell + fortunes by the hand, and he jokingly replied that he did. Three or four + hands were stretched out toward Cæsar, and he said whatsoever his + imagination suggested, foolishness, absurdities, impertinences; a little + of everything. + </p> + <p> + When anybody was a bit puzzled at Cæsar’s words, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Don’t pay any attention to it; these are absurdities.” + </p> + <p> + Afterwards Mlle. Cadet told Cæsar that she was going to cast his + horoscope. “Good! Out with it.” + </p> + <p> + The governess, who was clever, studied Cæsar’s hand and expressed herself + in sibylline terms: + </p> + <p> + “You have something of everything, a little of some things and a great + deal of others; you are not a harmonious individual.” + </p> + <p> + “No?” + </p> + <p> + “No. You are very intelligent.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Let the sibyl talk,” said the Sandoval girl. + </p> + <p> + “You have a strong sense of logic,” the governess went on. + </p> + <p> + “That’s possible.” + </p> + <p> + “You are good and bad! You have much imagination and very little; you are + at the same time very brave and very timid. You have a loving nature, but + it is asleep, and little will-power.” + </p> + <p> + “Little and... a great deal,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “No, little.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe that I have little will-power?” + </p> + <p> + “I am telling you what your hand says.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here. My hand’s opinion doesn’t interest me so much as yours, + because you are an intelligent woman. Do you believe I have no + will-power?” + </p> + <p> + “A sibyl doesn’t discuss her affirmations.” + </p> + <p> + “Now you are worried about your lack of will-power,” said Mlle. de + Sandoval, mockingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am, a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think you have will-power enough,” she retorted; “what you do + lack is a little more amiability.” + </p> + <p> + “Fortunately for you and for me, you are not so perspicacious in + psychology as this young lady.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t expect to earn my living telling fortunes.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe this young lady expects to, either. You have told me what + I am,” Cæsar pursued; “now tell me what is going to happen to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me look,” said Mlle. Cadet; “close your hand. You will make a + journey.” “Very good! I like that.” + </p> + <p> + “You will get into a desperate struggle....” + </p> + <p> + “I like that, too.” + </p> + <p> + “And you will win, and you will be defeated....” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t like that so much.” + </p> + <p> + Mile. Cadet could not give other details. Her sibylline science extended + no further. During this chiromantic interlude, the dancing kept up, until + finally, about three in the morning, the party ended. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. A SOUNDING-LINE IN THE DARK WORLD + </h2> + <h3> + <i>THE ADVICE OF TWO ABBÉS</i> + </h3> + <p> + The Abbé Preciozi several times advised Cæsar to make a new attempt at a + reconciliation with the Cardinal; but Cæsar always refused. + </p> + <p> + “He is a man incapable of understanding me,” he would insist with naïve + arrogance. + </p> + <p> + Preciozi felt a great liking for his new friend, who invited him to meals + at good hotels and treated him very frequently. Almost every morning he + went to call on Cæsar on one pretext or another, and they would go for a + walk and chat about various things. + </p> + <p> + Preciozi was beginning to believe that his friend was a man with a future. + Some explanations that Cæsar gave him about the mechanism of the + stock-exchange convinced the abbé that he was in the presence of a great + financier. + </p> + <p> + Preciozi talked to all his friends and acquaintances about Cardinal Fort’s + nephew, picturing him as an extraordinary man; some took these praises as + a joke; others thought that it was really very possible that the Spaniard + had great talent; only one abbé, who was a teacher in a college, felt a + desire to meet the Cardinal’s nephew, and Preciozi introduced him to + Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + This abbé was named Cittadella, and he was fat, rosy, and blond; he looked + more like a singer than a priest. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar invited the two abbés to dine at a restaurant and requested Preciozi + to do the ordering. + </p> + <p> + “So you are a nephew of Cardinal Fort’s?” asked Cittadella. “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “His own nephew?” + </p> + <p> + “His own nephew; son of his sister.” + </p> + <p> + “And he hasn’t done anything for you?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a pity. He is a man of great influence, of great talent.” + </p> + <p> + “Influence, I believe; talent, I doubt,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no! He is an intelligent man.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have heard that his <i>Theological Commentaries</i> is absolutely + absurd.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no.” + </p> + <p> + “A crude, banal book, full of stupidities....” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Macché</i>!” exclaimed the indignant Preciozi, neglecting the culinary + conflict he was engaged in. + </p> + <p> + “All right. It makes no difference,” replied Cæsar, smiling. “Whether he + is a famous man, as you two say, or a blockhead, as I think, the fact + remains that my uncle doesn’t wish to have anything to do with me.” + </p> + <p> + “You must have done something to him,” said Cittadella. + </p> + <p> + “No; the only thing is that when I was small they told me the Cardinal + wished me to be a priest, and I answered that I didn’t care to be.” + </p> + <p> + “And why so?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me a poor job. It’s evident that one doesn’t make much at + it.” + </p> + <p> + Cittadella sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and what’s more,” Preciozi put in, “this gentleman says to anybody + who cares to listen, that religion is a farce, that Catholicism is like a + dish of Jewish meat with Roman sauce. Is it possible that a Cardinal + should bother about a nephew that talks like that?” + </p> + <p> + The Abbé Cittadella looked very serious and remarked that it is necessary + to believe, or at least to seem to believe, in the truths of religion. + </p> + <p> + “Is the Cardinal supposed to have money?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I should say he is,” replied Preciozi. “Your sister and you will be + the only heirs,” said Cittadella. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” agreed Preciozi. + </p> + <p> + “Has he made a will?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “All the better if he hasn’t,” said one of the abbés. + </p> + <p> + “If we could only poison him,” sighed Cæsar, with melancholy. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t talk of such things just as we are going to eat,” said Preciozi. + </p> + <p> + The dinner was brought, and the two abbés did it the honour it deserved. + </p> + <p> + Preciozi deserved congratulations for his excellent selection. They + ordered good wines and drank merry toasts. + </p> + <p> + “What an admirable secretary Preciozi would be, if I got to be a + personage!” exclaimed Cæsar. “Twenty thousand francs or so salary, his + board, and the duty of choosing the dinner for the next day. That’s my + proposal.” + </p> + <p> + The abbé blushed with pleasure, emptied his glass of wine, and murmured: + </p> + <p> + “If it depended on me!” + </p> + <p> + “The fact is that the way things are arranged today is no good,” said + Cæsar. “A hundred years ago, by the mere fact of being a Cardinal’s + nephew, I should have been somebody.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true,” exclaimed Preciozi. + </p> + <p> + “And as I should have no scruples, and neither would you two, we would + have plunged into life strenuously, and sacked Rome, and the whole world + would be ours.” + </p> + <p> + “You talk like a Cæsar Borgia,” said Preciozi, aroused. “You are a true + Spaniard.” + </p> + <p> + “Today one must have something to stand on,” said Cittadella, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Friend Cittadella,” retorted Cæsar, “I, as you see me here, am the man + who knows the most about financial matters in all Spain, and I believe I + shall soon get to where I can say, in all Europe. I put my knowledge at + the service of whoever pays me. I am like one of your old <i>condottieri</i>, + a mercenary general. I am ready to win battles for the Jewish bank, or + against the Jewish bank, for the Church or against the Church.” + </p> + <p> + “For the Church is better. Against the Church we cannot assist you,” said + Preciozi. + </p> + <p> + “I will try first, for the Church. To whom can you recommend me first?” + </p> + <p> + The two abbés said nothing, and drank in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps Verry would see him,” said Cittadella. + </p> + <p> + “Hm!...” replied Preciozi. “I rather doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a party is he?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “He is one of those <i>prelati</i> that come out of the College of + Nobles,” said Cittadella, “and who get on, even if they are no good. Here + they consider him a haughty Spaniard; they blame him for wearing his + robes, and for always taking an automobile when he goes to Castel + Gandolfo. The priests hate him because he is a Jesuit and a Spaniard.” + </p> + <p> + “And wherein does his strength lie?” + </p> + <p> + “In the Society, and in his knowing several languages. He was educated in + England.” + </p> + <p> + “From what you two tell me of him, he gives me the impression of a fatuous + person.” + </p> + <p> + A bottle of champagne was brought in and the three of them drank, toasting + and touching glasses. + </p> + <p> + “If I were in your place,” said Cittadella, after thinking a long while, + “I shouldn’t try to get at people in high places, but people who are + inconspicuous and yet have influence in your country.” + </p> + <p> + “For instance....” + </p> + <p> + “For instance, Father Herreros, at the convent in Trastevere.” + </p> + <p> + “And Father Miró too,” added Preciozi, “and if you could talk to Father + Ferrer, of the Gregorian University, it wouldn’t be a bad idea.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be more difficult,” said Cittadella. + </p> + <p> + “You could tell them,” Preciozi suggested, “that your uncle the Cardinal + sent you, and hint that he doesn’t want anybody to know that he is backing + you.” “And if somebody should write to my uncle?” + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t say anything definite. You must speak ambiguously. Besides, + in case they did write, we would fix it up in the office.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar began to laugh naïvely. Afterwards, the two abbés, a little excited + by the food and the good wine, started in to have a violent discussion, + speaking Italian. Cæsar paid the bill, and pretending that he had an + urgent engagement, took leave of them and went out. + </p> + <p> + <i>A SPANISH MONK</i> + </p> + <p> + The next day Cæsar went to look up Father Herreros. He had not yet + succeeded in forming a plan. His only idea was to see if he could take + advantage of some chance: to follow a scent and be on the alert, in case + something new should start up on one side or the other. + </p> + <p> + Father Herreros lived in a convent in Trastevere. Cæsar took the tram in + the Piazza Venezia, and got out after crossing the Tiber, near the Via + delle Fratte. + </p> + <p> + He soon found the convent; it had a yellow portal with a Latin inscription + which sang the gymnastic glories of Saint Pascual Bailón. Above the + inscription there was a picture, in which a monk, no doubt Bailón, was + dancing among the clouds. + </p> + <p> + On the lintel of the gate were the arms of Spain, and at the sides, two + medallions bearing hands wounded in the palm. + </p> + <p> + The convent door was old and quartered. Cæsar knocked. + </p> + <p> + A lay-brother, with a suspicious glance, came out to admit him, told him + to wait, and left him alone. After some while, he came back and asked him + to follow him. + </p> + <p> + They went down a small passage and up a staircase, which was at the end, + and then along a corridor on the main floor. On one side of this corridor, + in his cell, they found Father Herreros. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, after bowing and introducing himself, sat down, as the monk asked + him to do, in a chair with its back to the light. Cæsar began to explain + why he had come, and as he had prepared what he was going to say, he + employed his attention, while speaking, on the cage and the kind of big + bird which were before his eyes. + </p> + <p> + Father Herreros had a big rough head, black heavy eyebrows, a short nose, + an enormous mouth, yellow teeth, and grey hair. He wore a + chocolate-coloured robe, open enough to show his whole neck down to his + chest. The movement of the good monk’s lips was that of a man who wished + to pass for keen and insinuating. His robe was dirty and he doubtless had + the habit of leaving cigarette stubs on the table. + </p> + <p> + The cell had one window, and in front of it a bookcase. Cæsar made an + effort to read the titles. They were almost all Latin books, the kind that + nobody reads. + </p> + <p> + Father Herreros began to ask Cæsar questions. In his brain, he was + doubtless wondering why Cardinal Fort’s nephew should come to him. + </p> + <p> + After many useless words they got to the concrete point that Cæsar wanted + to take up, Father Herreros’s acquaintance in Spain, and the monk said + that he knew a very rich widow who had property in Toledo. When Cæsar went + to Madrid, he would give him a letter of recommendation to her. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot keep you any longer now, because a Mexican lady is waiting for + me,” said Father Herreros. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar arose, and after shaking the monk’s fat hand, he left the convent. + He returned to Rome on foot, crossing the river again, and looking at the + Tiberine island; and arrived without hurrying at the hotel. He wrote to + his friend Azugaray, requesting him to discover, by the indications he + gave him, who the rich widow that had property in Toledo could be. + </p> + <p> + <i>THE LICENTIATE MIRÓ</i> + </p> + <p> + The next day Cæsar decided to pursue his investigations, and went to see + Father Miró. + </p> + <p> + Father Miró lived in a college in the Via Monserrato. Cæsar inspected the + map of Rome, looking for that street, and found that it is located in the + vicinity of the Campo de’ Fiori, and took his way thither. + </p> + <p> + The spring day was magnificent; the sky was blue, without a cloud; the + tiled roofs of some of the palaces were decorated with borders of plants + and flowers; in the street, dry and flooded with sunshine, a water-carrier + in a cart full of fat, green bottles, passed by, singing and cracking his + whip. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar crossed the Campo de’ Fiori, a very lively, plebeian square, full of + canvas awnings with open stalls of fruit under them. In the middle stood + the statue of Giordano Bruno, with a crown of flowers around its neck. + </p> + <p> + Then he took the Via de’ Cappellari, a narrow lane and dirty enough. From + one side to the other clothes were hung out to dry. + </p> + <p> + He came to the college and entered the church contiguous to it. He asked + for Father Miró; a sacristan with a long moustache and a worn blue + overcoat, took him to another entrance, made him mount an old wooden + staircase, and conducted him to the office of the man he was looking for. + </p> + <p> + Father Miró was a tiny little man, dark and filthy, with a worn-out + cassock, covered with dandruff, and a large dirty square cap with a big + rosette. + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell me what you want?” said the little priest in a sullen tone. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar introduced himself, and explained in a few words who he was and what + he proposed. + </p> + <p> + Father Miró, without asking him to sit down, answered rapidly, saying that + he had no acquaintance with matters of finance or speculation. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar felt a shudder of anger at the rudeness with which he was treated by + this draggled little priest, and felt a vehement desire to take him by the + neck and twist it, like a chicken’s. + </p> + <p> + Despite his anger, he did not change expression, and he asked the priest + smilingly if he knew who could give him advice about those questions. + </p> + <p> + “You can see Father Ferrer at the Gregorian University, or Father Mendia. + He is an encyclopedist. It was he who wrote the theological portion of the + encyclical <i>Pascendi</i>, the one about Modernism. He is a man of very + great learning.” + </p> + <p> + “He will do. Many thanks,” and Cæsar turned toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me for not having asked you to sit down, but...” + </p> + <p> + “No matter,” Cæsar replied, rapidly, and he went out to the stairs. + </p> + <p> + In view of the poor result of his efforts, he decided to go to the + Gregorian University. He was told it was in the Via del Seminario, and + supposed it must be the large edifice with little windowed bridges over + two streets. + </p> + <p> + That edifice was the Collegio Romano; the Gregorian University was in the + same street, but further on, opposite the Post Office Department. Father + Ferrer could not receive him, because he was holding a class; and after + they had gone up and come down and taken Cæsar’s card for Father Mendia, + they told him he was out. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar concluded that it was not so easy to find a crack through which one + could get information of what was going on in the clerical world. + </p> + <p> + “I see that the Church gives them all a defensive instinct which they make + good use of. They are really only poor devils, but they have a great + organization, and it cannot be easy to get one’s fingers through the + meshes of their net.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. A MEETING ON THE PINCIO + </h2> + <h3> + <i>A WALK IN THE VILLA BORGHESE</i> + </h3> + <p> + At the beginning of Holy Week Laura returned to the hotel, at lunch-time. + </p> + <p> + “And your husband?” Cæsar asked her. + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t want to come. Rome bores him. He is giving all his attention to + taking care of the heart-disease he says he has.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it serious?” + </p> + <p> + “I think not. Every time I see him I find him with a new disease and a new + diet; one time it is vegetarian, another nothing but meat, another time he + says one should eat only grapes, or nothing but bread.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I see that he belongs to the illustrious brotherhood of the insane.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not far from joining that brotherhood yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear sister, I am one of the few sane men that go stumbling around this + insane asylum let loose we call the earth.” + </p> + <p> + “What you say about men is the truth, even though you are not an + exception. Really, the more I have to do with men, the more convinced I am + that any one of them who is not crazy, is stupid or vain or proud.... How + much more intelligent, discreet, logical we women are!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t tell me. You are marvels; modest, kindly toward your rivals, so + little given to humiliating your neighbours, male or female....” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; but we are not so conceited or such play-actors as you are. A + woman may think herself pretty and amiable and sweet, and not be so. That + is true; but on the other hand, every man thinks himself braver than the + Cid, even if he is afraid of a fly, and more talented than Seneca, even if + he is a dolt.” + </p> + <p> + “To sum up, men are a calamity.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so.” + </p> + <p> + “And women spend their lives fishing for these calamities.” + </p> + <p> + “They need them; there are inferior things which still are necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “And there are superior things which are good for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you come and take a drive with me, philosopher brother?” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s go to the Villa Borghese. The carriage will be here in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Let us go there.” + </p> + <p> + A two-horse victoria with rubber tires was waiting at the door, and Laura + and Cæsar got in. The carriage went past the Treasury, and out the Porta + Salaria, and entered the gardens of the Villa Borghese. + </p> + <p> + The morning had been rainy; the ground was damp; the wind waved the + tree-tops gently and caused a murmur like the tide. The carriage rolled + slowly along the avenues. Laura was very gay and chatty. Cæsar listened to + her as one listens to a bird warbling. + </p> + <p> + Many times while listening he thought: “What is there inside this head? + What is the master idea of her life? Has she really any idea about life, + or has she none?” + </p> + <p> + After several rounds they crossed the viaduct that unites the Villa + Borghese with the Pincio gardens. + </p> + <p> + <i>FROM THE PINCIO TERRACE</i> + </p> + <p> + They approached the great terrace of the gardens by an avenue that has + busts of celebrated men along both sides. + </p> + <p> + “Poor great men!” exclaimed Cæsar. “Their statues serve only to decorate a + public garden.” “They had their lives,” replied Laura, gaily; “now we have + ours.” + </p> + <p> + Laura ordered the coachman to stop a moment. The air was still murmuring + in the foliage, the birds singing, and the clouds flying slowly across the + sky. + </p> + <p> + A man with a black box approached the carriage to offer them postcards. + </p> + <p> + “Buy two or three,” said Laura. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar bought a few and put them into his pocket. The vendor withdrew and + Laura continued to look at Rome with enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how beautiful, how lovely it is! I never get tired of looking at it. + It is my favourite city. ‘<i>O fior d’ogni cittá, donna del mondo</i>.’” + </p> + <p> + “She is no longer mistress of the world, little sister.” + </p> + <p> + “For me she is. Look at St. Peter’s. It looks like a shred of cloud.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s so. It’s of a blue shade that seems transparent.” + </p> + <p> + Bells were ringing and great majestic white clouds kept moving along the + horizon; on the Janiculum the statue of Garibaldi rose up gallantly into + the air, like a bird ready to take wing. + </p> + <p> + “When I look at Rome this way,” murmured Laura, “I feel a pang, a pang of + grief.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I remember that I must die, and then I shall not come back to see + Rome. She will be here still, century after century, full of sunlight, and + I shall be dead.... It is horrible, horrible!” + </p> + <p> + “And your religion?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. I believe I shall see other things; but not these things + that are so beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + “You are an Epicurean.” + </p> + <p> + “It is so beautiful to be alive!” + </p> + <p> + They stayed there looking at the panorama. Below, in the Piazza del + Popólo, they saw a red tram slipping along, which looked, at that + distance, like a toy. + </p> + <p> + A tilbury, driven by a woman, stopped near their carriage. The woman was + blond with green eyes, prominent cheek-bones, and a little fur cap. At her + feet lay an enormous dog with long flame-coloured hair. + </p> + <p> + “She must be a Russian,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Do you like that type?” + </p> + <p> + “She has a lot of character. She looks like one of the women that would + order servants to be whipped.” + </p> + <p> + The Russian was smiling vaguely. Laura told the coachman to drive on. They + made a few rounds in the avenues of the Pincio. The music was beginning; a + few carriages, and groups of soldiers and seminarians, crowded around the + bandstand; Laura didn’t care for brass bands, they were too noisy for her, + and she gave the coachman orders to drive to the Corso. + </p> + <p> + <i>MEETING MARCHMONT</i> + </p> + <p> + They passed in front of the Villa Medici, and when they got near the + Piazza, della Trinitá de’ Monti they met a man on horseback, who, on + seeing them, immediately approached the carriage. It was Archibald + Marchmont, who had just arrived in Rome. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you had forgotten us,” said Laura. + </p> + <p> + “I forget you, Marchesa! Never.” + </p> + <p> + “You say you came to Rome....” + </p> + <p> + “From Nice I had to return to London, because my father was seriously ill + with an attack of gout.” + </p> + <p> + “He is well again?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, thank you. You are coming back from a drive?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you want to come and have tea with my wife and me?” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “At the Hotel Excelsior. We are staying there. Will you come?” “All + right.” + </p> + <p> + Laura accepted, and they went to the Via Veneto with the Englishman riding + beside them. + </p> + <p> + They went into the hotel and passed through to the “hall” full of people, + Marchmont sent word to his wife by a servant, to come down. Laura and + Cæsar seated themselves with the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “This hotel is unbearable,” exclaimed Marchmont; “there is nothing here + but Americans.” + </p> + <p> + “Your wife, however, must like that,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “No. Susanna is more European every day, and she doesn’t care for the + shrieking elegance of her compatriots. Besides, her father is here, and + that makes her feel less American.” + </p> + <p> + “It is an odd form of filial enthusiasm,” remarked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t shock me. I almost think it’s the rule,” replied Marchmont; + “at home I could see that my brothers and sisters hated one another + cordially, and that every member of the family wanted to get away from the + others. You two who are so fond of each other are a very rare instance. Is + it frequent in Spain that brothers and sisters like one another?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there are instances of it,” answered Cæsar, laughing. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Marchmont arrived, accompanied by an old man who evidently was her + father, and two other men. Susanna was most smart; she greeted Laura and + Cæsar very affably, and presented her father, Mr. Russell; then she + presented an English author, tall, skinny, with blue eyes, a white beard, + and hair like a halo; and then a young Englishman from the Embassy, a very + distinguished person named Kennedy, who was a Catholic. + </p> + <p> + <i>TEA</i> + </p> + <p> + After the introductions they passed into the dining-room, which was most + impressive. It was an exhibition of very smart women, some of them ideally + beautiful, and idle men. All about them resounded a nasal English of the + American sort. + </p> + <p> + Susanna Marchmont served the tea and did the honours to her guests. They + all talked French, excepting Mr. Russell, who once in a long while uttered + some categorical monosyllable in his own language. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Russell was not of the classic Yankee type; he looked like a vulgar + Englishman. He was a serious man, with a short moustache, grey-headed, + with three or four gold teeth. + </p> + <p> + What to Cæsar seemed wonderful in this gentleman was his economy of words. + There was not one useless expression in his vocabulary, and not the + slightest redundancy; whatever partook of merit, prestige, or nobility was + condensed, for him, to the idea of value; whatever partook of arrangement, + cleanliness, order, was condensed to the word “comfort”; so that Mr. + Russell, with a very few words, had everything specified. + </p> + <p> + To Susanna, imbued with her preoccupation in supreme <i>chic</i>, her + father no doubt did not seem a completely decorative father; but he gave + Cæsar the impression of a forceful man. + </p> + <p> + Near them, at a table close by, was a little blond man, with a hooked nose + and a scanty imperial, in company with a fat lady. They bowed to Marchmont + and his wife. + </p> + <p> + “That gentleman looks like a Jew,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “He is,” replied Marchmont, “that is Señor Pereyra, a rich Jew; of + Portuguese origin, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “How quickly you saw it!” exclaimed Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “He has that air of a sick goat, so frequent in Jews.” + </p> + <p> + “His wife has nothing sickly about her, or thin either,” remarked Laura. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Cæsar; “his wife represents another Biblical type; one of the + fat kine of somebody’s dream, which foretold abundance and a good + harvest.” + </p> + <p> + The Englishman, Kennedy, had also little liking for Jews. + </p> + <p> + “I do not hate a Jew as anti-Christian,” said Cæsar; “but as + super-Christian. Nor do I hate the race, but the tendency they have never + to be producers, but always middlemen, and because they incarnate so well + for our era the love of money, and of joy and pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + The English author was a great partisan of Jews, and he asserted that they + were more distinguished in science and the arts than any other race. The + Jewish question was dropped in an instant, when they saw a smart lady come + in accompanied by a pale man with a black shock of hair and an uneasy eye. + </p> + <p> + “That is the Hungarian violinist Kolozsvar,” said Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “Kolozsvar, Kolozsvar!” they heard everybody saying. + </p> + <p> + “Is he a great virtuoso?” Cæsar asked Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “No, I think not,” answered Kennedy. “It seems that this Hungarian’s + speciality is playing the waltzes and folk-songs of his own country, which + is certainly not anything great; but his successes are not obtained with + the violin, but among the women. The ladies in London fight for him. His + game is to pass himself off as a fallen man, depraved, worn-out. There you + have his phraseology.... They see a man to save, to raise up, and convert + into a great artist, and almost all of them yield to this temptation.” + </p> + <p> + “That is comical,” said Cæsar, looking curiously at the fiddler and his + lady. + </p> + <p> + “To a Spaniard,” replied Kennedy, “it is comical; and probably it would be + to an Italian too; but in England there are many women that have a purely + imaginative idealism, a romanticism fed on ridiculous novels, and they + fall into traps like these, which seem clumsy and grotesque to you here in + the South, where people are more clear-sighted and realistic.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar watched the brave fiddler, who played the role of a man used up, to + great perfection. + </p> + <p> + After tea, Susanna invited them to go up to her rooms, and Laura and her + brother and Kennedy and Mr. Russell went. + </p> + <p> + The English author had met a colleague, with whom he stayed behind + talking, and Marchmont remained in the “hall,” as if it did not seem to + him proper for him to go to his wife’s rooms. + </p> + <p> + Susanna’s rooms were very high, had balconies on the Via Veneto, and were + almost opposite Queen Margherita’s palace. One overlooked the garden and + could see the Queen Mother taking her walks, which is not without its + importance for persons who live in a republic. + </p> + <p> + Susanna was most amiable to Laura; repeated to all of them her invitation + to come and see her again; and after they had all promised to see one + another frequently, Cæsar and Laura went down to their carriage, and took + a turn on the Corso by twilight. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. ESTHETICS AND DEMAGOGY + </h2> + <h3> + <i>SUSANNA AND THE YOUNGSTERS</i> + </h3> + <p> + From this meeting on, Cæsar noticed that Marchmont paid court to Laura + with much persistence. A light-hearted, coquettish woman, it pleased Laura + to be pursued by a person like this Englishman, young, distinguished, and + rich; but she was not prepared to yield. Her bringing-up, her + class-feelings impelled her to consider adultery a heinous thing. Nor was + divorce a solution for her, since accepting it would oblige her to cease + being a Catholic and to quarrel irrevocably with the Cardinal. Marchmont + showed no discretion in the way he paid court to Laura; he cared nothing + about his wife, and talked of her with profound contempt.... + </p> + <p> + Laura found herself besieged by the Englishman; she couldn’t decide to + discourage him entirely, and at critical moments she would take the train, + go off to Naples, and come back two or three days later, doubtless with + more strength for withstanding the siege. + </p> + <p> + “As a matter of reciprocal justice, since he makes love to my sister, I + ought to make love to his wife,” thought Cæsar, and he went several times + to the Hotel Excelsior to call on Susanna. + </p> + <p> + The Yankee wife was full of complaints against her husband. Her father had + advised her simply to get a divorce, but she didn’t want to. She found + such a solution lacking in distinction, and no doubt she considered the + advice of an author in her own country very true, who had given this + triple injunction to the students of a woman’s college: “Do not drink, + that is, do not drink too much; do not smoke, that is, do not smoke too + much; and do not get married, that is, do not get married too much.” + </p> + <p> + It did not seem quite right to Susanna to get married too much. Besides + she had a desire to become a Catholic. One day she questioned Cæsar about + it: + </p> + <p> + “You want to change your religion!” exclaimed Cæsar, “What for? I don’t + believe you are going to find your lost faith by becoming a Catholic.” + </p> + <p> + “And what do you think about it, Kennedy?” Susanna asked the young + Englishman, who was there too. + </p> + <p> + “To me a Catholic woman seems doubly enchanting.” + </p> + <p> + “You would not marry a woman who wasn’t a Catholic?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed,” the Englishman proclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar and Kennedy disagreed about everything. + </p> + <p> + Susanna discussed her plans, and constantly referred to Paul Bourget’s + novel <i>Cosmopolis</i>, which had obviously influenced her in her + inclination for Catholicism. + </p> + <p> + “Are there many Jewish ladies who aspire to be baptized and become + Catholics, as Bourget says?” asked Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” exclaimed Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “You do not believe that either?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it strikes me as a piece of naïvety in this good soul of a novelist. + To become a Catholic, I don’t believe requires more than some few + pesetas.” + </p> + <p> + “You are detestable, as a Cardinal’s nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I don’t perceive that there are any obstacles to prevent + anybody from becoming a Catholic, as there are to prevent his becoming + rich. What a high ambition, to aspire to be a Catholic! While nobody + anywhere does anything but laugh at Catholics; and it has become an axiom: + ‘A Catholic country is a country bound for certain ruin.’” + </p> + <p> + Kennedy burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + Susanna said that she had no real faith, but that she did have a great + enthusiasm for churches and for choirs, for the smell of incense and + religious music. + </p> + <p> + “Spain is the place for all that,” said Kennedy. “Here in Italy the Church + ceremonies are too gay. Not so in Spain; at Toledo, at Burgos, there is an + austerity in the cathedrals, an unworldliness....” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Cæsar; “unhappily we have nothing left there but ceremonies. + At the same time, the people are dying of hunger.” + </p> + <p> + They discussed whether it is better to live in a decorative, esthetic + sphere, or in a more humble and practical one; and Susanna and Kennedy + stood up for the superiority of an esthetic life. + </p> + <p> + As they left the hotel Cæsar said to Kennedy: + </p> + <p> + “Allow me a question. Have you any intentions concerning Mrs. Marchmont?” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you ask?” + </p> + <p> + “Simply because I shouldn’t go to see her often, so as not to be in the + way.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you ever so much. But I have no intentions in relation to her. She + is too beautiful and too rich a woman for a modest employee like me to fix + his eyes on.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! A modest diplomat! That is absurd. It is merely that you don’t take + to her.” + </p> + <p> + “No. It’s because she is a queen. There ought to be some defect in her + face to make her human.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; that’s true. She is too much of a prize beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the defect in the Yankee women; they have no character. The + weight of tradition might be fatal to industry and modern life, but it is + the one thing that creates the spirituality of the old countries. Beyond + contradiction American women have intelligence, beauty, energy, attractive + flashes, but they lack that particular thing created by centuries: + character. At times they have very charming impulses. Have you heard the + story about Prince Torlonia’s wife?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Torlonia’s present wife was an American girl worth millions, who + came with letters to the prince. He took her about Rome, and at the end of + some days he said to her, supposing that the beautiful American had the + intention of marrying: ‘I will introduce some young noblemen to you’; and + she answered: ‘Don’t introduce anybody to me; because you please me more + than anybody’; and she married him.” + </p> + <p> + “It was a pretty impulse.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Americans do things like that on the spur of the moment. But if you + saw a Spanish woman behave that way, it would seem wrong to you.” + </p> + <p> + Chattering amicably they came to the Piazza Esedra. + </p> + <p> + “Would you care to have lunch with me?” said Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “Just what I was going to propose to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I eat alone.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not. I eat with my sister.” + </p> + <p> + “The Marchesa di Vaccarone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must pardon me if I accept your invitation, for I am very + anxious to meet her.” + </p> + <p> + “Then come along.” + </p> + <p> + <i>RUSKIN AND THE PHILISTINES</i> + </p> + <p> + They reached the hotel and Cæsar introduced his friend to Laura. + </p> + <p> + “He is an admirer of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “A respectful admirer... from a distance,” explained Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “But are there admirers of that sort?” asked Laura, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Here you have one,” said the Englishman. “I have known you by sight ever + since I came to Rome, and have never had the pleasure of speaking to you + until today.” + </p> + <p> + “And have you been here a long time?” + </p> + <p> + “Nearly two years.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you like Rome; eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I should say so! At first, I didn’t, I must admit. It was a + disappointment to me. I had dreamed so much about Rome!” and Kennedy + talked of the books and guides he had read about the Eternal City. + </p> + <p> + “I must admit that I had never dreamed about Rome,” said Cæsar. “And you + boast of that?” asked Laura. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t boast of it, I merely state it. I understand how agreeable it + is to know things. Cæsar died here! Cicero made speeches here! Saint Peter + stumbled over this stone! It is fine! But not knowing things is also very + comfortable. I am rather like a barbarian walking indifferently among + monuments he knows nothing about.” + </p> + <p> + “Doesn’t such an idea make you ashamed?” + </p> + <p> + “No, why? It would be a bother to me to know a lot of things offhand. To + pass by a mountain and know how it was thrown up, what it is composed of, + what its flora and fauna are; to get to a town and know its history in + detail.... What things to be interested in! It’s tiresome! I hate history + too much. I far prefer to be ignorant of everything, and especially the + past, and from time to time to offer myself a capricious, arbitrary + explanation.” + </p> + <p> + “But I think that knowing things not only is not tiresome,” said Kennedy, + “but is a great satisfaction.” + </p> + <p> + “You think even learning things is a satisfaction?” + </p> + <p> + “Thousands of years ago one could know things almost without learning + them; nowadays in order to know, one has to learn. That is natural and + logical.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certainly. And the effort to learn about useful things seems natural + and logical to me too, but not to learn about merely agreeable things. To + learn medicine and mechanics is logical; but to learn to look at a picture + or to hear a symphony is an absurdity.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate the neophytes that go to see a Rafael picture or to hear a + Bach sonata and have an exclamation all ready, give me the sad impression + of a flock of lambs. As for your sublime pedagogues of the Ruskin type, + they seem to me to be the fine flower of priggishness, of pedantry, of the + most objectionable bourgeoisie.” + </p> + <p> + “What things your brother is saying!” exclaimed Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “You shouldn’t notice him,” said Laura. + </p> + <p> + “Those artistic pedagogues enrage me; they remind me of Protestant pastors + and of the friars that go around dressed like peasants, and who I think + are called Brothers of the Christian Doctrine. The pedagogues are Brothers + of the Esthetic Doctrine, one of the stupidest inventions that ever + occurred to the English. I don’t know which I find more ridiculous, the + Salvation Army or Ruskin’s books.” + </p> + <p> + “Why have you this hatred for Ruskin?” + </p> + <p> + “I find him an idiot. I only skimmed through a book of his called <i>The + Seven Lamps of Architecture</i>, and the first thing I read was a + paragraph in which he said that to use an imitation diamond or any other + imitation stone was a lie, an imposition, and a sin. I immediately said: + ‘This man who thinks a diamond is the truth and paste a lie, is a stupid + fool who doesn’t deserve to be read.’” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, all right: you take one point of view and he takes another. I + understand why Ruskin wouldn’t please you. What I do not understand is why + you find it absurd that if a person has a desire to penetrate into the + beauties of a symphony or a picture, he should do so. What is there + strange in that?” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” said Cæsar; “whoever wants to learn, should. I have done + so about financial questions.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it true that your brother knows all about questions of money?” Kennedy + asked Laura. + </p> + <p> + “He says so.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t much belief in his financial knowledge.” + </p> + <p> + “No?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I have not. You are a sort of dilettante, half nihilist, half + financier. You would like to pass for a tranquil, well-balanced man, for + what is called a philistine, but you cannot compass it.” + </p> + <p> + “I will compass it. It is true that I want to be a philistine, but a + philistine out in the real world. All those great artists you people + admire, Goethe, Ruskin, were really philistines, who were in the business + of being interested in poetry and statues and pictures.” + </p> + <p> + “Moncada, you are a sophist,” said Kennedy. “Possibly I am wrong in this + discussion,” retorted Cæsar, “but the feeling I have is right. Artists + irritate me; they seem to me like old ladies with a flatulency that + prevents their breathing freely.” + </p> + <p> + Kennedy laughed at the definition. + </p> + <p> + <i>CHIC AND THE REVOLUTION</i> + </p> + <p> + “I understand hating bad kings and conquerors; but artists! What harm do + they do?” said Laura. + </p> + <p> + “Artists are always doing harm to the whole of humanity. They have + invented an esthetic system for the use of the rich, and they have killed + the Revolution. The <i>chic</i> put an end to the Revolution. And now + everything is coming back; enthusiasm for the aristocracy, for the Church; + the cult of kings. People look backward and the Revolutionary movement is + paralysed. The people that irritate me most are those esthetes of the + Ruskin school, for whom everything is religious: having money, buying + jewels, blowing one’s nose... everything is religious. Vulgar creatures, + lackeys that they are!” + </p> + <p> + “My brother is a demagogue,” said Laura ironically. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” added Kennedy; “he doesn’t like categories.” + </p> + <p> + “But each thing has its value whether he likes it or not.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not deny different values, or even categories. There are things of + great value in life; some natural, like youth, beauty, strength; others + more artificial, like money, social position; but this idea of + distinction, of aristocratic fineness, is a farce. It is a literary legend + in the same style as the one current in novels, which tells us that the + aristocrats of old families close their doors to rich Americans, or like + that other story Mrs. Marchmont was talking to us of, about the Jewish + ladies who were crazy to become Catholics.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see what you are trying to prove by all this,” said Laura. + </p> + <p> + “I am trying to prove that all there is underneath distinguished society + is money, for which reason it doesn’t matter if it is destroyed. The + cleverest and finest man, if he has no money, will die of hunger in a + corner. Smart society, which thinks itself superior, will never receive + him, because being really superior and intelligent is of no value on the + market. On the other hand, when it is a question of some very rich brute, + he will succeed in being accepted and fêted by the aristocrats, because + money has a real value, a quotable value, or I’d better say, it is the + only thing that has a quotable value.” + </p> + <p> + “What you are saying isn’t true. A man doesn’t go with the best people + merely because he is rich.” + </p> + <p> + “No, certainly; not immediately. There is a preparatory process. He begins + by robbing people in some miserable little shop, and feels himself + democratic. Then he robs in a bank, and at that period he feels that he is + a Liberal and begins to experience vaguely aristocratic ideas. If business + goes splendidly, the aristocratic ideas get crystallized. Then he can come + to Rome and go into ecstasies over all the humbugs of Catholicism; and + after that, one is authorized to acknowledge that the religion of our + fathers is a beautiful religion, and one finishes by giving a tip to the + Pope, and another to Cardinal Verry, so that they will make him Prince of + the Ecumenical Council or Marquis of the Holy Crusade.” + </p> + <p> + “What very stupid and false ideas,” exclaimed Laura. “Really I appreciate + having a brother who talks in such a vulgar way.” + </p> + <p> + “You are an aristocrat and the truth doesn’t please you. But such are the + facts. I can see the chief of the bureau of Papal titles. What fun he must + have thinking up the most appropriate title for a magnate of Yankee tinned + beef or for an illustrious Andean general! How magnificent it would be to + gather all the Bishops <i>in partibus infidelium</i> and all the people + with Papal titles in one drawing-room! The Bishop of Nicaea discussing + with the Marquis of the Holy Roman Empire; the Marchioness of Easter + Sunday flirting with the Bishop of Sion, while the Patriarchs of Thebes, + Damascus, and Trebizond played bridge with the sausage manufacturer, Mr. + Smiles, the pork king, or with the illustrious General Pérez, the hero of + Guachinanguito. What a moving spectacle it would be!” + </p> + <p> + “You are a clown!” said Laura. + </p> + <p> + “He is a finished satirist,” added Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + <i>CÆSAR’S PLAN</i> + </p> + <p> + After lunch, Laura, Kennedy, and Cæsar went into the salon, and Laura + introduced the Englishman to the San Martino girls and the Countess + Brenda. They stayed there chatting until four o’clock, at which time the + San Martinos got ready to go out in a motor car, and Laura, with the + Countess and her daughter, in a carriage. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar and Kennedy went into the street together. + </p> + <p> + “You are awfully well fixed here,” said Kennedy, “with no Americans, no + Germans, or any other barbarians.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, this hotel is a hive of petty aristocrats.” + </p> + <p> + “Your sister was telling me that you might pick out a very rich wife here, + among the girls.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my sister would like me to live here, in a foreign country, in + cowlike tranquillity, looking at pictures and statues, and travelling + pointlessly. That wouldn’t be living for me; I am not a society man. I + require excitement, danger.... Though I warn you that I am not in the + least courageous.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re not?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. Not now. At moments I believe I could control myself and take + a trench without wavering.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have some fixed plan, haven’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I expect to go back to Spain, and work there.” + </p> + <p> + “At what?” + </p> + <p> + “In politics.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you patriotic?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, up to a certain point. I have no transcendental idea of patriotism + at all. Patriotism, as I interpret it, is a matter of curiosity. I believe + that there is strength in Spain. If this strength could be led in a given + direction, where would it get to? That is my form of patriotism; as I say, + it is an experimental form.” + </p> + <p> + Kennedy looked at Cæsar with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “And how can it help you with your plans to stay here in Rome?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It can help me. In Spain nobody knows me. This is the only place where I + have a certain position, through being the nephew of a Cardinal. I am + trying to build on that. How am I going to arrange it? I don’t know. I am + feeling out my future course, taking soundings.” + </p> + <p> + “But the support you could find here would be all of a clerical nature,” + said Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “Of course.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are not Clerical!” + </p> + <p> + “No; but it is necessary for me to climb. Afterwards there will be time to + change.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not taking it into account, my dear Cæsar, that the Church is + still powerful and that it doesn’t pardon people who impose upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! I am not afraid of it.” + </p> + <p> + “And you were just saying you are not courageous! You are courageous, my + dear man.... After this, I don’t doubt of your success.” + </p> + <p> + “I need data.” + </p> + <p> + “If I can furnish you with any....” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn’t it be disagreeable for you to help a man who is your enemy, so + far as ideas go?” + </p> + <p> + “No; because I am beginning to have some curiosity too, as to whether you + will succeed in doing something. If I can be of any use, let me know.” + </p> + <p> + “I will let you know.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar and Kennedy took a walk about the streets, and at twilight they took + leave of each other affectionately. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. NEW ATTEMPTS, NEW RAMBLES + </h2> + <h3> + <i>CARDINAL SPADA</i> + </h3> + <p> + “I have arranged two interesting conferences for you,” said Kennedy, a few + days later. + </p> + <p> + “My dear man!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; one with Cardinal Spada, the other with the Abbé Tardieu. I have + spoken to them both about you.” + </p> + <p> + “Splendid! What kind of people are they?” + </p> + <p> + “Cardinal Spada is a very intelligent man and a very amiable one. At heart + he is a Liberal and fond of the French. As to the Abbé Tardieu, he is a + very influential priest at the church of San Luigi.” + </p> + <p> + After lunch they went direct to a solitary street in the old part of Rome. + At the door of the big, sad palace where Cardinal Spada lived, a porter + with a cocked hat, a grey greatcoat, and a staff with a silver knob, was + watching the few passers-by. + </p> + <p> + They went in by the broad entry-way, as far as a dark colonnaded court, + paved with big flags which had grass between them. + </p> + <p> + In the middle of the court a fountain shot up a little way and fell into a + stone basin covered with moss. + </p> + <p> + Kennedy and Cæsar mounted the wide monumental stairway; on the first floor + a handsome glassed-in gallery ran around the court. The whole house had an + air of solemnity and sadness. They entered the Cardinal’s office, which + was a large, sad, severe room. + </p> + <p> + Monsignor Spada was a vigorous man, despite his age. He looked frank and + intelligent, but one guessed that there was a hidden bitterness and + desolation in him. He wore a black cassock with red edges and buttons. + </p> + <p> + Kennedy went close and was about to kneel to the Cardinal, but he + prevented him. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar explained his ideas to the Cardinal with modesty. He felt that this + man was worthy of all his respect. + </p> + <p> + Monsignor Spada listened attentively, and then said that he understood + nothing about financial matters, but that on principle he was in favour of + having the administration of all the Church’s property kept entirely at + home, as in the time of Pius IX. Leo XIII had preferred to replace this + paternal method by a trained bureaucracy, but the Church had not gained + anything by it, and they had lost credit through unfortunate negotiations, + buying land and taking mortgages. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar realized that it was useless to attempt to convince a man of the + intelligence and austerity of the Cardinal, and he listened to him + respectfully. + </p> + <p> + Monsignor Spada conversed amiably, he escorted them as far as the door, + and shook hands when they said good-bye. + </p> + <p> + THE ABBÉ TARDIEU + </p> + <p> + Then they went to see the Abbé Tardieu. The abbé lived in the Piazza. + Navona. His office, furnished in modern style, produced the effect of a + violent contrast with Cardinal Spada’s sumptuous study, and yet brought it + to mind. The Abbé Tardieu’s work-room was small, worldly, full of books + and photographs. + </p> + <p> + The abbé, a tall young man, thin, with a rosy face, a long nose, and a + mouth almost from ear to ear, had the air of an astute but jolly person, + and laughed at everything said to him. He was liveliness personified. When + they entered his office he was writing and smoking. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar explained about his financial knowledge, and how he had gone on + acquiring it, until he got to the point where he could discern a law, a + system, in things where others saw nothing more than chance. The Abbé + Tardieu promised that if he knew a way to utilize Cæsar’s knowledge, he + would send him word. In respect to giving him letters of introduction to + influential persons in Spain, he had no objection. + </p> + <p> + They took leave of the abbé. + </p> + <p> + “All this has to go slowly,” said Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “Of course. One cannot insist that it should happen all at once.” + </p> + <p> + <i>BERNINI</i> + </p> + <p> + “If you have nothing to do, let’s take a walk,” said the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “If you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you noticed the fountains in this square?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “They are worth looking at.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar contemplated the central obelisk. It is set on top of a rock + hollowed out like a cavern, in the mouth of which a lion is seen. + Afterwards they looked at the fountains at the ends of the square. + </p> + <p> + “The sculptures are by Bernini,” explained Kennedy. “Bernini belonged to + an epoch that has been very much abused by the critics, but nowadays he is + much praised. He enchants me.” + </p> + <p> + “It is rather a mixed style, don’t you think?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “The artist is not living?” + </p> + <p> + “For heaven’s sake, man! No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if he were alive today they would employ him to make those gewgaws + some people present to leading ladies and to the deputies of their + district. He would be the king of the manufacturers of ornate barometers.” + </p> + <p> + “It is undeniable that Bernini had a baroque taste.” + </p> + <p> + “He gives the impression of a rather pretentious and affected person.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he does. He was an exuberant, luxuriant Neapolitan; but when he + chose he could produce marvels. Haven’t you seen his Saint Teresa?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must see it. Let’s take a carriage.” + </p> + <p> + They drove to the Piazza San Bernardo, a little square containing three + churches and a fountain, and went into Santa Maria della Vittoria. + </p> + <p> + Kennedy went straight toward the high altar, and stopped to the left of + it. + </p> + <p> + In an altar of the transept is to be seen a group carved in marble, + representing the ecstasy of Saint Teresa. Cæsar gazed at it absorbed. The + saint is an attractive young girl, falling backward in a sensual spasm; + her eyes are closed, her mouth open, and her jaw a bit dislocated. In + front of the swooning saint is a little angel who smilingly threatens her + with an arrow. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you think of it?” said Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “It is wonderful,” exclaimed Cæsar. “But it is a bedroom scene, only the + lover has slipped away.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is true.” + </p> + <p> + “It really is pretty; you seem to see the pallor of the saint’s face, the + circles under her eyes, the relaxation of all her muscles. Then the angel + is a little joker who stands there smiling at the ecstasy of the saint.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s true,” said Kennedy; “it is all the more admirable for the + very reason that it is tender, sensual, and charming, all at once.” + </p> + <p> + “However, this sort of thing is not healthy,” murmured Cæsar, “this kind + of vision depletes your life-force. One wants to find the same things + represented in works of art that one ought to look for in life, even if + they are not to be found in life.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Here enters the moralist. You talk like an Englishman,” exclaimed + Kennedy. “Let us go along.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “I have to stop in at the French Embassy a moment; then we can go where + you like.” + </p> + <p> + <i>CORNERS OF ROME</i> + </p> + <p> + They went back to the carriage, and having crossed through the centre of + Rome, got out in front of the Farnese Palace. + </p> + <p> + “I will be out inside of ten minutes,” said Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + The Farnese Palace aroused great admiration in Cæsar; he had never passed + it before. By one of the fountains in the <i>piazza,</i> he stood gazing + at the huge square edifice, which seemed to him like a die cut from an + immense block of stone. + </p> + <p> + “This really gives me an impression of grandeur and force,” he said to + himself. “What a splendid palace! It looks like an ancient knight in full + armour, looking indifferently at everything, sure of his own worth.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar walked from one end of the <i>piazza</i> to the other, absorbed in + the majestic pile of stone. + </p> + <p> + Kennedy surprised him in his contemplation. + </p> + <p> + “Now will you say that you are a good philistine?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well, this palace is magnificent. Here are grandeur, strength, + overwhelming force.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is magnificent; but very uncomfortable, my French colleagues tell + me.” + </p> + <p> + Kennedy related the history of the Farnese Palace to Cæsar. They went + through the Via del Mascherone and came out into the Via Giulia. + </p> + <p> + “This Via Giulia is a street in a provincial capital,” said Kennedy; + “always sad and deserted; a Cardinal or two who like isolation are still + living here.” + </p> + <p> + At the entrance to the Via dei Farnesi, Cæsar stopped to look at two + marble tablets set into the wall at the two sides of a chapel door. + </p> + <p> + Cut on the tablets were skeletons painted black; on one, the words: “Alms + for the poor dead bodies found in the fields,” and on the other: “Alms for + the perpetual lamp in the cemetery.” + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean?” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “That is the Church of the Orison of the Confraternity of Death. The + tablets are modern.” + </p> + <p> + They passed by the “Mascherone” again, and went rambling on until they + reached the Synagogue and the Theatre of Marcellus. + </p> + <p> + They went through narrow streets without sidewalks; they passed across + tiny squares; and it seemed like a dead city, or like the outskirts of a + village. In certain streets towered high dark palaces of blackish stone. + These mysterious palaces looked uninhabited; the gratings were eaten with + rust, all sorts of weeds grew on the roofs, and the balconies were covered + with climbing plants. At corners, set into the wall, one saw niches with + glass fronts. A painted madonna, black now, with silver jewels and a + crown, could be guessed at inside, and in front a little lantern swung on + a cord. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a cart would come down one of these narrow streets without + sidewalks, driving very quickly and scattering the women and children + seated by the gutter. + </p> + <p> + In all these poor quarters there were lanes crossed by ropes loaded with + torn washing; there were wretched black shops from which an odour of + grease exhaled; there were narrow streets with mounds of garbage in the + middle. In the very palaces, now shorn of their grandeur, appeared the + same decoration of rags waving in the breeze. In the Theatre of Marcellus + one’s gaze got lost in the depths of black caves, where smiths stood out + against flames. + </p> + <p> + This mixture of sumptuousness and squalor, of beauty and ugliness, was + reflected in the people; young and most beautiful women were side by side + with fat, filthy old ones covered with rags, their eyes gloomy, and of a + type that recalled old African Jewesses. + </p> + <p> + <i>WHAT CAN BE READ ON WALLS</i> + </p> + <p> + Cæsar and Kennedy went on toward the Temple of Vesta and followed the + river bank until the Tiber Embankment ended. + </p> + <p> + Here the banks were green and the river clearer and more poetic. To the + left rose the Aventine with its villas; in the harbour two or three tugs + were tied up; and here and there along the pier stood a crane. Evening was + falling and the sky was filling with pink clouds. + </p> + <p> + They sat down awhile on the side of the road, and Cæsar entertained + himself deciphering the inscriptions written in charcoal on a mud-wall. + </p> + <p> + “Do you go in for modern epigraphy?” asked Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It is one of the things I take pleasure in reading, in the towns I + go to; the advertisements in the newspapers and the writings on the wall.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a good kind of curiosity.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I believe one learns more about the real life in a town from such + inscriptions than from the guide- and text-books.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s possible. And what conclusions have you drawn from your + observations?” + </p> + <p> + “They are not of much value. I haven’t constructed a science of + wall-inscriptions, as that fake Lambroso would have done.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will construct it surely, when you have lighted on the underlying + system.” + </p> + <p> + “You think my epigraphical science is on the same level as my financial + science. What a mistake!” + </p> + <p> + “All right. But tell me what you have discovered about different towns.” + </p> + <p> + “London, for instance, I have found, is childish in its inscriptions and + somewhat clownish. When some sentimental foolishness doesn’t occur to a + Londoner of the people, some brutality or rough joke occurs to him.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind,” said Kennedy, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Paris has a vulgar, cruel taste; in the Frenchman of the people you find + the tiger alternating with the monkey. There the dominant note on the + walls is the patriotic note, insults to politicians, calling them + assassins and thieves, and also sentiments of revenge expressed by an <i>‘A + mort Dupin!’’</i> or <i>‘A mort Duval!’’</i> Moreover, there is a great + enthusiasm for the guillotine.” + </p> + <p> + “And Madrid?” + </p> + <p> + “Madrid is at heart a rude, moral town with little imagination, and the + epigraphs on the walls and benches are primitive.” + </p> + <p> + “And in Rome what do you find?” + </p> + <p> + “Here one finds a mixture of pornography, romanticism, and politics. A heart + pierced by an arrow and poetic phrases, alternate with some enormous piece + of filthiness and with hurrahs for Anarchy or for the <i>‘Papa-re.‘</i>” + </p> + <p> + “Well done!” said Kennedy; “I can see that the branch of epigraphy you + practise amounts to something. It should be systematized and given a + name.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you think we should name it? Wallography?” + </p> + <p> + “Very good.” + </p> + <p> + “And one of these fine days we can systematize it. Now we might go and get + dinner.” + </p> + <p> + They took a tram which was coming back from St. Paul’s beyond the Walls, + and returned to the heart of the city. + </p> + <p> + <i>THE MONK WITH THE RED NOSE</i> + </p> + <p> + The next day Cæsar was finishing dressing when the servant told him that a + gentleman was waiting for him. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a monk.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar went to the salon and there found a tall monk with an evil face, a + red nose, and a worn habit. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar recalled having seen him, but didn’t know where. + </p> + <p> + “What can I do for you?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “I come from His Eminence, Cardinal Fort. I must speak with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s go into the dining-room. We shall be alone there.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be better to talk in your room.” + </p> + <p> + “No, there is no one here. Besides, I have to eat breakfast. Will you join + me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thanks,” said the monk. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar remembered having seen that face in the Altemps palace. He was + doubtless one of the domestic monks who had been with the Abbé Preciozi. + </p> + <p> + The waiter came bringing Cæsar’s breakfast. “Will you tell me what it is?” + said Cæsar to the ecclesiastic, while he filled his cup. + </p> + <p> + The monk waited until the waiter was gone, and then said in a hard voice: + </p> + <p> + “His Eminence the Cardinal sent me to bid you not to present yourself + anywhere again, giving his name.” + </p> + <p> + “What? What does this mean?” asked Cæsar, calmly. + </p> + <p> + “It means that His Eminence has found out about your intrigues and + machinations.” + </p> + <p> + “Intrigues? What intrigues were those?” + </p> + <p> + “You know perfectly well. And His Eminence forbids you to continue in that + direction.” + </p> + <p> + “His Eminence forbids me to pay calls? And for what reason?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you have used his name to introduce yourself into certain + places.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not true.” + </p> + <p> + “You have told people you went to that you are Cardinal Fort’s nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “And I am not?” asked Cæsar, after taking a swallow of coffee. + </p> + <p> + “You are trying to make use of the relationship, we don’t know with what + end in view.” + </p> + <p> + “I am trying to make use of my relationship to Cardinal Fort? Why + shouldn’t I?” + </p> + <p> + “You admit it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I admit it. People are such imbeciles that they think it is an + honour to have a Cardinal in the family; I take advantage of this stupid + idea, although I do not share it, because for me a Cardinal is merely an + object of curiosity, an object for an archeological museum....” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar paused, because the monk’s countenance was growing dark. In the + twilight of his pallid face, his nose looked like a comet portending some + public calamity. + </p> + <p> + “Poor wretch!” murmured the monk. “You do not know what you are saying. + You are blaspheming. You are offending God.” “Do you really believe that + God has any relation to my uncle?” asked Cæsar, paying more attention to + his toast than to his visitor. + </p> + <p> + And then he added: + </p> + <p> + “The truth is that it would be extravagant behaviour on the part of God.” + </p> + <p> + The monk looked at Cæsar with terrible eyes. Those grey eyes of his, under + their long, black, thick brows, shot lightning. + </p> + <p> + “Poor wretch!” repeated the monk. “You ought to have more respect for + things above you.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar arose. + </p> + <p> + “You are bothering me and preventing me from drinking my coffee,” he said, + with exquisite politeness, and touched the bell. + </p> + <p> + “Be careful!” exclaimed the monk, seizing Cæsar’s arm with violence. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you touch me again,” said Cæsar, pulling away violently, his face + pale and his eyes flashing. “If you do, I have a revolver here with five + chambers, and I shall take pleasure in emptying them one by one, taking + that lighthouse you carry about for a nose, as my target.” + </p> + <p> + “Fire it if you dare.” + </p> + <p> + Fortunately the waiter had come in on hearing the bell. + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish anything, sir?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, please escort this clerical gentleman to the door, and tell him on + the way not to come back here.” + </p> + <p> + Days later Cæsar found out that there had been a great disturbance at the + Altemps palace in consequence of the calls he had made. Preciozi had been + punished and sent away from Rome, and the various Spanish monasteries and + colleges warned not to receive Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. GIOVANNI BATTISTA, PAGAN + </h2> + <p> + “My dear Cæsar,” said Kennedy, “I believe it will be very difficult for + you to find what you want by looking for it. You ought to leave it a + little to chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Abandon myself to events as they arrive? All right, it seems a good + idea.” + </p> + <p> + “Then if you find something practicable, utilize it.” + </p> + <p> + Kennedy took his friend to a statue-shop where he used to pass some of his + hours. The shop was in a lane near the Forum, and its stock was in + antiques, majolicas, and plaster casts of pagan gods. + </p> + <p> + The shop was dark and rather gloomy, with a small court at the back + covered with vines. The proprietor was an old man, with a moustache, an + imperial, and a shock of white hair. His name was Giovanni Battista Lanza. + He professed revolutionary ideas and had great enthusiasm about Mazzini. + He expressed himself in an ironical and malicious manner. + </p> + <p> + Signora Vittoria, his wife, was a grumbling old woman, rather devoted to + wine. She spoke like a Roman of the lowest class, was olive-coloured and + wrinkled, and of her former beauty there remained only her very black eyes + and hair that was still black. + </p> + <p> + The daughter, Simonetta, a girl who resembled her father, blond, with the + build of a goddess, was the one that waited on customers and kept the + accounts. + </p> + <p> + Simonetta, being the manager, divided up the profits; the elder son was + head of the workshop and he made the most money; then came two workmen + from outside; and then the father who still got his day’s wages, out of + consideration for his age; and finally the younger son, twelve or fourteen + years old, who was an apprentice. + </p> + <p> + Simonetta gave her mother what was indispensable for household expenses + and managed the rest herself. + </p> + <p> + Kennedy retailed this information the first day they went to Giovanni + Battista Lanza’s house. Cæsar could see Simonetta keeping the books, while + the small brother, in a white blouse that came to his heels, was chasing a + dog, holding a pipe in his hand by the thick part, as if it were a pistol, + the dog barking and hanging on to the blouse, the small boy shrieking and + laughing, when Signora Vittoria came bawling out. + </p> + <p> + Kennedy presented Simonetta to his friend Cæsar, and she smiled and gave + her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Is Signore Giovanni Battista here?” Kennedy asked Signora Vittoria. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is in the court.” she answered in her gloomy way. + </p> + <p> + “Is something wrong with your mamma?” said Kennedy to Simonetta. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + They went into the court and Giovanni Battista arose, very dignified, and + bowed to Cæsar. The elder son and the two workmen in white blouses and + paper caps were busy with water and wires, cleaning a plaster mould they + had just emptied. + </p> + <p> + The mould was a big has-relief of the Way of the Cross. Giovanni Battista + permitted himself various jocose remarks about the Way of the Cross, which + his son and the other two workmen heard with great indifference; but while + he was still emptying his store of anti-Christian irony, the voice of + Signora Vittoria was heard, crying domineeringly: + </p> + <p> + “Giovanni Battista!” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s enough, that’s enough! I can hear you from here.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s my wife,” said Giovanni Battista, “she doesn’t like me to be + lacking in respect for plaster saints.” “You are a pagan!” screamed the + old woman. “You shall see, you shall see what will happen to you.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you expect to have happen to me, darling?” + </p> + <p> + “Leave her alone,” exclaimed the elder son, ill at ease; “you always have + to be making mother fly into a rage.” + </p> + <p> + “No, my boy, no; she is the one who makes me fly into a rage.” + </p> + <p> + “Giovanni Battista is used to living among gods,” said Kennedy, “and he + despises saints.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” replied the cast-maker; “some saints are all right. If all the + churches had figures by Donatello or Robbia, I would go to church oftener; + but to go and look at those statues in the Jesuit churches, those figures + with their arms spread and their eyes rolling.... Oh, no! I cannot look at + such things.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar could see that Giovanni Battista expressed himself very well; but + that he was not precisely a star when it came to working. After the mould + for the bas-relief was cleaned and fixed, the cast-maker invited Cæsar and + Kennedy to have a glass of wine in a wine-shop near by. + </p> + <p> + “How’s this, are you leaving already, father?” said Simonetta, as he went + through the shop to get to the street. + </p> + <p> + “I’m coming back, I’m coming back right away.” + </p> + <p> + <i>SUPERSTITIONS</i> + </p> + <p> + The three of them went to a rather dirty tavern in the same lane, and + settled themselves by the window. This post was a good point of + observation for that narrow street, so crowded and so picturesque. + </p> + <p> + Workmen went by, and itinerant vendors, women with kerchiefs, half + head-dress and half muffler, and with black eyes and expressive faces. + Opposite was a booth of coloured candies, dried figs strung on a reed, and + various kinds of sweets. + </p> + <p> + A wine-cart passed, and Kennedy made Cæsar observe how decorative it was + with its big arm-seat in the middle and its hood above, like a prompter’s + box. + </p> + <p> + Giovanni Battista ordered a flask of wine for the three of them. While he + chatted and drank, friends of his came to greet them. They were men with + beards, long hair, and soft hats, of the Garbaldi and Verdi type so + abundant in Italy. + </p> + <p> + Among them were two serious old men; one was a model, a native of + Frascati, with the face of a venerable apostle; the other, for contrast, + looked like a buffoon and was the possessor of a grotesque nose, long, + thin at the end and adorned with a red wart. + </p> + <p> + “My wife has a deadly hatred for all of them,” said Giovanni Battista, + laughing. + </p> + <p> + “And why so?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Because we talk politics and sometimes they ask me for a few pennies....” + </p> + <p> + “Your wife must have a lively temper,...” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, an unhappy disposition; good, awfully good; but very superstitious. + Christianity has produced nothing but superstitions.” + </p> + <p> + “Giovanni Battista is a pagan, as his wife well says,” asserted Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “What superstitions has your wife?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “All of them. Romans are very superstitious and my wife is a Roman. If you + see a hunchback, it is good luck; if you see three, then your luck is + magnificent and you have to swallow your saliva three times; on the other + hand, if you see a humpbacked woman it is a bad omen and you must spit on + the ground to keep away the <i>jettatura</i>. Three priests together is a + very good sign. We ought all to get along very well in Rome, because we + see three and up to thirty priests together.” + </p> + <p> + “A spider is also very significant,” said Kennedy; “in the morning it is + of bad augury, and in the evening good.” + </p> + <p> + “And at noon?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “At noon,” answered Lanza, laughing, “it means nothing to speak of. But if + you wish to make sure whether it is a good auspice or a bad, you kill the + spider and count its legs. If they are an even number, it is a good omen; + if uneven, bad.” + </p> + <p> + “But I believe spiders always have an even number of legs,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” responded the old man; “but my wife swears they do not; that + she has seen many with seven and nine legs. It is religious + unreasonableness.” + </p> + <p> + “Are there many people like that, so credulous?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, lots,” replied Lanza; “in the shops you will find amulets, horns, + hands made of coral or horseshoes, all to keep away bad luck. My wife and + the neighbour women play the lottery, by combining the numbers of their + birthdays, and the ages of their fathers, their mothers, and their + children. When some relative dies, they make a magic combination of the + dates of birth and death, the day and the month, and buy a lottery ticket. + They never win; and instead of realizing that their systems are of no + avail, they say that they omitted to count in the number of letters in the + name or something of that sort. It is comical, so much religion and so + much superstition.” + </p> + <p> + “But you confuse religion and superstition, my friend,” said Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all the same,” answered the old man, smiling his suavely ironical + smile. “There is nothing except Nature.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not believe in miracles, Giovanni Battista?” asked the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I believe in the earth’s miracles, making trees and flowers grow, + and the miracle of children’s being born from their mothers. The other + miracles I do not believe in. What for? They are so insignificant beside + the works of Nature!” + </p> + <p> + “He is a pagan,” Kennedy again stated. + </p> + <p> + <i>YOUNG PAINTERS</i> + </p> + <p> + They were chatting, when three young lads came into the tavern, all three + having the air of artists, black clothes, soft hats, flowing cravats, long + hair, and pipes. “Two of them are fellow-countrymen of yours,” Kennedy + told Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “They are Spanish painters,” the old man added. “The other is a sculptor + who has been in the Argentine, and he talks Spanish too.” + </p> + <p> + The three entered and sat down at the same table and were introduced to + Cæsar. Everybody chattered. Buonacossi, the Italian, was a real type. Of + very low stature, he had a giant’s torso and strong little legs. His head + was like a woe-begone eagle, his nose hooked, thin, and reddish, eyes + round, and hair black. + </p> + <p> + Buonacossi proved to be gay, exuberant, changeable, and full of vehemence. + </p> + <p> + He explained his artistic ideas with picturesque warmth, mingling them + with blasphemies and curses. Things struck him as the best or the worst in + the world. For him there doubtless were no middle terms. + </p> + <p> + One of the two Spaniards was serious, grave, jaundiced, sour-visaged, and + named Cortés; the other, large, ordinary, fleshy, and coarse, seemed + rather a bully. + </p> + <p> + Giovanni Battista was not able to be long outside the workshop, no doubt + because his conscience troubled him, and though with difficulty, he got up + and left. Kennedy, Cæsar, and the two Spaniards went toward the Piazza, + del Campidoglio, and Buonacossi marched off in the opposite direction. + </p> + <p> + On reaching the Via Nazionale, Kennedy took his leave and Cæsar remained + with the two Spaniards. The red, fleshy one, who had the air of a bully, + started in to make fun of the Italians, and to mimic their bows and + salutes; then he said that he had an engagement with a woman and made + haste to take his leave. + </p> + <p> + When he had gone, the grave Spaniard with the sour face, said to Cæsar: + </p> + <p> + “That chap is like the dandies here; that’s why he imitates them so well.” + </p> + <p> + Afterwards Cortés talked about his studies in painting; he didn’t get on + well, he had no money, and anyway Rome didn’t please him at all. + Everything seemed wrong to him, absurd, ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, after he had said good-bye to him, murmured: “The truth is that we + Spaniards are impossible people.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. THE PORTRAIT OF A POPE + </h2> + <p> + Two or three days later Cæsar met the Spaniard Cortés in the Piazza + Colonna. They bowed. The thin, sour-looking painter was walking with a + beardless young German, red and snub-nosed. This young man was a painter + too, Cortés said; he wore a green hat with a cock’s feather, a blue cape, + thick eyeglasses, big boots, and had a certain air of being a blond + Chinaman. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to come to the Doria gallery with us?” asked Cortés. + </p> + <p> + “What is there to see there?” + </p> + <p> + “A stupendous portrait by Velázquez.” + </p> + <p> + “I warn you that I know nothing about pictures.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody does,” Cortés declared roundly. “Everybody says what he thinks.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the gallery near here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, just a step.” + </p> + <p> + In company with Cortés and the German with the green hat with the cock’s + feather, Cæsar went to the Piazza del Collegio Romano, where the Doria + palace is. They saw a lot of pictures which didn’t seem any better to + Cæsar than those in the antique shops and the pawnbrokers’, but which drew + learned commentaries from the German. Then Cortés took them to a cabinet + hung in green and lighted by a skylight. There was nothing to be seen in + the cabinet except the portrait of the Pope. In order that people might + look at it comfortably, a sofa had been installed facing it. + </p> + <p> + “Is this the Velázquez portrait?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “This is it.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar looked at it carefully. “That man had eaten and drunk well before + his portrait was painted,” said Cæsar; “his face is congested.” + </p> + <p> + “It is extraordinary!” exclaimed Cortés. “It is something to see, the way + this is done. What boldness! Everything is red, the cape, the cap, the + curtains in the background.... What a man!” + </p> + <p> + The German aired his opinions in his own language, and took out a notebook + and pencil and wrote some notes. + </p> + <p> + “What sort of man was this?” asked Cæsar, whom the technical side of + painting did not preoccupy, as it did Cortés. + </p> + <p> + “They say he was a dull man, who lived under a woman’s domination.” + </p> + <p> + “The great thing is,” murmured Cæsar, “how the painter has left him here + alive. It seems as if we had come in here to salute him, and he was + waiting for us to speak. Those clear eyes are questioning us. It is + curious.” + </p> + <p> + “Not curious,” exclaimed Cortés, “but admirable.” + </p> + <p> + “For me it is more curious than admirable. There is something brutal in + this Pope; through his grey beard, which is so thin, you can see his + projecting chin. The good gentleman was of a marked prognathism, a type of + degeneration, indifference, intellectual torpor, and nevertheless, he + reached the top. Perhaps in the Church it’s the same as in water, only + corks float.” + </p> + <p> + <i>LEGEND AND HISTORY</i> + </p> + <p> + Cæsar went out of the cabinet, leaving the German and Cortés seated on the + sofa, absorbed in the picture; he looked at various paintings in the + gallery, went back, and sat down, beside the artists. + </p> + <p> + “This portrait,” he said presently, “is like history by the side of + legend. All the other paintings in the gallery are legend, ‘folk-lore,’ as + I believe one calls it. This one is history.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what it is. It is truth,” agreed Cortés. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but there are people who do not like the truth, my friend. I tell + you: this is a man of flesh, somewhat enigmatic, like nature herself, and + with arteries in which blood flows; this is a man who breathes and + digests, and not merely a pleasant abstraction; you, who understand such + things, will tell me that the drawing is perfect, and the colour such as + it was in reality; but how about the person who doesn’t ask for reality?” + </p> + <p> + “Stendhal, the writer, was affected that way by this picture,” said + Cortés; “he was shocked at its being hung among masterpieces.” + </p> + <p> + “He found it bad, no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “Very bad?” + </p> + <p> + “Was this Stendhal English?” + </p> + <p> + “No, French.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, then, you needn’t be surprised. A Frenchman has no obligation to + understand anything that’s not French.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless he was an intelligent man.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he perhaps have a good deal of veneration?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he boasted of not having any.” + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless he did have without suspecting it. With a man who had no + veneration, what difference would it make whether there was one bad thing + among a lot of good ones?” + </p> + <p> + The German with the green hat, who understood something of the + conversation, was indignant at Cæsar’s irreverent ideas. He asked him if + he understood Latin, and Cæsar told him no, and then, in a strange + gibberish, half Latin and half Italian, he let loose a series of facts, + dates, and numbers. Then he asserted that all artistic things of great + merit were German: Greece. Rome, Gothic architecture, the Italian + Renaissance, Leonardo da Vinci, Velázquez, all German. + </p> + <p> + The snub-nosed young person, with his cape and his green hat with its + cock-feather, did not let a mouse escape from his German mouse-trap. + </p> + <p> + The data of the befeathered German were too much for Cæsar, and he took + his leave of the painters. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII. EVIL DAYS + </h2> + <p> + Accompanied by Kennedy, Cæsar called repeatedly on the most auspicious + members of the French clerical element living in Rome, and found persons + more cultivated than among the rough Spanish monks; but, as was natural, + nobody gave him any useful information offering the possibility of his + putting his financial talents to the proof. + </p> + <p> + “Something must turn up,” he used to say to himself, “and at the least + opening we will dive into the work.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar kept gathering notes about people who had connections in Spain with + the Black party in Rome; he called several times on Father Herreros, + despite his uncle’s prohibition, and succeeded in getting the monk to + write to the Marquesa de Montsagro, asking if there were no means of + making Cæsar Moneada, Cardinal Fort’s nephew, Conservative Deputy for her + district. + </p> + <p> + The Marquesa wrote back that it was impossible; the Conservative Deputy + for the district was very popular and a man with large properties there. + </p> + <p> + When Holy Week was over, Laura and the Countess Brenda and her daughter + decided to spend a while at Florence, and invited Cæsar to accompany them; + but he was quite out of harmony with the Brenda lady, and said that he had + to stay on in Rome. + </p> + <p> + A few days later Mme. Dawson and her daughters left, and the San Martinos + and the Marchesa Sciacca; and an avalanche of English people and Germans, + armed with their red Baedekers, took the hotel by storm. Susanna Marchmont + had gone to spend some days at Corfu. + </p> + <p> + In less than a week Cæsar remained alone, knowing nobody in the hotel, and + despite his believing that he was going to be perfectly indifferent about + this, he felt deserted and sad. The influence of the springtime also + affected him. The deep blue sky, cloudless, dense, dark, made him + languish. Instead of entertaining himself with something or other, he did + scarcely anything all day long but walk. + </p> + <p> + <i>TWO ABSURD MEN</i> + </p> + <p> + “I have continually near me in the hotel,” wrote Cæsar to Alzugaray, “two + absurd fellows: one is one of those stout red Germans with a square head; + the other a fine slim Norwegian. The German, who is a captain in some + service or other, is a restless man, always busy about what the devil I + don’t know. He is constantly carrying about trunks and boxes, with the aid + of a sorrowful valet, dressed in black, who appears to detest his + position. The captain must devote the morning to doing gymnastics, for I + hear him from my room, which is next to his, jumping and dropping weights + on the floor, each of which must weigh half a ton, to judge by the noise + they make. + </p> + <p> + “He does all this to vocal commands, and when some feat doesn’t go right + he reprimands himself. + </p> + <p> + “This German isn’t still a moment; he opens the salon door, crosses the + room, stands at the window, takes up a paper, puts it down. He is a type + that makes me nervous. + </p> + <p> + “The Norwegian at first appeared to be a reasonable man, somewhat sullen. + He looked frowningly at me, and I watched him equally frowningly, and took + him for a thinker, an Ibsenite whose imagination was lost among the ice of + his own country. Now and then I would see him walking up and down the + corridor, rubbing his hands together so continuously and so frantically + that they made a noise like bones. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly, this gentleman is transformed as if by magic; he begins to joke + with the servants, he seizes a chair and dances with it, and the other day + I saw him alone in the salon marching around with a paper hat on his head, + like children playing soldiers, and blowing on a cornet, also made of + paper.” I stared at him in amazement, he smiled like a child, and asked if + he was disturbing me. + </p> + <p> + “‘No, no, not in the least,’ I told him. + </p> + <p> + “I have asked in the hotel if this man is crazy, and they have told me + that he is not, but is a professor, a man of science, who is known to have + these strange fits of gaiety. + </p> + <p> + “Another of the Norwegian’s doings has been to compose a serenade, with a + vulgar melody that would disgust you, and which he has dedicated ‘<i>A la + bella Italia</i>.’ He wrote the Italian words himself, but as he knows no + music, he had a pianist come here and write out his serenade. What he + especially wants is that it should be full of sentiment; and so the + pianist arranged it with directions and many pauses, which satisfied the + Norwegian. Almost every night the serenade ‘<i>A la bella Italia</i>’ is + sung. Somebody who wants to amuse himself goes to the piano, the Norwegian + strikes a languid attitude and chants his serenade. Sometimes he goes in + front of the piano, sometimes behind, but invariably he hears the storm of + applause when it ends, and he bows with great gusto. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know whether it’s the other people who are laughing at him, or he + who is laughing at the others. + </p> + <p> + “The other day he said to me in his macaronic Italian: + </p> + <p> + “‘Mr. Spaniard, I have good eyesight, good hearing, a good sense of smell, + and... lots of sentiment.’ + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t exactly understand what he meant me to think, and I didn’t pay + any attention to him. + </p> + <p> + “It seems that the Norwegian is going away soon, and as the day of his + departure approaches, he grows funereal.” + </p> + <p> + <i>THE SADNESS OF LIFE</i> + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know why I don’t go away,” Cæsar wrote to his friend another + time. “When I go out in the evening and see the ochre-coloured houses on + both sides and the blue sky above, a horrible sadness takes me. These + spring days oppress me, make me want to weep; it seems to me it would be + better to be dead, leaving no tomb or name or other ridiculous and + disagreeable thing, but disappearing into the air or the sea. It doesn’t + seem natural; but I have never been so happy as one time when I was in + Paris sick, alone and with a fever. I was in an hotel room and my window + looked into the garden of a fine house, where I could see the tops of the + trees; and I transformed them into a virgin forest, wherein marvellous + adventures happened to me. + </p> + <p> + “Since then I have often thought that things are probably neither good nor + bad, neither sad nor happy, in themselves; he who has sound, normal + nerves, and a brain equally sound, reflects the things around him like a + good mirror, and feels with comfort the impression of his conformity to + nature; nowadays we who have nerves all upset and brains probably upset + too, form deceptive reflections. And so, that time in Paris, sick and shut + in, I was happy; and here, sound and strong, when toward nightfall, I look + at the splendid skies, the palaces, the yellow walls that take an + extraordinary tone, I feel that I am one of the most miserable men on the + planet....” + </p> + <p> + <i>ONE SUNDAY AFTERNOON</i> + </p> + <p> + His lack of tranquillity led Cæsar to make absurd resolutions which he + didn’t carry out. + </p> + <p> + One Sunday in the beginning of April, he went out into the street, + disposed to take a walk outside of Rome, following the road anywhere it + led. A hard, fine rain was falling, the sky was grey, the air mild, the + streets were full of puddles, the shops closed; a few flower merchants + were offering branches of almond in blossom. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was very depressed. He went into a church to get out of the rain. + The church was full; there were many people in the centre of it; he didn’t + know what they were doing. Doubtless they were gathered there for some + reason, although Cæsar didn’t understand what. Cæsar sat down on a bench, + worn out; he would have liked to listen to organ music, to a boy choir. No + ideas occurred to him but sentimental ones. Some time passed, and a priest + began to preach. Cæsar got up and went into the street. + </p> + <p> + “I must get rid of these miserable impressions, get back to noble ideas. I + must fight this sentimental leprosy.” + </p> + <p> + He started to walk with long strides through the sad, empty streets. + </p> + <p> + He went toward the river and met Kennedy, who was coming back, he told + him, from the studio of a sculptor friend of his. + </p> + <p> + “You look like desolation. What has happened to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, but I am in a perfectly hellish humour.” + </p> + <p> + “I am melancholy too. It must be the weather. Let’s take a walk.” + </p> + <p> + They went along the bank of the Tiber. Full of clay, more turbid than + ever, and very high between the white embankments hemming it in, the river + looked like a big sewer. + </p> + <p> + “This is not the ‘coeruleus Tibris’ that Virgil speaks of in the Aeneld, + which presented itself to Aeneas in the form of an ancient man with his + head crowned with roses,” said Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “No. This is a horrible river,” Cæsar opined. + </p> + <p> + They followed the shore, passed the Castel Sant’ Angelo and the bridge + with the statues. + </p> + <p> + From the embankment, to the right, they could now see narrow lanes, sunk + almost below the level of the river. On the other bank a new, white + edifice towered in the rain. + </p> + <p> + They went as far as the Piazza d’Armi, and then came back at nightfall to + Rome. The rain was gradually ceasing and the sky looked less threatening. + A file of greenish gaslights followed the river-wall and then crossed over + the bridge. + </p> + <p> + They walked to the Piazza del Popólo and through the Via Babuino to the + Piazza di Spagna. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to go to a Benedictine abbey tomorrow?” asked Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “All right.” + </p> + <p> + “And if you are still melancholy, we will leave you there.” + </p> + <p> + <i>THE ABBEY</i> + </p> + <p> + The next day, after lunch, Kennedy and Cæsar went to visit the abbey of + Sant’ Anselmo on the Aventine. The abbot, Hildebrand, was a friend of + Kennedy’s, and like him an Englishman. + </p> + <p> + They took a carriage and Kennedy told it to stop at the church of Santa + Sabina. + </p> + <p> + “It is still too early to go to the abbey. Let us look at this church, + which is the best preserved of all the old Roman ones.” + </p> + <p> + They entered the church; but it was so cold there that Cæsar went out + again directly and waited in the porch. There was a man there selling + rosaries and photographs who spoke scarcely any Italian or French, but did + speak Spanish. Probably he was a Jew. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar asked him where they manufactured those religious toys, and the + pedlar told him in Westphalia. + </p> + <p> + Kennedy went to look at a picture by Sassoferrato, which is in one of the + chapels, and meanwhile the rosary-seller showed the church door to Cæsar + and explained the different bas-reliefs, cut in cypress wood by Greek + artists of the V Century, and representing scenes from the Old and New + Testaments. + </p> + <p> + Kennedy came back, they got into the carriage again, and they drove to the + Benedictine abbey. + </p> + <p> + “Is the abbot Hildebrandus here?” asked Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + Out came the abbot, a man of about fifty, with a gold cross on his breast. + They exchanged a few friendly words, and the superior showed them the + convent. + </p> + <p> + The refectory was clean and very spacious; the long table of shining wood; + the floor made of mosaic. The crypt held a statue, which Cæsar assumed + must be of Sant’ Anselmo. The church was severe, without ornaments, + without pictures; it had a primitive air, with its columns of fine granite + that looked like marble. A monk was playing the harmonium, and in the + opaque veiled light, the thin music gave a strange impression of something + quite outside this life. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards they crossed a large court with palm-trees. They went up to the + second story, and down a corridor with cells, each of which had on the + lintel the name of the patron saint of the respective monk. Each door had + a card with the name of the occupant of the room. + </p> + <p> + It looked more like a bath-house than a monastery. The cells were + comfortable inside, without any air of sadness; each held a bed, a divan, + and a small bookcase. + </p> + <p> + By a window at the end of the passage, one could see, far away, the Alban + Hills, looking like a blue mountain-range, half hidden in white haze, and + nearby one could see the trees in the Protestant cemetery and the pyramid + of Caïus Cestius close to them. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar felt a sort of deep repugnance for the people shut up here, remote + from life and protected from it by a lot of things. + </p> + <p> + “The man who is playing the harmonium in this church with its opaque + light, is a coward,” he said to himself. “One must live and struggle in + the open air, among men, in the midst of their passions and hatreds, even + though one’s miserable nerves quiver and tremble.” + </p> + <p> + After showing them the monastery, the abbot Hildebrand took them to his + study, where he worked at revising ancient translations of the Bible. He + had photographic copies of all the Latin texts and he was collating them + with the original. + </p> + <p> + They talked of the progress of the Church, and the abbot commented with + some contempt on the worldly success of the Jesuit churches, with their + saints who serve as well to get husbands and rich wives as to bring + winning numbers in the lottery. + </p> + <p> + Before going out, they went to a window, at the other end of the corridor + from where they had looked out before. Below them they could see the Tiber + as far as the Ripa harbour; opposite, the heights of the Janiculum, and + further, Saint Peter’s. + </p> + <p> + When they went out, Kennedy said to Cæsar: + </p> + <p> + “What devilish effect has the abbey produced in you, that you are so much + gayer than when we went in?” + </p> + <p> + “It has confirmed me in my idea, which I had lost for a few days.” + </p> + <p> + “What idea is that?” + </p> + <p> + “That we must not defend ourselves in this life, but attack, always + attack.” + </p> + <p> + “And now you are contented at having found it again?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + <i>PIRANESI’S GARDEN</i> + </p> + <p> + “I am glad, because you have such a pitiable air when you are sad. Would + you like to go to the Priory of Malta, which is only a step from here?” + </p> + <p> + “Good.” + </p> + <p> + They went down in the carriage to the Priory of Malta. They knocked at the + gate and a woman came out who knew Kennedy, and who told them to wait a + moment and she would open the church. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” said Kennedy, “you have all that remains of the famous Order of + Saint John of Jerusalem. That anti-historic man Bonaparte rooted it out of + Malta. The Order attempted to establish itself in Catania, and afterwards + at Ferrara, and finally took refuge here. Now it has no property left, and + all that remains are its memories and its archives.” + </p> + <p> + “That is how our descendants will see our Holy Mother the Church. In + Chicago or Boston some traveller will find an abandoned chapel, and will + ask: ‘What is this? ‘And they will tell him: ‘This is what remains of the + Catholic Church.’” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t talk like an Homais,” said Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know who Homais is,” retorted Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “An atheistical druggist in Flaubert’s novel, <i>Madame Bovary</i>. + Haven’t you read it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I have a vague idea that I have read it. A very heavy thing; yes, + ... I think I have read it.” + </p> + <p> + The woman opened the door and they went into the church. It was small, + overcharged with ornaments. They saw the tomb of Bishop Spinelli and + Giotto’s Virgin, and then went into a hall gay with red flags with a white + cross, on whose walls they could read the names of the Grand Masters of + the Order of Malta. The majority of the names were French and Polish. Two + or three were Spanish, and among them that of Cæsar Borgia. + </p> + <p> + “Your countryman and namesake was also a Grand Master of Malta,” said + Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “So it seems,” replied Cæsar with indifference. “I see that you speak with + contempt of that extraordinary man. Is he not congenial to you?” + </p> + <p> + “The fact is I don’t know his history.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, really.” + </p> + <p> + “How strange! We must go tomorrow to the Borgia Apartment in the Vatican.” + </p> + <p> + “Good.” + </p> + <p> + They saw the model of an ancient galley which was in the same hall, and + went out through the church into the garden planned by Piranesi. The woman + showed them a very old palm, with a hole in it made by a hand-grenade in + the year ‘49. It had remained that way more than half a century, and it + was only a few days since the trunk of the palm had broken. + </p> + <p> + From the garden they went, by a path between trees, to the bastion of Paul + III, a little terrace, from which they could see the Tiber at their feet, + and opposite the panorama of Rome and its environs, in the light of a + beautiful spring sunshine.... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII. CÆSAR BORGIA’S MOTTO, “AUT CÆSAR, AUT NIHIL” + </h2> + <h3> + <i>THE BORGIAS</i> + </h3> + <p> + The next day was one of the days for visiting the Borgia Apartment. Cæsar + and Kennedy met in the Piazza di San Pietro, went into the Vatican museum, + and walked by a series of stairs and passageways to the Gallery of + Inscriptions. + </p> + <p> + Then they went down to a hall, at whose door there were guards dressed in + slashed clothes, which were parti-coloured, red, yellow, and black. Some + of them carried lances and others swords. + </p> + <p> + “Why are the guards here dressed differently?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Because this belongs to the Dominions of the Pope.” + </p> + <p> + “And what kind of guards are these?” + </p> + <p> + “These are pontifical Swiss guards.” + </p> + <p> + “They look comic-opera enough,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “My dear man, don’t say that. This costume was designed by no one less + than Michelangelo.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. At that time they probably looked very well, but now they have + a theatrical effect.” + </p> + <p> + “It is because you have no veneration. If you were reverential, they would + look wonderful to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, let us wait and see whether reverence will not spring up in + me. Now, you go on and explain what there is here.” + </p> + <p> + “This first room, the Hall of Audience, or of the Popes, does not contain + anything notable, as you see,” said Kennedy; “the five we are coming to + later, have been restored, but are still the same as at the time when your + countryman Alexander VI was Pope. All five were decorated by Pinturicchio + and his pupils, and all with reference to the Borgias. The Borgias have + their history, not well known in all its details, and their legend, which + is more extensive and more picturesque. Really, it is not easy to + distinguish one from the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s have the history and the legend mixed.” + </p> + <p> + “I will give you a résumé in a few words. Alfonso Borja was a Valencian, + born at Játiba; he was secretary to the King or Aragon; then Bishop of + Valencia, later Cardinal, and lastly Pope, by the name of Calixtus III. + While Calixtus lives, the Spaniards are all-powerful in Rome. Calixtus + protects his nephews, sons of his sister Isabel and a Valencian named + Lanzol or Lenzol. These nephews drop their original name and take their + mother’s, Italianizing its spelling to Borgia. Their uncle, the Pope, + appoints the elder, Don Pedro Luis, Captain of the Church; the second, Don + Rodríguez....” + </p> + <p> + “Don Rodríguez?” said Cæsar. “In Spanish you can’t say Don Rodríguez.” + </p> + <p> + “Gregorovius calls him that.” + </p> + <p> + “Then Gregorovius, no doubt, knew no Spanish.” + </p> + <p> + “In Latin he is called Rodericus.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it should be Don Rodrigo.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Rodrigo. Well, this Don Rodrigo, also from Játiba, his uncle + makes a Cardinal, and at the death of Pedro Luis, he calls him to Rome. + Rodrigo has had several children before becoming a Cardinal, and + apparently he feels no great enthusiasm for ecclesiastical dignities; but + when he finds himself in Rome, the ambition to be Pope assails him, and at + the death of Innocent VIII, he buys the tiara? Is it legend or history + that he bought the tiara? That is not clear. Now we will go in and see the + portrait of Rodrigo Borgia, who in the series of Popes, bears the name + Alexander VI.” + </p> + <p> + <i>ALEXANDER VI AND HIS BROTHER</i> + </p> + <p> + Kennedy and Cæsar entered the first room, the Hall of the Mysteries, and + the Englishman stopped in front of a picture of the Resurrection. “Here + you have Alexander VI, on his knees, adoring Christ who is leaving the + tomb. He is the type of a Southerner; he has a hooked nose, a long head, + tonsured, a narrow forehead, thick lips, a heavy beard, a strong neck, and + small chubby hands. He wears a papal robe of gold, covered with jewels; + the tiara is on the ground beside him. Of the soldiers, it is supposed + that the one asleep by the sepulchre and the one who is waking and rising + up, pulling himself to his knees by the aid of his lance, are two of the + Pope’s sons, Cæsar and the Duke of Gandia. I rather believe that the + little soldier with the lance is a woman, perhaps Lucrezia. How does your + countryman strike you, my friend?” + </p> + <p> + “He is of Mediterranean race, a dolichocephalic Iberian; he has the small + melon-shaped head, the sensual features. He is leptorrhine. He comes of an + intriguing, commercial, lying, and charlatan race.” + </p> + <p> + “To which you have the honour to belong,” said Kennedy, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “They say this man was a great enthusiast about his countrymen and the + customs of his country. These tiles, which are remains of the original + floor, and the plates you see here, are Valencian. A Spanish painter told + me that several letters of Alexander VI’s are preserved in the archives of + the cathedral at Valencia, one among them asking to have tiles sent.” + </p> + <p> + Kennedy walked forward a little and planted himself before an Assumption + of the Virgin, and said: + </p> + <p> + “It is supposed that this gloomy man dressed in red, with a little fringe + of hair on his brow, is a brother of the Pope’s.” + </p> + <p> + “A bad type to encounter in the Tribunal of the Inquisition,” said Cæsar; + “imagine what this red-robed fellow would have done with that Jew at the + Excelsior, Señor Pereira, if he had happened to have him in his power.” + </p> + <p> + “In the soffits,” Kennedy went on, “as you see, are repetitions of the + symbols of Iris, Osiris, and the bull Apis, doubtless because of their + resemblance to the Christian symbols, and also because the bull Apis + recalls the bull in the Borgia arms.” “Their arms were a bull?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it was a ‘scutcheon invented by some king-at-arms or other, a symbol + of ferocity and strength.” + </p> + <p> + “Were they of a noble family, these Borgias?” + </p> + <p> + “No, probably not. Though I believe some people suppose that they were + descended from the Aragonese family of Atares. Now that we know Alexander + VI, let us take a glance at his court. It has often been said, and is no + doubt taken from Vasari’s book, that in the Borgia Apartment Pinturicchio + painted Pope Alexander VI adoring the Virgin represented under the + likeness of his beloved, Julia Farnese. The critic must have been + confused, because none of these madonnas recalls the face of <i>Giulia la + bella</i>, whom people used to call the Bride of Christ. The picture that + Vasari refers to must be one in the museum at Valencia.” + </p> + <p> + <i>THE HALL OF THE SAINTS</i> + </p> + <p> + They went into another room, the Hall of the Saints, and Kennedy took + Cæsar in front of the fresco called, <i>The Dispute of Saint Catherine + with the Emperor Maximian</i>. + </p> + <p> + “The place of this scene,” said Kennedy, “Pinturicchio has set in front of + the Arch of Constantine. The artist has added the inscription <i>Pacis + Cultori</i>, and below he has embossed the Borgia bull. The subject is the + discussion between the Emperor and the saint. Maximian, seated on a throne + under a canopy, is listening to Saint Catherine, who counts on her fingers + the arguments she has been using in the dispute. Who was it served as + model for the figure of Maximian? At first they imagined it was Cæsar + Borgia; but as you may observe, the appearance of the Emperor is that of a + man of twenty odd years, and when Pinturicchio painted this, Cæsar was + about seventeen. So it is more logical to suppose that the model must have + been the Pope’s eldest son, the Duke of Gandia. A chronicler of the period + says that this Duke of Gandia was good among the great, as his brother + Cæsar was great among the wicked. Also, legend or history, whichever it + be, says that Cæsar procured his elder brother’s murder in a corner of the + Ghetto, and that the Pope on learning of it, became as if crazy, and went + into the full Consistory with his garments torn and ashes on his head.” + </p> + <p> + “What love for traditional symbolism!” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Everybody is not so anti-traditional as you. I will go on with my + explanation,” added Kennedy. “Saint Catherine has Lucrezia’s features. She + is small and slender. She wears her hair down, a little cap with a pearl + cross which hangs on her forehead, and a collar also of pearls. She has + large eyes, a candid expression. Cagnolo da Parma will say of her, when + she goes to Ferrara, that she has ‘<i>il naso profilato e bello, li + capelli aurei, gli occhi bianchi, la bocea alquanto grande con li denti + candiaissimi.</i>’ Literature will portray this sweet-faced little blond + girl as a Messalina, a poisoner, and incestuous with her brothers and her + father. At this time Lucrezia had just married Giovanni Sforza, although + as a matter of fact the two never lived together. Giovanni Sforza is the + little young man who appears there in the back of the picture riding a + spirited horse. Sforza wears his hair like a woman, and has a + broad-brimmed hat and a red mantle. A little later Cæsar Borgia will try + several times to assassinate him.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt he found him in the way. The man who is in the foreground, next + to the Emperor’s throne, is Andrew Paleologos,” Kennedy continued. “He is + the one wearing a pale purple cloak and looking so melancholy. It used to + be supposed that he was Giovanni Borgia. Now they say that it is + Paleologos, whom the death of the Emperor Constantine XIII, about this + time, had caused to lose the crown of Byzance. + </p> + <p> + “Here at the right, riding a Barbary horse, is Prince Djem, second son of + Muhammad II, whom Alexander VI kept as a hostage. Djem, as you see, has an + expressive face, a prominent nose, lively eyes, a long pointed beard, a + shock of hair, and a big turban. He rides Moorish fashion, with his + stirrups very short, and wears a curved cutlass in his belt. He is a great + friend of Cæsar Borgia’s, which does not prevent Cæsar and his father, + according to public rumour, from poisoning him at a farewell banquet in + Capua. And here is Giovanni Sforza again, on foot. Are those two children + the younger sons of Alexander VI? Or are they Lucrezia and Cæsar again? I + don’t know. Behind Paleologos are the Pope’s domestic retainers, and among + them Pinturicchio himself.” + </p> + <p> + <i>THE LIFE OF CÆSAR BORGIA</i> + </p> + <p> + After explaining the picture in detail, Kennedy went into the next room, + followed by Cæsar. This is called the Hall of the Liberal Arts, and is + adorned with a large marble mantel. + </p> + <p> + “Is there no portrait here of Cæsar Borgia?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “No. Here I have a photograph of the one by Giorgione,” said Kennedy, + showing a postal card. + </p> + <p> + “What sort of man was he? What did he do?” + </p> + <p> + Kennedy seated himself on a bench near the window and Cæsar sat beside + him. + </p> + <p> + “Cæsar Borgia,” said Kennedy, “came to Rome from the university of Pisa, + approximately at the time when they made his father Pope. He must then + have been about twenty, and was strong and active. He broke in horses, was + an expert fencer and shot, and killed bulls in the ring.” + </p> + <p> + “That too?” + </p> + <p> + “He was a good Spaniard. In a court that cannot be seen from here, on + account of those thick panes, but on which these windows look, Cæsar + Borgia fought bulls, and the Pope stood here to watch his son’s dexterity + with the sword.” + </p> + <p> + “What ruffians!” exclaimed Cæsar, smiling. + </p> + <p> + The Englishman continued with the history of Borgia, his intrigues with + the King of France, the death of Lucrezia’s husband, the assassinations + attributed to the Pope’s son, the mysterious execution of Ramiro del Orco, + which made Machiavelli say that Cæsar Borgia was the prince who best knew + how to make and unmake men, according to their merits; finally the <i>coup + d’état</i> at Sinigaglia with the <i>condottieri</i>. + </p> + <p> + By this time Cæsar Moncada was very anxious to know more. These Borgias + interested him. His sympathies went out toward those great bandits who + dominated Rome and tried to get all Italy into their power, leaf by leaf, + like an artichoke. Their purpose struck him as a good one, almost a moral + one. The device, <i>Aut Cæsar, aut nihil</i>, was worthy of a man of + energy and courage. + </p> + <p> + Kennedy seeing Cæsar’s interest, then recounted the scene at Cardinal + Adrian Corneto’s country-house; Alexander’s intention to give a supper + there to various Cardinals and poison them all with a wine that had been + put into three bottles, so as to inherit from them, the superstitiousness + of the Pope, who sent Cardinal Caraffa to the Vatican for a golden box in + which he kept his consecrated Host, from which he was never separated; and + the mistake of the chamberlain, who served the poisoned wine to Cæsar and + his father. + </p> + <p> + “Here, to this very room, they brought the dying Pope,” said Kennedy, and + pointed to a door, on whose marble lintel one may read: <i>Alexander + Borgia Valentín P. P.</i> “They say he passed eight days here between life + and death, before he did die, and that when his corpse was exposed, it + decomposed horribly.” + </p> + <p> + Then Kennedy related the story of Cæsar’s trying to cure himself by the + strange method of being put inside of a mule just dead; his flight from + Rome, sick on a litter, with his soldiers, as far as the Romagna; his + imprisonment in the Castel Sant’ Angelo; his capture by the Great Captain; + his efforts to escape from his prison at Medina del Campo; and his obscure + death on the Mendavia road, near Viana in Navarre, through one of the + Count of Lerin’s soldiers, named Garcés, a native of Agreda, who gave + Borgia such a blow with a lance that it broke his armour and passed all + the way through his body. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was stirred up. Hearing the story of the people who had lived there, + in those very rooms, gave him an impression of complete reality. + </p> + <p> + When they went out again by the Gallery of Inscriptions, they looked from + a window. + </p> + <p> + “It must have been here that he fought bulls?” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + The court was large, with a fountain of four streams in the middle. “Life + then must have been more intense than now,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Who knows? Perhaps it was the same as now,” replied Kennedy. + </p> + <p> + “And what does history, exact history, say of these Borgias?” + </p> + <p> + “Of Pope Alexander VI it says that he had his children in wedlock; that he + was a good administrator; that the people were content with him; that the + influence of Spain was justifiable, because he was Spanish; that the story + of the poisonings does not seem certain; and that he himself could hardly + have died of poison, but rather of a malarial fever.” + </p> + <p> + “And about Lucrezia?” + </p> + <p> + “Of Lucrezia it says that she was a woman like those of her period; that + there are no proofs for belief in her incests and her poisonings; and that + her first marriages, which were never really consummated, were nothing + more than political moves of her father and her brother’s.” + </p> + <p> + “And about Cæsar?” + </p> + <p> + “Cæsar is the one member of the family who appears really terrible. His + device, <i>Aut Cæsar, aut nihil</i>, was not a chance phrase, but the + irrevocable decision to be a king or to be nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “That, at least, is not a mystification,” murmured Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + <i>IN FRONT OF THE CASTEL SANT’ ANGELO</i> + </p> + <p> + They left the Vatican, crossed the Piazza di San Pietro, and drew near the + river. + </p> + <p> + As they passed in front of the Castel Sant’ Angelo, Kennedy said: + </p> + <p> + “Alexander VI shut himself up in this castle to weep for the Duke of + Gandia. From one of those windows he watched the funeral procession of his + son, whom they were carrying to Santa Maria del Popolo. According to old + Italian custom they bore the corpse in an open casket. The funeral was at + night, and two hundred men with torches lighted the way. When the cortège + set foot on this bridge, the Pope’s retinue saw him draw back with horror, + and cover his face, crying out sharply.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX. CÆSAR’S REFLECTIONS + </h2> + <p> + “I have had the curiosity,” Cæsar wrote to his friend Alzugaray, “to + inform myself about the life of the Borgias, and going on from one to + another, I reached Saint Francis Borgia; and from Saint Francis I have + gone backwards to Saint Ignatius Loyola. + </p> + <p> + “The parallelism between the doings of Cæsar Borgia and of Iñigo de Loyola + surprised me; what one tried to do in the sphere of action, the other did + in the sphere of thought. These twin Spanish figures, both odious to the + masses, have given its direction to the Church; one, Loyola, through the + impulse to spiritual power; the other, Cæsar Borgia, through the impulse + to temporal power. + </p> + <p> + “One may say that Spain gave Papal Rome its thought and activity, as it + gave the Rome of the Cæsars also its thought and activity, through Seneca + and Trajan. + </p> + <p> + “Really it is curious to see the traces that remain in Rome of that + Basque, Iñigo. That half farceur, half ruffian, who had the + characteristics of a modern anarchist, was a genius for organization. + Bakunin and Mazzini are poor devils beside him. The Church still lives + through Loyola. He was her last reformer. + </p> + <p> + “The Society of Jesus is the knot of the whole Catholic scaffolding; the + Jesuits know that on the day when this knot, which their Society forms, is + cut or pulled open, the whole frame-work of out-of-date ideas and lies, + which defends the Vatican, will come down with a terrible noise. + </p> + <p> + “Rome lives on Jesuitism. Indubitably, without Loyola, Catholicism would + have rotted away much sooner. It is obvious that this would have been + better, but we are not talking about that. A good general is not one who + defends just causes, but one who wins battles. + </p> + <p> + “The Borgias, Luther, and Saint Ignatius, between them, killed the + predominance of the Latin race. + </p> + <p> + “The Borgias threw discredit on the free Renaissance life, before the face + of all nations; Luther removed the centre of spiritual life and philosophy + to Germany and England; Saint Ignatius prevented Roman Catholicism from + rotting away; he put iron braces on the body that was doubling over with + weakness, and inside his braces the body has gone on decomposing and has + poisoned the Latin countries. + </p> + <p> + “On hearing this opinion here, they asked me: + </p> + <p> + “‘Then you think Catholicism is dead?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No, no; as to having any civilizing effect, it is dead; but as to having + a sentimental effect, it is very much alive... and it will still + unfortunately keep on being alive. All this business of the Virgin del + Pilar and the Virgin del Carmen, and saints, and processions, and + magnificent churches, is a terrible strength.... If there were an + emancipated bourgeoisie and a sensible working class, Catholicism would + not be a peril; but there are not, and Catholicism will have, not perhaps + an overpowering expansion, but at least moments of new growth. While we + have a lazy rich class and a brutalized poor class, Catholicism will be + strong.’ + </p> + <p> + “Leaving the utilitarian and moral questions aside, and considering merely + the amount of influence and the traces left by this influence, one can see + that Rome is living on Loyola’s work and still dreaming of Borgia’s. Those + pilgrims in the Piazza di San Pietro who enthusiastically yell, <i>Viva il + Papa-re!</i> are acclaiming the memory of Cæsar Borgia. Thus you have the + absurd result, people who speak with horror of an historic figure and + still hold his work in admiration. + </p> + <p> + “This Spanish influence that our country gave to the Church in two ways, + spiritual and material,—to the Church which now is an institution + not merely foreign but contrary to our nature,—Spain ought today to + try to use in her own behalf. Spain’s work ought to be to organize + extra-religious individualism. + </p> + <p> + “We are individualists; therefore what we need is an iron discipline, like + soldiers. + </p> + <p> + “This discipline established, we ought to spread it through the contiguous + countries, especially through Africa. Democracy, the Republic, Socialism, + have not, essentially, any root in our land. Families, cities, classes, + can be united in a pact; isolated men, like us, can be united only by + discipline. + </p> + <p> + “Moreover, as for us, we do not recognize prestige, nor do we cheerfully + accept either kings or presidents or high priests or grand magi. + </p> + <p> + “The only thing that would suit us would be to have a chief... for the + pleasure of eating him alive. + </p> + <p> + “A Loyola of the extra-religious individualism is what Spain needs. Deeds, + always deeds, and a cold philosophy, realistic, based on deeds, and a + morality based on action. Don’t you agree? + </p> + <p> + “I think, and I am becoming more confirmed in my opinion, that the only + people who can give a direction, found a new civilization with its own + proper characteristics, for that old Iberian race, which probably sprang + from the shores of the Mediterranean... is we Spaniards. + </p> + <p> + “‘Why only you Spaniards?’ my friend Kennedy asked me; and I told him: + </p> + <p> + “‘To me it seems indubitable. France is leaning constantly more towards + the North. In Italy the same is true; Milan and Turin, where the Saxon and + the Gaul predominate, are the real capitals of Italy. In Spain, however, + this does not happen. We are separated from the rest of Europe by the + Pyrenees, and joined to Africa by the sea and climate. Our plan ought to + be to construct a great European Empire, to impose our ideas on the + peninsula, and then to spread them everywhere.’” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX. DON CALIXTO AT SAINT PETER’S + </h2> + <h3> + <i>DON CALIXTO UNDERSTANDS</i> + </h3> + <p> + Kennedy was anxious that Cæsar should turn into the good road. The good + road, for him, was art. + </p> + <p> + “At heart,” the Englishman informed him, “I am one of those Brothers of + the Esthetic Doctrine who irritate you, and I must instruct you in the + faith.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not opposed to your trying to instruct me.” + </p> + <p> + The two went several times to see museums, especially the Vatican museum. + </p> + <p> + One day, on leaving the Sistine Chapel, where they had had a long + discussion on the merits of Michelangelo, Cæsar met the painter Cortés, + who came to speak to him. + </p> + <p> + “I am here with a gentleman from my town, who is a Senator,” said Cortés. + “A boresome old boy. Shall I introduce him?” + </p> + <p> + “All right.” + </p> + <p> + “He is an old fool who knows nothing about anything and talks about + everything.” + </p> + <p> + Cortés presented Cæsar to Don Calixto García Guerrero, a man of some + fifty-odd, Senator and boss of the province of Zamora. + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto invited Cæsar and Kennedy to dine with him. The Englishman + expressed regrets, and Cæsar said he would go. They took leave of Cortés + and Don Calixto, and went out to the Piazza di San Pietro. + </p> + <p> + “I imagine you are going to be bored tomorrow dining with that old + countryman of yours,” said Kennedy. “Oh, surely. He has all the signs of a + soporific person; but who knows? a type like that sometimes has + influence.” + </p> + <p> + “So you are dining with him with a more or less practical object?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course.” + </p> + <p> + The next evening, Cæsar, in his evening clothes, betook himself to an + hotel in the Piazza di Spagna, where Don Calixto García Guerrero was + staying. Don Calixto received him very cordially. He doubtless knew that + Cæsar was nephew to Cardinal Fort and brother to a marchioness, and + doubtless that flattered Don Calixto. + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto honoured Cæsar with an excellent dinner, and during dessert + became candid with him. He had come to Rome to put through his obtaining a + Papal title. He was a friend of the Spanish Ambassador to the Vatican, and + it wouldn’t have cost him any more to be made a prince, a duke, or a + marquis; but he preferred the title of count. He had a magnificent estate + called La Sauceda, and he wanted to be the Count de la Sauceda. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar comprehended that this gentleman might be fortune coming in the + guise of chance, and he set himself to making good with him, to telling + him stories of aristocratic life in Rome, some of which he had read in + books, and some of which he had heard somewhere or other. + </p> + <p> + “What vices must exist here!” Don Calixto kept exclaiming. “That is why + they say: <i>‘Roma veduta, fede perduta.‘</i>” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar noted that Don Calixto had a great enthusiasm for the aristocracy; + and so he took pains, every time he talked with him, to mix the names of a + few princes and marquises into the conversation; he also gave him to + understand that he lived among them, and went so far as to hint the + possibility of being of service to him in Rome, but in a manner ambiguous + enough to permit of withdrawing the offer in case of necessity. + Fortunately for Cæsar, Don Calixto had his affairs all completely + arranged; the one thing he desired was that Cæsar, whom he supposed to be + an expert on archeological questions, should go about with him the three + or four days he expected to remain in Rome. He had spent a whole week + making calls, and as yet had seen nothing. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had no other recourse but to buy a Baedeker and read it and learn a + lot of things quite devoid of interest for him. + </p> + <p> + The next day Don Calixto was waiting for him in a carriage at the door, + and they went to see the sights. + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto was a man that made phrases and ornamented them with many + adverbs ending in -ly. + </p> + <p> + “Verily,” he said, after his first archeological walk in Rome, “verily, it + seems strange that after more than two thousand years have passed, all + these monuments should still remain.” + </p> + <p> + “That is most true,” replied Cæsar, looking at him with his impassive air. + </p> + <p> + “I understand why Rome is the real school for learning, integrally, both + ancient and modern history.” + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly,” agreed Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto, who knew neither Italian nor French, found a source of help, + for the days he was to spend in Rome, in Cæsar’s friendship, and made him + accompany him everywhere. Cæsar was able to collect and preserve, though + not precisely cut in brass, the phrases Don Calixto uttered in front of + the principal monuments of Rome. + </p> + <p> + In front of the Colosseum, his first exclamation was: “What a lot of + stone!” Then recalling his role of orator, he exclaimed: “The spirits are + certainly daunted and the mind darkened on thinking how men could have + sunk to such abysses of evil.” + </p> + <p> + “Don Calixto is referring to those holes,” thought Cæsar, looking at the + cellars of the Circo Romano. + </p> + <p> + From the Colosseum the carriage went to the Capitol, and then Don Calixto + asserted with energy: + </p> + <p> + “One cannot deny that, say what you will, Rome is one of the places most + fertile in memories.” + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto was an easy traveller for his <i>cicerone</i>. He far + preferred talking to being given explanations; Cæsar had said to him: “Don + Calixto, you understand everything, by intuition.” And being thus + reassured, Don Calixto kept uttering terrible absurdities. + </p> + <p> + One day Don Calixto went to see the Pope, in evening clothes and with his + abdomen covered with decorations, and he asked Cæsar if a photographer + couldn’t take his picture in the act of leaving the carriage, so that the + photograph would have Saint Peter’s as a background. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think so. Why not? The only thing will be that the photographer + will charge you more.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mind that. Could you arrange it for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, man.” + </p> + <p> + What Don Calixto desired was done. + </p> + <p> + “How did the Pope impress you?” Cæsar asked him as he came out + </p> + <p> + “Very favourably, very favourably indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “He has a stupid face, hasn’t he?” + </p> + <p> + “No, man, not at all. He is like a nice country priest. His predecessor + was no doubt more of a diplomat, more intelligent.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the other seemed more of a rogue,” said Cæsar, laughing at the + precautions Don Calixto took in giving his opinion. + </p> + <p> + The proofs of the photographs came in the evening, and Don Calixto was + enchanted with them. In one of them you could see the Swiss guard at the + door, with his lance. It was splendid. Don Calixto would not permit Cæsar + to go to his hotel, but invited him for dinner; and after dinner told him + he was so indebted that he would be delighted to do anything Cæsar asked + him. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you make me a Deputy?” said Cæsar, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to be one?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, man.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “I should think so.” + </p> + <p> + “But you would have to live in Madrid.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you leave here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Then, not another word, we will say no more about it. When the time + comes, you will write to me and say: ‘Don Calixto, the moment has arrived + for you to remember your promise: I want to be a Deputy.’” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. I will do it, and you shall present me as candidate for + Castro... Castro... what?” + </p> + <p> + “Castro Duro.” + </p> + <p> + “You will see me there then.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. And now, another favour. There is a Canon from Zamora here, a + friend of mine, who came on the pilgrimage and who desires nothing so much + as to see Saint Peter’s and the Catacombs rather thoroughly. I could + explain everything to him, but I am not sure about the dates. Will you + come with us?” + </p> + <p> + “With great pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we shall expect you here at ten.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be fine.” + </p> + <p> + Sure enough, at ten Cæsar was there. Don Calixto and his friend the Canon + Don Justo, who was a large gentleman, tall and fleshy and with a long + nose, were waiting. The three got into the carriage. + </p> + <p> + “I hope this priest isn’t going to be one of those library rats who know + everything on earth,” thought Cæsar, but when he heard him make a couple + of mistakes in grammar, he became tranquil. + </p> + <p> + <i>THEODORA AND MAROZIA</i> + </p> + <p> + As they passed the Castel Sant’ Angelo, Cæsar began to tell the story of + Theodora and her daughter Marozia, the two women who lived there and who, + for forty odd years, changed the Popes as one changes cooks. + </p> + <p> + “You know the history of those women?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t,” said the Canon. + </p> + <p> + “Nor I,” added Don Calixto. + </p> + <p> + “Then I will tell it to you before we get to Saint Peter’s. Theodora, an + influential lady, fell in love with a young priest of Ravenna, and had him + elected Pope, by the name of John X. Her daughter Marozia, a young girl + and a virgin, gave herself to Pope Sergius III, a capricious, fantastic + man, who had once had the witty idea of digging up Pope Formosus and + subjecting him, putrefied as he was, to the judgment of a Synod. By this + eccentric man Marozia had a son, and afterwards was married three times + more. She exercised an omnipotent sway over the Holy See. John X, her + mother’s lover, she deposed and sent to die in prison. With his successor, + Leo VI, whom she herself had appointed Pope, she did the same. The + following Pope, Stephen VII, died of illness, twenty months after his + reign began, and then Marozia gave the Papal crown to the son she had had + by Sergius III, who took the name of John XI. This Pope and his brother + Alberic, began to feel their mother’s influence rather heavy, and during a + popular revolt they decided to get Marozia into their power, and they + seized her and buried her alive in the <i>in pace</i> of a convent.” + </p> + <p> + “But is all this authentic?” asked the Canon, completely stupefied. + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely authentic.” + </p> + <p> + The Canon made a gesture of resignation and looked at Don Calixto in + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + While Cæsar was telling the story, the carriage had passed down a narrow + and rather deserted street, called Borgo Vecchio, in whose windows clothes + were hanging out to dry, and then they came out in the Piazza di San + Pietro. They drove around one edge of this enormous square. The sky was + blue. A fountain was throwing water, which changed to a cloud in the air + and produced a brilliant rainbow. + </p> + <p> + “One certainly wonders,” said Cæsar, “if Saint Peter’s is not one of the + buildings in the worst taste that exist in the world.” + </p> + <p> + They got out in front of the steps. + </p> + <p> + “Your friend is probably well up on archeological matters?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Who? Don Justo? Not in the least.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar began to laugh, went up the steps ahead of the others, lifted the + leather curtain, and they all three went into Saint Peter’s. <i>THERE IS + NO PERFORMANCE</i> + </p> + <p> + Cæsar began his explanations with the plan of the church. The Canon passed + his hand over all the stones and kept saying: + </p> + <p> + “This is marble too,” and adding, “How expensive!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you like this, Don Calixto?” Cæsar asked. + </p> + <p> + “What a question, man!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is obviously very rich and very sumptuous, but it must give a + fanatic coming here from far away the same feeling a person gets when he + has a cold and asks for a hot drink and is given a glass of iced orgeat.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t let Don Justo hear you,” said Don Calixto, as if they ought to keep + the secret about the orgeat between the two of them. + </p> + <p> + They came to the statue of Saint Peter, and Cæsar told them it is the + custom for strangers to kiss its foot. The Canon piously did so, but Don + Calixto, who was somewhat uneasy, rubbed the statue’s worn foot + surreptitiously with his handkerchief and then kissed it. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar abstained from kissing it, because he said the kiss was efficacious + principally for strangers. + </p> + <p> + Then they went along, looking at the tombs of the Popes. Cæsar was several + times mistaken in his explanations, but his friends did not notice his + mistakes. + </p> + <p> + The thing that surprised the Canon most was the tomb of Alexander VII, + because there is a skeleton on it. Don Calixto stopped with most curiosity + before the tomb of Paul III, on which one sees two nude women. Cæsar told + them that popular legend claims that one of these statues, the one + representing Justice, is Julia Farnese, sister of Pope Paul III, and + mistress of Pope Alexander VI; but such a supposition seems unlikely. + </p> + <p> + “Entirely,” insisted the Canon gravely; “those are things invented by the + Free Thinkers.” + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto allowed himself to say that most of the Popes looked like + drum-majors. + </p> + <p> + Don Justo continued appraising everything he saw like a contractor. Cæsar + devoted himself to retailing his observations to Don Calixto, while the + Canon walked alone. + </p> + <p> + “I will inform you,” he told him, “that on Saturday one may go up in the + dome, but only decently dressed people. So a placard on that door informs + us. If by any chance an apostle should re-arise and have a fancy to do a + little gymnastics and see Rome from a height, as he would probably be + dirty and badly dressed, he would get left, they wouldn’t let him go up. + And then he could say: ‘Invent a religion like the Christian religion, so + that after a while they won’t let you go up in the dome.’” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certainly, certainly,” replied Don Calixto. “They are absurd. But do + not let the Canon hear you. To be sure, all this does not look very + religious, but it is magnificent.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is a beautiful stage-setting, but there is no performance,” said + Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that?” asked Don Calixto. + </p> + <p> + “That this is an empty place. It would have been well to build a temple as + large and light as this in honour of Science, which is humanity’s great + creation. These statues, instead of being stupid or warlike Popes, ought + to be the inventor of vaccination or of chloroform. Then one could + understand the chilliness and the fairly menacing air that everything in + the place wears. Let people have confidence in the truth and in work, that + is good; but that a religion founded on mysteries, on obscurities, should + build a bright, challenging, flippant temple, is ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said Don Calixto, always preoccupied in keeping the Canon from + hearing, “you talk like a modern man. I myself, down in my heart, you + know.... I believe you follow me, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, man.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think that all this has no transcendency.... That is to say....” + </p> + <p> + “No, it has none. You may well say so, Don Calixto.” + </p> + <p> + “But it did have it. That cannot be doubted, can it? And a great deal. + This is undeniable.” + </p> + <p> + <i>IT IS A MAGNIFICENT BUSINESS CONCERN</i> + </p> + <p> + “It was really a magnificent business concern,” said Cæsar. “Think of + monopolizing heaven and hell, selling the shares here on earth and paying + the dividends in heaven! There’s no guarantee trust company or pawn-broker + that pays an interest like that. And at its height, how many branches it + developed! Here, in this square, I have a friend, a Jewish dealer in + rosaries, who tells me his trade is flourishing. In three weeks he has + sold a hundred and fifty kilos of rosaries blessed by the Pope, two + hundred kilos of medals, and about half a square kilometre of scapulars.” + </p> + <p> + “What an exaggeration!” said Don Calixto. + </p> + <p> + “No, it is the truth. He is glad that these things, which he considers + accursed, sell, because after all, he is a liberal and a Jew; the only + thing he does, if he can, to ease his conscience, is to get ten per cent. + profit on everything, and he says to himself: ‘Let the Catholics worry!’” + </p> + <p> + “What tales! If the Canon should hear you!” + </p> + <p> + “No, but all this is true. As my friend says: Business is business. And he + has made me take notice that when the Garibaldini come here, they spend + the price of a few bottles of Chianti, and then they sleep in any + dog-kennel, and spend nothing more. On the contrary, the rich Catholics + buy and buy... and off go his kilos of rosaries and of medals, his tons of + veils for visiting the Pope, his reams of indulgences for eating meat, and + for eating fish and meat, and even for blowing your nose on pages of the + Bible if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not be so disrespectful.” + </p> + <p> + When the Canon had made sure of all the square metres of marble there are + in Saint Peter’s they went out into the square again. Cæsar indicated the + heap of irregular edifices that form the Vatican. + </p> + <p> + “That ought to be the Pope’s room,” said Cæsar, pointing to a window, at + random. “You must have been there, Don Calixto?” “I don’t know. Really,” + he said, “I haven’t much idea where I was.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor has he any idea how he went,” thought Cæsar, and added: “That is the + Library; over there is the Secretary of State’s apartment; there is where + the Holy Office meets”; and he said whatsoever occurred to him, perfectly + tranquilly. + </p> + <p> + They took their carriage, and as they passed a shop for objects of + religion, Don Calixto said to the Canon: + </p> + <p> + “What do you say to this, Don Justo? According to Don Cæsar, the + proprietors of the shops where they sell medals, are Jews.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! that cannot be so,” replied the Canon roundly. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” + </p> + <p> + “Why should it shock you?” exclaimed Cæsar. “If they sold Jesus Christ + alive, why are they not to sell him dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am glad to know it,” Don Justo burst forth, “because I was going + to buy some medals for presents, and now I won’t buy them.” + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto smiled, and Cæsar understood that the good Canon was taking + advantage of the information to save a penny. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXI. DON CALIXTO IN THE CATACOMBS + </h2> + <p> + Don Calixto and the Canon were very anxious to visit the Catacombs. Cæsar + knew that the visit is not entirely agreeable, and attempted to dissuade + them from their intention. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know whether you gentlemen know that one has to spend the entire + day there.” + </p> + <p> + “Without lunch?” asked the Canon. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; that is impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “One has to sacrifice oneself for the sake of Christianity,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t much desire to sacrifice yourself,” retorted Don Calixto. + </p> + <p> + “Because I believe it is damp and unwholesome down there, and a Christian + bronchitis would not be wholly pleasant, despite its religious origin. And + besides, as you already know, one must go without food.” + </p> + <p> + “We might eat something there,” said Don Justo. + </p> + <p> + “Eat there!” exclaimed Cæsar. “Eat a slice of ham, in front of the niches + of the Catacombs! It would make me sick.” + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn’t me,” replied the Canon. + </p> + <p> + “In front of the tombs of martyrs and saints!” + </p> + <p> + “Even if they were saints, they ate too,” replied the Canon, with his + excellent good sense. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had to agree that even if they were saints, they ate. + </p> + <p> + There was a French family at the hotel who were also thinking of going to + see the Catacombs, and Don Calixto and Don Justo decided to go the same + day with them. The French family consisted of a Breton gentleman, tall and + whiskered, who had been at sea; his wife, who looked like a village woman; + and the daughter, a slender, pale, sad young lady. They had with them, + half governess, half maid, a lean peasant-woman with a suspicious air. + </p> + <p> + The young lady confessed to Cæsar that she had been dreaming of the + Catacombs for a long while. She knew the description Chateaubriand gives + of them in <i>Les Martyres</i> by heart. + </p> + <p> + The next day the French family in one landau, and Don Calixto with the + Canon and Cæsar in another, went to see the Catacombs. + </p> + <p> + The French family had brought a fat, smiling abbé as cicerone. + </p> + <p> + Five persons couldn’t get inside the landau, and the Breton gentleman had + to sit by the driver. Don Calixto offered him a seat in his carriage, but + the Breton, who must have been obstinate as a mule, said no, that from the + driver’s seat he enjoyed more of the panorama. + </p> + <p> + They halted a moment, on the abbé’s advice, at the Baths of Caracalla, and + went through them. The cicerone explained where the different + bathing-rooms had been and the size of the pools. Those cyclopean + buildings, those high, high arches, those enormous walls, left Cæsar + overcome. + </p> + <p> + One couldn’t understand a thing like this except in a town which had a + mania for the gigantic, the titanic. + </p> + <p> + They left the baths and started along. They followed the Via di Porta San + Sebastiano, between two walls. They left behind the imposing ruins of the + Baths of Caracalla and various establishments for archeological + reconstructions, and the carriage stopped at the gate of the Catacombs. + </p> + <p> + They went in, guided by the abbé, and arrived at a sort of office. + </p> + <p> + They each paid a lira for a taper which a friar was handing out, and they + joined a group of other people, without quite knowing what they expected + next. In the group there were two German Dominicans, a tall one whose + fiery red beard hung to his waist, and a slim one, with a nose like a + knife. + </p> + <p> + <i>IRREVERENT CICERONE</i> + </p> + <p> + It was not long before another numerous group of tourists came out of a + hole in the floor, and among them was a Trappist brother who came over to + where Don Calixto and Cæsar were. The Trappist carried a stick, and a + taper twisted in the end of the stick. He asked if everybody understood + French; any one that didn’t could wait for another group. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand it,” said the Canon. + </p> + <p> + “I will translate what he says, to you,” replied Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” answered the Canon. + </p> + <p> + “<i>En avant, messieurs</i>,” said the Trappist, lighting his taper, and + requesting them all to do the same. + </p> + <p> + They went around giving one another a light, and with their little candles + aflame they began to descend into the Catacombs. + </p> + <p> + They went in by a gallery as narrow as one in a mine, which once in a + while broadened into bigger spaces. + </p> + <p> + In certain spots there were openings in the roof. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had never thought about what the celebrated Catacombs would be like, + but he had not expected them so poor and so sinister. + </p> + <p> + The sensation they caused was disagreeable, a sensation of choking, of + suffocation, without one’s really getting any impression of grandeur. The + place seemed like an abandoned ant-hill. The wide spaces that opened out + at the sides of the passage were chapels, the monk said. + </p> + <p> + The Trappist cicerone contributed to removing any serious feelings with + his chatter and his jokes. Being familiar with these tombs, he had lost + respect for them, as sacristans lose it for the saints they brush the dust + off of with a feather-duster. Moreover, he judged everything by an + esthetic criterion, completely devoid of respect; for him there were only + sepulchres with artistic character, or without it; of a good or a poor + period; and the latter sort he struck contemptuously with his stick. + </p> + <p> + The marine Breton was irritated, and asked Cæsar several times: + </p> + <p> + “Why is that permitted?” “I don’t know,” answered Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + The monk made extraordinary remarks. + </p> + <p> + Explaining the life of the Christians in the earliest eras of + Christianity, he said: + </p> + <p> + “In this century the habits of the pontiffs were so lax that the Pope had + to go out accompanied by two persons to insure his modest behaviour.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh!” said a young Frenchman, in a tone of vexation. + </p> + <p> + <i>“Ah! C’est L’histoire,”</i> replied the monk. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar translated what the Trappist had said, to Don Calixto and the Canon, + and they were both really perplexed. + </p> + <p> + They followed the long, narrow galleries. It was a strange effect, seeing + the procession of tourists with their burning candles. One didn’t notice + the modern clothes and the ladies’ hats, and from a distance the + procession lighted by the little flames of the candles, had a mysterious + look. + </p> + <p> + At the tail of the crowd walked two men who spoke English. One was a + “gentleman” little versed in archeological questions; the other a tall + person with the face of a scholar. Cæsar drew near them to listen. The one + was explaining to his companion everything they saw as they went along, + the signification of the emblems cut in the tablets, and the funerary + customs of the Christians. + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t they put crosses?” asked the unlearned gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the other. “It is said that for the Romans the <i>crux</i> + represented the gallows! Thus the earliest representation of the Crucified + is a drawing in the Kirchnerian museum, which shows a Christian kneeling + before a man with a donkey’s head, who is nailed to a cross. In Greek + letters one reads: ‘Alexamenes adores his God.’ They say this drawing + comes from the Palace of the Cæsars, and it is considered to be a + caricature of Christ, drawn by a Roman soldier on a wall.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t they put up images of Christ, either?” + </p> + <p> + “No. You do not consider that they were at the height of the discussion as + to whether Christ was ugly or beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + The tall gentleman got involved in a long dissertation as to what motives + they had had, some to insist that Christ’s person was of great beauty, + others to affirm that it was of terrible ugliness. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar would have liked to go on listening to what this gentleman said, but + Don Justo joined him. The Trappist was in front of two mummies, explaining + something, and he wanted Cæsar to translate what he was saying. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar did this bit of interpreting for him. The candles were beginning to + burn out and it was necessary to leave. + </p> + <p> + The cicerone took them rapidly along a gallery at whose end there was a + stairway, and they issued into the sunlight. The monk extinguished the + taper on his stick, and began crying: + </p> + <p> + “Now, gentlemen, do you want any scapulars, medals, chocolate?” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar looked over his companions in the expedition. The Canon was + indifferent. The old maritime Breton showed signs of profound indignation, + and his daughter, the little French mystic, had tears in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “That poor little French girl, who arrived here so full of enthusiasm, has + come out of these Catacombs like a rat out of a sewer,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “And why so?” asked Don Calixto. + </p> + <p> + “Because of the things the monk said. He was really scandalous.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said the Canon gravely. “I never would have believed it.” + </p> + <p> + <i>“Roma veduta, fede perduta,”</i> said Don Calixto. “And as for you, + Cæsar, hasn’t this visit interested you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have been interested in trying to keep from catching cold.” + </p> + <p> + AGRO ROMANO + </p> + <p> + The landau that the Breton family was in took the Appian, Way, and Cæsar + and Don Calixto’s carriage followed behind it. + </p> + <p> + They passed the tomb of Cecilia Metella, and were able to look ahead along + the old road, on whose sides one sees the remains of aqueducts, which at + evening-fall have a grandeur so imposing. Don Calixto and Don Justo were + discussing a question of home politics. + </p> + <p> + On them magnificently indifferent, the broken sepulchres, the abandoned + arches invaded by grass, the vestiges of a gigantic civilization, did not + produce the least impression. + </p> + <p> + The coachman pointed out Frascati on the slope of a mountain, Albano, + Grotta Ferrata, and Tivoli. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar felt the grandeur of the landscape; the enormous sadness of the + remnants of aqueducts, which had the colour of rusty iron, beneath a sky + of pink clouds. + </p> + <p> + At dusk they turned back. Cæsar felt a weight on his spirits. The walls of + the Baths of Caracalla looked threatening to him. Those great towering + thick walls, broken, brick-colour, burned by the sun, gave him an + impression of the strength of the past. There were no trees, no houses + near them; as if those imposing ruins precluded any life round about. Only + one humble almond-tree held out its white flowers. + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto and the Canon continued chatting. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII. SENTIMENTALITY AND ARCHEOLOGY + </h2> + <p> + Don Calixto and the Canon went away to Spain. Cæsar thought he was wasting + time in Rome and that he ought to get out, but he remained. He kept + wondering why Susanna Marchmont had left and never written him. + </p> + <p> + Twice he asked about her at the Hotel Excelsior, and was told that she had + not returned. + </p> + <p> + One evening at the beginning of May, when he had managed to decide to pack + up and go, he received a card from Susanna, telling him of her arrival and + inviting him to have tea at the <i>Ristorante del Castello dei Cesari.</i> + </p> + <p> + Cæsar immediately left the hotel and took a cab, which carried him to the + top of the Aventine Hill. + </p> + <p> + He got out at the entrance to the garden of the <i>Ristorante</i>, went + across it, and out on a large terrace. + </p> + <p> + There were a number of Americans having tea, and in one group of them was + Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “How late you come!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I have just received your card. And what did you do in Corfu? How did + things go down there?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well indeed. It is all wonderful. And I have been in Epirus and + Albania, too.” + </p> + <p> + Susanna related her impressions of those countries, with many details, + which, surely, she had read in Baedeker. + </p> + <p> + She was very smart, and prettier than ever. She said her husband must be + in London; she had had no news from him for more than a month. “And how + did you know I was still here?” Cæsar asked her. + </p> + <p> + “Through Kennedy. He wrote to me. He is a good friend. He talked a lot + about you in his letters.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar thought he noticed that Susanna talked with more enthusiasm than + ordinarily. Perhaps distance had produced a similar effect on her to what + wondering about her had on him. Cæsar looked at her almost passionately. + </p> + <p> + From the terrace one could see the tragic ruins of the Palace of the + Cæsars; broken arcades covered with grass, remains of walls still + standing, the openings of arches and windows, and here and there a pointed + cypress or a stone pine among the great devastated walls. + </p> + <p> + Far away one could see the country, Frascati, and the blue mountains of + the distance. + </p> + <p> + As it was already late, the group of Susanna’s American friends decided to + return by carriage. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to walk,” said Susanna in a low tone. “Would you like to come + with me?” + </p> + <p> + “With great pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + They took leave of the others, went down the garden road, which was + decorated on both sides with ancient statues and tablets, and issued on + the Via di Santa Prisca, a street between two dark walls, with a lamp + every once in a while. + </p> + <p> + “What a sky!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “It is splendid.” + </p> + <p> + It was of a blue with the lustre of mother-of-pearl; in the zenith a stray + star was imperceptibly shining; to the west floated golden and red clouds. + </p> + <p> + They went down the steep street, alongside a garden wall. In some places, + bunches of century plants showed their hard spikes, sharp as daggers, over + the low walls. + </p> + <p> + There was a great silence in this coming of night. Among the foliage of + the trees they heard the piping of sparrows. From far away there came, + from time to time, the puffing of a train. + </p> + <p> + <i>DESOLATION</i> + </p> + <p> + They walked without speaking, mastered by the melancholy of their + surroundings. Now and again, a peasant, tanned by the sun, with his little + sack full of grass, came home from the fields, singing. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar and Susanna passed alongside of the Jewish cemetery, and stopped to + look in through a grill. The wall hid the burning zone of twilight; a + greenish blue reigned in the zenith. + </p> + <p> + They went on again. A bell began to ring. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was depressed. Susanna was silent. + </p> + <p> + They crossed a street of new, dark houses; they passed by a little square + with a melancholy church. The street they took was named for Saint + Theodore. To the left, down the Via del Velabro, they saw an arch with + many niches on the sides of the single opening. + </p> + <p> + A band of black seminarians passed. + </p> + <p> + “Poor creatures!” murmured Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Are you very sympathetic?” said Susanna, mockingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, those chaps rouse my pity.” + </p> + <p> + Now, on the right, the furious ruins of the Palatine were piled up: brick + walls, ruined arches, decrepit partitions, and above, the terrace of a + garden with a balustrade. Over the terrace, against the sky, were the + silhouettes of high cypresses almost black, of ilexes with their dense + foliage, and a large palm with arching leaves. + </p> + <p> + From these so tragic ruins there seemed to exhale a great desolation, + beneath the deep, green sky. + </p> + <p> + Susanna and Cæsar drew near the Forum. + </p> + <p> + In the opaque light of dusk the Forum had the air of a cemetery. Two + lighted windows were shining in the high dark wall of the Tabularium, and + sharp-toned bells were beginning to ring. + </p> + <p> + They went up the stairway that leads to the Capitol, and on a little + terrace they stopped to look at the Forum. + </p> + <p> + “What terrible desolation!” exclaimed Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “All the stones look like tombs,” said Cæsar. “Yes, that is true.” + </p> + <p> + “What are those three high open vaults that give so strange an impression + of immense size?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “That is what remains of Constantine’s basilica.” + </p> + <p> + For a long while they gazed at that abandoned space, with its melancholy + columns and white stones. + </p> + <p> + In a street running into the Forum, there began to shine two rows of + gaslights of a greenish colour. + </p> + <p> + As they passed down the slope leading to the Capitol, in a little street + to the left, the Via Monte Tarpea, they saw a funeral procession ready to + start. At that moment the corpse was being brought into the street. + Several women in black were waiting by the house door with lighted + candles. + </p> + <p> + The priest, in his white surplice and holding up his cross, gave the order + to start, and pushed to the front of the crowd; four men raised the bier + and took it on their shoulders, and the procession of women in black, men, + and children, followed behind. Bells with sharp voices began again to + sound in the air. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, isn’t it sad!” said Susanna, lifting her hand to her breast. + </p> + <p> + They watched how the procession moved away, and then Cæsar murmured, + ill-humouredly: + </p> + <p> + “It is stupid.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” asked Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “I say that it’s stupid to take pleasure in feeling miserable. What we are + doing is absurd and unhealthy.” + </p> + <p> + Susanna burst into laughter, and when she said good-night to Cæsar she + squeezed his hand energetically. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIII. THE ‘SCUTCHEON OF A CHURCH + </h2> + <p> + “Susanna Marchmont,” Cæsar wrote to his friend Alzugaray, “is a beautiful + woman, rich, and apparently intelligent. She has given me to understand + that she feels a certain inclination for me, and if I please her well + enough, she will get a divorce and marry me. + </p> + <p> + “I have discovered the reasons for her inclination, first in a desire to + revenge herself on her husband by marrying the brother of the woman he has + fallen in love with; secondly, in my not having made love to her, like the + majority of the men she has known. + </p> + <p> + “Really, Susanna is a beautiful woman; but whereas other women gain by + being looked at and listened to, with her it is not so. In this beautiful + woman there is something cold, utilitarian, which she does not succeed in + hiding by her artistic effusions. Besides she has a great deal of vanity, + but stupid vanity. She has asked me if I couldn’t manage to acquire a + high-sounding, decorative title in Spain. + </p> + <p> + “If Susanna knew that in my heart I keep up her friendship only through + inertia, because I have no plans, and that her millions and her beauty + leave me cold, she would be dumfounded; I believe that perhaps she would + admire me. + </p> + <p> + “At present we devote ourselves to walking, talking, and telling each + other our impressions. Any one would say that we intentionally play a game + of being contrary; whatsoever she finds wonderful seems worthy of contempt + to me, and vice-versa. It is strange that such absolute disagreement can + exist. This Sunday afternoon we have been taking a long walk, half + sentimental, half archeological. + </p> + <p> + “I went to get her at her hotel; she came down, looking very smart, with + an unmarried friend, also an American and also very chic. + </p> + <p> + “The three of us walked toward the Forum. We passed under the arch of + Constantine. A small beggar-boy preceded us, getting ahead and turning + hand-springs. I gave him some pennies. Susanna laughed. This woman, who + pays bills of thousands of pesetas to her milliner, doesn’t like to give a + copper to a ragamuffin. + </p> + <p> + “We turned off a bit from the avenue and went up on the right, toward the + Palatine. Among the ruins some women were pulling up plants and putting + them into sacks. At the end of the road, on the slope, there were Stations + of the Cross, and some boys from a school were playing, guarded by priests + with white rabbits. + </p> + <p> + “It was impossible to go further, and we went down the hill toward the + Piazza di San Gregorio. On the open place in front of the church that is + in this square, some vagabonds were stretched out on the ground; an old + man with a long hoary beard and a pipe with a chain, two dark youths with + shocks of black hair, and a red-headed woman with silver hoops in her ears + and a baby in her arms. + </p> + <p> + “The two young boys threw me a glance of hatred, and stared at Susanna and + her friend with extraordinary avidity. + </p> + <p> + “What very false ideas must have been going through their minds! I might + have approached them and said politely: + </p> + <p> + “‘Do not imagine that these ladies are of different stuff from this red + woman who has the baby in her arms. They are all the same. There is no + more difference than what is caused by a little soap and some money.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Let us go in and see the church,’ said Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “‘Good. Come along.’ + </p> + <p> + “The church has a flight of stone steps and two cypresses to one side. + </p> + <p> + “We went into a court with graves in it, and stayed there a while, reading + the names of the people buried in them. Susanna’s friend is a sort of + little devil with the instincts of a small boy, and she went springing + about in all the corners. + </p> + <p> + “When we came out of the church we found the square, deserted before, now + full of people. During the time we had stayed inside, a numerous group of + tourists had formed a circle, and a gentleman was explaining in English + what the Via Appia used to be. + </p> + <p> + “‘These are the things that please you,’ Susanna said to me, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “I answered with a joke. The truth is that no matter how many explanations + I am given, an ancient Roman always seems a cardboard figure to me, or at + most a marble figure. It is not possible to imagine how bored I used to be + reading <i>Les Martyres</i> of Chateaubriand and that famous <i>Quo Vadis</i>. + </p> + <p> + “From the Piazza di San Gregorio we took a steep street, the ‘Via di Santi + Giovanni e Paolo,’ which passes under an arch with several brick + buttresses. + </p> + <p> + “We came out in a little square, in an angle of which there is an ancient + arcaded tower, which has tiles set into the walls, some round and others + the shape of a Greek cross. + </p> + <p> + “The modern portico of the church has columns and a grated door, which we + found open. Over the door is a picture of Saint John and Saint Paul; on + the sides of it two shields with the mitre and the keys. On one, set round + about, are the Latin words: <i>Omnium rerum est vicisitudo;</i> on the + other is written in Spanish: <i>Mi corazón arde en mucha llama.</i> + </p> + <p> + “‘Is it Spanish?’ Susanna asked me. + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘What does it mean?’ + </p> + <p> + “I translated the phrase into English: ‘My heart burns with a great + flame’; and Susanna repeated it several times, and begged me to write it + in her card-case. + </p> + <p> + “Her friend skimmed some pages in Baedeker and said: + </p> + <p> + “‘It seems that the house of two saints martyred by Julian the Apostate is + preserved here.’ + </p> + <p> + “I assured them that that was an error. I happen to have been reading just + a few days ago a book about Julian the Apostate, and it turns out that + that Emperor was an admirable man, good, generous, brave, full of virtues; + but the Christians had reason for calumniating him and they calumniated + him. All Julian’s persecutions of Christians are logical repressions of + people that were disturbing public order, and the phrase, Vencisti, + Galileo, is a pious fraud. Julian was a philosopher, he loved science, + hygiene, cleanliness, peace, in a world of hysterical worshipers of + corpses, who wanted to live in ignorance, filth, and prayer. + </p> + <p> + “But Christianity, always a religion of hallucinated persons, of + mystifiers, has never vacillated in singing the praises of parricides like + Constantine, and in calumniating the memory of great men like Julian. + </p> + <p> + “Susanna and her friend considered that the question of whether Julian has + been calumniated by history, or not, was of no importance. + </p> + <p> + “The truth is that I feel the same way. + </p> + <p> + “From the Via di Santi Giovanni e Paolo we came out into a small square by + a church, which has a little marble ship in front of its porch. We saw + that his street is named after the <i>Navicella.</i>” + </p> + <p> + A ROYAL IDYLL. + </p> + <p> + “By the side of the church of the Navicella, we passed the Villa Mattei, + and Susanna wished to go in. What a beautiful property! What splendid + terraces those in that garden are! What laurels! What lemon-trees! What + old statues! What heavy shade of pines and live-oaks! + </p> + <p> + “Kennedy, who has an admirable knowledge of every corner of Rome, has told + me that at the beginning of the XIX Century the Villa Mattei was the + property of Godoy. King Charles IV and his wife were in Rome, living in + the Barberini Palace, and they spent their days in the seclusion of the + Villa Mattei; and while the favourite and the Queen, who had now become a + harpy, walked in those poetical avenues, bordered with box and laurel, the + good Bourbon, now an old man, walked behind them, his forehead ornamented + like a faun’s, enchanted to watch them; I don’t know whether he was + playing the flute. + </p> + <p> + “Susanna’s friend laughed at the thought of the good Charles IV, with his + waistcoat and his long coat, and his satyr’s excrescences, and his rural + flute; but the allusion did not find favour with Susanna, whether because + she thought of her husband’s infidelities, or because she considered, that + if her father gets to be the shoe-king, she will then have a certain + spiritual relationship to the Bourbons. In the Villa Mattei we saw an <i>ediculo</i>, + which rises at the edge of a terrace, amidst climbing plants. There, as an + inscription says, Saint Philip Neri talked to his disciples of things + divine. From the terrace one can see the Baths of Caracalla, and part of + the Roman Campagna behind them. + </p> + <p> + “We came out of the Villa Mattei and left the Piazza, della Navicella and + came down through a place where there is a wall with arches, under which + some beggars have built huts out of gasoline cans. There is an + eating-place thereabouts called the Osteria di Porta Metronia. + </p> + <p> + “Susanna’s friend consulted her book, and the result was that we found we + were in the Vale of Egeria. + </p> + <p> + “From there we came out by a narrow road running along a wall, not a very + high one, over which green laurel branches projected. We saw an obelisk at + the end of the road, and the entablature of Saint John the Lateran. The + group of statues, reddish brown, silhouetted against the sky, made a very + strange effect. + </p> + <p> + “We started to go down by the Via di San Sisto Vecchio, which also runs + along by a wall. At the bottom of the slope there is a mill, with a deep + race. Susanna’s friend said she would enjoy bathing there. + </p> + <p> + “We came out, at nightfall, almost opposite the Baths of Caracalla. + </p> + <p> + “‘They ought to knock these ruins down altogether,’ I said. + </p> + <p> + “‘Why so?’ asked Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “‘Because they appear to be standing here to demonstrate the uselessness + of human energy.’ Susanna was very little interested as to whether human + energy is useful or useless. + </p> + <p> + “I am, because my own energy forms a part of human energy, and for no + other reason. + </p> + <p> + “We came back past the Forum, but today we did not come upon any funerals. + To demand that somebody should die every day and his corpse be carried out + at twilight to feed tourists’ emotions, would, I think, be demanding too + much. + </p> + <p> + “When we reached her hotel, Susanna let her friend go up first; and as + soon as we were alone, she looked at me expressively, placing one hand on + her breast, and said to me, in nasal Spanish: + </p> + <p> + “<i>‘Mi corazón arde en mucha llama.‘</i> + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe it.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIV. TOURIST INTERLUDE + </h2> + <h3> + TRAVELLING + </h3> + <p> + “Susanna said to me: ‘I have some inclination for you, but I don’t know + you well enough. If you feel the same way, come with me. Let us travel + together? I am with her, and nevertheless I am convinced that what I am + doing is a piece of stupidity. + </p> + <p> + “We spent this Sunday morning in the train. In the country we saw men at + work with great oxen that had long twisted horns. In a swampy field some + labourers were draining the ground with great effort. From the train we + saw the island of Elba, and Capraia, and the sea as blue as indigo. + </p> + <p> + “<i>‘Mare nostro,’’</i> said an elegant gentleman in a fluty voice, and + pointed out something on the horizon which he said was Corsica, and he + said that it can be seen from far away. + </p> + <p> + “While all we useless, unoccupied persons gathered in the dining-car, the + people in the fields kept on working, bent over in the mud, draining the + marshes. + </p> + <p> + “‘What a lot of effort those poor devils have to make to keep us alive.’ I + said. + </p> + <p> + “‘We are not kept alive by them,’ retorted Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “‘No, we live off of other slaves, who work for us,’ I answered her. + ‘Those out there serve to feed the officers, the effeminate priestlings, + all the people that take part in the theatrical performance of the + Vatican. Those unfortunates help to uphold the eight basilicas and the + three hundred odd churches of Rome.’ + </p> + <p> + “Susanna shrugged her shoulders and smiled.” + </p> + <p> + CLOSE TO + </p> + <p> + “Travelling with a woman one does not love, no matter how very pretty she + is, produces a series of disenchantments. It seems as if one kept seeking + defects and analysing them under the microscope. During these days that I + have been accompanying Susanna, I have discovered a lot of physical and + moral imperfections in her. There are moments in which she cannot conceal + an egoism and brutality which are truly disagreeable; and besides, she is + tyrannical, vain, and tries always to have her own way. + </p> + <p> + “We have been at Siena, which is a kind of Toledo, made up of narrow + lanes. It was very hot. We were bored, especially she who has no artistic + feeling. + </p> + <p> + “We have spent two days in Florence, a night in Bologna, another night at + Milan, and after vacillating as to whether it would be better to go to + Lake Como or to Switzerland, we have come to Geneva to spend a few days. + </p> + <p> + “Travelling like this in limited trains, one finds travelling more insipid + than in any other fashion. All the sleeping-cars are alike, all the people + alike, all the hotels alike. Really it is Stupid. + </p> + <p> + “It is still more stupid travelling with a woman who attracts attention + wherever she goes. She attracts attention, that is all; she doesn’t awaken + any liking. She cannot comprehend why, being a beautiful and distinguished + woman, she has nobody who cares for her disinterestedly. She notices that + all the smart young men who aim for her are simply coming to the beautiful + rich woman. + </p> + <p> + “And she thinks they ought to be in ecstasies over her wit and over the + repertory of ready-made phrases she keeps for conversation.” + </p> + <p> + A TIRESOME HOTEL. + </p> + <p> + “In this immense, luxurious hotel, situated two thousand odd metres above + sea-level, as the announcement-cards stuck everywhere say, more than a + hundred of us gather in the dining-room at lunch-time. The greatest + coolness, the most frozen composure reigns among us. + </p> + <p> + “It is obvious that, thus harboured and united by chance in this hotel, we + disturb one another; a wall of prejudices and conventionalities separates + us. The English old maids read their romantic novels; the German families + talk among themselves; some Russian or other drinks champagne while he + stares with vague and inexpressive eyes; and some swarthy man from a + sultry country appears to be crushed by the lugubrious silence. + </p> + <p> + “Through the windows one can see Lake Leman, closed in near here by + mountains, blue like a great turquoise, ploughed by white, triangular + sails. From time to time one hears the strident noise of a steamboat’s + siren and the murmur of the funicular train.” + </p> + <p> + A MODEST FAMILY + </p> + <p> + “To this ostentatious hotel a family of modest air came two days ago. It + was a family made up of five persons; two ladies, one of them plain, thin, + spectacled, the other plumper and short; a merry girl, smiling and rosy, + and a melancholy little girl, with a waxen face. They were accompanied by + a man with a distinguished, weary manner. + </p> + <p> + “They are all in mourning. They are English; they treat one another with + an attractive affability. The short lady, mother of the two girls, was + pressing the man’s hand and caressing it, during lunch the first day. He + kept smiling in a gentle, tired way. No doubt he was unable to stay here + long, for he did not appear that evening, and the four females were alone + in the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + “The two ladies and the fresh, blooming girl are much preoccupied about + the pale little girl, so much so that they do not notice the interest they + arouse among the guests. All the old ‘misses,’ loaded with jewels, watch + the family in mourning, as if they were wondering: ‘How come they here, if + their position is not so good as ours? How dare they mix among us, not + being in our class?’ + </p> + <p> + “And it is a fact; they cannot be; there is something that shows that this + family is not rich. Besides, and this is extraordinary enough, it seems + that they haven’t come here to look down on others, or to give themselves + airs, but to take walks and to look at the immaculate peaks of Mont Blanc. + So one sees the two girls going out into the country without making an + elaborate toilet, carrying a book or an orange in their hands, and coming + back with bunches of flowers....” + </p> + <p> + <i>TRAGEDY IN A HOTEL ROOM</i> + </p> + <p> + “This morning at lunch only one of the ladies appeared in the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + “‘Perhaps the others have gone off on some picnic,’ thought I. + </p> + <p> + “In the evening at dinner, the tall woman with the glasses and the larger + of the two girls were at table. They didn’t eat, and disquietude was + painted on their faces; the girl had flushed cheeks and swollen eyes. + </p> + <p> + “‘What can be happening to them?’ I asked myself. + </p> + <p> + “At that juncture, in came the short lady, with two vials of medicine in + her hand, and put them on the table. By what I could hear of the + conversation, she had just come from Lausanne, where she had gone for the + doctor. The melancholy little girl, the one with the waxen face, must be + ill. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt the family have come to Switzerland for the sake of the child, + who is probably delicate, and have made a sacrifice to do so. That + explains their modest air, and the rapid departure of the man who brought + them. + </p> + <p> + “The three women gazed sadly at one another. What can the poor child have? + I remember nothing about her, except her hair parted in the middle, and + the pallid colour of her bloodless skin, and nevertheless it makes me sad + to think that she is sick. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to offer myself to these women at this crisis; I should + like to say to them: ‘I am a humble person, without money; but if I could + be useful to you in any way, I would do it with all my heart; and that is + more than I would do for this gang covered with brilliants.’ + </p> + <p> + “The German who eats at the next table to the family understands what is + happening, and he leaves off eating to look at them, and then looks at me + with his blue eyes. At last he shrugs his shoulders, lowers his head, and + empties a glass of wine at one gulp. + </p> + <p> + “The three women rise and go to their rooms. One hears them coming and + going in the corridor; then a waiter takes their dinner upstairs. + </p> + <p> + “And while the family are desolate up there, down here in the ‘hall’ the + ‘misses’ keep on looking at one another contemptuously, exhibiting rings + that sparkle on their fingers, and which would keep hundreds of people + alive; and while they are weeping upstairs, down here a blond Yankee + woman, with a large blue hat, a friend of Susanna’s, who flirts with a + youth from Chicago, is laughing heartily, showing a set of white teeth in + which there shines a chip of gold.” + </p> + <p> + <i>SUSANNA DOES NOT UNDERSTAND</i> + </p> + <p> + “I have spoken to Susanna about the poor English girl, who, they say, is + dying; and she has bidden me not to tell her sad things. She cannot bear + other people’s suffering. She says she is more sensitive than others. How + very comical! + </p> + <p> + “This fine lady, who thinks herself so witty and so sensitive, has an + inner skin like a hippopotamus; she is covered with a magnificent egoism, + which must be at least of galvanized steel. Her armour protects her + against the action of other people’s miseries and pains. + </p> + <p> + “This woman, so beautiful, is of a grotesque egotism; one understands her + husband’s despising her. + </p> + <p> + “I am leaving her with her millions and going away to Spain.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART TWO. CASTRO DURO + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. ARRIVAL. <i>CÆSAR IN ACTION</i> + </h2> + <p> + During the night Cæsar Moncada and Alzugaray chatted in the train. + Alzugaray was praising this first Quixotic sally of his friend’s. + </p> + <p> + “We are going to cross the Rubicon, Cæsar,” he said, as he got into the + train. + </p> + <p> + “We shall see.” + </p> + <p> + Many times Alzugaray had heard Cæsar explain his plans, but he had no + great confidence in their realization. Nor did this particular moment seem + to him opportune for beginning the campaign. Everybody believed that the + Liberal Ministry was stronger than ever; people were still away for the + summer; nothing was doing. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, Cæsar insisted that the crisis was imminent, and that it was + the precise moment for him to enter politics. With this object he was + taking a letter from Alarcos, the leader of the Conservatives, to Don + Calixto García Guerrero. + </p> + <p> + “Your Don Calixto will be at San Sebastian or at some water-cure,” said + Alzugaray, taking his seat in the train. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all the same to me. I intend to follow him until I find him,” + answered Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “And you are decided to run as a Conservative?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you won’t be sorry later.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! Later one jumps into the position that suits one. On these first + rungs of political life, either you have to have great luck, or you have + to go like a grasshopper, first here, then there. That is the take-off, + and when you are there all the ambitious mediocrities unite against you if + you have any talent. Naturally, I do not intend to do anything to exhibit + mine. Spanish politics are like a pond; a strong, healthy stick of wood + goes to the bottom; a piece of bark or cork or a sheaf of straw stays on + the surface. One has to disguise oneself as a cork.” + </p> + <p> + “And later you will go on and make yourself known.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally. Since I find myself in the vein for making comparisons, I will + say that in Spanish politics we have a case like those in the old comedies + of intrigue, where the lackeys pretend to be gentlemen. When I am once + among the gentlemen, I shall know how to prove that I am more a master + than the people surrounding me.” + </p> + <p> + “How conceited you are.” + </p> + <p> + “The confidence one feels in oneself,” said Cæsar ironically. + </p> + <p> + “But have you really got it, or do you only pretend to have?” + </p> + <p> + “What matter whether I have it or haven’t it, if I behave as if I had it?” + </p> + <p> + “It matters a lot. It matters whether you are calm or not in the moment of + danger.” + </p> + <p> + “Calmness is the muse that inspires me. I haven’t it in my thoughts, but + in active life you shall see me!” + </p> + <p> + The two friends stretched themselves out in their first-class compartment, + and lay half asleep until dawn, when they got up again. + </p> + <p> + The train was running rapidly across the flat country; the yellow sunlight + shone into the car; through the newly sowed fields rode men on horseback. + </p> + <p> + “These are not my dominions yet,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “We have two more stations till Castro Duro,” responded Alzugaray, + consulting the time-table. They took off their caps, put them into the + bag, Cæsar put on a fresh collar, and they sat down by the window. + </p> + <p> + “It is ugly enough, eh?” said Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” replied Cæsar. “What do you want; that there should be some + of those green landscapes like in your country, which for my part irritate + me?” + </p> + <p> + THE CLASSIC STAGECOACH + </p> + <p> + They arrived at Castro Duro. In the station they saw groups of peasants. + The travellers with their baggage went out of the station. There were two + shabby coaches at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to the Comercio?” asked one driver. + </p> + <p> + “No, they are going to the España,” said the other. + </p> + <p> + “Then you two know more than we do,” answered Alzugaray, “because we don’t + know where to go.” + </p> + <p> + “To the Comercio!” + </p> + <p> + “To the España!” + </p> + <p> + “Whose coach is this one?” asked Cæsar, pointing to the less dirty of the + two. + </p> + <p> + “The Comercio’s.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, then we are going to the Comercio.” + </p> + <p> + The coach, in spite of being the better of the two, was a rickety, + worn-out old omnibus, with its windows broken and spotted. It was drawn by + three skinny mules, full of galls. Cæsar and Alzugaray got in and waited. + The coachman, with the whip around his neck, and a young man who looked a + bit like a seminarian, began to chat and smoke. + </p> + <p> + At the end of five minutes’ waiting, Cæsar asked: + </p> + <p> + “Well, aren’t we going?” + </p> + <p> + “In a moment, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The moment stretched itself out a good deal. A priest arrived, so fat that + he would have filled the vehicle all alone; then a woman from the town + with a basket, which she held on her knees; then the postman got in with + his bag; the driver closed the little window in the coach door, and + continued joking with the young man who looked a bit like a seminarian and + with one of the station men. + </p> + <p> + “We are in a hurry,” said Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “We are going now, sir. All right. Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye!” answered the station man and the seminarian. + </p> + <p> + The driver got up on his seat, cracked his whip, and the vehicle began to + move, with a noisy swaying and a trembling of all its wood and glass. A + very thick cloud of dust arose in the road. + </p> + <p> + “Ya, ya, Coronela!” yelled the driver. “Why do you keep getting where you + oughtn’t to get? Damn the mule! Montesina, I am going to give you a couple + of whacks. Get on there, Coronela! Get up, get up.... All right! All + right!... That’s enough.... That’s enough.... Let it alone, now! Let it + alone, now!” + </p> + <p> + “What an amount of oratory that man is wasting,” exclaimed Cæsar; “he must + think that the mules are going to go better for the efforts of his throat. + It would be an advantage if he had stronger beasts, instead of these dying + ones.” + </p> + <p> + The other travellers paid no attention to his observation, and Alzugaray + said: + </p> + <p> + “These drivers drip oratory.” + </p> + <p> + While the shabby coach was going along the highway which encircles Castro + hill, to the sound of the bells and the cracking of the whip, it was + possible to remain seated in the vehicle with comparative ease; but on + reaching the town’s first steep, crooked, rough-cobbled street, the + swinging and tossing were such that the travellers kept falling one upon + another. + </p> + <p> + The first street kept getting rapidly narrower, and as it grew narrower, + the crags in its paving were sharper and more prominent. At the highest + part of the street, in the middle, stood a two-wheeled cart blocking the + way. The coachman got down, from his seat and started a long discussion + with the carter, as to who was under obligations to make way. + </p> + <p> + “What idiots!” exclaimed Cæsar, irritated; then, calmer, he murmured, + addressing Alzugaray, “The truth is, these people don’t care about doing + anything but talk.” + </p> + <p> + As the discussion between the coachman and the carter gave signs of never + ending, Cæsar said: + </p> + <p> + “Come along,” and then, addressing the man with the bag, he asked him, “Is + it far from here to the inn?” + </p> + <p> + “No; it is right here, in the house where the café is.” THE INN + </p> + <p> + Sure enough, the inn was only a step away. They went into the damp, dark + entrance, up the crooked stairs, and down the corridor to the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, good morning!” they shouted. + </p> + <p> + Nobody appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Might it be on the second floor?” asked Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “Let’s go see.” + </p> + <p> + They went up to the next floor, entered by a gallery of red brick, which + was falling to pieces, and called several times. An old woman, from inside + a dark bedroom where she was sweeping, bade them go down to the + dining-room, where she would bring them breakfast. + </p> + <p> + The dining-room had balconies toward the country, and was full of sun; the + bedrooms they were taken to, on the other hand, were dark, gloomy, and + cavernous. Alzugaray requested the old woman to show them the other vacant + chambers, and chose two on the second floor, which were lighter and + airier. + </p> + <p> + The old woman told them she hadn’t wanted to take them there, because + there was no paper on the walls. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt, in Castro, the prospect of bed-bugs is an agreeable prospect,” + said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + After he had washed and dressed, Cæsar started out to find and capture Don + Calixto, and Alzugaray went to take a stroll around the town. It was + agreed that they should each explore the region in his own way. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. CASTRO DURO + </h2> + <h3> + THE MORNING + </h3> + <p> + In these severe old Castilian towns there is one hour of ideal peace and + serenity. That is the early morning. The cocks are still crowing, the + sound of the church bells is scattered on the air, and the sun begins to + penetrate into the streets in gusts of light. The morning is a flood of + charity that falls upon the yellowish town. + </p> + <p> + The sky is blue, the air limpid, pure, and diaphanous; the transparent + atmosphere scarcely admits effects of perspective, and its ethereal mass + makes the outlines of the houses, of the belfries, of the eaves, vibrate. + The cold breeze plays at the cross-streets, and amuses itself by twisting + the stems of the geraniums and pinks that flame on the balconies. + Everywhere there is an odour of cistus and of burning broom, which comes + from the ovens where the bread is baked, and an odour of lavender that + comes from the house entries. + </p> + <p> + The town yawns and awakes; some priests pass, on their way to church; + pious women come out of their houses; and market men and women begin to + arrive from the villages nearby. The bells make that <i>tilín-talán</i> so + sad, which seems confined to these dead towns. In the main street the + shops open; a boy hangs up the dresses, the sandals, the caps, on the + façade, reaching them up with a stick. Droves of mules are seen in front + of the grain-shops; some charcoal-burners go by, selling charcoal; and + peasant women lead, by their halters, little burros loaded with jars and + pans. + </p> + <p> + One hears all the hawksters’ cries, all the clatter characteristic of that + town. The milk-vendor, the honey-vendor, the chestnut-vendor, each has his + own traditional theme. The candlestick-maker produces a sonorous peal from + two copper candlesticks, the scissors-grinder whistles on his flute.... + </p> + <p> + Then, at midday, hawksters and peasants disappear, the sun shines hotter, + and the afternoon is tiresome and enervating. + </p> + <p> + FROM THE MIRADERO + </p> + <p> + Castro Duro is situated on a hill of red earth. + </p> + <p> + One goes up to the town by a dusty highway, with the remains of little + trees which one Europeanizing mayor planted, and which all died; or else + by zigzag paths, up which saddle-animals and beasts of burden usually go. + </p> + <p> + From the plain Castro Duro stands out in silhouette against the sky, + between two high, many-sided edifices, one of a honey yellow, old and + respectable, the church; the other white, overgrown, modern, the prison. + </p> + <p> + These two pillars of society are conspicuous from all sides, from + whatsoever point on the plain one looks at Castro Duro. + </p> + <p> + The town was an old important city, and has, from afar, a seigniorial air; + from nearby, on the contrary, it presents that aspect of caked dust which + all the Castilian cities in ruin have; it is wide, spread out, formed for + the most part of lanes and little squares, with low crooked houses that + have blackish, warped roofs. + </p> + <p> + From the promenade beside the church, which is called the Miradero, one + can see the great valley that surrounds Castro, a plain without an end, + flat and empty. At the foot of the hill that supports the city, a broad + river, which formerly kissed the old walls, marks a huge S with a sand + border. + </p> + <p> + The water of the river covers the beach in winter, and leaves it half + uncovered in summer. At intervals on the river banks grow little groves of + poplar, which are mirrored on the tranquil surface of the water. A very + long bridge of more than twenty arches crosses from one shore to the + other. + </p> + <p> + The hill that serves as pedestal for the historic city has very different + aspects; from one side it is seen terraced into steps, formed of small + parcels of land held up by rough stone walls. On these landings there are + thickets of vines and a few almond-trees, which grow even out of the + spaces between the stones. + </p> + <p> + On another part of the hill, called the Trenches, the whole ground is + broken by great cuttings, which in other days were no doubt used for the + defence of the city. Near the trenches are to be seen the remains of + battlemented walls, tiles, and ruins of an ancient settlement, perhaps + destroyed by the waters of the river which in time undermined its + foundations. + </p> + <p> + From the Miradero one sees the bridge below, as from a balloon, with men, + riding horses, and carts going over it, all diminished by the distance. + Women are washing clothes and spreading them in the sun, and in the + evening horses and herds of goats are drinking at the river brink. + </p> + <p> + The great plain, the immense flat land, contains cultivated fields, + square, oblong, varying in colour with the seasons, from the light green + of barley to the gold of wheat and the dirty yellow of stubble. Near the + river are truck-gardens and orchards of almonds and other fruit trees. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon, looking from the Miradero, from the height where Castro + stands, one feels overcome by this sea of earth, by the vast horizon, and + the profound silence. The cocks toss their metallic crowing into the air; + the clock-bells mark the hours with a sad, slow clang; and at evening the + river, brilliant in its two or three fiery curves, grows pale and turns to + blue. On clear days the sunset has extraordinary magic. The entire town + floats in a sea of gold. The Collegiate church changes from yellow to + lemon colour, and at times to orange; and there are old walls which take + on, in the evening light, the colour of bread well browned in the oven. + And the sun disappears into the plain, and the Angelus bell sounds through + the immense space. + </p> + <p> + THE TOWN + </p> + <p> + Castro Duro has a great many streets, as many as an important capital. By + only circling the Square one can count the Main Street, Laurel Street, + Christ Street, Merchants’ Street, Forge Street, Shoemakers’ Street, + Loafing Street, Penitence Wall, and Chain Street. + </p> + <p> + These streets are built with large brick houses and small adobe houses. + Pointed cobbles form the pavement, and leave a dirty open sewer in the + middle. + </p> + <p> + The large houses have two granite columns on their facades, on either side + of the door, and these columns as well as the stones of the threshold take + on a violet tinge from the lees of wine the inhabitants have the custom of + putting on the sidewalks to dry. + </p> + <p> + Many of the big houses in Castro boast a large ‘scutcheon over the door, + little crazy towers with iron weather-cocks on the roof; and some of them + a huge stork’s nest. + </p> + <p> + The streets remote from the centre of town have no paving, and their + houses are low, built of adobe, and continued by yards, over whose + mud-walls appear the branches of fig-trees. + </p> + <p> + These houses lean forward or backward, and they have worn-out balconies, + staircases which hold up through some prodigy of stability, and old + grills, crowned with a cross and embellished with big flowers of wrought + iron. + </p> + <p> + The two principal monuments of Castro Duro are the Great Church and the + palace. + </p> + <p> + The Great Church is Romanesque, of a colour between yellow and brown, + gilded by the sun. It stands high, at one extremity of the hill, like a + sentinel watching the valley. The solid old fabric has rows of crenels + under the roof, which shows its warlike character. + </p> + <p> + The principal dome and the smaller ones are ribbed, like almost all the + Romanesque churches of Spain. + </p> + <p> + The round apse exhibits ornamental half columns, divers rosettes, and a + number of raised figures, and masonic symbols. In the interior of the + church the most notable thing to be seen is the Renaissance altar-piece + and a Romanesque arch that gives entrance to the baptistery. + </p> + <p> + The second archeological monument of the town is the ancient palace of the + Dukes of Castro Duro. + </p> + <p> + The palace, a great structure of stone and now blackened brick, rises at + the side of the town-hall, and has, like it, an arcade on the Square. In + the central balcony there are monumental columns, and on top of them two + giants of corroded stone, with large clubs, who appear to guard the + ‘scutcheon; one end of the building is made longer by a square tower. + </p> + <p> + The palace wears the noble air given to old edifices by the large spread + of wall containing windows very far apart, very small, and very much + ornamented. + </p> + <p> + From the inscriptions on its various escutcheons one can gather that it + was erected by the Duke of Castro Duro and his wife, Doña Guiomar. + </p> + <p> + In the rear of the palace, like a high belvedere built on the rampart, + there appears a gallery formed of ten round arches, supported on slender + pilasters. Below the gallery are the remains of a garden, with ramps and + terraces and a few old statues. The river comes almost to the foot of the + gardens. + </p> + <p> + Today the palace belongs to Don Calixto García Guerrero, Count de la + Sauceda. + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto and his family have no necessity for the whole of this big + palace to live in, and have been content to renovate the part fronting on + the Calle Mayor. They have had new belvederes built in, and have given + over the apartments looking on the Square and the Calle del Cristo to the + Courts and the school. + </p> + <p> + Another great building, which astonishes every one that stops over at + Castro Duro, by its size, is the Convent of la Merced. It has been half + destroyed by a fire. In the groins there remain some large Renaissance + brackets, and in one wing of the edifice, inhabited by the nuns, there are + windows with jalousies and a rather lofty tower terminating in a + weather-cock and a cross. + </p> + <p> + LIFE AT CASTRO + </p> + <p> + Castro Duro is principally a town of farmers and carriers. Its municipal + limits are very extensive; the plain surrounding it is fertile enough. In + winter there are many foggy days, and then the flat land looks like a sea, + in which hillocks and groves float like islands. Wine and cultivated + fruits constitute the principal riches of Castro. The wine is sharp, badly + made; there is one thick dark variety which always tastes of tar, and one + light variety which they reinforce with alcohol and which they call + aloque. + </p> + <p> + Autumn is the period of greatest animation in the town; the harvest gets + stowed away, the vintage made, the sweet almonds are gathered and shelled + in the porticoes. + </p> + <p> + Formerly in all the houses of rich and poor, the murk of the grapes was + boiled in a still and a somewhat bitter brandy thus manufactured. Whether + in consequence of the brandy, or of the unusual amount of money about, or + of both, the fact is that at that period a great passion for gambling + developed in Castro and more crimes were committed then than during all + the rest of the year. + </p> + <p> + The industrial processes in Castro are primitive; everything is made by + hand, and the Castrian people imagine that this establishes a superiority. + In the environs of the town there are an electrical plant, a brickyard, + various mills, and lime and plaster kilns. + </p> + <p> + The town’s commerce is more extended than its industries, although no more + prosperous. In the Square and in the Calle Mayor, under the arcades white + goods are sold and woollens, and there are hat-shops and silversmiths, one + alongside the other. The shopkeepers hang their merchandise in the arches, + the saddlers and harness-makers decorate their entrances with head-stalls + and straps, and those that have no archway put up awnings. In the Square + there are continually stalls set up for earthenware jars and pitchers and + for articles in tin. + </p> + <p> + In the outlying streets there are inns, at whose doors five or six mules + with their heads together are almost constantly to be seen; there are + crockery stores containing brooms and every kind of jug and glazed pan; + there are little shops in doorways holding big baskets full of grain; + there are dark taverns, which are also eating-houses, to which the + peasants go to eat on market days, and whose signs are strings of dried + pimentoes and cayenne peppers or an elm branch. In the written signs there + is a truly Castilian charm, chaste and serene. At the Riojano oven one + reads: “‘Bred’ baked for all ‘commers.’” And at the Campico inn it says: + “Wine served by Furibis herself.” The shops and the inns have picturesque + names too. There is the Sign of the Moor, and the Sign of the Jew, and the + Sign of the Lion, and one of the Robbers. + </p> + <p> + The streets of Castro, especially those near the centre, where the crowd + is greater, are dirty and ill-smelling in summer. Clouds of flies hover + about and settle on the pairs of blissfully sleeping oxen; the sun pours + down his blinding brilliance; not a soul passes, and only a few + greyhounds, white and black, elegant and sad, rove about the streets... + </p> + <p> + In all seasons, at twilight, a few young gentlemen promenade in the + Square. At nine at night in the winter, and at ten in summer, begins the + reign of the watchmen with their dramatic and lamentable cry. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Alzugaray gave Cæsar these details by degrees, while they were both seated + in the hotel getting ready to dine. + </p> + <p> + “And the type? The ethnic type? What is it, according to you?” asked + Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “A type rather thin than fat, supple, with an aquiline nose, black + eyes...” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the Iberian type,” said Cæsar, “that is how it struck me too. Tall, + supple, dolichocephalic... It seems to me one can try to put something + through in this town...” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. CÆSAR’S LABOURS + </h2> + <h3> + FIRST STEPS + </h3> + <p> + “And what have you been doing all day? Tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “I think, my dear Alzugaray,” said Cæsar, “that I can say, like my + namesake Julius: ‘Veni, vidi, vice.’” + </p> + <p> + “The devil! The first day?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Show me. What happened?” + </p> + <p> + “I left the house and entered the café downstairs. There was no one there + but a small boy, from whom I ordered a bottle of beer and asked if there + was a newspaper published here. He told me yes, the <i>Castro Mail</i>, an + independent weekly. I bade him fetch me a copy, even an old one, and he + brought me these two. I gave them a glance, and then, as if it didn’t + interest me much, I questioned the lad about Don Calixto. + </p> + <p> + “The first impression I obtained was that Don Calixto is the most + influential person in the town; the second, that besides him, either with + him or against him, there is a Señor Don Platón Peribáñez, almost as + influential as Don Calixto. Afterwards I read the two numbers of the + Castro periodical attentively, and from this reading I gathered that there + is a somewhat hazy question here about an Asylum, where it seems some + irregularities have been committed. There is a Republican book-dealer, who + is a member of the Council, and on whom the Workmen’s Club depends, and he + has asked for information as to the facts from the Municipality, and the + followers of Don Calixto and of Don Platón oppose this suggestion as an + attack on the good-birth, the honour, and the reputation of such + respectable personages. + </p> + <p> + “Having verified these pieces of news, which are of interest for me, I + packed off to church and heard the whole eleven o’clock mass.” + </p> + <p> + “Mighty good! You are quite a man.” + </p> + <p> + “Mass ended, I went over to the Baptistery arch and stood there examining + it, as if I felt the most terrible symptoms of enthusiasm for carved + stone. Afterwards I went into the big chapel, which serves also as a + pantheon for the Dukes of Castro Duro, whose tombs you find in the side + niches of the presbytery. These niches are decorated with an efflorescence + of Gothic, which is most gay and pretty, and among all this stone filigree + you see the recumbent statues of a number of knights and one bishop, who + to judge by his sword must have been a warrior too. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody remained in the church; the priest, a nice old man, fixed his eyes + on me and asked me what I thought of the arch. And having prepared my + lesson, I talked about the Romanesque of the XII and XIII Centuries like a + professor, and then he took me into the sacristy and showed me two + paintings on wood which I told him were XV Century. + </p> + <p> + “‘So they say,’ the priest agreed. ‘Do you think they are Italian or + German?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Italian certainly, North Italian.’ I might as well have said South + German, but I had to decide for something. + </p> + <p> + “‘And they must be worth...? he then asked me with eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “‘My dear man; according,’ I told him. ‘A dealer would offer you a hundred + or two hundred pesetas apiece. In London or New York, well placed, they + might be worth twenty or thirty thousand francs.’ + </p> + <p> + “The ‘pater’ shot fire out of his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “‘And what would one have to do about it?’ he asked me. + </p> + <p> + “‘My dear man, I think one would have to take some good photographs and + send them to various trades-people and to the museums in the United + States.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Would it be necessary to write in English?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes, it would be the most practical thing.’ “‘I don’t think there is + anybody here that knows how....’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I would do it, with great pleasure.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘But are you going to be here for some time?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes, it is probable.’ + </p> + <p> + “He asked me what I came to Castro Duro for, and I told him that I had no + other object than to visit Don Calixto García Guerrero. + </p> + <p> + “Astonishment on the priest’s face. + </p> + <p> + “‘You know him?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Yes, I met him in Rome.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Do you know where he lives?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Then I will take you.’ + </p> + <p> + “The priest and I went out into the street. He wanted to give me the + sidewalk, and I opposed that as if it were a crime. He told me he was more + accustomed than I to walking on the cobble-stones; and finally, he on the + sidewalk and I in the gutter, we arrived at Don Calixto’s house.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + “Was he at home?” asked Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Cæsar. “By the way, on the road there we bowed to the present + Deputy to the Cortes, he who will be my opponent in the approaching + election, Señor García Padilla.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear man! What a coincidence! What sort is he?” + </p> + <p> + “He is tall, with a reddish aquiline nose, a greyish moustache, full of + cosmetic, a poor type.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a Liberal?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is a Liberal, because Don Calixto is a Conservative. In his + heart, nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Good. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + <i>DON CALIXTO AT HOME</i> + </p> + <p> + “As I was saying, Don Calixto was at home, in a large room on the ground + floor, which serves as his office. Don Calixto is a tall, supple man, with + the blackest of hair which is beginning to turn white on the temples, and + a white moustache. He is at the romantic age of illusions, of hopes....” + “How old is he?” asked Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “He isn’t more than fifty-four,” Cæsar replied, sarcastically. “Don + Calixto dresses in black, very fastidiously, and the effect is smart, but + smacks of the notary. No matter what pains he takes to appear graceful and + easy in manner, he doesn’t achieve the result; he has the inbred humility + of one who has taken orders in a shop, either as a lad or as a man. + </p> + <p> + “Don Calixto received me with great amiability, but with a certain air of + reserve, as if to say: ‘In Rome I was a merry comrade to you, here I am a + personage.’ We chatted about a lot of things, and before he could ask me + what I wanted, I pulled out the letter and handed it to him. The old man + put on his glasses, read attentively, and said: + </p> + <p> + “‘Very good, very good; we will discuss it later.’ + </p> + <p> + “The priest of course thought that he was in the way, and he left. + </p> + <p> + “When we were alone, Don Calixto said: + </p> + <p> + “‘All right, Cæsar, I am happy to see you. I see that you remember our + conversation in Rome. You must have lunch with me and my family.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘With great pleasure.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I’ll go and tell them to put on another place.’ + </p> + <p> + “Don Calixto went out and left me alone. For a while I studied the boss’s + office. On the wall, diplomas, appointments, in looking-glass frames; a + genealogical tree, probably drawn day before yesterday; in a book-case, + legal books... + </p> + <p> + “Don Calixto came back; he asked me if I was tired, and I told him no, and + when we had crossed the whole width of the house, which is huge, he showed + me the garden. My boy, what a wonderful spot! It hangs over the river and + it is a marvel. The highest part, which is the part they keep up, isn’t + worth much; it is in lamentable style; just imagine, there is a fountain + which is a tin negro that spurts out water from all parts. + </p> + <p> + “However, the old part of the garden, the lower part, is lovely. There is + a big tower standing guard over the river, now converted into a belvedere, + with pomegranates, rose-bushes, and climbing plants all around it, and + above all, there is an oleander that is a marvel...; it looks like a + fire-work castle or a shower of flowers.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + “Leave that point,” said Alzugaray. “You are talking like a poor disciple + of Ruskin’s.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right. But when you see those gardens, you will be enthusiastic, + too.” + </p> + <p> + “Get ahead.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + THE POLITICAL POWERS OF CASTRO + </p> + <p> + “During our promenade Don Calixto talked to me of the immense good he has + done for the town and of the ingratitude he constantly receives for it. + </p> + <p> + “While I listened, I recalled a little periodical in Madrid which had no + other object than to furnish bombs at reasonable prices, and which said, + speaking of a manufacturer in Catalonia: ‘Señor So-and-so is the most + powerful boss in the province of Tarragona, and even at that there are + those who dispute his bossdom.’ + </p> + <p> + “Don Calixto is astonished that when he has done the Castrians the honour + to make them loans at eighty or ninety percent, they are not fond of him. + After the garden we saw the house; I won’t tell you anything about it, I + don’t want you to accuse me again of being a Ruskinian. + </p> + <p> + “When we reached the dining-room Don Calixto said: ‘I am going to present + you to my family.’ + </p> + <p> + “Thereupon, entrance, ceremonies, bows on my part, smiles... <i>toute la + lyre</i>. Don Calixto’s wife is an insignificant fat woman; the two + daughters insipid, ungainly, not at all pretty; and with them was a little + girl of about fifteen or sixteen, a niece of Don Calixto’s, a veritable + little devil, named Amparo. This Amparo is a tiny, flat-faced creature, + with black eyes, and extraordinarily vivacious and mischievous. During + dinner I succeeded in irritating the child. + </p> + <p> + “I talked gravely with Don Calixto and his wife and daughters about + Madrid, about the theatrical companies that come to this town, about their + acquaintances at the Capital. + </p> + <p> + “The child interrupted us, bringing us the cat and putting a little bow on + him, and then making him walk on the key-board of the piano. + </p> + <p> + “At half-past one we went to the dining-room. Dinner was kilometres long; + and the conversation turned on Rome and Paris. Don Calixto drank more and + more, I, too; and at the end of the meal there was a bit of toasting, from + which my political intentions were made manifest. + </p> + <p> + “The elder daughter, whose name is Adela, asked me if I liked music. I + told her yes, almost closing my eyes, as if deliriously, and we went into + the drawing-room. Without paying attention, I listened, during the horrors + of digestion, to a number of sonatas, now and then saying: ‘Magnificent! + How wonderful that is!’ + </p> + <p> + “The father was enchanted, the mother enchanted, the sister likewise; the + little girl was the one who stared at me with questioning black eyes. She + must have been thinking: ‘What species of bird is this?’ I believe the + damned child realized that I was acting a comedy. + </p> + <p> + “About four the ladies and I went out into the garden. Don Calixto has the + habit of taking an afternoon nap, and he left us. I succeeded in bringing + myself to, in the open air. Don Calixto’s wife showed me over an abandoned + part of the house, in which there is an old kitchen as big as a cathedral, + with a stone chimney like a high altar, with the arms of the Dukes of + Castro. We chatted, I was very pleasant to the mother, courteous to the + daughters, and coldly indifferent with the little niece. I was bored, + after having exhausted all subjects of conversation, when Don Calixto + reappeared and carried me off to his office. + </p> + <p> + “The conference was important; he explained the situation of the + Conservative forces of the district to me. These forces are represented, + principally, by three men: Don Calixto, a Señor Don Platón, and a friar. + Don Calixto represents the modern Conservative tendency and is, let us + say, the Cánovas of the district; with him are the rich members of the + Casino, the superior judge, the doctors, the great proprietors, etc. Don + Platón Peribáñez, a silversmith in the Calle Mayor, represents the + middle-class Conservatives; his people are less showy, but more in earnest + and better disciplined; this Platonian or Platonic party is made up of + chandlers, silversmiths, small merchants, and the poor priests. The friar, + who represents the third Conservative nucleus, is Father Martin Lafuerza. + Father Martin is prior of the Franciscan monastery, which was established + here after the Order was expelled from Filinas. + </p> + <p> + “Father Martin is an Ultramontanist up to the eyes. He directs priests, + friars, nuns, sisters, and is the absolute master of a town nearby called + Cidones, where the women are very pious. + </p> + <p> + “Despite their piety, the reputation of those ladies cannot be very good, + because there is a proverb, certainly not very gallant: ‘Don’t get either + a wife or a mule at Cidones; neither a wife nor a mule nor a pig at + Griñón.’ + </p> + <p> + “Opposed to these three Conservative nuclei are the friends of the present + Deputy, who amount to no more than the official element, which is always + on the ruling side, and a small guerilla band that meets in the + Workingmen’s Casino, and is composed principally of a Republican + bookseller, an apothecary who invents explosives, also Republican, an + anarchist doctor, a free-thinking weaver, and an innkeeper whom they call + Furibis, who is also a smuggler and a man with hair on his chest.” + </p> + <p> + <i>DON PLATÓN PERIBÁÑEZ</i> + </p> + <p> + “After having given me these data, Don Calixto told me that by counting on + Señor Peribáñez, the election was almost sure; and since the quicker + things go the better, he proposed that we should go to see him, and I + immediately agreed. + </p> + <p> + “Don Platón Peribáñez has a silver-shop fitted up in the old style; a + small show-window, full of rattles, Moorish anklets, necklaces, little + crosses, et cetera; a narrow, dark shop, then a long passage, and at the + rear, a workroom with a window on a court. + </p> + <p> + “As his assistant in the silver-shop, Don Platón has a boy who is a + nonsuch. I believe that if you took him to London and exhibited him, + saying beforehand: ‘Bear in mind, gentlemen, that this is not a monkey or + an anthropoid, but a man,’ you would rake in a mad amount of pounds + sterling. + </p> + <p> + “We went into Don Platón’s little shop, we asked the young macaco for him, + and we passed on into the workshop. + </p> + <p> + “Señor Peribáñez is a man of medium stature, dressed in black, with a + trimmed white beard, grey eyes, and modest manners. He speaks coldly, + thinks closely of what he is saying; he has a monotonous, slow voice, and + nothing escapes him. + </p> + <p> + “Don Calixto presented me to him; the silversmith gave me his hand as if + with a certain repugnance, and the boss explained who I was and what I was + after. + </p> + <p> + “Don Platón said that he could not reply categorically without consulting + with his friends and with Father Martín. The Father has other candidates; + one the Duke of Castro himself; and the other a rich farmer of the town. + </p> + <p> + “The Duke of Castro presents no other drawback than that he has been + arrested in Paris for an insignificant swindle he has committed; but it + seems that a rich Cuban wants to get him out of his difficulties on + condition that he will marry his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “If he comes out of jail and gets married, then they will nominate him as + Deputy from here. + </p> + <p> + “I said to Don Platón, in case the worthy Duke does not come out of jail, + would he have difficulties over my being his candidate. He replied that I + am very young, and after many circumlocutions he said flatly that he + doesn’t know if I would be accepted or not as a candidate by his + followers; but in case I were, the conditions precedent would be: first, + that I would not interfere in any way in the affairs of the district, + which would be ventilated in the town, as previously; secondly, that I + should bear the costs of the election, which would amount approximately to + some ten thousand pesetas. + </p> + <p> + “Don Calixto looked at me questioningly, and I smiled in a way to make it + understood that I agreed, and after extracting a promise from Don Platón + that he will give us a definite answer this week, we took leave of him and + went to the Casino. + </p> + <p> + “There I was introduced to the judge, an Andalusian who has a spotless + reputation for veniality, and to the mayor, who is a rich farmer; and the + most important persons of the town being thus gathered at one table, we + chatted about politics, women, and gambling. + </p> + <p> + “I told them a number of tales; I told them that I once lost ten thousand + dollars at Monte Carlo, playing with two Russian princes and a Yankee + millionairess; I talked to them about the mysteries and crimes of gambling + houses and of those great centres of pleasure, and I left them speechless. + At half-past nine, with a terrible headache, I came back here. I think I + have not lost a day, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “No! The devil! What speed!” exclaimed Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “But you are not eating any supper. Don’t you intend to take anything?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I am going to see if I can sleep. Listen, day after tomorrow we are + both invited to dine at Don Calixto’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Me, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I told them that you are a rich tourist, and they want to know you.” + </p> + <p> + “And what am I to do there?” + </p> + <p> + “You can study these people, as an entomologist studies insects. Listen, + it wouldn’t do any harm if you took a walk to that town near here, named + Cidones, to see if you can find out what sort of bird this Father Martin + is.” + </p> + <p> + “All right.” + </p> + <p> + “And if you don’t mind, go into that Republican bookseller’s shop, under + any pretext, and talk to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, till tomorrow!” + </p> + <p> + “You are going now?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Goodnight, then.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar left his room and marched off to sleep. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. THE BOOKSELLER AND THE ANARCHISTS + </h2> + <p> + The following day, very early in the morning, Alzugaray went to a + livery-stable which they had directed him to at the hotel, and asked to + hire a horse. They brought him a large, old one; he mounted, and crossed + the town more slowly than if he had been on foot, and set out for Cidones. + </p> + <p> + On reaching that town, he left the horse at a blacksmith’s and went up + through the narrow lanes of Cidones, which are horribly long, dark, and + steep. + </p> + <p> + Then he ascended to la Peña, the rock on which the Franciscan monastery + stands; but was unable to obtain any fresh information about Father Martin + and his friars. The people with whom he talked were not disposed to + unbosom themselves, and he preferred not to insist, so as not to be + suspected. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards he went down to Cidones again and returned to Castro Duro. + Cæsar was still in bed. Alzugaray went into his room. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you intend to get up?” he asked him. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you intend to eat, either?” + </p> + <p> + “Neither.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sick?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you? Laziness?” + </p> + <p> + “Something like that.” + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray ate alone, and after he had had coffee, he directed his steps to + the bookstore of the Republican councilman, of whom Cæsar had spoken to + him. He found it in a corner of the Square; and it was at the same time a + stationer’s shop and a newsdealer’s. Behind the counter were an old man + and a lad. + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray went in. He bought various Madrid periodicals from the lad, and + then addressing the old man, asked him: + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you some sort of a map of the province, or of the neighbourhood + of Castro Duro?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, there isn’t one.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor a guidebook, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + “Nor that either. At the townhall we have a map of the town....” + </p> + <p> + “Only of the part built up?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it would do me no good.” + </p> + <p> + “You want a map for making excursions, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s it. Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there is none. We are very much behind the times.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s true. It wouldn’t cost very much, and it would be useful for + ever, both to the people here and to strangers.” + </p> + <p> + “Just tell that to our town government!” exclaimed the old bookseller. + “Whatever is not for the advantage of the rich and the clerical element, + there is no hope of.” + </p> + <p> + “Those gentlemen have a great deal of influence here?” asked Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “Uf! Enormous. More every day.” + </p> + <p> + “But there don’t appear to be many convents.” + </p> + <p> + “No, there are not many convents; but there is one that counts for a + hundred, and that is the one at Cidones.” + </p> + <p> + “Why is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Because it has a wild beast for a prior. Father Martín Lafuerza. He is + famous all through this region. And he is a man of talent, there’s no + denying it, but despotic and exigent. He is into everything, catechizes + the women, dominates the men. There is no way to fight against him. Here + am I with this bookshop, and I have my pension as a lieutenant, which + gives me enough to live very meanly, and with what little I get out of the + periodicals I scrape along. Besides, I am a Republican and very liberal, + and I like propaganda. If I didn’t, I should have left all this long ago, + because they have waged war to the death on me, an infamous sort of war + which a person that lives in Madrid cannot understand; calumnies that come + from no one knows where, atrocious accusations, everything....” + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray stared at the bookseller’s grey eyes, which were extraordinarily + bright. The old man was tall, stooped, grizzled, with a prominent nose and + a beard trimmed to a point. + </p> + <p> + “But you have stuck firmly to your post,” said Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “Having been a soldier must do something for a man,” replied the + bookseller. “He learns not to draw back in the face of danger. And this is + my life. Now I am a councillor and I work at the town hall as much as I + can, even though I know I shall accomplish nothing. Grafting goes on + before my face, I know it exists, and yet it is impossible to find it. Six + months ago I informed the judge of irregularities committed in a Sisters’ + Asylum, things I had proof of.... The judge laid my information on the + table, and things went on as if nothing had happened.” + </p> + <p> + “Spain is in a bad way. It is a pity!” exclaimed Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “You people in Madrid, and I don’t say this to irritate you, do not + understand what goes on in the small towns.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear man, I have never taken any part in political affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think that everybody ought to take part in politics, because it + is for the general interest.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment two persons entered the bookshop. Alzugaray was going to + leave, but the bookseller said to him: + </p> + <p> + “If you have nothing to do, sit down for a while.” + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray sat down and examined the new arrivals. One of them was a skinny + man, with bushy hair and whiskers; the other was a smooth-shaven party, + short, cross-eyed, dressed in copper-coloured cloth edged with broad black + braid. + </p> + <p> + “<i>The Rebel</i> hasn’t come?” asked the whiskered one. + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the bookseller. “It didn’t come out this week.” + </p> + <p> + “They must have reported it,” said the whiskered one. “Yes, probably.” + </p> + <p> + “Has the doctor been in?” the shaven, little man with the black braid + asked in his turn. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Let’s go see if we can find him in the club. Salutations!” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are those rascals?” asked Alzugaray, when they had gone out. + </p> + <p> + “They are two anarchists that we have here, who accuse me of being a + bourgeois... ha... ha.... The shaven one is the son of the landlady of an + inn who is called Furibis, and they call him that too. He used to be a + Federalist. They call the other one ‘Whiskers,’ and he came here from + Linares, not long ago.” + </p> + <p> + “What do they do?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. They sit in the club chatting, and nowadays the doctor we have + here runs with them, Dr. Ortigosa, who is half mad. He will be in soon. + Then you will see a type. He is a very bad-tempered man, and is always + looking for an excuse to quarrel. But above all, he is an enemy of + religion. He never says Good-bye, but Salutations or Farewell. In the same + way, he doesn’t say Holy Week, but Clerical Week. His great pleasure is to + find a temperament of a fibre like his own; then his eyes flash and he + begins to swear. And if he is hit, he stands for it.” + </p> + <p> + “He is an anarchist, too?” + </p> + <p> + “How do I know? He doesn’t know himself. Formerly, for four or five + months, he got out a weekly paper named <i>The Protest</i>, and sometimes + he wrote about the canalization of the river, and again about the + inhabitants of Mars.” + </p> + <p> + The bookseller and Alzugaray chatted about many other things, and after + some while the bookseller said: + </p> + <p> + “Here is Dr. Ortigosa. He is coming in.” + </p> + <p> + The door opened and a slim individual appeared, worn and sickly, with a + black beard and spectacles. His necktie was crooked, his suit dirty, and + he had his hat in his hand. He stared impertinently at Alzugaray, cast a + glance at a newspaper, and set to shouting and talking ill of everything. + </p> + <p> + “This is a town full of dumb beasts,” he said from time to time, with the + energy of exasperation. + </p> + <p> + Then, supposing Alzugaray to come from Madrid, he started to speak ill of + the Madrileños. + </p> + <p> + “They are a collection of fools,” he said roundly, various times. “They + know nothing, they understand nothing, and still they talk authoritatively + about everything.” + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray put up with the downpour as if it had no reference to him, + looking over a newspaper; and when the doctor was in the thick of his + discourse, Alzugaray got up, shook hands with the bookseller, thanked him, + and left the shop. + </p> + <p> + The doctor looked at him over his glasses with fury, and began to walk up + and down in the bookstore. + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray went to the hotel, arranging in his memory the data collected. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was feeling well, and the two of them talked of the bookseller and + his friends and of Father Martin Lafuerza. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to jot down all these points,” said Cæsar. “It wouldn’t be a + bad idea for you to go on cultivating the bookseller.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to.” + </p> + <p> + “Tomorrow, you know,” said Cæsar. “Grand dinner at Don Calixto’s. The + practical manoeuvres begin.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. THE BANQUET + </h2> + <h3> + THE GUESTS + </h3> + <p> + The table had been set in that wonderful gallery of the ancient palace of + the Dukes of Castro Duro, which looked out over the garden. The early + autumn weather was of enchanting softness and sweetness. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar and Alzugaray were very smart and elegant, with creases in their + trousers: Cæsar dressed in black, with the ceremonious aspect that suits a + grave man; Alzugaray in a light suit with a coloured handkerchief in his + breast pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I think we are ‘gentlemen’ today,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “It seems so to me.” + </p> + <p> + They entered the house and were ushered into the drawing-room. The + majority of the guests were already there; the proper introductions and + bows took place. Cæsar stayed in the group of men, who remained standing, + and Alzugaray went over to enter the sphere of Don Calixto’s wife and the + judge’s wife. + </p> + <p> + The judge, from the first moment, treated Cæsar like a man of importance, + and began to call him Don Cæsar every moment, and to find everything he + said, good. + </p> + <p> + In the ladies’ group there was an old priest, a tall, big, deaf man, a + great friend of the family, named Don Ramón. + </p> + <p> + The judge’s wife told Alzugaray that this Don Ramón was a simpleton. + </p> + <p> + He was the pastor of a very rich hermitage nearby, the hermitage of la + Vega, and he had spent all the money he had got by an inheritance, in + fixing up the church. + </p> + <p> + The poor man was childlike and sweet. He said various times that he had + many cloaks for the Virgin in the sacristy of his church, and that he + wished they could be given to poor parishes, because two or three were + enough in his. + </p> + <p> + AMPARITO + </p> + <p> + While they were talking an automobile horn was heard, and a little later + Don Calixto’s niece entered the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + This was Amparito, the flat-faced girl with black eyes, of whom Cæsar had + spoken to Alzugaray. Her father accompanied her. + </p> + <p> + The priest patted the girl’s cheeks. + </p> + <p> + Her father was a clumsy man, red, sunburned, with the face of a contractor + or a miner. + </p> + <p> + The girl took off her cap and the veil she wore in the automobile, and + seated herself between Don Calixto’s daughters. Alzugaray looked her over. + Amparito really was attractive; she had a short nose, bright black eyes, + red lips too thick, white teeth, and smooth cheeks. She wore her hair + down, in ringlets; but in spite of her infantile get-up, one saw that she + was already a woman. + </p> + <p> + “Cæsar is right; this is quite a lively girl,” murmured Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + The mayor’s son now arrived, and his sister. He was an insignificant + little gentleman, mild and courteous; he had studied law at Salamanca, and + it seemed that he had certain intentions about Don Calixto’s second + daughter. + </p> + <p> + All the guests being assembled, the master of the house said that, since + nobody was missing and it was time, they might pass into the gallery, + where the table was set. + </p> + <p> + At one end the lady of the house seated herself, having the priest on one + side and the judge on the other; at the other end, Don Calixto, between + the judge’s wife and the mayor’s daughter. Cæsar had a seat assigned + between Don Calixto’s elder daughter and Amparito, and Alzugaray one + between the second daughter and the judge’s girl. + </p> + <p> + A few moments before they sat down, Amparito went running out of the + gallery into the garden. “Where has that child gone?” asked Don Calixto’s + wife. + </p> + <p> + “Something or other has occurred to her,” said Amparito’s father, + laughing. + </p> + <p> + The girl reappeared a little later with a number of yellow and red + chrysanthemums in her hand. + </p> + <p> + She gave red ones to the mayor’s daughter and to her cousins, who were all + three brunettes, and a yellow one to the judge’s daughter, who was blond. + Then she proceeded to the men. + </p> + <p> + “This one is for you,” to the mayor’s son; “this one for you,” and she + gave Alzugaray a yellow one; “this one for you,” and she gave Cæsar a red + one; “and this one for me,” and she put a similar flower in her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “And the rest of us?” asked Don Calixto. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t give you chrysanthemums, because your wives would be jealous,” + replied Amparito. + </p> + <p> + “Man, man!” exclaimed the judge; “how does it strike you, Don Calixto? + That these little girls know the human heart pretty well?” + </p> + <p> + “These children do not know how to appreciate our merits,” said Don + Calixto. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; your merits are for your wives,” replied Amparito. + </p> + <p> + “I must inform you that my friend Cæsar is married, too,” said Alzugaray, + laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” she exclaimed, smiling and showing her white, strong teeth. “He + hasn’t the face of a married man.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he has got the face of a married man. Look at him hard.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; as his wife isn’t here, she won’t quarrel with me.” + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray examined this girl. She had great vivacity; any idea that + occurred to her was reflected in her face in a manner so lively and + charming, that she was an interesting spectacle to watch. + </p> + <p> + At first the conversation was of a languid and weary character; Don + Calixto, the judge, and Cæsar started in to exchange political reflexions + of crass vulgarity. Cæsar was gallantly attentive to the wants of Don + Calixto’s elder daughter, and less gallantly so to his other neighbour + Amparito; the mayor’s son, despite the fact that his official mission was + to court one of Don Calixto’s girls, looked more at Amparito than at his + intended, and Alzugaray listened smilingly to the young person’s sallies. + </p> + <p> + Toward the middle of the meal the conversation grew brisker; the judge + recounted, with much art, a mysterious crime that had occurred in a town + in Andalusia among farming people, and he succeeded in keeping them all + hanging to his lips. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the recital, the conversation became general; the younger + element talked together, and Cæsar made comments about what the judge had + told them, and defended the most immoral and absurd conclusions, as though + they were Conservative ideas. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar’s observations were discussed by the men, and the judge and Don + Calixto agreed that Cæsar was a man of real talent, who would play a great + role in Congress. + </p> + <p> + “Please give me a little wine,” said Amparito, holding her glass to + Alzugaray; “your friend pays no attention to me; I have asked him for some + wine twice, and nothing doing.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar acted as if he hadn’t heard and kept on talking. + </p> + <p> + Amparito took the glass, wet her lips in it, and looked at Alzugaray + maliciously. + </p> + <p> + After eating and having coffee, as the two married ladies and the girls + were inert from so long a meal, they arose, and Alzugaray, the mayor’s + son, and Amparito’s father followed them. Don Calixto, the judge, and + Cæsar remained at table. The priest had gone to sleep. + </p> + <p> + A bottle of chartreuse was brought, and they started in drinking and + smoking. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar’s throat grew dry and he became nauseated from drinking, smoking, + and talking. + </p> + <p> + At five the judge took his leave, because he had to glance in at court; + Don Calixto wanted to take his nap, and after he had escorted Cæsar to the + garden, he went away. The two married ladies were alone, because the young + people had gone with Amparito’s father on an excursion to the Devil’s + Threshold, a defile where the river flows between some red precipitous + rocks full of clefts. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar joined the two ladies, and kept up a monotonous, dreary conversation + about the ways of the great city. + </p> + <p> + At twilight all the excursionists came back from their jaunt. One of the + young ladies played something very noisy on the piano, and the judge’s + daughter was besought to recite one of Campoamor’s poems. + </p> + <p> + “It is a very pretty thing,” said the judge’s wife, “a girl who laments + because her lover abandons her.” + </p> + <p> + “Given the customs of Spain, as they are, the girl would be in a house of + prostitution,” said Cæsar in a low tone, ironically. + </p> + <p> + “Shut up,” replied Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + The girl recited the poem, and Cæsar asked Alzugaray sarcastically if + those verses were by the girl’s father, because they sounded to him like + the verses of a notary or a judge of the Court of First Instance. + </p> + <p> + Then somebody suggested that they should have supper there. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar noticed that this plan did not appeal to the mistress of the house, + and he said: + </p> + <p> + “One should be moderate in all things. I am going home to bed.” + </p> + <p> + After this somewhat pedantic phrase, which to Don Calixto seemed a pearl, + Cæsar took leave of his new acquaintances with a great deal of ceremony + and coolness. Alzugaray said he would remain a while longer. + </p> + <p> + When Cæsar was bowing to Amparito, she asked him jokingly: + </p> + <p> + “Is it your wife that keeps you in such good habits?” + </p> + <p> + “My wife!” exclaimed Cæsar, surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t your friend say...” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Yes, it is she who makes me have such good habits.” + </p> + <p> + This said, he left the drawing-room and went quickly down the stairs. The + cool night air made him shiver, and he went with a heavy, aching head to + his hotel, and got to bed. He slept very profoundly, but not for more than + an hour, and woke up sweaty and thirsty. His headache was gone. It was not + yet past eleven. He lighted the light, and sitting up in bed, set to + thinking over the probabilities of success in his undertaking. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile he stared at the red chrysanthemum which was in the button-hole + of his coat, and remembered Amparito. + </p> + <p> + “That child is a prodigy of coquetry and bad bringing-up,” he thought with + vexation; “these emancipated small town young ladies are more unattractive + than any others. I prefer Don Calixto’s daughter, who at least is naively + and unobjectionably stupid. But this other one is unsupportable.” + </p> + <p> + Without knowing why, he felt more antipathy for the girl than was natural + under the circumstances. He did not like to admit it to himself; but he + felt the hostility which is produced in strong, self-willed characters by + the presence of another person with a strong character proposing to exert + itself. + </p> + <p> + THE TWO FRIENDS’ COMMENTS + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was thinking over the details of the visit, when Alzugaray came + home, and seeing a light in Cæsar’s room, went in there. Alzugaray was + quite lively. The two friends passed the persons met that day in ironic + review, and in general they were agreed about everything, except about + valuing Amparito’s character. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar found her distasteful, pert and impertinent; to his friend, on the + contrary, she had seemed very attractive, very amiable and very clever. + </p> + <p> + “To me,” said Cæsar, “she appears one of these small town lasses who have + a flirtation with a student, then with a captain, and finally marry some + rich brute, and get fat, and turn into old sows, and grow moustaches.” + </p> + <p> + “In that I think you are fundamentally unjust,” said Alzugaray. “Amparito + is not a small town lass, for she lives in Madrid almost all year. + Besides, that makes no difference; what I have not observed is her + committing any folly or impertinence.” “Dear man, it all depends on how + you look at it. To me her conduct seemed bad, to you it seems all right.” + </p> + <p> + “You are an extremist, for I can assure you that you were actually rude to + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Actually rude, I don’t think; but I admit that I was cool and not very + amiable.” + </p> + <p> + “And why were you?” + </p> + <p> + “First, because it is politic of me, since Don Calixto’s family do not + care for Amparito; and secondly, because the little creature didn’t please + me, either.” + </p> + <p> + “And why didn’t she please you? For no reason at all?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not partial to the platyrrhine races.” + </p> + <p> + “What nonsense! And you wish to look at things clearly! A man that judges + people by their noses!” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to you little to go on? A brunette girl, brachicephalic and + rather platyrrhine.... There is no more to say.” + </p> + <p> + “And if she had been blond, dolichocephalic, and long-nosed, she would + have seemed all right to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Her ethnic type would have seemed all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s not discuss it. What’s the use? But I feel that you are arbitrary + to an extreme.” + </p> + <p> + “If she knew of our discussion, the young thing couldn’t complain, because + if she has had a systematic detractor in me, she has found an enthusiastic + defender in you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear man; it is only at such long intervals that I see a person with + ingenuousness and enthusiasm, that when I do meet one, I get a real joy + from it.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a sentimentalist.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true; and you have become an inquisitor.” + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly. I believe we agree on that and on all the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “I think so. All right. Good-bye!” said Alzugaray, ill-humouredly. + </p> + <p> + “Salutations!” replied Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. UNCLE CHINAMAN + </h2> + <h3> + CIDONES + </h3> + <p> + Cæsar impatiently awaited Señor Peribáñez’s reply, so that he might return + to Madrid. He was fed up with Don Calixto’s conversation and his wife’s, + and with the familiarity they had established with him. + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray, on the other hand, was entertained and content. Amparito’s + father showed a great liking for him and took him everywhere in his + automobile. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, in order to satisfy his requirements for isolation, had begun to + get up very early and take walks on the highway. He almost always walked + too far, and was done up for the whole day, and at first he slept badly at + night. + </p> + <p> + He wanted to see, one by one, the parts of his future realm, the scene + where his initiative was to bear seed and his plans to be realized. + </p> + <p> + A lot of ideas occurred to him: to build a bridge here, to take advantage + there of the fall of the river and establish a big electric plant for + industrial purposes. He would have liked to change everything he saw, in + an instant. + </p> + <p> + To think of these sleeping forces irritated him: the waterfall, lost + without leaving its energy anywhere; the ravine, which might be + transformed into an irrigation reservoir; the river, which was flowing + gently without fertilizing the fields; the land around the hermitage, + which might have been converted into a park, with a bright, gay + schoolhouse; all these things that could be done and were not done, seemed + to him more real than the people with whom he talked and lived. + </p> + <p> + One morning Cæsar walked to Cidones; the sun shone strongly on the + highway, and he reached the town choked and thirsty. + </p> + <p> + The streets of Cidones were so narrow, so cold and damp, that Cæsar + shivered on entering the first one, and he turned back, and instead of + going inside that polypus of dark clefts, he walked around it by the road. + On a small house with an arbour, which was on a corner, he saw a sign + saying: ‘Café Español’; and went in. + </p> + <p> + THE CAFÉ ESPAÑOL. The café was dark and completely empty, but at one end + there was a balcony where the sun entered. Cæsar crossed the café and sat + down near the balcony. + </p> + <p> + He called several times, and clapped his hands, and a girl appeared. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Something to drink. A bottle of beer.” + </p> + <p> + “I will call Uncle Chinaman.” + </p> + <p> + The girl went out, and soon after a thick, chubby man came in, with a + bottle of beer in his hand, the label of which he showed to Cæsar, asking + him if that was what he wanted. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; that will do very well.” + </p> + <p> + The man opened the bottle with his corkscrew, put it on the table, and as + he seemed to have a desire to enter into conversation, Cæsar asked him: + </p> + <p> + “Why did the girl tell me that Uncle Chinaman would come? Who is the + Chinaman?” + </p> + <p> + “The Chinaman, or Uncle Chinaman, as you like; I am.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear man!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we all have nicknames here. They called my father that, and they + call me that. Psh! It makes no difference. Because if a person is cross + about it, it’s all the worse. A few days ago a muleteer from a town in the + district arrived here, and went to the inn, and as he had no nickname and + they are very fond here in Cidones of giving one to every living creature, + they said to him: ‘No matter how short a while you stay here, you will be + given a nickname’; and he answered contemptuously: ‘Bah! Little fear.’ + Soon after, as he was crossing the square, a girl said to him: ‘Good-bye, + Little Fear!’ and Little Fear it remained.” + </p> + <p> + As Uncle Chinaman seemed very communicative, Cæsar asked him some + questions about life in the town. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Chinaman talked a great deal and with great clearness. According to + him, the cause of all trouble in the town was cowardice. The two or three + bosses of Castro and Father Martin ruled their party arbitrarily, and the + rest of the people didn’t dare breathe. + </p> + <p> + The poor didn’t understand that by being united they could offset the + influence of the rich, and even succeed in dominating them. Besides, fear + didn’t permit them to move. + </p> + <p> + “But fear of what?” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Fear of everything; fear that they will levy a tax, that they won’t + provide work, that they will take your son for a soldier, that they will + put you in jail for something or other, that the two or three bullies who + are in the bosses’ service might beat you.” + </p> + <p> + “Does their tyranny go as far as that?” + </p> + <p> + “They do whatever they choose.” + </p> + <p> + The Chinaman, who looked more like a Tartar, could make himself quite + clear. If it had not been that he used the wrong words and had an itch for + unusual ones, he would have given the impression of being a most + intelligent man. + </p> + <p> + He said he was anti-clerical, declared himself a pantheist, and spoke of + the “controversories” he maintained with different persons. + </p> + <p> + “A relative of mine who is a monk,” he said, “is always reprehending me, + and saying: ‘Lucas, you are a Free-Thinker.’... ‘And it’s greatly to my + credit,’ I tell him.” + </p> + <p> + Then, apropos of his monkish relative, he told a scandalous story. A niece + of the Chinaman’s, who had served for some while in the café, had gone to + live with this monk. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Chinaman’s account of it was rather grotesque. + </p> + <p> + “I had a niece,” he said, “in the house, you know, very spruce, very + good-looking, with breasts as hard as a rock. My wife loved her as + ‘muchly’ as if she had been our daughter, and so did I. Suddenly we heard + the poor child had made a false step... or two false steps... and a little + while later the girl was in a bad condition. Well, then; she went to town, + and came back here to the café, and again we heard that the poor child had + made a false step... or two false steps; and as I have daughters, you + know, this ‘pro... missiousness’ didn’t please me, and I went and told + her: ‘Look here, Maria, this isn’t right at all, and what you ought to do + is get out.’ She understood me, and went away, and went to her uncle the + monk, and the two of them formed a ‘cohabit.’... Curse her! I went after + them; and if I ever find them, I’ll kill them. All very well for the poor + child to make a false step... or two false steps; but this thing of + getting into a ‘cohabit’ with a monk, and he her uncle, that is a + ‘hulimination’ for the family. You may believe that we had to empty the + cup down to the ‘drugs.’” + </p> + <p> + FATHER MARTIN + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was listening to Uncle Chinaman with joy, when he saw two friars + passing along the road below the balcony. + </p> + <p> + “They are from the monastery of la Peña, I suppose,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The Chinaman looked out and replied: + </p> + <p> + “One of them is the prior, Father Lafuerza. The other is an intriguing + young chap who has been here only a short while.” + </p> + <p> + “Man, I have to see them,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “They are coming up the street now.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Chinaman and Cæsar went to the other end of the café, and waited for + them to pass. + </p> + <p> + The younger of the two friars had an air of mock humility, and was + weakly-looking, with a straggling yellowish beard and a crafty expression; + Father Martin, on the contrary, looked like a pasha parading through his + dominions. He was tall, stout, of an imposing aspect, with a grizzly blond + beard, blue eyes, and a straight, well-shaped nose. + </p> + <p> + The two friars came up the narrow, steep street, stopping to talk to the + women that were sewing and embroidering in the arcades. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar and the Chinaman followed them with their eyes until the two friars + turned a corner. Then Cæsar left the café and walked back to Castro Duro. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. A TRYING SCENE + </h2> + <p> + Don Platón Peribáñez’s reply was delayed longer than he had promised. No + one knew whether the Duke of Castro Duro would get married or not get + married, whether he would come out of prison or stay in. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had nothing for it but to wait, although he was already fed up with + his stay. Alzugaray had a good time; he visited the surrounding towns in + the company of Amparito and her father. Cæsar, on the other hand, began to + be bored. Accustomed to live with the independence of a savage, the social + train of a town like Castro irritated him. + </p> + <p> + His good opinion of people was in direct ratio to the indifference they + felt for him. Amparito’s father was one of those who showed most + antipathy. Sometimes he invited him to go motoring, but only for + politeness. Cæsar used to reply to these invitations with a courteous + refusal. + </p> + <p> + Amparito, who was doubtless accustomed to seeing everybody in town + fluttering about her, was wounded at this indifference and took every + chance to see Cæsar, and then shot her wit at him and was sharply + impertinent. + </p> + <p> + The young creature was more intelligent than she had at first appeared and + she spoke very plainly. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar could not permit a young girl to make fun of him and combat his + ideas for her own amusement. + </p> + <p> + “Let’s see, Moneada,” Amparito said to him one day in the gallery at Don + Calixto’s. “What are your political plans?” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn’t understand them,” replied Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Why not? Do you think I am so stupid?” + </p> + <p> + “No. It is merely that politics are not a matter for children.” “Ah! But + how old do you think I am?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “You must be twelve or thirteen.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a malicious joker, Señor Moncada, You know that I am almost + seventeen.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t. How should I know it?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I told your friend Alzugaray....” + </p> + <p> + “All right, but I don’t ask my friend what you have told him.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t interest you? Very good. You are very polite. But your + politics do interest me. Come on, tell me. What reforms do you intend to + make in the town? What improvements are you going to give the inhabitants? + For I warn you, Señor Moncada, that they are all going to vote against you + otherwise, I will tell my father.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe his political interest is so keen.” + </p> + <p> + “It is keen enough, and my father will do what I tell him. My father says + that you are ambitious.” + </p> + <p> + “If I were, I should make love to you, because you are rich.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you suppose I would respond?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, but I should try it, as others do; and you can see that I + don’t try.” + </p> + <p> + Amparito bit her lips and said ironically: + </p> + <p> + “Are you reserving yourself for my cousin Adelaida?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not reserving myself for anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “We couldn’t say that you are very amiable.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true. I never have been.” + </p> + <p> + “If you keep on like that when you are a Deputy....” + </p> + <p> + “What difference is it to you whether I am a Deputy or not? Is it because + you have some beau who wants the place? If it is, tell me. I will withdraw + in his favour. You must see that I can do no more,” said Cæsar jokingly. + </p> + <p> + “And how you would hate me then; if you had to give up being a Deputy on + my account!” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “You hate me already.” + </p> + <p> + “No. You are mistaken.” “Yes. I believe if you could, you would strike + me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, the most I should do would be to shut you up in a dark room.” + </p> + <p> + “You are an odious, antipathetic man. I thought I rather liked you, but I + only hate you.” + </p> + <p> + “You know already, Amparito, that I am a candidate for Deputy, but not one + for you.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. All right. I don’t wish to hear any more stupid remarks.” + </p> + <p> + “The stupid remarks are those you are making.” + </p> + <p> + And Cæsar, who was beginning to feel angry, rebuked Amparito too severely, + for her coquetry, her bad intentions, and her desire to humiliate and + mortify people without any reason. + </p> + <p> + Amparito listened to him, pale and panting. + </p> + <p> + “And after all,” said Cæsar, “all this is nothing to me. If I am in your + family’s way, or even in your way, I can go away from here, and all is + ended.” + </p> + <p> + “No, do not go away,” murmured Amparito, raising her handkerchief to her + eyes and beginning to weep bitterly. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar felt deeply grieved; all his anger disappeared, and he stood there, + amazed, and not knowing what to do. + </p> + <p> + “Do not cry,” exclaimed Cæsar; “what will they think of me? Come, don’t + cry. It is childish.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment Amparito’s father entered the gallery, and he came running + to the girl’s side. + </p> + <p> + “What have you done to my daughter?” he cried, approaching Cæsar + threateningly. + </p> + <p> + “I, nothing,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You have. What has he done to you?” screamed the father. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, Papa. Do not shriek that way, for God’s sake,” moaned Amparito; + “I was entirely to blame.” + </p> + <p> + “If he...” + </p> + <p> + “No, I tell you he hasn’t done anything to me.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, who had remained motionless in face of Amparito’s father’s + threatening attitude, turned on his heel, and went slowly out. THE ETERNAL + GAME OF DISDAIN + </p> + <p> + Cæsar went back to the hotel, thinking very hard. Alzugaray asked him what + the matter was, and Cæsar told his friend what had happened in the + gallery. On hearing the story Alzugaray assumed a look of deep desolation. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand what is the matter with the girl, for her to show such + antipathy for me,” Cæsar concluded. + </p> + <p> + “It is very simple,” said Alzugaray, sadly; “the girl is interested in + you. The eternal game of disdain has produced its effect. She has seen you + show yourself indifferent toward her, speak curtly to her, and she has + gone on thinking more and more about you, and now she thinks of nothing + else. That is what has happened.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! I don’t believe it. You act as if this were in a novel.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s no novel. It’s the truth.” + </p> + <p> + The next day, when Cæsar got up, the maid handed him two letters. One was + from Don Calixto and said that Señor Peribáñez accepted him as candidate. + It had been learned that the Duke of Castro Duro had married his landlady + in England; the arrangement with the Cuban gentleman was impossible, and + the poor Duke would definitely have to winter in Paris, in the prison, + along with the distinguished apaches, Bibi de Montmartre and the Panther + of the Batignolles. + </p> + <p> + The other letter was from Amparito. + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto’s niece told him he mustn’t believe that she hated him; if she + had said anything to him, it was without bad intention; she would be very + happy if all his projects were realized. + </p> + <p> + Despite his ambitious plans and the desire he had that the question of his + candidacy should be definitely settled, Amparito’s letter interested him + much more than Don Calixto’s. + </p> + <p> + A new, disturbing element was coming into his life, without any warning + and without any reason. He said nothing about Amparito’s letter to his + friend Alzugaray. He felt him to be a rival, and in spite of having no + intentions of going further, the idea of rivalry between them troubled + him. He did not wish to offend him by taking the attitude of a lucky man. + </p> + <p> + He went out into the street and set off for a walk on the highway. + </p> + <p> + “It is strange,” he thought, “this coarse psychology, which proves that a + man and a woman, especially a woman, are not complex beings, but stupidly + simple. The complex thing in a woman is not the intelligence or the soul, + but instinct. Why does a woman rebuff a man who pleases her? For the same + reason that the female animal repulses the male, and at the same time + calls him to her. + </p> + <p> + “And this instinctive love, this mixture of hatred and attraction, is the + curious thing, the enigmatic thing about human nature. The intellect of + each individual is, by contrast, so poor, so clear! + </p> + <p> + “This girl, rich and attractive, flattered by everybody, is bored in this + town. She sees a man that doesn’t pay attention to her, who is after + another goal, and simply for that reason she feels offended and hunts out + a way to mortify him, for her entertainment and for spite; and when she + finds that she doesn’t succeed, she gets to thinking about him all the + time. + </p> + <p> + “And this spite, this wounded vanity, is changed to an absorbing interest. + Why shouldn’t that absorbing interest be called love? Yes, she is in love, + and finds great satisfaction in thinking so. + </p> + <p> + “She is not an insignificant girl, daughter of a commonplace gentleman; to + herself, she is a romantic figure. She seems to be absorbed in another, + and what is really the case is that she is absorbed in herself. How + ridiculous this all is!... And this is life. Is the whole of life nothing, + in reality, but ridiculous?” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar returned home, and unknown to Alzugaray, wrote a letter to Amparito. + He put the letter into the box, and then went to call on Don Calixto, and + take leave of him. Don Calixto invited Cæsar and Alzugaray to dinner the + next day, and there were the same guests as the first time. + </p> + <p> + The dinner was cold and ceremonious. Amparito was grave, like a grown + person. Scarcely speaking, she replied with discreet smiles to Alzugaray’s + occasional phrases, but she was not in a humour to tease anybody. + </p> + <p> + The train started about the middle of the afternoon, and Don Calixto had + arranged to have the carriage got ready, and to accompany the travellers + to the station. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was uneasy, thinking of the leave-taking. The moment for saying + good-bye to Amparito and her father, it seemed to him, would be a + difficult moment. Nevertheless, everything went off smoothly. The father + offered his hand, without grudge. Amparito blushed a little and said: + </p> + <p> + “We shall see each other again, Moncada?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I’m sure of it,” replied Cæsar; and the two friends and Don Calixto + took the carriage for the station. + </p> + <p> + The two friends’ return trip to Madrid was scarcely agreeable. Alzugaray + was offended at Cæsar’s personal success with Amparito; Cæsar understood + his comrade’s mental attitude and didn’t know what to say or do. + </p> + <p> + To them both the journey seemed long and unpleasant, and when they reached + their destination, they were glad to separate. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. THE ELECTION + </h2> + <h3> + WHAT THEY SAID IN THE TOWNS + </h3> + <p> + A short while later the eventuality predicted by Cæsar occurred. The + Liberal ministry met a crisis, and after various intermediate attempts at + mixed cabinets, the Conservatives came into power. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had no need to insist with the Minister of the Interior. He was one + of the inevitable. He was pigeon-holed as an adherent, from the first + moment. + </p> + <p> + The Government had given out the decree for the dissolution of the Cortes + in February and was preparing for the General Election in the middle of + April. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar would have gone immediately to Castro Duro, but he feared that if he + showed interest it would complicate the situation. There were a lot of + elements there, whose attitude it was not easy to foresee; Don Platón’s + friends, Father Martin and his people, Amparito’s father, the friends of + the opposing candidate, Garcia Padilla. Cæsar thought it better that they + should consider him a young dandy with no further ambition than to give + himself airs, rather than a future master of the town. + </p> + <p> + He wrote to Don Calixto, and Don Calixto told him there was no hurry, + everything was in order; it would be sufficient for him to appear five or + six days before the election. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was impatient to begin his task, and it occurred to him that he + might visit the towns that made up the district, without saying anything + to anybody or making himself known. The excursion commenced at the + beginning of the month of April. He left the train at a station before + Castro. He bought a horse and went about through the towns. Nobody in the + villages knew that there was going to be an election; such things made no + difference to anybody. + </p> + <p> + After the inauguration of a new Government there was a little revolution + in each village, produced by the change of the town-council and by the + distribution of all the jobs that were municipal spoils, which passed from + the hands of those calling themselves Liberals to the hands of those + calling themselves Conservatives. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar discovered that besides the Liberal García Padilla, there was + another candidate, protected by Father Martin La-fuerza; but it looked as + if the Clericals were going to abandon him. In a town named Val de San + Gil, the schoolmaster explained to him, with some fantastic details, the + politics of Don Calixto. The schoolmaster was a Liberal and a frank, + brusque, intelligent man, but he formed his judgment of Don Calixto’s + politics on the prejudices of a Republican paper in Madrid, which was the + only one he read. + </p> + <p> + According to him, Señor Moncada, whom nobody knew, was nothing more than a + figure-head for the Jesuits. Father Martin Lafuerza was getting possession + of too much land in Castro, and wanted everything to belong to his + monastery. The Jesuits had learned of this and were sending young Moncada + to undo the Franciscan friar’s combinations and establish the reign of the + Loyolists. + </p> + <p> + In another place, named Villavieja, Cæsar found that the four or five + persons interested in Castrian politics were against him. It seemed that + the Conservative candidate they wanted was the one protected by Father + Martin, who had promised them results greatly to their advantage. + </p> + <p> + In general, the people in the towns were not up on politics; when Cæsar + asked them what they thought about the different questions that interest a + country, they shrugged their shoulders. + </p> + <p> + In the outlying hamlets they didn’t know either who the king was or what + his name was. + </p> + <p> + The only way in which the trip was of service to the future candidate was + by giving him an idea of how elections were carried on, by teaching him + who carried the returns to Don. Calixto, and showing him which of these + people could be warranted to be honourable and which were rascals. + </p> + <p> + INDIFFERENCE IN CASTRO + </p> + <p> + Three days before the election Cæsar appeared in Castro and went to stay + at Don Calixto’s house. Nobody knew about his expedition in the environs. + There were no preparations whatever. People said they were going to change + Deputies; but really this was of no great moment in the life of the town. + </p> + <p> + Saturday night the party committee met in the Casino at seven. Cæsar + arrived a few minutes early; no one was there. He was shown into a shabby + salon, lighted by an oil lamp. + </p> + <p> + It was cold in the room, and Cæsar walked about while he waited. On the + ceiling a complete canopy of spider-webs, like dusty silver, trembled in + every draught. + </p> + <p> + At half-past eight the first members of the committee arrived; the others + kept on coming lazily in. Each one had some pretext to excuse his being + late. + </p> + <p> + The fact was that the matter interested nobody; the politics of the + district were going to go on as formerly, and really it wasn’t worth while + thinking about. Cæsar was a decorative figure with no background. + </p> + <p> + At nine all the members of the committee were in the Casino. Don Calixto + made a speech which he prolonged in an alarming manner. Cæsar answered him + in another speech, which was heard with absolute coldness. + </p> + <p> + Then a frantic gabbling let loose; everybody wanted to talk. They + abandoned themselves fruitfully to distinctions. “If it is certain + that.... Although it is true.... Not so much because...” and they + eulogized one another as orators, with great gravity. + </p> + <p> + The next day, Sunday, the proclamation of the candidates took place. They + were three: Moncada, Governmental; Garcia Padilla, Liberal; and San Román, + Republican. + </p> + <p> + San Román was the old Republican bookseller; it was sure beforehand that + he couldn’t win, but it suited Cæsar that he should run, so that the + Workmen’s Club elements should not vote for the Liberal candidate. + </p> + <p> + Two days before the election Cæsar went to Cidones and entered the Café + Español. + </p> + <p> + He asked for Uncle Chinaman, and told him that he was the future Deputy. + Uncle Chinaman recognized the young man with whom he had talked some + months previous in his café, he remembered him with pleasure, and received + him with great demonstrations. + </p> + <p> + “Man,” Cæsar said to him, “I want you to do me a favour.” + </p> + <p> + “Only tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a question about the election.” + </p> + <p> + “Good. Let’s hear what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “There are several towns where Padilla’s adherents are ready, after the + count, to change the real returns for forged ones. Everything is prepared + for it. As I have sent people to their voting-places, they intend to make + the change on the road, taking the returns from the messengers and giving + them forged ones instead. I want twenty or thirty reliable men to send, + four by four, to accompany the messengers that come with the returns, or + else to carry them themselves.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, I will get them for you,” said Uncle Chinaman. + </p> + <p> + “How much money do you need?” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty dollars will do me.” + </p> + <p> + “Take forty.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Which towns are they?” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar told him the names of the towns where he feared substitution. Then + he warned him: + </p> + <p> + “You will say nothing about this.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar gave precise instructions to the landlord of the café, and on + bidding Uncle Chinaman good-bye, he told him: + </p> + <p> + “I know already that you are really on my side.” + </p> + <p> + “You believe so?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” On Sunday the elections began with absolute inanimation. In the + city the Republicans were getting the majority, especially in the suburbs. + Padilla was far behind. Nevertheless, it was said at the Casino that it + was possible Padilla would finally win the election, because he might have + an overwhelming majority in five or six rural wards. + </p> + <p> + At four in the afternoon the results in the city gave the victory to + Moncada. Next to him came San Román, and in the last place Padilla. + </p> + <p> + The returns began to come in from the villages. In all of them the results + were similar. It was found that the official element voted for the + Government candidate, and those who had been attached to the preceding + town-council for the Liberal. + </p> + <p> + At eight in the evening the returns arrived from the first village where + Padilla expected a victory. The messenger, surrounded by four men from + Cidones, was in a terrified condition. He handed over the returns and + left. The result was the same as in all the other rural districts. + </p> + <p> + In one village alone, the presiding officer had been able to evade the + vigilance of the guards sent by Cæsar and Uncle Chinaman, and change the + number of votes in the returns; but despite this, the election was won for + Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + The next day the exact result of the election was known. It stood: + </p> + <p> + Moncada, 3705. García Padilla, 1823. San Román, 750. + </p> + <p> + When it was known that Cæsar had played a trick on his enemies under their + noses, he came into great estimation. + </p> + <p> + The judge said: + </p> + <p> + “I believe you were all deceived. You supposed Don Cæsar to be a sucking + dove, and he is going to turn out to be a vulture for us.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar listened to felicitations and accepted congratulations smiling, and + some days later returned to Madrid. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. CÆSAR AS DEPUTY + </h2> + <h3> + TRIPPING THEM UP + </h3> + <p> + People who didn’t know Cæsar intimately used to ask one another: “What + purpose could Moncada have had in getting elected Deputy? He never speaks, + he takes no part in the big debates.” + </p> + <p> + His name appeared from time to time on some committee about Treasury + affairs; but that was all. + </p> + <p> + His life was completely veiled; he was not seen at first nights, or in + salons, or on the promenade; he was a man apparently forgotten, lost to + Madrid life. Sometimes on coming out of the Chamber he would see Amparito + in an automobile; she would look for him with her eyes, and smile; he + would take his hat off ostentatiously, with a low bow. + </p> + <p> + Among a very small number of persons Cæsar had the reputation of an + intelligent and dangerous man. They suspected him of great personal + ambition. It would not have been logical to think that this cold + unexpansive man was, in his heart, a patriot who felt Spain’s decadence + deeply and was seeking the means to revive her. + </p> + <p> + “No pleasures, no middle-class satisfactions,” he thought; “but to live + for a patriotic ideal, to shove Spain forward, and to form with the flesh + of one’s native land a great statue which should be her historic + monument.” + </p> + <p> + That was his plan. In Congress Cæsar kept silence; but he talked in the + corridors, and his ironic, cold, dispassionate comments began to be + quoted. + </p> + <p> + He had formed relations with the Minister of the Treasury, a man who + passed for famous and was a mediocrity, passed for honourable and was a + rogue. Cæsar was much in his company. + </p> + <p> + The famous financier realized that Moncada knew far more than he did about + monetary questions, and among his friends he admitted it; but he gave them + to understand that Cæsar was only a theorist, incapable of quick decision + and action. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar’s friendship was a convenience to the Minister, and the Minister’s + to Cæsar. In his heart the Minister hated Cæsar, and Cæsar felt a deep + contempt for the famous financier. + </p> + <p> + Nobody seeing them in a carriage talking affectionately together could + have imagined that there existed such an amount of hatred and hostility + between them. + </p> + <p> + The majority of people, with an absolute want of perspicacity, believed + Cæsar to be fascinated by the Minister’s brilliant intellect; but there + were persons that understood the situation of the pair and who used to + say: + </p> + <p> + “Moncada has an influence over the Minister like that of a priest over a + family.” + </p> + <p> + And there was some truth in it. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar carried his experimental method over from the stock exchange into + politics. He kept a note-book, in which he put down all data about the + private lives of Ministers and Deputies, and he filed these papers after + classifying them. + </p> + <p> + Castro Duro began to be aware of Cæsar’s exertions. The secretary of the + municipality, the employees, all who were friends and adherents to the + boss’s group that Don Platón belonged with, began by degrees to leave + Castro. + </p> + <p> + Those who had lost their jobs, and their protectors too, began to write + letters and more letters to the Deputy. At first they believed that Cæsar + wasn’t interested; but they were soon able to understand at Castro that he + was interested enough, but not in them. The Minister of the Treasury + served him as a battering-ram to use against the Clericals at Castro Duro. + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto was inwardly rejoiced to see his rivals reduced to impotency. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar began to establish political relations with the Republican + bookseller and his friends. When he began to perceive that he was making + headway with the Liberal and Labour element, he started without delay to + set mines under Don Calixto’s terrain. The judge, who was a friend of Don + Calixto’s, was transferred; so were some clerks of the court; and the + Count of la Sauceda, the famous boss, was soon able to realize that his + protégé was firing against him. + </p> + <p> + “I have nourished a serpent in my bosom,” said Don Calixto; “but I know + how I can grind its head.” + </p> + <p> + He could not have been very sure of his strength; for Don Calixto found + himself in a position where he had to beg for quarter. Cæsar conceded it, + on the understanding that Don Calixto would not take any more part in + Castro politics. + </p> + <p> + “You people had the power and you didn’t use it very well for the town. + Now just leave it to me.” + </p> + <p> + In exchange for Don Calixto’s surrender, Cæsar agreed to have his Papal + title legalized. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a year and a half Cæsar had all the bosses of Castro in his + fist. + </p> + <p> + “Suppressing the bosses in the district was easy,” Cæsar used to say; “I + managed to have one make all the others innocuous, and then I made that + one, who was Don Calixto, innocuous and gave him a title.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar did not forget or neglect the least detail. He listened to everybody + that talked to him, even though they had nothing but nonsense to say; he + always answered letters, and in his own handwriting. + </p> + <p> + With the townpeople he used the tactics of knowing all their names, + especially the old folks’, and for this purpose he carried a little + note-book. He wrote down, for example: “Señor Ramón, was in the Carlist + war; Uncle Juan, suffers with rheumatism.” + </p> + <p> + When, by means of his notes, he remembered these details, it produced an + extraordinary effect on people. Everybody considered himself the + favourite. + </p> + <p> + CÆSAR’S MANNER OF LIVING + </p> + <p> + Cæsar lived simply; he had a room in an hotel in the Carrera de San + Jerónimo, where he received calls; but nobody ever found him there except + in business hours. + </p> + <p> + He used to go now and then to Alzugaray’s house, where he would talk over + various matters with his friend’s mother and sister; he would find out + about everything, and go away after giving them advice on questions of + managing their money, which they almost always observed and followed. + </p> + <p> + Of all people, Ignacio Alzugaray was the most incredulous in regard to his + friend; his mother and his sister believed in Cæsar as in an oracle. Cæsar + often thought that he ought to fall definitely in love with Ignacio’s + sister and marry her; but neither he nor she seemed to have set upon + passing the limits of a cordial friendship. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar told the Alzugaray family how he lived and caused them to laugh and + wonder. + </p> + <p> + He had rented a fairly large upper story in a street in Valle Hermoso, for + five dollars. The days he had nothing to do he went there. He put on an + old, worn-out fur coat, which was still a protection, a soft hat, took a + stick, and went walking in the environs. + </p> + <p> + His favourite walk was the neighbourhood of the Canalillo and of the + Dehesa de Amaniel. + </p> + <p> + Generally he went out of his house on the side opposite the Model Prison, + then he walked toward Moncloa, and taking the right, passed near the Rubio + Institute, and entered the Cerro del Pimiento by an open lot which he got + into through a broken wall. + </p> + <p> + From there one could see, far away, the Guadarrama range, like a curtain + of blue mountains and snowy crests; on clear days, the Escorial; Aravaca, + the Casa de Campo, and the Sierra de Gredos, which ran out on the left + hand like a promontory. Nearby one saw a pine grove, close to the Rubio + Institute, and a valley containing market-gardens, and the ranges of the + Moncloa shooting school. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar would walk on by the winding road, and stop to look at the Cemetery + of San Martín on the right, with its black cypresses and its yellowish + walls. + </p> + <p> + Then he would follow the twists of the Canalillo, and pass in front of the + third Reservoir, to the Amaniel road. + </p> + <p> + That was where Cæsar would have built himself a house, had he had the idea + of living retired. + </p> + <p> + The dry, hard landscape was the kind he liked. The mornings were + wonderful, the blue sky radiant, the air limpid and thin. + </p> + <p> + The twilight had an extraordinary enchantment. All that vast extent of + land, the mountains, the hills of the Casa de Campo, the cypresses of the + cemetery, were bathed in a violet light. + </p> + <p> + In winter there were hunters of yellow-hammers and goldfinches in these + regions, who set their nets and their decoys on the ground, and spent + hours and hours watching for their game. + </p> + <p> + On Sunday, in particular, the number of hunters was very large. They went + in squads of three; one carried a big bundle on his shoulder, which was + the net all rolled up; another the decoy cages, fastened with a strap; and + the third a frying-pan, a skin of wine, and some kindling for a fire. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar used to talk with the guards at Amaniel, with the octroi-officers, + and he got to be great friends with a little hunchback, a bird hunter. + </p> + <p> + It was curious to hear this hunchback talk of the habits of the birds and + of the influence of the winds. He knew how the gold-finches, + yellow-hammers, and linnets make their nests, and the preference some of + them have for coltsfoot cotton, and others for wool or for cow’s hair. He + told Cæsar a lot of things, many of which could have existed only in his + imagination, but which were entertaining. + </p> + <p> + ONE DAY AT CHRISTMASTIME + </p> + <p> + One day at Christmastime Alzugaray went in the morning to look for Cæsar. + He knew where to find him and walked direct to the Calle de Galileo. At + the house, they told him that Cæsar was eating in a tavern close at hand. + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray went into the place and found his friend the Deputy seated in a + coner eating. He had the appearance of a superior workman, an electrician, + carver, or something of the sort. + </p> + <p> + “If people find out you behave so extravagantly, they will think you are + crazy,” said Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! Nobody comes here,” replied Cæsar. “The political world and this + are separate worlds. This one belongs to the people who have to shoulder + the load of everything, and the other is a world of villains, robbers, + idiots, and fools. Really, it is difficult to find anything so vile, so + inept, and so useless as a Spanish politician. The Spanish middle class is + a warren of rogues and villains. I feel an enormous repugnance to brushing + against it. That is why I came here now and then to talk to these people; + not because these are good, no; the first and the last of them are + riff-raff, but at least they say what they mean and they blaspheme + naïvely.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do after lunch?” Alzugaray asked him. “Have you got + a sweetheart in one of the old-clothes shops of the quarter?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I was thinking of taking a walk; that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + “Then come along.” + </p> + <p> + They left the tavern and went along a street between sides of sand cut + straight down, and started up the Cerro del Pimiento. The soft, vague mist + allowed the Guadarrama to stand out visible. + </p> + <p> + “This landscape enchants me,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “It seems hard and gloomy,” responded Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is true; hard and gloomy, but noble. When one is drenched with + a miserable political life, when one actually forms a part of that Olympus + of madmen called Congress, one needs to be purified. How miserable, how + vile that political life is! How many faces pale with envy there are! What + low and repugnant hatreds! When I come out nauseated by seeing those + people; when I am soaked with repugnance, then I come out here to walk, I + look at those serious mountains, so frowning and strong, and the mere + sight of them seems like a purifying flame which cleanses me from + meanness.” + </p> + <p> + “I see that you are as absurd as ever, Cæsar. It would never occur to + anybody to come and comfort himself with some melancholy mountains, out + here between an abandoned hospital, which looks like a leper-asylum, and a + deserted cemetery.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, these mountains give me an impression of energy and nobility, which + raises my spirits. This leper-asylum, as you call it, sunken in a pit, + this deserted cemetery, those distant mountains, are my friends; I imagine + they are saying to me: ‘One must be hard, one must be strong like us, one + must live in solitude....’” + </p> + <p> + They did not continue their walk much further, because the night and the + fog combined made it difficult to see the path along the Canalillo, which + made it possible to fall in, and that would have been disagreeable. + </p> + <p> + They returned the way they had come. From the top of a hill they saw + Madrid in the twilight, covered with fog; and in the streets newly opened + between the sides of sand, the lights of the gas-lamps sparkled in a + nimbus of rainbow.... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. POLITICAL LABOURS + </h2> + <h3> + MONEY ON THE EXCHANGE + </h3> + <p> + Although Cæsar did not distinguish himself especially in Congress, he + worked hard. His activities were devoted mainly to two points: the stock + exchange and Castro Duro. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had found a partner to play the market for him, a Bilboan + capitalist, whom he had convinced of the correctness of his system. Señor + Salazar had deposited, in Cæsar’s name, thirty thousand dollars. With this + sum Cæsar played for millions and he was drawing an extraordinary dividend + from his stocks. + </p> + <p> + Their operations were made in the name of Alzugaray, whose job it was to + go every month to see the broker, and to sign and collect the + certificates. Cæsar gave his orders by telephone, and Alzugaray + communicated them to the broker. + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray often went to see Cæsar and said to him: + </p> + <p> + “The broker came to my house terrified, to tell me that what we are going + to do is an absurdity.” + </p> + <p> + “Let it alone,” Cæsar would say. “You know our agreement. You get ten + percent of the profits for giving the orders. Do not mix in any further.” + </p> + <p> + Often, on seeing the positive result of Cæsar’s speculations, Alzugaray + would ask him: + </p> + <p> + “Do you find out at the Ministry what is going to happen?” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” Cæsar would say; “the market is not a capricious thing, as you + think. There are signs. I pay attention to a lot of facts, which give me + indications: coupons, the amount shares advance, the calculation of + probabilities; and I compare all these scientific data with empirical + observations that are difficult to explain. In such a situation, events + are what make the least difference to me. Is there going to be a + revolution or a Carlist war?... I am careless about it.” + </p> + <p> + “But this is impossible,” Alzugaray used to say. “Excuse me for saying so, + but I don’t believe you. You have some secret, and that is what helps + you.” + </p> + <p> + “How fantastic you all are!”’ Cæsar would exclaim; “you refuse to believe + in the rational, and still you believe in the miraculous.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I do not believe in the miraculous; but I cannot explain your + methods.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s clear! Am I to explain them to you! When you don’t know the + mechanism of the market! I am certain that you have never considered the + mechanism of the rise produced by the reintegration of the coupon, or the + way that rise is limited to double its value. Tell me. Do you know what + that means?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, how are you to understand anything?” + </p> + <p> + “All right, then; explain it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s no difficulty. You know that the natural tendency of the market + is to rise.” + </p> + <p> + “To rise and to fall,” interrupted Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “No, only to rise.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see it.” + </p> + <p> + “The general tendency of the market is to rise, because having to fall + eighty <i>céntimos</i>, the value of the coupon, every quarter, if the + market didn’t rise to offset that loss, shares would reach zero....” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand,” said Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “Imagine a man on a stairway; if you oblige him to go down one step every + so often, in order to keep in the same place as before he will necessarily + have to go up again, because if he didn’t do so, he would be constantly + approaching the front door.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, surely.” “Well, this man on the stairway is the quotation, and the + mechanical task of constantly making up for the quarterly loss is what is + called the reintegration of the coupon.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not convince me.” + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray didn’t like listening to these explanations. He had formed an + opinion that had not much foundation, but he would not admit that Cæsar, + by reasoning, could arrive at the glimmering of an inductive and deductive + method, where others saw no more than chance. + </p> + <p> + CÆSAR BEGINS HIS TASK + </p> + <p> + With the money he made on the market, Cæsar was making himself the master + of Castro Duro. He constantly assumed a more Liberal attitude in the + Chamber, and was in a position to abandon the Conservative majority, on + any pretext. + </p> + <p> + His plan of campaign at Castro Duro corresponded to this political + position of his: he had rehabilitated the Workmen’s Club and paid its + debts. The Club had been founded by the workmen of a thread factory, now + shut. The number of members was very small and the labourers and employees + of the railway and some weavers were its principal support. + </p> + <p> + On learning that it was about to be closed for lack of funds, Cæsar + promised to support it. He thought of endowing the Club with a library, + and installing a school in the country. On seeing that the Deputy was + patronizing the Club, a lot of labourers of all kinds joined it. A new + governing board was named, of which Cæsar was honourary president, and the + Workmen’s Club re-arose from its ashes. The Republicans and the little + group of Socialists, almost all weavers, were on Cæsar’s side and promised + to vote for him in the coming election. + </p> + <p> + Various Republicans who went to Madrid to call on Cæsar, told him he ought + to come out as a Republican. They would vote for him with enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “No; why should I?” Cæsar used to answer. “Are we going to do any more at + Castro by my being a Republican than when I am not one? Besides the fact + that I should not be elected on that ticket and should thus have no + further influence, to me the forms of a government are indifferent; I + don’t even care whether it has a true ideal or a false one. What I do want + is for the town to progress; whether by means of a dream or by means of a + reality. A politician should seek for efficiency before asking anything + else, and at present the Republican dream would not be efficient at + Castro.” + </p> + <p> + Most of the Republicans did not go away very well satisfied with what + Cæsar had said; and after leaving him, they would say: + </p> + <p> + “He is a very curious person, but he favours us and we’ll have to follow + him.” + </p> + <p> + The reopening of the Workmen’s Club in Castro was the chance for an event. + Cæsar was in favour of inaugurating the Club without any celebration, + without attracting the attention of the Clericals; but the members of the + Club, on the contrary, wished to give the reactionaries a dose to swallow, + and Cæsar could not but promise his participation in the inauguration. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to come to Castro?” Cæsar said to Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do there?” + </p> + <p> + “We are going to open a Club.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to speak?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Let’s go, so that I can hear you. Probably you will do it + badly enough.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s possible.” + </p> + <p> + “And what you say won’t please anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s possible, too. But that makes no difference. You will come?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Will there be picturesque speakers?” + </p> + <p> + “There are some, but they are not going to speak. There is one, Uncle + Chinaman, who is a marvel. In describing the actual condition of Spain, he + once uttered this authoritative phrase: ‘Clericalism in the zenith, + immorality in high places, the debt floating more every day,...’” + </p> + <p> + “That’s very good.” “It certainly is. He made another happy phrase, + criticizing the Spanish administration. ‘For what reason do they write so + many useless papers?’ he said. ‘So that rats, the obscene reptiles, can go + on eating them....’” + </p> + <p> + “That’s very good too.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a man without any education, but very intelligent. So you are going + to come?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we will meet at the station.” + </p> + <p> + CAN ONE CHANGE OR NOT? + </p> + <p> + They took the train at night and they chatted as they went along in it. + Cæsar explained to Alzugaray the difficulties he had had to overcome in + order that the Workmen’s Club could be reinstituted, and went on detailing + his projects for the future. + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe the town is going to be transformed?” asked Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certainly!” said Cæsar, staring at his friend. + </p> + <p> + “So then, you, a Darwinist who hold it as a scientific doctrine that only + the slow action of environment can transform species and individuals, + believe that a poor worn-out, jog-trotting race is going to revive + suddenly, in a few years! Can a Darwinist believe in a revolutionizing + miracle?” + </p> + <p> + “Previously, no; but now he can.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow! How so?” + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you read anything about the experiments of the Dutch botanist + Hugo de Vries?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, his experiments have proved that there are certain vegetable + species which, all at once, without any preparation, without anything to + make you expect it, change type absolutely and take on other characters.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil! That really is extraordinary.” + </p> + <p> + “Vries verified this rapid transformation first in a plant named + OEnotheria Lamarckiana, which, all of a sudden, with no influence from the + environment, with nothing to justify it, at times changes and + metamorphosizes itself into a different plant.” + </p> + <p> + “But this transformation may be due to a disease,” said Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “No, because the mutation, after taking place, persists from generation to + generation, not with pathological characteristics, but with completely + normal ones.” + </p> + <p> + “It is most curious.” + </p> + <p> + “These experiments have produced Neo-Darwinism. The Neo-Darwinists, with + Hugo de Vries at their head, believe that species are not generally + gradually transformed, but that they produce new forms in a sudden, + brusque way, having children different from the fathers. And if such + brusque variations can take place in a characteristic so fixed as + physiological form, what may not happen in a thing so unstable as the + manner of thinking? Thus, it is very possible that the men of the Italian + Renaissance or the French Revolution were mentally distinct from their + predecessors and their successors, and they may even have been organically + distinct.” + </p> + <p> + “But this overthrows the whole doctrine of evolution,” said Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “No. The only thing it has done is to distinguish two forms of change: + one, the slow variation already verified by everybody, the other the + brusque variation pointed out by Hugo de Vries. We see now that the + impulses, which in politics are called evolution and revolution, are only + reflexions of Nature’s movements.” + </p> + <p> + “So then, we may hope that Castro Duro will change into an Athens?” asked + Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “We may hope so,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “All right, let’s hope sleeping.” + </p> + <p> + They ordered the porter to prepare two berths in the car, and they both + lay down. + </p> + <p> + THE RECEPTION + </p> + <p> + In the morning Cæsar went to the dressing-room, and a short while later + came back clean and dressed up as if he were at a ball. + </p> + <p> + “How spruce you are!” Alzugaray said to him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s because they will come to receive me at the station.” + </p> + <p> + “Honestly?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha... ha... ha...!” laughed Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “What are you laughing at?” asked Cæsar, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “At your having arranged a reception and brought me along for a witness.” + </p> + <p> + “No, man, no,” said Cæsar; “I have arranged nothing. The workmen of the + Club will come down out of gratitude.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that’s it! Then there will be only a few.” + </p> + <p> + At this juncture the car door opened and a man in the dirty clothes of a + mechanic appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Don Cæsar Moncada?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “I belong to the Castro Workmen’s Club and I have come to welcome you + ahead of anybody else,” and he held out his hand. “Greetings!” + </p> + <p> + “Greetings! Regards to the comrades,” said Cæsar, shaking his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Damn it, what enthusiasm!” murmured Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + The employee disappeared. On arriving at the station, Alzugaray looked out + the window and saw with astonishment that the platform was full of people. + </p> + <p> + As the car entered the covered area of the station, noisy applause broke + out. Cæsar opened the door and took off his hat courteously. + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah for Moncada! Hurrah for the Deputy from Castro! Hurrah for + liberty!” they heard the shouts. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar got out of the car, followed by Alzugaray, and found himself + surrounded by a lot of people. There were some workmen and peasants, but + the majority were comfortable citizens. + </p> + <p> + They all crowded around to grasp his hand. + </p> + <p> + Surrounded by this multitude, they left the station. There Cæsar took + leave of all his acquaintances and got into a carriage with Alzugaray, + while hurrahs and applauses resounded. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? What did you think of the reception?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Magnificent, my boy!” + </p> + <p> + “You can’t say I behaved like a demagogue.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, you were too distant.” + </p> + <p> + “They know I am like that and it doesn’t astonish them.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had a rented house in Castro and the two friends went to it. All + morning and part of the afternoon committees kept coming from the + villages, who wanted to talk with Cæsar and consult him about the affairs + of their respective municipalities. + </p> + <p> + INAUGURATION OF THE CLUB + </p> + <p> + In the evening the Workmen’s Club was inaugurated. Nobody in Castro talked + of anything else. The Clerical element had advised all religious persons + to stay away from the meeting. + </p> + <p> + The large hall of the Club was profusely lighted; and by half-past six was + already completely full. + </p> + <p> + At seven the ceremony began. The president of the Club, a printer, spoke, + and told of Cæsar’s benefactions; then the Republican bookseller, San + Román, give a discourse; and after him Cæsar took up the tale. + </p> + <p> + He explained his position in the Chamber in detail. The people listened + with some astonishment, doubtless wishing to find an opportune occasion + for applause, and not finding it. + </p> + <p> + Some of the old men put their hands to their ears, like a shell, so as to + hear better. + </p> + <p> + Next, Cæsar spoke about life in Castro, and pointed out the town’s needs. + </p> + <p> + “You have here,” he said, “three fundamental problems, as is the case with + almost all towns in the interior of Spain. First: water. You have neither + good drinking water, nor enough water for irrigation. For want of + drinkable water, the mortality of Castro is high; for want of irrigation, + you cannot cultivate more than a very small zone, under good conditions. + For that reason water must be brought here, and an irrigation canal begun. + Second problem: subsistence. Here, as in the whole of Castile, there are + people who corner the grain market and raise the price of wheat, and + people who corner the necessities of life and put up their prices as high + as they feel like. To prevent this, it is necessary for the Municipality + to establish a public granary which shall regulate prices. For, want of + that, the people are condemned to hunger, and people that do not eat can + neither work nor be free. Third problem: means of transport. You have the + railway here, but you have neither good highways nor good byways, and + transportation is most difficult. I, for my part, will do all I can to + keep the federal government from neglecting this region, but we must also + stir up the little municipalities to take care of their roads. + </p> + <p> + “These three are questions that must be settled as soon as possible. + </p> + <p> + “Water, subsistence, transportation; those are not matters of luxury, but + of necessity, matters of life. They belong to what may be called the + politics of bread. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot make the reforms alone; first, because I have not the means; + next, because even supposing I had, if I must leave these improvements in + a township that would not look after them, not take care of them, they + would soon disappear; they would be like the canals dug by the Moors and + afterwards allowed to fill up through the neglect of the Christians. That + is what politics are needed for, to convince reactionaries. + </p> + <p> + “At the same time, looking toward the future, let us start the school, + which I should like to see not merely a primary school, but also a school + for working-men. + </p> + <p> + “Let us endeavour, too, to turn the field of San Roque into a park.” + </p> + <p> + After explaining his program, Cæsar called on all progressive men who had + liberal ideas and loved their city, to collaborate in his work. + </p> + <p> + When he ended his speech, all the audience applauded violently. Alzugaray + was able to verify the fact that the majority of them had not understood + what Cæsar was saying. “They didn’t understand anything. A few sparkling + phrases would have pleased them much better.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, of course. But that makes no difference,” replied Cæsar. “They will + get used to it.” + </p> + <p> + The inauguration over, the bookseller, San Román, Dr. Ortigosa, Señor + Camacho, who was the pharmacist that called himself an inventor of + explosives, and some others, met in the office of the Club, and talked + with great enthusiasm of the transformation that was obviously taking + place at Castro. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. THE PITFALL OF SINIGAGLIA + </h2> + <h3> + A COMMISSION FOR THE MINISTER + </h3> + <p> + A few days later, during Carnival, the Minister of the Treasury presented + himself at Cæsar’s hotel. The famous financier was a trifle nervous. + </p> + <p> + “Come along with me,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Come on.” + </p> + <p> + They got into a motor, and the Minister suddenly asked: + </p> + <p> + “Could you go to Paris immediately?” + </p> + <p> + “There’s nothing to prevent. What is it to do?” + </p> + <p> + “You know that the great financier Dupont de Sarthe is studying out a plan + for restoring the value of the currency of Spain.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, today the Speaker asked me several times if it was ready. It is + necessary for me to introduce it soon, as soon as possible, and along with + the plan for restoring the currency, one for the suppression of the + government tax.” + </p> + <p> + “The Speaker wishes to have these plans introduced?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he wishes them introduced at once.” + </p> + <p> + “That indicates that the Conservative situation is very strong,” said + Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Obviously.” + </p> + <p> + “And what do you want me to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Go to Dupont de Sarthe and have him explain his scheme clearly, and tell + you the difficulties; if he has an outline of it, have him give it to you; + if not, have him give you his notes.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Shall I go tonight?” + </p> + <p> + “If you can, it would be the best thing.” “There’s nothing to prevent. + Take me back to the hotel and I will pack.” + </p> + <p> + The Minister told the chauffeur to go back to Cæsar’s house. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as you arrive, let me know by wire, and write to me explaining + the scheme in the greatest possible detail.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good.” + </p> + <p> + “You will need money; I don’t know if I have any here,” said the Minister, + feeling for his pocket-book. + </p> + <p> + “I have enough for the trip,” replied Cæsar. “But, as I might need some in + Paris, it would not be a bad idea for you to open an account for me at a + bank there, or else to give me a cheque.” + </p> + <p> + The Minister vacillated, then went into the hotel writing-room and signed + a cheque on a Parisian banker in the Rue de Provence, which he handed to + Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “See you on your return,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar called a servant and bade him: + </p> + <p> + “Telephone to my friend Alzugaray. You know his number. Tell him to be + here inside an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, sir.” + </p> + <p> + This arranged, Cæsar went to the main door and saw that the Minister’s + motor was headed for down town. Immediately he took a carriage and went to + the Chamber. The undersecretary of the Speaker was a friend of his; + sometimes he gave him advice about playing the market. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar looked him up, and when he found him, said: + </p> + <p> + “How are we getting on?” + </p> + <p> + “All right, man,” replied the undersecretary. + </p> + <p> + “Come over here, so I can see you in the light,” said Cæsar, and taking + him by the hand, he looked into his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “It’s true,” said the undersecretary, laughing, “that the situation is not + very strong.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the danger?” + </p> + <p> + “The only danger is your friend, the famous financier. He is the one who + could play us a dirty trick.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you suspect what it could be?” “No. Not clearly. You must know better + than any one else.” + </p> + <p> + “I have just seen the Minister, and he gave me the impression of being + satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + “Then everything is all right. But I haven’t much confidence.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar left the undersecretary, went out of the Chamber, and returned home + in the carriage. Alzugaray was waiting in the entry for him. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar called to him from the carriage: + </p> + <p> + “I am going to Paris,” he told him, “to spend a few days.” + </p> + <p> + “Good.” + </p> + <p> + “I must draw out what money I have in the Bank.” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s go there now.” + </p> + <p> + They went to the Bank, to the paying teller, and Cæsar drew out twenty + thousand pesetas of his few months’ winnings on the market. + </p> + <p> + “You are not going to play at all, this month?” asked Alzugaray. + </p> + <p> + “No, not this month.” + </p> + <p> + They left the Bank. + </p> + <p> + “I will wire you my address in Paris,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Very good. And nothing is to be done?” + </p> + <p> + “No. That is to say, my partner and I are not going to play. Nevertheless, + I am going to leave you two thousand pesetas, and if you think well, you + can use it as you choose.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Alzugaray, pleased at Cæsar’s confidence in his talents + for speculation. + </p> + <p> + “In case I need any information which had best not be public,” Cæsar went + on, “I will wire you in code. Do you know the Aran code?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “I will give it to you, directly, at my house. If you receive a telegram + from me from Paris, beginning with your name: ‘Ignacio, do thus or so,’ + you will know it is in the code.” + </p> + <p> + “I follow you. What’s up?” + </p> + <p> + “An affair the Minister is putting through, which we will not let him pull + off without getting our share out of him. I will explain it to you, when I + come back.” + </p> + <p> + “How long do you expect to be there?” + </p> + <p> + “Two weeks at most; but perhaps I’ll come right back.” + </p> + <p> + INDUCTION + </p> + <p> + On arriving at the train, Cæsar bought all the evening papers. In one of + them he found an article entitled: <i>The Projects of the Minister of + Finance</i>, and he read it carefully. + </p> + <p> + The writer said that the Minister of Finance had never been so closely + identified with the Conservative Cabinet as at that moment; that he had + plans for a number of projects for the salvation of the Spanish Treasury, + which he would briefly explain. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a witty joke,” thought Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + He was too well acquainted with the market and monetary affairs in + general, too well acquainted with the sterling worth of the famous + financier not to understand the idea of his scheme. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar knew that the Minister not only was not on good terms with his + colleagues in the Government, but was at sword’s points with them, and was + moreover disposed to give up his portfolio from one day to the next. + </p> + <p> + Whence came this haste to launch the plan for the suppression of the + government tax and restoring the value of the currency? Why did he send + him, Cæsar, on this errand, and not somebody in the Department? + </p> + <p> + His haste to launch the plan was easy to comprehend. + </p> + <p> + The Minister was about to give a decisive impulse to all stocks; the + suppression of the affidavit and the restoring the value of the currency + would shove up domestic paper in Spain and foreign stocks in France to + extraordinary heights. Then a difficulty with the Speaker, a moment of + anger, such as was to be expected in a character like the Minister’s, + would oblige him to offer his resignation... prices would take a terrible + drop, and the Minister, having already planned for a big bear scoop in + Paris, would clear some hundreds of thousands of francs and keep his + reputation as a patriot and an excellent financier. + </p> + <p> + Why was he sending Cæsar? No doubt because he suspected his secretary, + whom he had probably given similar missions to previously. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar knew the Minister well. He had described him in his notes in these + words: “He is dark and brachicephalic; a man of tradition and good common + sense; average intellect, astute, a good father and a good Catholic. He + believes himself cleverer than he really is. His two leading passions are + vanity and money.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar knew the Minister, but the Minister did not know Cæsar. He imagined + him to be a man of brilliant intellect, but incapable of grasping + realities. + </p> + <p> + After thinking a long while over the business, while he was undressing to + go to bed in the sleeping-car, Cæsar said: + </p> + <p> + “There is only one thing to find out. Who is the Minister’s broker in + Paris, and who is his banker? With Yarza’s assistance that is not going to + be difficult for me to ascertain. When we know what broker he works + through and what banker, the affair is finished.” + </p> + <p> + Having concluded thus, he got into his berth, put out the light, and lay + there dozing. + </p> + <p> + IN PARIS + </p> + <p> + On arriving at Paris next evening, he left his luggage in the hotel at the + Quai d’Orsay station. He wired his address to the Minister and to + Alzugaray, and went out at once to look for Carlos Yarza. He was unable to + find him until very late at night. He explained to his friend what had + brought him, and Yarza told him he was at his disposition. + </p> + <p> + “When you need me, let me know.” + </p> + <p> + “Good.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar went off to bed, and the next morning he proceeded to the + banking-house in the Rue de Provence where he was to cash the cheque + handed him by the Minister of the Treasury. + </p> + <p> + He entered the bank and asked for the president. A clerk came out and + Cæsar explained to him that on arriving at his hotel he had missed a + cheque for three thousand francs from the Spanish Minister of Finance. He + introduced himself as a Deputy, as an intimate friend of the Minister’s, + and behaved as if much vexed. The department manager told him that they + could do no more than take the number and not pay the cheque if anybody + presented it for payment. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t handle the Minister’s business here?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “No, only very rarely,” said the manager. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know who his regular banker is?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I will ask, because it is very possible that the chief may know.” + </p> + <p> + The clerk went out and came back a little later, informing Cæsar that they + said the house the Spanish Minister of Finance did his banking with was + Recquillart and Company, Rue Bergère. + </p> + <p> + The street was near at hand, and it took Cæsar only a very little while to + get there. The building was dark, lighted by electricity even in the + daytime, one of those classic corners where Jewish usurers amass great + fortunes. + </p> + <p> + There was no question of employing the same ruse as in the Rue de + Provence, and Cæsar thought of another. + </p> + <p> + He asked for M. Recquillart, and out came a heavy gentleman, a blond going + grey, with a rosy cranium and gold eyeglasses. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar told him he was secretary to a rich Spanish miner, who was then in + Paris. That gentleman wanted to try some business on the Bourse, but was + unable to come to the bank because he was ill of the dropsy. + </p> + <p> + “Who recommended our house to this gentleman?” asked the banker. + </p> + <p> + “I think it was the Minister of Finance, in Spain.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, very good, very good! And how are we to communicate with him? + Through you?” + </p> + <p> + “No. He told me he would prefer to have a clerk who knows Spanish come to + him and take his orders.” “That is all right; one shall go. We happen to + have a Spanish clerk. At what hour shall he come?” said M. Recquillart, + taking out a pencil. + </p> + <p> + “At nine in the evening.” + </p> + <p> + “For whom shall he ask?” + </p> + <p> + “For Señor Pérez Cuesta.” + </p> + <p> + “At what hotel?” + </p> + <p> + “The one in the Quai d’Orsay station.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good indeed.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar bowed; and after he had sent Yarza a telephone message, making an + appointment for after the Bourse at the Café Riche, he took an automobile + and went to hunt for the great financier Dupont de Sarthe, who lived on + the other bank of the Seine, near the Montparnasse station. + </p> + <p> + He had a large, sumptuous office, with an enormous library. Two + secretaries were at work at small tables placed in front of the balconies, + and the master wrote at a big Ministerial table full of books. When Cæsar + introduced himself, the great economist rose, offered his hand, and in a + sharp voice with a Parisian accent, asked what he desired. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar told him the Minister’s request, and the great economist became + indignant. + </p> + <p> + “Does that gentleman imagine that I am at his bidding, to begin a piece of + work and stop it according as it suits him, and take it up again when he + orders? No, tell him no. Tell him the scheme he asked me for is not done, + not finished; that I cannot give him any data or any information at all.” + </p> + <p> + In view of the great man’s indignation, Cæsar made no reply, but left the + house. He lunched at his hotel, gave orders that if any one brought a + letter or message for Señor Pérez Cuesta they should receive it, and went + again to the Rue de Provence, where he said he had had the good luck to + find his cheque. + </p> + <p> + With all these goings and comings it got to be three o’clock, and Cæsar + turned his steps toward the Café Riche. Yarza was there and the two talked + a long while. Yarza knew of the manoeuvres of the Minister of Finance, and + he gave his opinion about them with great knowledge of the business + questions. He also knew Recquillart’s clerk, the Catalan Pujol, of whom he + had not a very good opinion. + </p> + <p> + The two friends made an engagement for the next day and Cæsar hurried to + his hotel. He wrote to the Minister, telling him what the fundamentals of + Dupont de Sarthe’s project were; and between his own ideas and those Yarza + had expounded to him, he was able to draw up a complete enough plan. + </p> + <p> + “The Minister being a man who knows nothing about all this,” thought + Cæsar, “when he understands that the ideas I expound are those of the + celebrated Dupont de Sarthe, will find them wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + RECQUILLART’S CLERK + </p> + <p> + After having written his letter and taken a little tea, he lay stretched + out on a divan, until they brought him word that a young man was asking + for Señor Pérez Cuesta. + </p> + <p> + “Send him up.” + </p> + <p> + Señor Puchol entered, a dark little man who wore a morning-coat and had a + hat with a flat brim edged with braid. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar greeted him affably and made him sit down. + </p> + <p> + “But are you not Spanish?” Cæsar asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I was born in Barcelona.” + </p> + <p> + “I should have taken you for a Frenchman.” + </p> + <p> + “In dress and everything else, I am a complete Parisian.” + </p> + <p> + “This poor man is full of vanity,” thought Cæsar. “All the better.” He + immediately began to explain the affair. + </p> + <p> + “Look,” he said, “the whole matter is this: the Spanish Minister of + Finance, my chief, has dealings on a large scale with the Recquillart + bank; you know that, and so do I; but the Recquillarts, besides charging + an inflated commission, interfere in his buying and selling with so little + cleverness, that whenever he buys, it turns out that he bought for more + than the market price of the security, and whenever he sells, he sells + lower than the quotation. The Minister does not wish to break off with the + Recquillarts....” + </p> + <p> + “He can’t, you meant to say,” replied Puchol, in an insinuating manner. + “Since you know the situation...” responded Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Oughtn’t I to?” + </p> + <p> + “Since you know the whole situation,” continued Cæsar, “I will say that he + cannot indeed break off with the Recquillarts, but the Minister would like + to do business with somebody else, without passing under the yoke of the + chief.” + </p> + <p> + “He ought to make arrangements with another broker here,” said Puchol. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, certainly. I have brought some twenty thousand francs with that + object.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there is no difficulty.” + </p> + <p> + “But we need a go-between. The Minister doesn’t care to turn to the first + banker at hand and explain all his combinations to him.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s where I come in.” + </p> + <p> + “Good, but we must know beforehand how much you are to get. Your demands + may be such that it would be better for him to stick to the Recquillarts.” + </p> + <p> + “Recquillart gets ten percent of the profits, besides a small commission + as broker. I will take five.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a good deal.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not accept less; the arrangement might cost me my career. Consult + him....” + </p> + <p> + “If I could consult him! The truth is that there may not be time. We will + accept five.” + </p> + <p> + “What does the Minister wish to speculate in? The same things as with + Recquillart? Foreign Loans and Northerns?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. Just as before.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. The investment, as you can see, is safe,” Puchol continued. “I + would put my fortune in it, if I had one. There are a lot of newspapers + bought; all the financial reviews are predicting a rise.” + </p> + <p> + The clerk took out a folded review and handed it to Cæsar, who read: + </p> + <p> + “We are assured that the plan of the Spanish Minister of Finance must make + foreign securities rise considerably. Northerns will follow the same path, + and there are indications that their rise will be very rapid and will + cover several points.” + </p> + <p> + “The field is going to be covered with corpses,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + Señor Puchol burst out laughing; Cæsar invited him to dine with him, and + gave him a sumptuous dinner with good wines. + </p> + <p> + Puchol was absolutely vain, and he boasted of his triumphs on the Bourse; + it was he who guided Recquillart in the dealings he had with Spaniards, in + which they had plucked various incautious persons. + </p> + <p> + “How much will the Minister’s operation amount to?” Cæsar asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody can prevent his making three hundred thousand, at the least. With + the increase he has ordered you to make, it will come to six hundred + thousand. We will gobble up the two points it falls.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know if there may have been some new order while I was in the + train coming to Paris,” said Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “No, his operation is all arranged,” replied Puchol, and he got out a + note-book and consulted it. “It will be like giving away bread. We are + going to sell ten millions of Foreigns and five hundred Northerns on the + seventeenth, the eighteenth, and the twentieth.” + </p> + <p> + “And the scoop will take place?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “On the 27th.” + </p> + <p> + “So that on those days we shall sell just as much again?” + </p> + <p> + “And we shall sell much dearer.” + </p> + <p> + They dropped that point and talked of other things. + </p> + <p> + Señor Puchol was a literary man and was writing a symbolistic drama which + he wanted to read to Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + At twelve they said good-night. Puchol was to tell his chief that he had + not been able to do any business with Señor Pérez Cuesta. In respect to + the other matter, they had an engagement for ten the next morning at a + café in the neighbourhood of the Bourse. + </p> + <p> + There were no great difficulties to overcome. They saw a broker named + Müller. Cæsar entrusted him with his twenty thousand francs, and hinted + that the speculation was being made for some rich people, who would have + no objection to making up any loss, if he should exceed the twenty + thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + The broker told him he could play whatsoever sum he wished. + </p> + <p> + As Cæsar had not entire confidence in Puchol, and did not care either to + tell the broker that he was to begin only when the stocks fell, he brought + Yarza into the deal. + </p> + <p> + Puchol was to say to Yarza: “The Minister has given the order to sell”; + and Yarza would first verify this, if he could verify it; then he would + tell the broker: “Sell.” It might go as far as handling twenty millions of + Foreigns and up to a thousand of Northerns. + </p> + <p> + In order to get all the ends well tied up, Cæsar had to get from one place + to another without a moment’s rest. + </p> + <p> + IN MADRID + </p> + <p> + The trap being set, Cæsar took the train, worn out and feverish. He + arrived at Madrid, took a bath, and went to see the Minister; and after + the interview went to his house in the Calle de Galileo and spent two days + in bed, alone in the completest silence. + </p> + <p> + The third day Alzugaray arrived, anxious. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter? Are you sick?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No. How did you know I was here?” + </p> + <p> + “Your janitress came to my house to tell me you were in bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there’s nothing wrong with me, boy.” + </p> + <p> + “You should know that there’s a splendid chance to make some money, + today.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and we haven’t done anything in the market, except one miserable + little operation.” + </p> + <p> + “And why do you think there is such a good chance?” + </p> + <p> + “Because there is, because everybody can see it,” said Alzugaray. “Prices + are going to rise with this project of the Minister of Finance’s; they are + going in for a big deal; everybody has been indiscreet, without meaning to + be, and people on the market are buying and buying. Everybody is sure of a + rise... and we are doing nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “We are doing nothing,” repeated Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “But it is absurd.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the date?” + </p> + <p> + “The twenty-second.” + </p> + <p> + “The evening of the twenty-seventh we will talk.” + </p> + <p> + “How mysterious you are, boy.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t tell you any more now. If you have bought anything, sell it.” + </p> + <p> + “But why?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, when you get on these sibylline airs, I say no more. Another + thing. Various gentlemen have come to tell me that they wanted to play the + market; they have heard that it is about to go up....” + </p> + <p> + “Who were they?” + </p> + <p> + “Among others, Amparito’s father and Don Calixto García Guerrero.” + </p> + <p> + “If they wish to give security, tell our broker, and I will sell them + anything they want to buy.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “Really. I have my reasons for doing it.” + </p> + <p> + “This time we are all going to make, except you.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Ignacio, I am at Sinigaglia.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that mean?” + </p> + <p> + “If you have a moment free, read the history of the Borgias,” murmured + Cæsar, turning over in bed. + </p> + <p> + The next few days Cæsar lived in constant intranquillity. Yarza + telegraphed him, saying that they had done the whole operation. On the + 27th, in the afternoon, Cæsar wandered toward the Calle de Alcalá; Madrid + wore its normal aspect; the newspaper boys were calling no extras. More + worried than he liked, Cæsar went for his walk by the Canalillo and then + shut himself in his house. In the evening he went out breathless and + bought the newspapers. His first impression was one of panic; there was + nothing; on reaching the third page he uttered an exclamation and smiled. + The Minister of Finance had just offered his resignation. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Cæsar went to the hotel in the Carrera de San Jerónimo + where he had a room, and in the afternoon to the Chamber. He telephoned to + Alzugaray to come and see him after the exchange closed. + </p> + <p> + Alzugaray arrived, looking pale, in company with Amparito’s father, Don + Calixto, and the broker. They were all wretched. The news was horrible. + Domestics had fallen two points and were still falling; in Paris the + Foreign Loan had fallen more than four; Northern was not falling but + tumbling to the bottom of a precipice. + </p> + <p> + “Did you know that the Minister was going to present his resignation?” + asked the broker, in despair. + </p> + <p> + “I, no. How should I know it? Even the Minister himself couldn’t have + known it yesterday. But I had scientific data for not believing in that + rise.” + </p> + <p> + “I am ruined,” exclaimed the broker. “I have lost my savings.” + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto and Amparito’s father had also lost very large sums, which + Cæsar won, and they were disconsolate. + </p> + <p> + When they were gone and only Alzugaray remained, he said to Cæsar: + </p> + <p> + “And you have played in Paris, too, probably.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “On a fall?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a bandit.” + </p> + <p> + “This game, my dear Ignacio, based solely on events, is not a speculator’s + game, but is, simply, a hold-up. The other day I told you: ‘I am at + Sinigaglia.’ Did you read the history of Cæsar Borgia?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what he did at Sinigaglia to the <i>condottieri</i>, to + Vittellozzo, Oliverotto da Fermo, and his other two captain-adventurers, I + have done to the Minister of Finance, to Don Calixto, Amparito’s father, + and many others.” And Cæsar explained his game. Alzugaray was amazed. + </p> + <p> + “How much have you made?” + </p> + <p> + “From what these telegrams say, I think I shall go over half a million + francs. From those beginners, Don Calixto and Amparito’s father, I think I + have made forty thousand pesetas.” + </p> + <p> + “What an atrocious person! If the Minister should find out about your + game.” + </p> + <p> + “Let him find out. I am not worried. The famous financier, in addition to + being an idiot, is an honourable rogue. He plays the market with the + object of enriching himself and leaving a fortune to his repugnant + children. I, on the other hand, play it with a patriotic object.” + </p> + <p> + The matter didn’t rest there: Puchol, carried away by an easily + comprehensible desire for lucre, and thinking it brought the same amount + to the famous financier whether he played through Recquillart or through + Muller, had made the last bid for the Minister through the new broker. + </p> + <p> + The Minister’s winnings diminished considerably and Cæsar’s gained in + proportion. The illustrious financier, on learning what had happened, + shrieked to heaven; but he said nothing, because of the secret transaction + they had had together. Puchol was dismissed by Recquillart, and with the + thirty thousand francs he collected from Cæsar he set up for himself. + </p> + <p> + The Minister, a little later, went to Biarritz, to collect his share. On + his return he sent Cæsar a note, unsigned and written on the type-writer. + It read: + </p> + <p> + “I did not think you had enough ability for cheating. Another time I will + be more careful.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar replied in the same manner, as follows: + </p> + <p> + “When it’s a question of a man who, besides being an idiot, is a poor + creature and a cheat like you, I have no scruple in robbing him first and + despising him afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + Some days later Cæsar published an article attacking the retiring Minister + of Finance and disclosing a lot of data and figures. + </p> + <p> + The Minister answered with a letter in a Conservative paper, in which he + denied everything Cæsar alleged, and said, with contempt, that questions + of Finance were not to be treated by “amateurs.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar said that he considered himself insulted by the Minister’s words, + whom, however, he admired as a financier; and a few months later he joined + the Liberal party and was received with open arms by its famous chief. + </p> + <p> + XII. LOCAL STRUGGLES THE WATER SUPPLY + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had money in abundance, and he decided to exert a decisive influence + on Castro Duro. + </p> + <p> + For a long while he had had various projects planned. + </p> + <p> + He thought it was an appropriate moment to put them into practice. + </p> + <p> + The first that he tried to carry out was the water supply. + </p> + <p> + The Municipality had a plan for this in the archives, and Cæsar asked for + it to study. The scheme was big and expensive; the stream it was necessary + to harness so as to bring it to Castro, was far away. Besides it was + requisite to construct a piping system or an aqueduct. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar consulted an engineer, who told him: + </p> + <p> + “From a business point of view, this is very poor. Even if you use the + superfluous water, in a factory for instance, it will give you no + results.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do then?” + </p> + <p> + “The simplest thing would be to put in a pumping plant and pump up the + river water.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is infected water, full of impurities.” + </p> + <p> + “It can be purified by filtering. That’s not difficult.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar laid this plan before the Municipality, and it was decided to carry + it out, as the most practical and practicable. A company was formed to + pump up the water, and work was begun. + </p> + <p> + The stockholders were almost all rich people of Castro, and the company + drew up its constitution in such a manner that the town got scarcely any + benefit out of it. They were not going to instal more than two public + fountains inside the city limits, and those were to run only a few hours. + Cæsar tried to convince them that this was absurd, but nobody paid any + attention to him. + </p> + <p> + THE LIBRARY + </p> + <p> + A bit disappointed, he left the “Water Pumping Company” to go its way, and + devoted himself entirely to things that he could carry out alone. + </p> + <p> + The first one he tried was establishing a circulating library of technical + books on trades and agriculture, and of polite and scientific literature, + in the Workmen’s Club. + </p> + <p> + “They will sell the books,” everybody said; “they will get them all + soiled, and tear out the leaves....” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had the volumes bound, and at the end of each he had ten or twelve + blank sheets put in, in case the reader wished to write notes. + </p> + <p> + The experiment began; predictions were not fulfilled; the books came back + to the library untorn and unspotted and with some very ingenuous notes in + them. Lots of people took out books. + </p> + <p> + The clerical element immediately protested; the priests said in the pulpit + that to send any chance book to working people’s houses without examining + it first, was to lead people into error. Dr. Ortigosa retorted that + Science did not need the approval of sacristans. As, in spite of the + clerical element’s advice, people kept on reading, there were various + persons that took out books and filled them with obscene drawings and tore + out illustrations. Dr. Ortigosa sent Cæsar a letter informing him what was + happening, and Cæsar answered that he must limit the distribution of books + to the members of the Workmen’s Club and people that were known. He bade + him replace the six or seven books abused, and continued to send new ones. + </p> + <p> + The ferment kept the city stirred up; there were no end of heated + discussions; lectures were given in the Club, and Dr. Ortigosa’s paper, <i>The + Protest</i>, came to life again. + </p> + <p> + “I am with you in whatever will agitate the people’s ideas,” wrote Cæsar; + “but if they start to play orators and revolutionists, and you folks come + along with pedantic notions, then I for my part shall drop the whole + thing.” + </p> + <p> + When Cæsar was in Castro, he spent his evenings at the Workmen’s Club. + They gave moving pictures and frequent balls. Cæsar did not miss one of + the Club’s entertainments. The men came to him for advice, and the girls + and the little boys bowed to him affectionately. There was great + enthusiasm over him. + </p> + <p> + THE BENEVOLENT SOCIETY + </p> + <p> + Shortly after the initiation of these improvements in the Club, there + appeared in Castro Duro, without fuss, without noise, two rather + mysterious societies; the Benevolent Society of Saint Joseph and the + Agricultural Fund. In an instant the Benevolent Society of Saint Joseph + had a numerous array of members and patrons. All the great landholders of + the region, including Amparito’s father, bound themselves to employ no + labourers except those belonging to the Benevolent Society. In the + neighbouring villages the inhabitants joined <i>en masse</i>. At the same + time as this important society, Father Martin and his friends founded the + Castrian Agricultural Fund, whose purpose was to make loans, at a low rate + of interest, to small proprietors. + </p> + <p> + The two Catholic institutions set themselves up in rivalry to the + Workmen’s institution. The town was divided; the Catholics were more + numerous and richer; the Liberals more determined and enthusiastic. The + Catholics had given their upholders a resigned character. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, the name Catholic applied to the members of the two Clerical + societies made those who did not belong to them admit with great + tranquillity that <i>they</i> were not Catholics. + </p> + <p> + The Clericals called their enemies Moncadists, and by implication + Schismatics, Atheists, and Anarchists. Inside the town there was a + Moncadist majority; in the environs everybody was a Catholic and belonged + to the Benevolent Society. + </p> + <p> + Generally the Catholics were abused in word and deed by the Moncadists; + the members of the Workmen’s Club held those of the Benevolent Society for + cowards and traitors. Doubtless Father Martín did not wish that his + followers should be distinguished by Christian meekness, and he appointed + a bully whom people called “Driveller” Juan warden of the Benevolent + Society. This Juan was a lad who lived without working; his mother and his + sisters were dressmakers, and he bled them for money, and spent his life + in taverns and gambling-dens. + </p> + <p> + “Driveller” began to insult members of the club, especially the boys, and + to defy them, on any pretext. Dr. Ortigosa went to see Cæsar and explained + the situation. “Driveller” was a coward, he didn’t venture beyond a few + peaceable workmen; but if he had defied “Furibis” or “Panza” or any of the + railway men that belonged to the Club, they would have given him what he + deserved. But in spite of “Driveller’s” cowardice, he inspired terror + among the young boys and apprentices. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Ortigosa was in favour of getting another bully, who could undertake + the job of cutting out “Driveller’s” guts. + </p> + <p> + “Whom are we to get?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “We know somebody,” said Ortigosa. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” + </p> + <p> + “’ El Montes.’” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of a party is he?” + </p> + <p> + “A bandit like the other, but braver.” + </p> + <p> + <i>BANDITS</i> + </p> + <p> + “El Montes” had just come out of Ocaña. + </p> + <p> + He was a Manchegan, tall, strong, robust, and had been in the penitentiary + several times. + </p> + <p> + “And how do we manage ‘El Montes’?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “We make him a servant at the Workmen’s Club.” + </p> + <p> + “He will corrupt the place.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s true. Then at the right moment we shall send him to the Café + del Comercio. They gamble at that café; he can go there and in two or + three days call a halt on ‘Driveller’ Juan.” “Good.” + </p> + <p> + “We must arrange for you to dismiss the new judge and put in some friend + of yours, and one fine day we will get a quarrel started and we will put + all Father Martin’s friends in jail.” + </p> + <p> + “You two play atrocious politics,” said Alzugaray, who was listening to + the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the only kind that will work,” replied Ortigosa. “This is scientific + politics. Ruffianism converted into philosophy. We are playing a game of + chess with Father Martin and we are going to see if we can’t win it.” + </p> + <p> + “But, man, employing all these cut-throats!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend,” responded Cæsar, “political situations include such + things; with their heads they touch the noblest things, the safety of + one’s native land and the race; with their feet they touch the meanest + things, plots, vices, crimes. A politician of today still has to mingle + with reptiles, even though he be an honourable man.” + </p> + <p> + “Besides, we need have no scruples,” added Ortigosa; “the inhabitants of + Castro are laboratory guinea-pigs. We are going to experiment on them, we + are going to see if they can stand the Liberal serum.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <i>THE TWO ASYLUMS</i> + </p> + <p> + A little after these rivalries between the Benevolent Society and the + Workmen’s Club, which stirred up every one’s passions to an extreme never + before known at Castro Duro, another motive for agitation transpired. + </p> + <p> + There were two asylums in the town; the Municipal Aid and the Asylum of + the Little Sisters of the Poor. + </p> + <p> + The Municipal Aid had its own property and was wisely organized; the old + people were permitted to go out of the asylum, they had no uniform, and + from time to time they were allowed to drink a glass of something. In the + Little Sisters’ Home, on the contrary, discipline was most severe; all the + inmates had to go dressed in a horrible uniform, which the poor hated; to + be present, like a chorus, at the funerals of important persons; pray at + every step; and besides all that, they were forbidden under pain of + expulsion, to smoke or to drink anything. + </p> + <p> + So the result was that there were abandoned old wretches, who, if they + couldn’t get a place in the Aid, let themselves die in some corner, rather + than put on the uniform of the Little Sisters’ Home, degrading in their + eyes. + </p> + <p> + That asylum had no income, because its Catholic managers had eaten it all + up. In view of the institution’s bad economic condition, it occurred to + Father Martin to consolidate the two; to make one asylum of the municipal + and the religious, and to put it under the strict rule of the religious + one. What Father Martin wanted was that the Little Sisters should have a + finger in the whole thing, and that the income of one institution should + serve for both. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar threatened the mayor with dismissal if he accepted the arrangement, + and insisted that the Liberal councilmen should not permit the fusion, + which was to the great advantage of the Clerical party. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact, the plan came to nothing, and Cæsar treated the + Municipal Aid to two barrels of wine and tobacco in abundance, which + aroused great enthusiasm among the old people, who cheered for the Deputy + of their District. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar rode over the situation on horseback; but the Clerical campaign + strengthened at the same rate that popular sympathies went out toward him. + In almost every sermon there were allusions to the immorality and the + irreligion that reigned in the town. The support of the women was sought + and they were exhorted to influence their husbands, brothers, and sons to + resign from the Workmen’s Club. + </p> + <p> + The old pulpit oratory began to seem mild, and on the feast of the Virgin + of the Rock, a young preacher launched out, in the church, into an + eloquent, violent, and despotic sermon in which he threatened eternal + suffering to those who belonged to heretical clubs and would not return to + the loving bosom of the Church. The homily caused the greatest impression, + and there were a few unhappy mortals who, some days later, were reported + as dead or missing at the Workmen’s Club. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. AMPARITO IN ACTION + </h2> + <h3> + <i>LAURA AT CASTRO</i> + </h3> + <p> + A time for new elections arrived, and Cæsar stood for Castro Duro. Don + Calixto, who had married his two daughters and was bored at not being + allowed to pull the strings in the town, decided to move to Madrid. First + he had thought of spending only some time at the capital, but later he + decided to stay there and he had his furniture sent down. + </p> + <p> + People said that Don Calixto had no great affection for the old palace of + the Dukes of Castro, and Cæsar proposed that he should rent the house to + him. + </p> + <p> + Don Calixto hesitated; in Castro he would certainly have refused, but + being in Madrid he accepted. His wife advised him that if he had any + scruples, he should ask more rent. They came to the agreement that Cæsar + should pay three thousand pesetas a year for the part Don Calixto had + formerly inhabited. + </p> + <p> + This time Cæsar had the election won, and there was not the slightest + fight. He was the boss of Castro, a good boss, accepted by everybody, save + the Clericals. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had money, and he wrote to his sister to come and see him at Castro + in his seigniorial mansion. Laura arrived at Madrid in the autumn, and the + two went to Castro together. + </p> + <p> + Laura’s appearance in the town created a great sensation. At first people + said she was Cæsar’s wife. Others said she was an actress; until finally + everybody understood that she was his sister. + </p> + <p> + Laura really took undue advantage of her superiority. She was irresistibly + amiable and bewitching with everybody. The majority of the men in Castro + Duro talked of nothing but her, and the women hated her to the death. + </p> + <p> + Being a marchioness, a Cardinal’s niece, and a Deputy’s sister, gave her, + besides, a terrible social prestige. + </p> + <p> + One person who clung to her, enchanted to have such a friend, was + Amparito. She went to the palace in her motor at all hours, to see Laura + and chat with her. In the afternoon the two of them used to walk in + Amparito’s father’s property, where the labourers, who were threshing, + received them like queens. + </p> + <p> + What enchanted Laura was the wild garden at Don Calixto’s house, with its + pomegranates and laurels, its tower above the river, full of climbing + plants and oleanders. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to buy this house,” she used to tell Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “It would cost a good deal.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! You could arrange that wonderfully. You would get married and live + here like a prince.” + </p> + <p> + “Get married?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. To Amparito. That young thing is enchanting. + </p> + <p> + “She will make a splendid little wife. Even for your respectability as a + Deputy, it would be fitting to marry. A bachelor politician has a poor + look.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar paid no attention to these suggestions and continued to lead an + unsocial life. He covered the environs on horseback, found out everything + that was going on and settled it. In this he set himself an enormous task, + which was not notable for results; but he hoped to succeed in conquering + the district completely, and then to extend his sphere of action to others + and yet others. + </p> + <p> + After being a fortnight in Castro Duro, Laura went to Biarritz, as was her + custom every year. + </p> + <p> + AMPARITO AND CÆSAR + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was left alone. He had seen Amparito with his sister many times but + had scarcely ever exchanged more than a few words with her. One afternoon + Cæsar was in the gallery in an arm-chair, with his feet high. He felt + melancholy and lazy, and was watching the clouds move across the sky. Soon + he heard steps, and saw Amparito with an old servant who had been her + nurse. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar jumped up. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter?” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “I came to get something Laura forgot,” said Amparito. + </p> + <p> + “She forgot something?” asked Cæsar stupidly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Amparito; and added, addressing the old woman: + </p> + <p> + “Go see if there is a little glass box in Señorita Laura’s room.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman went out, and Amparito, looking at Cæsar, who was on his + feet watching her nervously, said: + </p> + <p> + “Do you still hate me?” + </p> + <p> + “I?” exclaimed Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you do hate me.” + </p> + <p> + “I! I have never hated you.... Quite the contrary.” + </p> + <p> + “Whenever you see me you get away, and just now you looked at me as if you + were terrified. Have you such a grudge against me for a joke I played on + you long ago?” + </p> + <p> + “I, a grudge! No. It is because I have the impression, Amparito, that you + want to upset my plans, to make game of me. Why do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I try to amuse myself by worrying you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “No, that isn’t true. You don’t think so.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why this constant inclination to distress me, to poke fun at me?” + </p> + <p> + “I never poked fun at you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I have made a mistake.... I had come to think that you took some + interest in me.” + </p> + <p> + “And so I did. I did take an interest in you, and I keep on taking an + interest in you.” + </p> + <p> + “And why so?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I see that you are unhappy, and you are alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You are sorry for me!” “Now you are offended. Yes, I am sorry for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sorry. Because I see that you despise everybody and despise + yourself, because you think people are bad, and that you are too, and to + me this seems so sad that it makes me pity you deeply.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar began to walk up and down the gallery, trembling a little. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see why you say this to me,” he murmured. “I am a morbid man, + with an ulcerated, wounded spirit.... I know that. But why say it to me? + Do you take pleasure in humiliating me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Cæsar,” said Amparito, drawing near him. “You don’t believe that I + take pleasure in humiliating you. No, you know well that I do not.” + </p> + <p> + On saying this, Amparito burst into tears, and she had to lean against the + gallery window, to hide her face and dissemble her emotion. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar took her hand, and as she did not turn her head, he seized her + other, too. She looked at him with her eyes shining and full of tears; and + in that look there was so much attachment, so much distress, that Cæsar + felt a weakness in his whole frame. Then, taking Amparito’s head between + his hands, he kissed it several times. + </p> + <p> + She leaned her head on Cæsar’s shoulder and stood pressed against him, + sobbing. Cæsar felt a sensation of anguish and pain, as if within the + depths of his soul, the strongest part of his personality had broken and + melted. + </p> + <p> + They heard the footsteps of the old woman, coming back to say that she had + found nothing in the room Laura had occupied during her stay. + </p> + <p> + Amparito dried her tears, and smiled, and her face was redder than usual. + Presently she said to the nurse: + </p> + <p> + “Probably you didn’t look well. I am going to go myself.” + </p> + <p> + Amparito went out. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was pale and absorbed; he felt that something extraordinary had + happened to him. His hands trembled and things swam around him. + </p> + <p> + In a short while Amparito returned. She had a round glass box in her hand, + which she said she had found in Laura’s room. + </p> + <p> + “This afternoon I am going to Our Lady of the Rock,” said Amparito. “Will + you come, Cæsar?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, good-bye till then.” + </p> + <p> + Amparito gave him her hand, and Cæsar kissed it. The old servant was + dumfounded. Amparito burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + “He is my beau. Hadn’t you noticed it before?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the old woman with a gesture of violent negation. + </p> + <p> + Amparito laughed again and disappeared. + </p> + <p> + The first days of his engagement Cæsar was constantly in-tranquil and + uneasy. He kept thinking that it was impossible to live like that, giving + his whole attention to nothing except the desires of a girl. He imagined + that the awakening would come from one moment to the next; but the + awakening didn’t arrive. + </p> + <p> + By degrees Cæsar abandoned all the affairs of the district, which had + taken all his attention, and took to occupying himself solely with his + sweetheart. The whole town knew their relations and talked of the coming + wedding. + </p> + <p> + That dazzling idyll intrigued all the girls in Castro. The truth was that + none of them had considered Cæsar a marrying man; some had imagined him + already old; others an experienced and vicious bachelor, incapable of + yielding to the matrimonial yoke; and now they saw him a youth, of + distinguished type, with distinguished manners and looks. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar went almost daily to Amparito’s father’s country-place. It was a + magnificent estate, another ancient property of the Dukes of Castro Duro, + with a house adorned with escutcheons, and an extensive stone pool, deep + and mysterious. The garden did not resemble that at Don Calixto’s house, + for that one was of a frantic gaiety, and the one on Amparito’s father’s + estate was very melancholy. Above all, the square of water in the pool, + whose edges were decorated with great granite vases, had a mysterious, sad + aspect. + </p> + <p> + “Doesn’t it make you very sad to look at this deep water in the pool?” + Cæsar asked his fiancée. + </p> + <p> + “No, it doesn’t me.” + </p> + <p> + “It does me.” + </p> + <p> + “Because you are a poet,” she said, “and I am not; I am very prosaic.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + The more Cæsar talked with Amparito, the less he understood her and the + more he needed to be with her. + </p> + <p> + “We really do not think the same about anything,” Cæsar used to tell + himself, “and yet we understand each other.” + </p> + <p> + Many times he endeavoured to make a psychological résumé of Amparito’s + character, but he didn’t succeed. He didn’t know how to classify her; her + type always escaped him. + </p> + <p> + “All her notions are different from mine,” he used to think; “she speaks + in another way, feels in another way, she even has a different moral code. + How strange!” + </p> + <p> + Also, what Amparito knew was completely heterogeneous; she spoke French + well and wrote it fairly correctly; in Spanish, on the other hand, she had + no idea of spelling. Cæsar was always stupefied on seeing the + transpositions of h’s, s’s, and z’s that she made in her letters. + </p> + <p> + There remained by Amparito, from her passage through the French school, a + recollection of the history of France made up of a few anecdotes and a few + phrases. Thus, it was not unusual to hear her speak of Turenne, of Francis + I, or of Colbert. For the rest, she played the piano badly enough and with + extremely little enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + This was the part belonging to her education as a rich young lady; that + which belonged to the country girl, who lived among peasants, was more + curious and personal. + </p> + <p> + She knew many plants by their vulgar names, and understood their + industrial and medicinal use. Besides, she spoke in such pure, natural + phrases that Cæsar was filled with admiration. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had reached such a degree of exaltation that he thought of nothing + any more, except his sweetheart. At night, before going to sleep, he + thought of her deliriously. He often dreamed that Amparito had changed + into the red-flowered oleander of the wild palace garden, and in every + flower of the oleander he used to see Amparito’s red lips and white teeth. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0040" id="link2H_4_0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. INTRANSIGENCE LOST + </h2> + <h3> + DISQUIET DISAPPEARS + </h3> + <p> + The wedding took place and Cæsar had to compromise about a lot of things. + It didn’t trouble him to confess and receive communion; he considered + those mere customs, and went to the church of the Plain to conform to + these practices with the old priest who was a friend of Amparito’s. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, it did bother Cæsar to have to suffer Father Martin in + his house, who allowed himself to talk and give advice; and he was also + irritated by the presence of certain persons who considered themselves + aristocrats and who came to call on him and point out to him that it was + now time to give up the rabble and the indigent and to rise to their + level. + </p> + <p> + If he had not had so much to think about as he did have, he would have + found this a good chance to show his aggressive humour; but all his + attention was fixed on Amparito. + </p> + <p> + The newly married pair spent the first days of their honeymoon at Castro; + then they went to Madrid, with the intention of going abroad, and + afterwards they went back to the town. + </p> + <p> + The old palace of the Dukes of Castro was witness to their idyll. + </p> + <p> + At the end of some time Cæsar felt tranquil, perhaps too tranquil. + </p> + <p> + “This, no doubt, is what is called being happy,” he used to say to + himself. And being happy gave him the impression of a limbo; he felt as + though his old personality was dying within him. He could no longer + recover his former way of life; all his disquietudes had vanished. He felt + that he was balanced, lacking those alternations of courage and cowardice + which had previously formed the characteristic thing in him. It was the + oasis after the desert; the calm that follows the storm. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar wondered if he had acquired new nerves. His instinct to be arbitrary + was on the downward track. + </p> + <p> + He could not easily determine what role his wife played in his inner life. + He felt the necessity of having her beside him, of talking to her; but he + did not understand whether this was mere selfishness, for the sake of the + soothing effect her presence produced, or was for the satisfaction of his + vanity in seeing how she gave all her thought to him. + </p> + <p> + Spiritually he did not feel her either identified with him or strange to + him; her soul marched along as if parallel to his, but in other paths. + </p> + <p> + “All that men say about women is completely false,” Cæsar used to think, + “and what women say about themselves, equally so, because they merely + repeat what men say. Only when they are completely emancipated will they + succeed in understanding themselves. It is indubitable that we have not + the same leading ideas, or the same points of view. Probably we have not a + similar moral sense either. Neither is woman made for man, nor man for + woman. There is necessity between them, not harmony.” + </p> + <p> + Many times, watching Amparito, he told himself: + </p> + <p> + “There is some sort of machinery in her head that I do not understand.” + </p> + <p> + Noting his scrutinizing gaze, she would ask him: + </p> + <p> + “What are you thinking about me?” + </p> + <p> + He would explain his perplexities, and she would laugh. + </p> + <p> + SYMPATHY + </p> + <p> + Indubitably, there existed an instinctive accord of the sentiments between + Amparito and him, an organic sympathy. She could feel for them both, but + he could not think for them both; each mental machine ran in isolation, + like two watches, which do not hear each other. She knew whether Cæsar was + sad or joyful, disheartened or spirited, merely by looking at him. She had + no need to ask him; she could read Cæsar’s face. He could not, on his + side, understand what went on behind that little forehead and those moist + and sparkling eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Are you feeling happy? Are you feeling sad?” he would ask her. He could + not reach the point of knowing by himself. + </p> + <p> + “I never succeed in knowing what you want,” he sometimes said to her, + bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you always succeed,” she used to reply. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar often wondered if the rôle of being so much loved, whether wrong or + right, was an absurd, offensive thing. In all great affections there is + one peculiarity; if one loves a person, one gets to the point of changing + that person to an idol inside oneself, and from that moment it seems that + the person divides into the unreal idol, which is like a false picture of + the adored one, and the living being, who resembles the idolized object + very slightly. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar found something absurd in being loved like that. Besides, he found + that she was dragging him away from himself. After six months of marriage, + she was making him change his ideas and his way of life, and he was having + absolutely no influence on her. + </p> + <p> + Previously he had often thought that if he lived with a woman, he should + prefer one that was spiritually foreign to him, who should look on him + like a rare plant, not with one that would want to identify herself with + his tastes and his sympathies. + </p> + <p> + With a somewhat hostile woman he would have felt an inclination to be + voluble and contradictory; with a sympathetic woman, on the contrary, he + would have seemed to himself like a circus runner whom one of his pupils + is trying to overtake, and who has to run hard to keep the record where it + belongs. + </p> + <p> + But his wife was neither one nor the other. + </p> + <p> + Amparito had an extraordinary insouciance, gaiety, facility, in accepting + life. Cæsar never ceased being amazed. She spent her days working, + talking, singing. The slightest diversion enchanted her, the most + insignificant gift aroused a lively satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Everything is decided, as far as you are concerned,” Cæsar used, to tell + her. + </p> + <p> + “By what?” + </p> + <p> + “By your character.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed at that. + </p> + <p> + It seemed as if she had chosen the best attitude toward life. She saw that + her husband was not religious, but she considered that an attribute of + men, and thought that God must have an especial complacency toward + husbands, if only so as not to leave wives alone in paradise. + </p> + <p> + Amparito held by a fetichistic Catholicism, conditioned by her situation + in life, and mixed with a lot of heterodox and contradictory ideas, but + she didn’t give any thought to that. + </p> + <p> + The marriage was very successful; they never had disputes or discussions. + When both were stubborn, they never noticed which one yielded. + </p> + <p> + They had rented one rather big floor facing on the Retiro, and they began + to furnish it. + </p> + <p> + Amparito had bad taste in decoration; everything loud pleased her, and + sometimes when Cæsar laughed, she would say: + </p> + <p> + “I know I am a crazy country girl. You must tell me how to fix things.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar decided the arrangement of a little reception-room. He chose a light + paper for the walls, some coloured engravings, and Empire furniture. + Female friends found the room very well done. Amparito used to tell them: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Cæsar had it done like this,” as if that were a weighty argument + with everybody. + </p> + <p> + Amparito and her father persuaded Cæsar that he ought to open an office. + All the people in Castro lamented that Cæsar did not practise law. + </p> + <p> + He had always felt a great repugnance for that sharpers’ and skinflints’ + business; but he yielded to please Amparito, and set up his office and + took an assistant who was very skillful in legal tricks. Cæsar was often + to be found writing in the office, when Amparito opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to come here a moment?” she would say. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Look and see how this hat suits me. How do you like it?” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar would laugh and say: + </p> + <p> + “I think you ought to take off the flowers, or it ought to be smaller.” + </p> + <p> + Amparito accepted Cæsar’s suggestions as if they had been, articles of + faith. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, on his part, had a great admiration for his wife. What strength for + facing life! What amazing energy! + </p> + <p> + “I walk among brambles and leave a piece of my clothing on every one of + them,” thought Cæsar, “and she passes artlessly between all obstacles, + with the ease of an ethereal thing. It’s extraordinary!” + </p> + <p> + It pleased Amparito to be thus observed. + </p> + <p> + Her husband used to tell her: + </p> + <p> + “You have, as it were, ten or twelve Amparitos inside of you; it often + seems to me that you are a whole round of Amparitos.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you are not more than one Cæsar to me.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s because I have the ugly vice of talking and of being + consequential.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t I talk?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in another way.” + </p> + <p> + <i>DOUBT</i> + </p> + <p> + In the spring they went to Castro, and the members of the Workmen’s Club + presented themselves before Cæsar to remind him of a project for a + Co-operative and a School, which he had promised them. They were all ready + to put up what was necessary for realizing both plans. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar listened to them, and although with great coldness, said yes, that + he was ready to initiate the scheme. A few days later, in Dr. Ortigosa’s + <i>Protest</i>, there was enthusiastic talk of the Great Co-operative, + which, when established, would improve, and at the same time cheapen + necessary articles. + </p> + <p> + The same day that the paper came out with this news, a commission of the + shopkeepers of Castro waited on Cæsar. The scheme would ruin them. It was + especially the small shopkeepers that considered themselves most injured. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar replied that he would think it over and decide in an equitable + manner, looking for a way to harmonize the interests of all people. Really + he didn’t know what to do, and as he had no great desire to begin new + undertakings, he wanted to call the Co-operative dead, but Dr. Ortigosa + was not disposed to abandon the idea. + </p> + <p> + “It is certain that if goods are made cheaper,” said the doctor, “and the + Co-operative is opened to the public, the shopkeepers will have to fight + it, and then either they or we shall be ruined; but something else can be + done, and that is to sell articles to the public at the same price as the + tradesmen, and arrange it that members get a dividend from the profits of + the society. In that way there will be no fight, at any rate not at + first.” + </p> + <p> + They tried to do it that way, but it did not satisfy the poor people, or + calm the shopkeepers. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, who had lost his lust for a fight, put the scheme aside; and + although it would cost him more, decided to have the construction of the + school begun. + </p> + <p> + The Municipality ceded the lot and granted a subsidy of five thousand + pesetas to start the work; Cæsar gave ten thousand, and at the Workmen’s + Club a subscription was opened, and performances were given in the theatre + to collect funds. + </p> + <p> + The school promised to be a spacious edifice with a beautiful garden. The + corner-stone was laid in the presence of the Governor of the Province, and + despite the fact that the founders’ intention was to found a lay school, + the Clerical element took part in the celebration. + </p> + <p> + When the work began, the majority of the members of the Club were shocked + to find that the masons, instead of working on the same conditions as for + other jobs, asked more pay, as if the school where their sons might study + were an institution more harmful than beneficial for them. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar, on learning this, smiled bitterly and said: + </p> + <p> + “They are not obliged to be less of brutes than the bourgeoisie.” + </p> + <p> + From Madrid Cæsar continued sending maps for the school, engravings, + bas-reliefs, a moving-picture machine. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Ortigosa and his friends went every day to look over the work. + </p> + <p> + A year from the beginning of work, the boys and girls’ school was opened. + Dr. Ortigosa succeeded in arranging that two of the three male teachers + they procured were Free-Thinkers. One of them, a poor man who had lived a + dog’s life in some town in Andalusia, was reputed to be an anarchist. They + appointed three female teachers too, two old, and one young, a very + attractive and clever girl, who came from a town near Bilboa. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar took part in the opening, and spoke, and received enthusiastic + applause. Despite which, Cæsar felt ill at ease among his old friends; in + his heart he knew that he was deserting them. He now thought it unlikely, + almost impossible, that that town should succeed in emerging from + obscurity and meaning something in modern life. Moreover, he doubted about + himself, began to think that he was not a hero, began to believe that he + had assigned himself a role beyond his powers; and this precisely at the + moment when the town had the most faith in him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0041" id="link2H_4_0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. “DRIVELLER” JUAN AND “THE CUB-SLUT” + </h2> + <p> + <i>A MURDER</i> + </p> + <p> + “Driveller” Juan, the town dandy protected by Father Martín, had from + childhood distinguished himself by his cowardice and by his tendency to + bullying. His appearance was that of an idiot; people said he drivelled; + whence they gave him the nickname of “Driveller” Juan. He lived by + pretending to be terrible in the gambling houses, and bragged of having + been in prison several times. + </p> + <p> + The Clericals had made “Driveller” the janitor of the Benevolent Society, + and at the same time its bully, so that he could inspire terror; but as he + was a coward in reality, and this was evident, he did not succeed in + terrifying the members of the Workmen’s Club. + </p> + <p> + “Driveller” Juan was tall, red-headed, with high cheek bones, knotty + hands, and a pendulous lip; his father, like him, had been bony and + strong, and for that reason had been called “Big Bones.” + </p> + <p> + “Driveller,” like the coward he was, knew that he was not filling his job; + one day he had dared to go to a ball at the Workmen’s Club, and San Román, + the old Republican, had gone to him and tapped him on the arm, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Listen here, ‘Driveller,’ get out right now and don’t you come back.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you are not wanted.” + </p> + <p> + Juan had gone away like a whipped dog. “Driveller” wanted to do a manly + action, and he did it. + </p> + <p> + There was a boy belonging to the Workmen’s Club, who was called “Lengthy,” + one of the few type-setters in the town, a clever, facetious lad who now + and then wrote an article for <i>The Protest</i>. + </p> + <p> + “Driveller” insisted that “Lengthy” wanted to make fun of him. No doubt he + chose him for his victim, because he was so slim, lanky, and weak; perhaps + he had some other reason for attacking him. One afternoon, at twilight, + “Driveller” halted “Lengthy,” demanded an explanation, insulted him, and + on finding his victim made no reply, gave him a blow. The street was wet, + and “Driveller” stepped on a fruit-skin and fell headlong. Seeing the + bully infuriated, “Lengthy” started to run, came to an open door, and ran + rapidly up the stairs. “Driveller,” furious, ran after him. Pursued and + pursuer went down a hallway and “Lengthy” managed to reach a door and + close it. “Driveller’s” revengeful fury was not satisfied; he lay in wait + until “Lengthy,” believing himself alone, tried to escape from his + hiding-place and was walking down the hall, and then “Driveller” drew his + pistol and fired with the mouth against “Lengthy’s” shoulder, and left him + dead. As it was a rainy day, both the dead man’s footsteps and the + murderer’s could be followed and everything that had happened ascertained. + </p> + <p> + The impression produced in the town by this assassination was enormous. + Some people said that Father Martin and his followers had ordered + “Lengthy” killed. In the Workmen’s Club there was talk of setting fire to + the Benevolent Society of Saint Joseph and of burning the monastery of la + Peña. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was in Madrid at the time of the crime. Some days later a committee + from the Club came to see him; it was necessary to have a charge pushed + and for Cæsar to be the private attorney. + </p> + <p> + According to the Club people, the Clericals wanted to save “Driveller” + Juan, and if he was not disposed of completely, he would begin his + performances again. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar could see nothing for it but to accept the duty which the town put + upon him. + </p> + <p> + Because of the crime, the history of “Driveller’s” family came to be + public property. He had a mother and two sisters who were seamstresses, + whom he exploited, and he lived with a tavern-keeper nicknamed “The + Cub-Slut,” a buxom, malicious woman, who said horrible things about + everybody. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <i>LIFE OF “THE CUB-SLUT”</i> + </p> + <p> + There were reasons for “The Cub-Slut’s” being what she was. Her parents + being dead when she was a baby, having no relatives she had been left + deserted. A farrier they called “Gaffer,” who seemed to have been a kind + person, took in the infant and brought her up in his house. It was + “Gaffer” who had given the nickname to the child, because instead of + calling her by her name, he used to say: + </p> + <p> + “Hey, ‘Cub-Slut!’ Hey, little ‘Cub-Slut!’” and the appellation had stuck. + </p> + <p> + When the girl was fourteen, “Gaffer” ravished her, and afterwards, being + tired of her, took her to a house of prostitution in the Capital and sold + her. “The Cub-Slut” left the brothel to go and live with an old innkeeper, + who died and made her his heiress. Six years later she went back to + Castro. Those that had seen her come back maintained that when she reached + the town and was told that “Gaffer” had died a few months before, she + burst into tears; some said it was from sentiment, but others thought, + very plausibly, that it was from rage at not being able to get revenge. + “The Cub-Slut” set up a tavern at Castro. + </p> + <p> + “Driveller” and “The Cub-Slut” got along well, although, by what any one + could discover, “The Cub-Slut” treated the bully more like a servant than + anything else. + </p> + <p> + “The Cub-Slut” was said to be very outspoken. One Sunday, on the + promenade, she had answered one of the young ladies of Castro rudely. The + young lady was the daughter of a millionaire, who had married after having + several children by a mistress of pretty bad reputation. The millionaire’s + children had been educated in aristocratic schools, and his girls were + very elegant young ladies; even the mother got to be refined and polished. + One Sunday, on the promenade, one of them, on passing near “The Cub-Slut,” + said in a low tone to her mother: + </p> + <p> + “Dear Lord, what riff-raff!” + </p> + <p> + And “The Cub-Slut,” hearing her, stopped and said violently: + </p> + <p> + “There’s no riff-raff here except your mother and me. Now you know it.” + </p> + <p> + The young lady was so upset by the harsh retort that she didn’t leave the + house again for a long while. + </p> + <p> + Such rude candour on “The Cub-Slut’s” part had made her feared; so that + nobody durst provoke her in the slightest degree. Besides, her history and + her misfortune were known and people knew that she was not a vicious + woman, but rather a victim of fate. + </p> + <p> + The assassination of “Lengthy” was one of those events that are not + forgotten in a town. “Lengthy” was the son of “Gaffer,” “The Cub-Slut’s” + protector, and some people imagined that she had persuaded “Driveller” to + commit the crime; but the members of the Workmen’s Club continued to + believe that it was a case of clerical revenge. + </p> + <p> + <i>“THE CUB-SLUT’S” ARGUMENT</i> + </p> + <p> + In the month of June, Cæsar and Amparito went to Castro Duro. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon when Cæsar was alone in the garden, a very buxom woman + appeared before him, wearing a mantilla and dressed in black. + </p> + <p> + “I came in without anybody seeing me,” she said. “Your porter, ‘Wild + Piglet,’ let me pass. I know that Amparito is not here.” + </p> + <p> + She didn’t say “Your wife,” or “Your lady,” but “Amparito.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me what you want,” said Cæsar, looking at the woman with a certain + dread. + </p> + <p> + “I am the woman that lives with ‘Driveller’ Juan.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You are...?” “Yes. ‘The Cub-Slut.’” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar looked at her attentively. She was of the aquiline type seen on + Iberian coins, her nose arched, eyes big and black, thin-lipped mouth, and + a protruding chin. She noticed his scrutiny, and stood as if on her guard. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, if you will, please, and tell me what you wish.” + </p> + <p> + “I am all right,” she replied, continuing to stand; then, precipitately, + she said, “What I want is for them not to punish Juan more than is just.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe he will be punished unjustly,” responded Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “The whole town says that if you speak against him in court, the + punishment will be heavier.” + </p> + <p> + “And you want me not to speak?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s it.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me to be asking too much. I shall do no more than insist that + they punish him justly.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no way to get out of it?” + </p> + <p> + “None.” + </p> + <p> + “If you wanted to... I would wait on you on my knees afterwards, I would + make any sacrifice for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you so fond of the man?” + </p> + <p> + “The Cub-Slut” answered in the negative, by an energetic movement of her + head. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, what do you expect to get out of him?” + </p> + <p> + “I expect revenge.” + </p> + <p> + “The Cub-Slut’s” eyes flashed. + </p> + <p> + “Is what they say about you true?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “The dead boy was the son of the man that sold you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “But to revenge oneself on the son for the sin of the father is horrible.” + </p> + <p> + “The son was just as wicked as the father.” + </p> + <p> + “So that you ordered him killed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did.” + </p> + <p> + “And you come and tell that to me, when I am to be the private attorney.” + “Have them arrest me. I don’t care.” + </p> + <p> + “The Cub-Slut” stood firm before Cæsar, provocative, with flashing eyes, + in an attitude of challenge. + </p> + <p> + “You hated that dead boy so much as this?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, him and all his family.” + </p> + <p> + “I can understand that if the father were alive, you might...” + </p> + <p> + “If he were alive! I would give my life to drag him out of his tomb, so as + to make him suffer as much as he made me suffer.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar vaguely remembered the story he had heard about this woman, whose + adopted father had ruined her and then left her in a disreputable house in + the Capital. In general, the most absolute lack of apprehension + characterizes such village tragedies, and neither does the victim know she + is a victim, nor the villain that he is a villain. + </p> + <p> + But in this case, judging by what “The Cub-Slut” was telling him, it had + not been so; “Gaffer” had gone about it with a certain depravity, glutting + his desires on her, and then selling her, putting her into an infamous + house. The villain had been cruel and intelligent; the victim had realized + that she was one, to the degree that her soul was filled with desires for + vengeance. + </p> + <p> + “That man,” “The Cub-Slut” ended, sobbing, “took away my name and gave me + a nickname; took away my honour, my life, everything; and if I cannot be + revenged on him because he is dead, I will be revenged on his family.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar listened attentively to the woman’s explanation, without + interrupting her. Then, when she had finished speaking, he said: + </p> + <p> + “And why not go away?” + </p> + <p> + “Away? Where?” she asked, astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Anywhere. The world is so big! Why do you persist in living in the one + spot where people know you and have a bad opinion of you? Go away from + here. There are countries with more generous sentiments than these old + corners of the world. You do not consider yourself infamous or vile.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no.” + </p> + <p> + “Then go away from here. To America, to Australia, anywhere. Perhaps you + can reconstruct your life. At any rate, nobody will call you by your + nickname; nobody will talk familiarly to you. You will conquer or you will + be conquered in the struggle for life. That’s evident. You will share the + common lot, but you will not be vilified. Do go.” + </p> + <p> + “The Cub-Slut” listened to Cæsar with eyes cast down. When he ceased, she + stood looking at him intently, and then, without a word, she disappeared. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. PITY, A MASK OF COWARDICE + </h2> + <h3> + <i>THE MOTHER</i> + </h3> + <p> + Some days later Cæsar was in his office, when a thin old woman, dressed in + black, shot in, crossed the room, and fell on her knees before him. Cæsar + jumped up in disgust. + </p> + <p> + “What’s this? What’s going on here?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Amparito entered the room and explained what was going on. The old woman + was “Driveller” Juan’s mother. People had told Juan’s mother that the only + obstacle to her son’s salvation from death was Cæsar, and she had come to + implore him not to let them condemn Juan to death. + </p> + <p> + “My poor son is a good boy,” moaned the old creature; “a woman made him + commit the crime.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar listened, silent and gloomy, without speaking, and then left the + room. Amparito remained with the old woman, consoling her and trying to + quiet her. + </p> + <p> + That night Amparito returned to the task, and dragged the promise from her + husband that he would not act as private attorney at the trial. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar was ashamed and saddened; he didn’t care to go to see anybody; he + was committing treason against his cause. + </p> + <p> + “Pity will finish my work or finish me,” thought Cæsar, walking about his + room. “That poor old woman is worthy of compassion; that is undeniable. + She believes her son is a good boy, and he really is a low, cowardly + ruffian. I ought not to pay any attention to this plea, but insist on + their condemning that miserable wretch to death. But I haven’t any more + energy; I haven’t any more strength. I can feel that I am going to yield; + the mother’s grief moves me, and I do not consider that if this bully goes + free, he is going to turn the town upside down and ruin all our work. I am + lost.” + </p> + <p> + <i>FLIGHT</i> + </p> + <p> + Cæsar confided to his wife that he was daunted; his lack of courage was a + nightmare to him. + </p> + <p> + Amparito said that they ought to take a long trip. Laura had invited them + to come to Italy. It was the best thing they could do. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar accepted her solution, and, as a matter of fact, they went to Madrid + and from there to Italy. + </p> + <p> + The Workmen’s Club telegraphed to Cæsar when the time for the trial came, + and Amparito answered the telegram from Florence, saying that her husband + was ill. + </p> + <p> + Never had Cæsar felt so agitated as then. He bought the Spanish + newspapers, and expected to find in some one of them the words: “Señor + Moncada is a coward,” or “Señor Moncada is a sorry creature and a + traitor.” + </p> + <p> + When they knew that judgment had been pronounced and Juan condemned to + eight years in the penitentiary, they returned to Madrid. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar felt humiliated and ashamed; he did not dare show himself in Castro. + The congratulations that some people sent him on the restoration of his + health made his cheeks hot with shame in the solitude of his office. + </p> + <p> + The editor of a newspaper in the Capital of the Province came to call on + Cæsar, who was so dispirited that he confided to his visitor that he was + ready to retire from politics. Two days later Cæsar saw a big headline on + the first page of the Conservative newspaper of the Capital, which said: + “Moncada is about to retire.” + </p> + <p> + Amparito applauded her husband’s decision, and Cæsar made melancholy plans + for the future, founded on the renunciation of all struggle. + </p> + <p> + A few days later Cæsar received a letter from Castro Duro which made him + quiver. It was signed by Dr. Ortigosa, by San Román, Camacho, the + apothecary, and the leading members of the Workmen’s Club. The letter was + in the doctor’s handwriting. It read thus: + </p> + <p> + “Dear Sir: We have read in the newspaper from the Capital the announcement + that you are thinking of retiring from politics. We believe this + announcement is not true. We cannot think that you, the champion of + liberty in Castro Duro, would abandon so noble a cause, and leave the town + exposed to the intrigues and the evil tricks of the Clericals. There is no + question in this of whether it would suit you better to retire from + politics, or not. That is of no importance. There is a question of what + would suit our country and Liberty better. + </p> + <p> + “If because of the seductions of an easy life, you should withdraw from us + and desert us, you would have committed the crime of lèse-civilization; + you would have slain in its flower the re-birth of the spiritual and civic + life of Castro. + </p> + <p> + “We do not believe you capable of such cowardice and such infamy, and + since we do not believe you capable of it, we beg you to come to Castro + Duro as soon as possible to direct the approaching municipal elections.—Dr. + Ortigosa, Antonio San Román, José Camacho.” + </p> + <p> + On reading this letter Cæsar felt as if he had been struck with a whip. + Those men were correct; he had no right to retire from the fight. + </p> + <p> + This conviction supported him. + </p> + <p> + “I have to go to Castro,” he said to Amparito. + </p> + <p> + “But didn’t you say that...?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but it is impossible.” + </p> + <p> + Amparito realized that her husband’s decision was final, and she said: + </p> + <p> + “All right; let us go to Castro.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0043" id="link2H_4_0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII. FIRST VICTORY + </h2> + <p> + The Conservatives had come into power; the time to change the town + government was approaching. It was customary at Castro, as in all rural + districts in Spain, that in a period of Liberal administration the + majority of the councillors elected should be Liberal, and at a time of + Conservative government, they should be Conservative. + </p> + <p> + The former Liberal, García Padilla, had gone over to the Conservative + camp, and one was now to see whether he would get his friends into the + Municipality so as to prepare for his own election as Deputy later. + </p> + <p> + It was the first time there was going to be a real election at Castro + Duro. Moncada’s candidates were almost all persons of good position. Dr. + Ortigosa and a Socialist weaver figured among the candidates, as + representing the revolutionary tendency. The Liberals felt and showed an + unusual activity and anxiety. Cæsar started a newspaper which he named + Liberty, Dr. Ortigosa was the soul of this paper, whose doctrines ran from + Liberal Monarchy to Anarchy, inclusive. As the election drew nearer, the + agitation increased. + </p> + <p> + In the two electoral headquarters established by Moncada’s party, the + coming and going never stopped; some enthusiastic Moncadists came to + headquarters every fifteen minutes, to bring rumours going about and to + get news. + </p> + <p> + Don So-and-So had said this; Uncle What’s-His-Name was thinking of doing + that; it was nothing but conferences and machinations. The painter had + painted for them gratis a big poster expressing cheers for Liberty, for + Moncada, Dr. Ortigosa, and the Liberal candidates. The café keeper brought + chairs, without any one’s asking him; somebody else brought a brasier for + the clerks; everybody was anxious to do something. The stock phrase, an + electoral battle, was not for them a political commonplace but a reality. + The most trivial things served as a motive for very long discussions. Such + was their identification with the Idea, that it succeeded in wiping out + selfish ends. They all felt honoured and enthusiastic, at least while it + lasted. + </p> + <p> + People dreamed of the election. + </p> + <p> + When Cæsar arrived at the electoral headquarters, it was always a series + of exclamations, of embracing, of advice, that never ended. + </p> + <p> + “Don Cæsar, such a thing is... Don Cæsar, don’t trust So-and-So.” + </p> + <p> + “We must get rid of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Not one of them ought to be left.” + </p> + <p> + He used to smile, because finding himself really loved by the people had + cleansed him of his habitual bitterness and his loss of spirits. When he + had finished receiving recommendations and congratulations, he would go to + an inside room, and there, in the company of a candidate or a secretary, + would read letters and arrange what they had to do. + </p> + <p> + The most active of the candidates was Dr. Ortigosa. + </p> + <p> + Ortigosa was a narrow-minded, tenacious man. His chief hatred was for + Catholicism and he directed all his attacks at the religion of his + forefathers, as he ironically termed it. + </p> + <p> + He had founded a Masonic lodge, named the “Microbe,” and whose principal + characteristic was anti-Catholicism. + </p> + <p> + Ortigosa carried his propaganda everywhere. He stopped at every corner to + speechify, to talk of his plans. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar used his motor-car to go about among the villages in the district. + They would go to four or five and talk from balconies, or very often from + the car, like itinerant patent-medicine venders. + </p> + <p> + In the little villages these reunions produced a great effect. What was + said served as a topic of conversation for a month. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar had developed a clear, insinuating eloquence. He knew how to explain + things admirably. Padilla’s followers were not asleep; but, as was + natural, they took up the work in another way. They went from shop to + shop, making the shopkeepers see the harmfulness of the Moncadist + politics, promising them advantages. They threatened workmen with + dismissal. There was no great enthusiasm; their campaign was less noisy, + but, in part more certain. + </p> + <p> + All the Liberal element of Castro was wrought up, from the temperate + Liberals, who remembered Espartero, to the Anarchists. “Whiskers” and + “Furibis” were the only ones who got together in a tavern to talk about + bombs and dynamite, and one could be sure that neither of them was capable + of anything. Those two had nothing more to do with Ortigosa, considering + him a deserter. + </p> + <p> + “You are imbeciles,” the doctor told them, with his habitual fury. “This + fight is waking the people up. They are beginning to show their instincts, + and that makes a man strong. The longer and more violent this fight is, + the better; progress will be so much quicker.” + </p> + <p> + “Agitation, agitation is what we need,” cried the doctor; and he himself + was as agitated as a man condemned. + </p> + <p> + The Liberals won a great victory; they obtained eight places out of ten + vacancies. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0044" id="link2H_4_0044"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII. DECLARATION OF WAR + </h2> + <p> + The new city government of Castro was the most extraordinary that could be + imagined. Dr. Ortigosa presented motions which caused the greatest + astonishment and stupefaction, not only in the town, but in the whole + province. He conceived magnificent plans and extravagant ideas. He asked + to have the teaching system changed, religious festivals suppressed and + other ones instituted, property abolished, public baths installed, and + that Castro Duro should break with Rome. + </p> + <p> + The doctor was a creature born to succeed those revolutionary eagle-men, + like Robespierre and Saint Just, and condemned to live in a miserable + chicken-yard. + </p> + <p> + One day when Cæsar was working in his office, he was astounded to see + Father Martin enter. + </p> + <p> + Father Martin greeted Cæsar like an old acquaintance; he had come to ask + him a favour. Suspicious, Cæsar prepared to listen. After speaking of the + business that had brought him, the friar began to criticize the + town-government of Castro and to say that it was a veritable mad-house. + </p> + <p> + “Your friends,” said the priest, smiling, “are unrestrained. They want to + change everything in three days. Dr. Ortigosa is a crazy man....” + </p> + <p> + “To my mind, he is the only man in Castro that deserves my estimation.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “This demoniac says that for him traditions have no value whatsoever.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I think the same thing,” said Cæsar. “Are you anti-historic?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely. Tradition has no value for me either.” + </p> + <p> + “The basis of tradition,” answered the friar, arguing like a man who + carries the whole of human knowledge in the pocket of his habit, “is the + confidence we all have in the experience of our predecessors. Whether I be + a labourer or a pastor, even though I have lived fifty years, I may have + great experience about my work and about life, but it will never be so + great as the united experience of all those who have preceded me. Can I + scorn the accumulation of wisdom that past generations hand down to us?” + </p> + <p> + “If you wish me to tell you the truth, for me your argument has no + weight,” answered Cæsar coldly. + </p> + <p> + “No?” + </p> + <p> + “No. It is undeniable that there is a sum of knowledge that comes from + father to son, from one labourer to another, and from one pastor to + another. But what value have these rudimentary, vague experiences, + compared to the united experience of all the men of science there have + been in the world? It is as if you told me that the stock of knowledge of + a quack was greater and better than that of a wise physician.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not talking,” answered the Father, “of pure science. I am talking of + applied science. Is one of your universal savants going to occupy himself + with the way of sowing or of threshing in Castro?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He has already occupied himself with it, because he has occupied + himself with the way of sowing or threshing in general, and, what is more, + with the variations in the processes that may be occasioned by the kind of + soil, the climate, etc.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you believe that such scientific pragmatism can be substituted for + the natural pragmatism born of the people’s loins, created by them through + centuries and centuries of life?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That is to say, I believe it can purify it; that it can cast out of + this pragmatism, as you call it, all that is wrong, absurd, and false and + keep what good there may be.” “And for you the absurd and false is + Catholic morality.” + </p> + <p> + “It is.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not willing to discuss whether Catholicism is true or is a lie; + you consider it a ruinous doctrine which produces decadence. I have been + told that you have stated that on various occasions.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true. I have said so.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we do not agree. Catholicism is useful; Catholicism is efficient.” + </p> + <p> + “For what? For this life?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “No. Pshaw! It may be useful when it comes to dying? Where there is + Catholicism there is ruin and misery.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, there is no misery in Belgium.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly there is none, but in that country Catholicism is not what it + is in Spain.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it isn’t,” exclaimed the friar, shouting, “because what + characterizes Spanish Catholicism is Spain, poverty-stricken, fanatic + Spain, and not the Catholicism.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not believe we are going to understand each other,” replied Cæsar; + “what seems a cause to me is an effect for you.... Besides, we are getting + away from the question. To you Castro’s moral and intellectual state seems + good, does it not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, to me it seems horrifying. Sordid vice, obscure adultery; gambling, + bullying, usury, hunger... You think it ought to keep on being just as it + was before I was Deputy for the District. Do you not?” + </p> + <p> + “I do.” + </p> + <p> + “That I have been a disturbance, an enemy to public tranquillity.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, this state of things that you find admirable, seems to me bestially + fanatical, repugnantly immoral, repulsively vile.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, for you are a pessimist about things as they are, like any + good revolutionist. You believe that you are going to improve life at + Castro. You alone?” “I, united with others.” + </p> + <p> + “And meanwhile you introduce anarchy into the city.” + </p> + <p> + “I introduce anarchy! No. I introduce order. I want to finish with the + anarchy already reigning in Castro and make it submit to a thought, to a + worthy, noble thought.” + </p> + <p> + “And by what right do you arrogate to yourself the power to do this?” + </p> + <p> + “By the right of being the stronger.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Good. If you should get to be the weaker, you ought not to complain + if we should misuse our strength.” + </p> + <p> + “Complain! When you have been misusing it for thousands of years! At this + very moment, we do the talking, we make the protests, but you people give + the orders.” + </p> + <p> + “We offset your idiotic behaviour. We stand in the way of your utopias. Do + you think you are going to solve the problem of this earth, and that of + Capital? Are you going to solve the sexual question? Are you going to + institute a society without inequality or injustice, as Dr. Ortigosa said + in <i>La Libertad</i> the other day? To me it seems very difficult.” + </p> + <p> + “To me too. But that is what there is to try for.” + </p> + <p> + “And when will you attain so perfect an arrangement, so great a harmony, + as the Catholic, created in twenty centuries? When?” + </p> + <p> + “We shall attain a different, better harmony.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally. That is just what the pagans might have said to the + Christians; and perhaps with reason, because Christianity, compared to + paganism, was a retrogression.” + </p> + <p> + “That point we cannot discuss,” said Father Lafuerza, getting up. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar got up too. + </p> + <p> + “In spite of all this, I admire you, because I believe you are sincere,” + said Father Martin. “But I believe you to be dangerous and I should be + happy to get you out of Castro.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel the same way about you, and I should also be happy to get you out + of here, as an unwholesome element.” + </p> + <p> + “So that we are open, loyal enemies.” “Loyal! Pshaw! We are ready to do + each other all the harm possible.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part, yes, and in any way,” announced the priest with energy. + </p> + <p> + “I, too,” Cæsar answered; and he raised the curtain of the office door. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t disturb yourself,” said Father Martin. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s no trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Regards to Amparito.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + The friar hesitated about going out, as if he wanted to return to the + attack. + </p> + <p> + “Afterwards, if you repent...” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not repent,” Cæsar coldly replied. + </p> + <p> + “I will drink peace to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if I submit. I will drink peace to you too, if I submit.” + </p> + <p> + “You are going to play a dangerous game.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be no less dangerous for you than for me.” + </p> + <p> + “You are playing for your head.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! We will play for it and win it.” + </p> + <p> + The friar bowed, and smiling in a forced manner, left the house. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0045" id="link2H_4_0045"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX. THE FIGHT FOR THE ELECTION + </h2> + <p> + The Conservatives at Castro Duro were ready to commit the greatest + outrages and the most arbitrary acts so as to win by any methods. + </p> + <p> + It was known that a committee consisting of García Padilla, Father Martín + Lafuerza, and two Conservative councillors had gone to the Minister of the + Interior to beg that Cæsar’s victory might be prevented by whatsoever + means. + </p> + <p> + “It is necessary that Don Cæsar Moncada should not be elected for the + District,” said Father Martín. “If he is, the town will remain subjected + to a revolutionary dictatorship. All the Conservative classes, the + merchants, the religious communities, fervently hope that Moncada will not + be made Deputy.” + </p> + <p> + The committee of Castrians visited other high personages, and they must + have attained their object, because the municipal government was suspended + a few days later, the Workmen’s Club closed, the judge transferred, the + Civil Guard was reinforced, and a police inspector of the worst + antecedents was detailed to Castro as commissioner of elections. + </p> + <p> + The Governor of the Province, a political enemy of Cæsar’s, was a personal + friend of his. + </p> + <p> + “For your sake I am ready to lose my future,” he had said to him, “but as + for your followers, there is nothing left for me to do but knock them over + the head.” + </p> + <p> + <i>La Libertad</i>, Cæsar’s newspaper, made a very violent campaign + against García Padilla. Ortigosa succeeded in finding out that Padilla had + been tried for embezzlement, and he published that fact. The <i>Castro + News</i>, on its side, insulted Cæsar and called him a crooked speculator + on the exchange, an upstart, and an atheist. + </p> + <p> + The rapidity and violence of the Government’s methods produced an effect + of fear on lukewarm Liberals; on the other hand, it moved the decided ones + to show themselves all the more courageous and rash. + </p> + <p> + Moncada’s party almost immediately took on a revolutionary character. The + lodge, “The Microbe,” was at work, and the most radical arrangements + started there. It suited the Government and the Conservatives to have the + Moncada party take this demagogic character. The commissioner had + contaminating persons come on from the Capital for the purpose of sowing + discord in the Workmen’s Club. + </p> + <p> + These suspicious persons, directed by one they called “Sparkler,” used to + gather in the taverns to corrupt the workmen and the peasants, carrying on + a propaganda that was anarchistic in appearance, but in reality + anti-liberal. + </p> + <p> + “They are all the same,” they used to say; “Liberals and Conservatives are + not a bit different.” + </p> + <p> + The drunkards and vagabonds were in their glory during those days, eating + and drinking. Nobody knew for certain where the money came from, but + everybody could make certain that it flowed profusely. + </p> + <p> + At the same time the commissioner had the most prominent workmen of the + Club arrested and brought suit against them on ridiculous accusations. + </p> + <p> + <i>THE MEETING</i> + </p> + <p> + The Liberals tried to hold a manifestation in protest, but the + commissioner and the mayor prohibited it. + </p> + <p> + The newspaper <i>La Libertad</i> explained what was going on, and was + reprimanded. + </p> + <p> + A meeting was organized at the school; the governor had granted + permission. + </p> + <p> + The school was not lighted, and Cæsar sent a man to the Capital for + acetylene lamps, which were put up on the walls, and which made a + detestable smell. The reunion took place at nine at night. Cæsar presided, + and had San Román, the bookseller, on his right, and Dr. Ortigosa on his + left. + </p> + <p> + Behind them on a bench were some of the members of the Workmen’s Club. + </p> + <p> + The audience was composed of the poorest people; the rich Liberal element + was drawing back; there were day-labourers with blankets around their + shoulders and mouths, women in shawls holding children in their arms. + Among the audience were the <i>agents provocateurs</i> who doubtless had + the intention of making a disturbance; but the Republican bookseller + ordered them thrown out of the place, and, despite their resistance, he + managed to have it done. + </p> + <p> + The chief of police, insolent and contemptuous, took his seat at the table + with an officer of the Civil Guard in civilian’s, who was there, he said, + to take notes. + </p> + <p> + San Román, the bookseller, gave Cæsar a paper with the names of those who + were going to speak. They were many, and Cæsar didn’t know them. + </p> + <p> + The first to whom he gave the floor, in the order of the list, was a lame + boy, who came forward on a crutch, and began to speak. + </p> + <p> + The boy expressed himself with great enthusiasm and admirable candour. + </p> + <p> + “Who is this youngster?” Cæsar asked San Román. + </p> + <p> + “He is the best pupil in our school. We call him ‘Limpy.’ He comes of a + very poor family. He came to the school a year ago, knowing nothing, and + see him now. He says, and I think he is right, that if he keeps on + studying, he will be an eminent man.” + </p> + <p> + The audience applauded everything “Limpy” said, and when he finished they + hailed him with shouts and cheers. As he went back to his seat, Cæsar and + San Román shook his hand effusively. + </p> + <p> + <i>STAND FAST, FELLOW CITIZENS!</i> + </p> + <p> + After “Limpy,” various orators spoke, in divers keys: “Furibis,” “Uncle + Chinaman,” “Panza,” San Román, a weaver, a railway employee, and Dr. + Ortigosa. The last-named let loose, and launched into such violent terms + that the audience shouted in horrified excitement. Cæsar’s speech + recommended firmness, and caused scarcely any reaction. The note had been + given by “Limpy,” with his ingenuousness and his appealing quality, and by + the doctor with the violence of his words. + </p> + <p> + The next day the Governor’s commissioner gave orders to close the school, + and Dr. Ortigosa and San Román were taken to jail. + </p> + <p> + <i>POLITICAL TRICKS</i> + </p> + <p> + It was impossible to carry on a campaign of popular agitation, and Cæsar + decided to open a headquarters for propaganda next door to each voting + place. + </p> + <p> + Meetings in the villages had been suppressed, because at the least alarm, + or even without any motive, the chief of police, with members of the Civil + Guard, went in among the people and dispersed them by shoving and by + pounding rifles on their feet. + </p> + <p> + The newspapers couldn’t say anything without being immediately reported + and suspended. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar sent no telegrams of protest, but he kept at work silently. He was + thinking of using all weapons, including even trickery and bribes. + </p> + <p> + García Padilla and the Government agents found this proceeding even more + dangerous than the former. Cæsar offered twenty dollars to anybody that + would give information of any electoral sharp practices which could be + proved. The week of the election he and his friends did not rest. + </p> + <p> + At one of the polls in Carrascal, where Cæsar had a majority, the tile + bearing the house-number had been changed by night. The real voters had to + wait to cast their votes in one place, and meanwhile the urn was being + filled with ballots for the Government candidate at another place. + </p> + <p> + In the hamlet of Val de San Gil, another trick was tried; the polling + place was established in a hay-loft to which one went up by a ladder. + While the villagers were waiting for the ladder to be set up, the urn was + being filled. When the ladder was put into place and the voters went up + one by one, they found that they had all voted already. As the ladder was + narrow, they had to go up singly, and it was not likely they would have + ventured to protest. Besides, there were a number of ruffians in the + place, armed with sticks and pistols, who were ready to club or to shoot + any one protesting. + </p> + <p> + In spite of all, Cæsar had the election won, always supposing that the + Government did not carry things to the limit; but at the last moment he + learned that more Civil Guards were going to come to Castro, and that the + Government agents had orders to prevent Moncada’s victory by any method. + </p> + <p> + In the evening on Saturday, Cæsar was told that the commissioner was in a + tavern, with others of the police, giving out ballots for illegal voters. + Cæsar went there alone, and entered the tavern. + </p> + <p> + The commissioner, on seeing him, grew confused. + </p> + <p> + “I know what you are doing,” said Cæsar. “Be careful, because it may cost + you a term in prison.” + </p> + <p> + “You are the one that may have to pay by going to prison,” replied the + inspector. + </p> + <p> + “Just try to arrest me, you poor fool, and I’ll shoot your head off!” + </p> + <p> + The police inspector jumped up from the table where he was seated, and, as + he went out, he let one of the ballots fall. Cæsar looked over the men who + were with the police inspector; one of them was “Sparkler.” Some days + before he had come to Moncada’s headquarters to offer to work for him, and + he was the director of the contaminating persons sent to Castro by the + Government. + </p> + <p> + A CLANDESTINE MEETING + </p> + <p> + When he returned to the headquarters, they told him there was a meeting in + “Furibis’s” tavern at nine that night. Cæsar got there a little later than + the time set. The place was gloomy, and had some big earthen jars in it. + They had put a table at the back of this cave, and an acetylene light + illuminated it. + </p> + <p> + Those present formed a semicircle around the table. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar knocked at the tavern, and they opened the door to him; a workman + who was speaking delayed his peroration, and they waited until Cæsar had + reached the table and got seated. The atmosphere was suffocating. + Everything was closed so that the Civil Guards would not see the light + through the windows and suspect that there was a meeting being held there. + The workmen were, for the most part, masons, weavers, brickmakers. There + were women there with their little ones asleep in their bosoms. The air + one breathed there was horrible. It looked like a gathering of desperate + people. They had learned that their arrested comrades had been beaten in + the prison, and that San Román and Dr. Ortigosa were in the infirmary as a + result. + </p> + <p> + <i>EULOGY OF VIOLENCE</i> + </p> + <p> + The excitement among those present was terrible. “Limpy” was the most + strenuous; he was in favour of their all going out that moment and + storming the jail. + </p> + <p> + When they had all spoken, Cæsar got up and asked them to wait. If he won + the election the next day, he promised them that the prisoners should be + freed immediately; if he did not win and the prisoners remained there... + </p> + <p> + “Then what is to be done?” said a voice. + </p> + <p> + “What is to be done? I am in favour of violence,” answered Cæsar; “burning + the jail, setting fire to the whole town; I am ready for anything.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment he really did think he had been too lenient. + </p> + <p> + “Man’s first duty is to break the law,” he shouted, “when it is a bad law. + Everything is due to violence and war. I will go to the post of danger + this very second, whenever you wish. Shall we storm the jail? Let’s go + right now.” + </p> + <p> + This storming of the jail didn’t seem an easy thing to the others. One + might try to climb down the hill and surprise the prison guards, but it + would be difficult. According to “Furibis,” the best thing would be for + ten or twelve of them to go out into the street with guns and pistols and + shoot right and left. + </p> + <p> + At this disturbance the Civil Guard would come out, and that would be the + moment for the others to enter the jail and drag the prisoners out into + the street. + </p> + <p> + Some one else said that it seemed better to him for them to approach the + Civil Guards’ quarters cautiously, kill the sentinels, and take possession + of the rifles. + </p> + <p> + “Decide,” said Cæsar; “I am ready for anything.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar’s attitude made the excited ones grow calmer and understand that it + was not so easy to storm the jail. + </p> + <p> + It was about eleven when the meeting at the tavern ended. They had decided + to wait and see what would happen the next day, and they left the place + one by one. + </p> + <p> + “We will escort you, Don Cæsar,” several of them said. + </p> + <p> + “No. What for?” + </p> + <p> + “Remember there are people who might attack you. ‘Driveller’ Juan is at + large in Castro.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “That bully can’t do anything to me.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <i>AT NIGHT</i> + </p> + <p> + Cæsar went out of the tavern, pulled down his hat, and wrapped himself in + his cape. He had not brought the motor, to avoid being recognized. It was + a cloudy night, but still and beautiful. + </p> + <p> + Before they got out of the town a small boy came up to Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “‘The Cub-Slut’ sent me to tell you to come to her house; she wants to + speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “No. You must come now, because what she has to say is very important,” + shouted the youngster. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can’t go now.” + </p> + <p> + The youngster protested, and Cæsar continued on his way. “Limpy” and + “Uncle Chinaman” followed him. Cæsar was walking in the middle of the + highway, when, about half way home, a man on the run passed him. No doubt + he was going to give some signal. + </p> + <p> + “Limpy” and “Chinaman” shouted over and over: + </p> + <p> + “Don Cæsar! Don Cæsar!” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar halted, and “Chinaman” and “Limpy” ran up to him. + </p> + <p> + “What’s going on?” asked Cæsar. + </p> + <p> + “They are lying in wait for you,” said “Limpy.” “Didn’t you see a man go + past running?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “We are going to stay with you. We will sleep at your house,” said + “Chinaman,” “and if they attack us, we will defend ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + He showed a pistol which he carried in his sash. + </p> + <p> + The three walked on together, and as they passed a little grove in front + of the palace, a shadow passed by, crawling, and fled away. + </p> + <p> + “He was there,” said “Chinaman.” + </p> + <p> + They went into the house. Amparito, with the old nurse, was praying before + a lighted image. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0046" id="link2H_4_0046"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX. CONFIDENCE + </h2> + <h3> + <i>YES, HE IS THE HERO</i> + </h3> + <p> + When he got up, Cæsar found a lot of letters and notices from his + followers all over the district, giving him pointers. + </p> + <p> + With the help of a manservant who used to go about with him, he himself + got the motor ready and prepared to visit the polls. + </p> + <p> + As he got into the car, the youngster of the night before appeared with a + letter. + </p> + <p> + “From ‘The Cub-Slut’; please read it right away.” + </p> + <p> + “Give it to me; I will read it.” + </p> + <p> + “She told me you were to read it right away.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, man, yes.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar took the letter and put it distractedly into his pocket. The motor + started and Cæsar did not read the note. At eight in the morning he was on + his way to Cidones. The polls had been established legally. + </p> + <p> + It was raining gently. As he drew near Cidones, the sun appeared. The + river was turbid and mud-coloured. Thick grey fog-clouds were rolling + about the plain; when they gathered below the hill where Cæsar stood, they + gave it the appearance of an island in the middle of the sea. From the + chimneys of the town the smoke came out like hanks of spun silver, and + bells were ringing through this Sunday morning calm. + </p> + <p> + Cæsar stopped at an inn which was a little outside the town. The + blacksmith, an old Liberal, came out to receive him. The old man had been + suffering with rheumatism for some while. “How goes it?” Cæsar asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Very well. I have been to vote for you.” + </p> + <p> + “And your health?” + </p> + <p> + “Now that spring is coming, one begins to get better.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is true,” said Cæsar; “I hadn’t noticed that the trees are in + bloom.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, they are out. In a little while we shall have good weather. It’s + a consolation for old folks.” + </p> + <p> + Cæsar took leave of the blacksmith and got into the motor. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <i>CÆSAR! CÆSAR!</i> + </p> + <p> + “Yes, spring is in flower,” said Cæsar. “I will remove all the obstacles + and men’s strength will come to life, which is action. This town, then + others, and finally all Spain.... May nothing remain hidden or closed up; + everything come to life, out into the sunlight. I am a strong man; I am a + man of iron; there are no obstacles for me. The forces of Nature will + assist me. Cæsar! I must be Cæsar!” + </p> + <p> + The automobile began to move in a straight line toward Castro. + </p> + <p> + The ground on both sides of the highway fled away rapidly. + </p> + <p> + The automobile lessened its pace at the foot of the hill, and began to + climb. + </p> + <p> + It went in by an old gate in the wall, which was called the Cart Gate. + </p> + <p> + The street of the same name, a street in the poor suburb, was narrow and + the houses low; it was paved with cobbles. A little farther along several + lanes formed a crossroads. + </p> + <p> + This was a quarter of brothels and of gipsies who made baskets. + </p> + <p> + When he reached the crossroads, in the narrowest part there was a cart + blocking the street. The automobile stopped. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter?” asked Cæsar, standing up. + </p> + <p> + At that moment two shots rang out, and Cæsar fell wounded into the bottom + of the car. The chauffeur saw that the discharges came from the low + windows of a loom, and backing the motor, he returned rapidly, passed out + the Cart Gate, at risk of running into it, went down to the highway, and + drove at high speed to Cæsar’s house. + </p> + <p> + A moment later “Driveller” Juan and “Sparkler” came out of the loom and + disappeared down a lane. The judge who went to take depositions learned + from the chauffeur that Cæsar had received a letter as he was getting into + the car. He had the wounded man’s clothes searched, and they found “The + Cub-Slut’s” letter, in which she warned Cæsar of the danger he was in. + Fate had kept Cæsar from reading it. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <i>THE RED FLAG</i> + </p> + <p> + The news that Cæsar was seriously wounded ran through the town like a + train of powder. + </p> + <p> + A movement of terror shook everybody. “Limpy,” “Furibis,” and the other + hysterical ones gathered at the tavern and agreed to set fire to the + monastery of la Peña. “Furibis” had arms in his house and divided them + among his comrades. A woman fastened a red rag to a stick, and they left + Castro by different paths and met opposite Cidones. + </p> + <p> + Nine of them went armed, and various others followed behind. + </p> + <p> + On reaching Cidones, one of the party advanced up the lane and saw two + pairs of Civil Guards. They discussed what they had better do, and the + majority were in favour of going into Moro’s inn, which was at the + entrance to the town, and waiting until night. + </p> + <p> + They did go in there and told Moro what they had just done. The inn-keeper + listened with simulated approval, and brought them wine. This Moro was not + a very commendable party; he had been convicted for robbery several times + and had a bad reputation. + </p> + <p> + While the revolutionists were drinking and talking, Moro stole out without + any one’s noticing, and went to see the chief of the Civil Guard, and told + him what was going on. “They are armed, then?” asked the chief. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And how many are they?” + </p> + <p> + “Nine with arms.” + </p> + <p> + “We are only five. Do you want to do something?” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “At dusk we will pass by the inn. I will knock. And you shall say to them: + ‘Here is the chief of the Civil Guard; hide your arms.’ They will hide + them, and we will arrest them.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I get something for doing this favour?” asked Moro. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally.” + </p> + <p> + “What will they give me?” + </p> + <p> + “You will see.” + </p> + <p> + The ruse worked as they had plotted it; Moro played the comedy to + perfection. + </p> + <p> + On learning that the chief of the Civil Guard wanted to come in, the + revolutionists, on the landlord’s advice, left their arms in the next + room. At the same instant the window panes burst to bits and the soldiers + of the Civil Guard fired three charges from close up. Two women and four + men fell dead; the wounded, among whom was “Limpy,” were taken to the + hospital, and only one person was lucky enough to escape. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <i>FATE</i> + </p> + <p> + At the chief headquarters of Moncada’s followers, a strange phenomenon was + noticed; on the preceding days they had been chock full; that night there + were not over ten or a dozen men from the Workmen’s Club collected by a + table lighted by a petroleum lamp. The pharmacist, Camacho, presided. + </p> + <p> + The news of the election was worse every minute. At the last hour the + Padillists, knowing that Moncada was wounded, were behaving horribly. In + the polls at Villamiel the tellers had fled with the blank ballots, and + the Conservative boss arranged the outcome of the election from his house. + </p> + <p> + As the teller from Santa Inés, who was a poor Liberal school-master, was + on his way from the hamlet with the papers, six men had seized him, had + snatched the returns from him, changed all the figures, and sent them to + the municipal building at Castro full of blots. + </p> + <p> + They had fired over twenty shots at the teller for Paralejo. Many of + Moncada’s emissaries, on knowing that Cæsar was wounded and his campaign + going badly, had passed over to the other party. + </p> + <p> + Only Moncada could have rallied that flight. His most faithful gave one + another uneasy looks, hoping some one would say: “Come along!” so that + they could all have gone. Camacho alone kept up the spirits of the + meeting. + </p> + <p> + At nine o’clock at night the chief of police entered the headquarters, + accompanied by two Civil Guards. + </p> + <p> + “Close up here, please,” said the inspector. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked the pharmacist. + </p> + <p> + “Because I order you to.” + </p> + <p> + “You have no right to order that.” + </p> + <p> + “No? Here, get out, everybody, and <i>you</i> are under arrest.” + </p> + <p> + Those present took to their heels; the pharmacist went to jail to keep San + Román and Ortigosa company, and the Club was shut up.... + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The election was won by Padilla. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0047" id="link2H_4_0047"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXI. OUR VENERABLE TRADITIONS! OUR HOLY PRINCIPLES! + </h2> + <p> + The banquet in honour of Padilla was given at the Café del Comercio. All + the important persons of the town, many of whom had been Cæsar’s adherents + the day before, had gathered to feast the victor. The majority gorged + enthusiastically, the chief of police distinguishing himself by his hearty + applause. A fat lawyer presided, a greasy person with a black beard, a + typical coarse, dirty, tricky Moor. Next to him sat a small attorney, + pock-marked, pale of face. By dessert one no longer heard anything but + cries of “Hurrah for Padilla!” among the smoke of the big cigars they were + all smoking. + </p> + <p> + Then the lawyer with the black beard arose and began to orate. + </p> + <p> + He spoke slowly and with great solemnity. + </p> + <p> + “This meeting shows,” he said in a strong and sonorous voice, “your + enthusiasm and your loyalty for the good cause. Never, never will we + permit outsiders devoid of religion and patriotism to upset the existence + of our beloved city.” (Applause.) “We will defend our venerated traditions + by all the means in our power; we will not permit the hydra of anarchy to + rise up in Castro; and if it should arise to attack our holy principles, + we shall crush it under our heels.” (Applause.) “When men turn their backs + on God, when they preach the relaxation of discipline, and licentiousness, + when they are not willing to acknowledge any authority, divine or human, + then it is time for decent men to form a bulwark with their breasts, for + the defence of their traditions. We are, before all else, Catholics and + Spaniards; and we will not consent to having Anarchists, Masons, + sacrilegious persons get the mastery of this sacred soil, and wipe out its + memories, and spot the most holy rights of our mother, the Church.” + (Ovation.) + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah for Jesus Christ and His Immaculate Church!” shouted a priest, a + bit upset by his wine, in a raucous voice. + </p> + <p> + Next, the fat, greasy lawyer paraded all the glories of Spain, with their + appropriate adjectives: the Cid, Columbus, Isabella the Catholic, the + Great Captain, Hernán Cortés.... Then a couple of dozen orators spoke, and + the meeting ended very late at night. + </p> + <p> + CASTRO DURO TODAY + </p> + <p> + Today Castro Duro has definitely abandoned her intentions of living, and + return to order, as the weekly Conservative paper says; the fountains have + dried, the school been closed, the little trees in Moncada Park have been + pulled up. The people emigrate every year by hundreds. Today a mill shuts + down, tomorrow a house falls in; but Castro Duro continues to live with + her venerated traditions and her holy principles, not permitting outsiders + devoid of religion and patriotism to disturb her existence, not spotting + the most holy rights of the Church, our mother; enveloped in dust, in + dirt, and in filth, asleep in the sun, in the midst of her grainless + fields. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0048" id="link2H_4_0048"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII. FINIS GLORIÆ MUNDI. <i>FROM A SOCIETY COLUMN</i> + </h2> + <p> + To be in Castro Duro and not visit Don Cæsar Moncada’s house is a + veritable crime of <i>lèse-art</i>. Señor Moncada, who is a most + intelligent person, has gathered in his aristocratic residence a + collection of precious things, old pictures, antiques, sculptures of the + XV and XVI Centuries, badges of the Inquisition. Señor Moneada has made a + conscientious study of the primitive Castilian painters, and is certainly + the person most at home in that line. + </p> + <p> + His most beautiful wife, who is also a distinguished artist, has aided him + in forming this collection, and they have both gone about by automobile + through all the towns in this province and the neighbouring ones, + collecting everything artistic they found. + </p> + <p> + At Don Cæsar’s house we had the pleasure of greeting the learned + Franciscan Father Martin, to whom the population of Castro Duro owes so + much. + </p> + <p> + At a halt in the conversation we asked Señor Moncada: + </p> + <p> + “And you, Don Cæsar, have no idea of going back into politics?” + </p> + <p> + And he answered us, smiling: + </p> + <p> + “No, no. What for? I am nothing, nothing.” + </p> + <p> + THE END <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cæsar or Nothing, by Pío Baroja Baroja + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CÆSAR OR NOTHING *** + +***** This file should be named 8444-h.htm or 8444-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/4/4/8444/ + +Produced by Eric Eldred, David Widger, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Caesar or Nothing + +Author: Pio Baroja + +Release Date: July, 2005 [EBook #8444] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on July 11, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-Latin-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAESAR OR NOTHING *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, David Widger, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + +CAESAR OR NOTHING + +by PO BAROJA + +_translated from the Spanish by_ + +LOUIS HOW + + + + +CONTENTS + +PROLOGUE + +PART ONE + +ROME + +I THE PARIS-VENTIMIGLIA EXPRESS +II AN EXTRAORDINARY FAMILY +III CAESAR MONCADA +IV PEOPLE WHO PASS CLOSE BY +V THE ABBE PRECIOZI +VI THE LITTLE INTERESTS OF THE PEOPLE IN A ROMAN HOTEL +VII THE CONFIDENCES or THE ABBE PRECIOZI +VIII OLD PALACES, OLD SALONS, OLD LADIES +IX NEW ACQUAINTANCES +X A BALL +XI A SOUNDING-LINE IN THE DARK WORLD +XII A MEETING ON THE PINCIO +XIII ESTHETICS AND DEMAGOGY +XIV NEW ATTEMPTS, NEW RAMBLES +XV GIOVANNI BATTISTA, PAGAN +XVI THE PORTRAIT OF A POPE +XVII EVIL DAYS +XVIII CAESAR BORGIA'S MOTTO, "AUT CSAR, AUT NIHIL" +XIX CAESAR'S REFLECTIONS +XX DON CALIXTO AT SAINT PETER'S +XXI DON CALIXTO IN THE CATACOMBS +XXII SENTIMENTALITY AND ARCHEOLOGY +XXIII THE 'SCUTCHEON OF A CHURCH +XXIV TOURIST INTERLUDE + + +PART TWO + +CATRO DURO + +I ARRIVAL +II CASTRO DURO +III CAESAR'S LABOURS +IV THE BOOKSELLER AND THE ANARCHISTS +V THE BANQUET +VI UNCLE CHINAMAN +VII A TRYING SCENE +VIII THE ELECTION +IX CAESAR AS DEPUTY +X POLITICAL LABOURS +XI THE PITFALL OF SINIGAGLIA +XII LOCAL STRUGGLES +XIII AMPARITO IN ACTION +XIV INTRANSIGENCE LOST +XV "DRIVELLER" JUAN AND "THE CUB-SLUT" +XVI PITY, A MASK OF COWARDICE +XVII FIRST VICTORY +XVIII DECLARATION OF WAR +XIX THE FIGHT FOR THE ELECTION +XX CONFIDENCE +XXI OUR VENERABLE TRADITIONS I OUR HOLY PRINCIPLES! +XXII FINIS GLORIAE MUNDI + + + + +PROLOGUE + +THE AUTHOR HOLDS FORTH IN REGARD TO THE CHARACTER OF HIS HERO + +MORE OR LESS TRANSCENDENTAL DIGRESSIONS + + +The individual is the only real thing in nature and in life. + +Neither the species, the genus, nor the race, actually exists; they are +abstractions, terminologies, scientific devices, useful as syntheses +but not entirely exact. By means of these devices we can discuss and +compare; they constitute a measure for our minds to use, but have no +external reality. + +Only the individual exists through himself and for himself. I am, I +live, is the sole thing a man can affirm. + +The categories and divisions arranged for classification are like the +series of squares an artist places over a drawing to copy it by. The +lines of the squares may cut the lines of the sketch; but they will cut +them, not in reality but only in the artist's eye. + +In humanity, as in all of nature, the individual is the one thing. Only +individuality exists in the realm of life and in the realm of spirit. + +Individuality is not to be grouped or classified. Individuality simply +cannot fit into a pigeon-hole, and it is all the further from fitting if +the pigeon-hole is shaped according to an ethical principle. Ethics is a +poor tailor to clothe the body of reality. + +The ideas of the good, the logical, the just, the consistent, are too +generic to be completely represented in nature. + +The individual is not logical, or good, or just; nor is he any other +distinct thing; and this through the force of his own fatal actions, +through the influence of the deviation in the earth's axis, or for +whatsoever other equally amusing cause. Everything individual is +always found mixed, full of absurdities of perspective and picturesque +contradictions,--contradictions and absurdities that shock us, because +we insist on submitting individuals to principles which are not +applicable to them. + +If instead of wearing a cravat and a bowler hat, we wore feathers and a +ring in our nose, all our moral notions would change. + +People of today, remote from nature and nasal rings, live in an +artificial moral harmony which does not exist except in the imagination +of those ridiculous priests of optimism who preach from the columns +of the newspapers. This imaginary harmony makes us abhor the +contradictions, the incongruities of individuality, at least it forces +us not to understand them. + +Only when the individual discord ceases, when the attributes of an +exceptional being are lost, when the mould is spoiled and becomes +vulgarized and takes on a common character, does it obtain the +appreciation of the multitude. + +This is logical; the dull must sympathize with the dull; the vulgar and +usual have to identify themselves with the vulgar and usual. + +From a human point of view, perfection in society would be something +able to safeguard the general interests and at the same time to +understand individuality; it would give the individual the advantages of +work in common and also the most absolute liberty; it would multiply the +results of his labour and would also permit him some privacy. This would +be equitable and satisfactory. + +Our society does not know how to do either of these things; it defends +certain persons against the masses, because it has injustice and +privilege as its working system; it does not understand individuality, +because individuality consists in being original, and the original is +always a disturbing and revolutionary element. + +A perfect democracy would be one which, disregarding hazards of birth, +would standardize as far as possible the means of livelihood, of +education, and even the manner of living, and would leave free the +intelligence, the will, and the conscience, so that they might take +their proper places, some higher than others. Modern democracy, on the +contrary, tends to level all mentalities, and to impede the predominance +of capacity, shading everything with an atmosphere of vulgarity. At the +same time it aids some private interests to take their places higher +than other private interests. + +A great part of the collective antipathy for individuality proceeds from +fear. Especially in our Southern countries strong individualities have +usually been unquiet and tumultuous. The superior mob, like the lower +ones, does not wish the seeds of Caesars or of Bonapartes to flourish in +our territories. These mobs pant for a spiritual levelling; for there is +no more distinction between one man and another than a coloured button +on the lapel or a title on the calling-card. Such is the aspiration of +our truly socialist types; other distinctions, like valour, energy, +virtue, are for the democratic steam-roller, veritable impertinences of +nature. + +Spain, which never had a complete social system and has unfolded her +life and her art by spiritual convulsions, according as men of strength +and action have come bursting forth, today feels herself ruined in her +eruptive life, and longs to compete with other countries in their love +for the commonplace and well-regulated and in their abhorrence for +individuality. + +In Spain, where the individual and only the individual was everything, +the collectivist aspirations of other peoples are now accepted as +indisputable dogmas. Today our country begins to offer a brilliant +future to the man who can cry up general ideas and sentiments, even +though these ideas and sentiments are at war with the genius of our +race. + +It would certainly be a lamentable joke to protest against the +democratic-bourgeois tendency of the day: what is is, because it must be +and because its determined moment has come; and to rebel against facts +is, beyond dispute, childish. + +I merely mention these characteristics of the actual epoch; and I point +them out to legitimatize this prologue I have written, which, for what I +know, may after all give more clearness, or may give more obscurity to +my book.... BROTHER AND SISTER + +Many years ago I was stationed as doctor in a tiny Basque town, in +Cestona. Sometimes, in summer, while going on my rounds among the +villages I used to meet on the highway and on the cross-roads passersby +of a miserable aspect, persons with liver-complaint who were taking the +waters at the neighbouring cure. + +These people, with their leather-coloured skin, did not arouse any +curiosity or interest in me. The middle-class merchant or clerk from the +big towns is repugnant to me, whether well or ill. I would exchange a +curt salute with those liverish parties and go my way on my old nag. + +One afternoon I was sitting in a wild part of the mountain, among big +birch-trees, when a pair of strangers approached the spot where I +was. They were not of the jaundiced and disagreeable type of the +valetudinarians. He was a lanky young man, smooth-shaven, grave, and +melancholy; she, a blond woman, most beautiful. + +She was dressed in white and wore a straw hat with large flowers; she +had a refined and gracious manner, eyes of blue, a very dark blue, and +flame-coloured hair. + +I surmised that they were a young married couple; but he seemed too +indifferent to be the husband of so pretty a woman. In any event, they +were not recently wed. + +He bowed to me, and then said to his companion: + +"Shall we sit down here?" + +"Very well." + +They seated themselves on the half-rotten trunk of a tree. + +"Are you on a trip?" he asked me, noticing my horse fastened to a +branch. + +"Yes. I am coming back from a visit." + +"Ah! Are you the town doctor?" + +"Yes." + +"And do you live here, in Cestona?" + +"Yes, I live here." + +"Alone?" + +"Quite alone." + +"In an hotel?" + +"No; in that house there down the road. Behold my house; that is it." + +"It must be hard to live among so many invalids!" he exclaimed. + +"Why?" she asked. "This gentleman may not have the same ideas as you." + +"I believe I have. To my mind, he is right. It is very hard to live +here." + +"You can have nobody to talk to. That's evident." + +"Absolutely nobody. Just imagine; there is not a Liberal in the town; +there are nothing but Carlists and Integrists." + +"And what has that to do with living contented?" she asked mockingly. + +The woman was enchanting; I looked at her, a bit amazed to find her so +merry and so coquettish; and she put several questions to me about my +life and my ideas, with a tinge of irony. + +I wanted to show that I was not exactly a farmer, and turning the talk +to what might be done in a town like that, I threw myself into outlining +utopian projects, and defending them with more warmth than it is +reasonable to express in a conversation with unknown persons. The +woman's mocking smile stirred me up and impelled me to talk. + +"It would be worth seeing, what a little town like this would be," I +said, indicating the village of Cestona, "with really human life in it, +and, above all, without Catholicism. Every tenant might be a master in +his own home, throughout his life. Here you have farm-land that produces +two crops, you have woods, mountains, and a medicinal spring. The +inhabitants of Cestona might have the entire produce of the land, the +mountain to supply building-stone and fire-wood, and besides all that, +the entrance-fees at the springs." + +"And whose duty would it be to distribute the profits in this +patriarchal republic? The municipality's?" he asked. + +"Of course," said I. "The municipality could go ahead distributing the +land, making the roads, cutting out useless middle-men; it could keep +clean, inexpensive hotels for the foreigners, and get a good return from +them." + +"And then you would not admit of inheritance, doctor?" + +"Inheritance? Yes, I would admit of it in regard to things produced by +one person. I believe one ought to have the right to bequeath a picture, +a book, a piece of craftsmanship; but not land, not a mountain." + +"Yes; property-right in land is absurd," he murmured. "The one +inconvenience that your plan would have," he added, "would be that +people from poverty-stricken holes would pour into the perfect towns and +upset the equilibrium." + +"Then we should have to restrict the right of citizenship." + +"But I consider that an injustice. The land should be free to all." + +"Yes, that's true." + +"And religion? None whatever? Like animals," she said ironically. + +"Like animals, and like some illustrious philosophers, dear sister," he +replied. "At the turn of a road, among the foliage, we would place a +marble statue adorned with flowers. Don't you agree, doctor?" + +"It seems to me a very good idea." + +"Above all, for me the great thing would be to forget death and sorrow +a little," he asserted. "Not so many church-bells should be heard. I +believe that we ought even to suppress the maxim about love for one's +neighbour. Make it the duty of the state or the municipality to take +care of the sick and the crippled, and leave men the illusion of living +healthy in a healthy world." + +"Ah! What very ugly ideas you have!" she exclaimed. + +"Yes, that one seems a bit hard to me," said I. + +We were walking down toward the town by a steep and rocky path. It was +beginning to grow dusk, the river shone with silvery reflections, +and the toads broke the silence of the twilight with the sonorous, +flute-like note of their croaking. + +On arriving at the highway we said good-bye; they took the stage, which +was passing at that moment in the direction of the springs, and I +mounted my hack. + + + +IN MY GARDEN + +I had learned that the brother and sister were named Caesar and Laura, +that she lived in Italy and was married. + +Some days later, toward evening, they knocked at my house door. I let +them in, showed them to my garden, and conducted them to a deserted +summer-house, a few sticks put together, on the bank of the river. + +Laura strolled through an orchard, gathered a few apples, and then, with +her brother's aid and mine, seated herself on the trunk of a tree that +leant over the river, and sat there gazing at it. + +While she was taking it in, her brother Caesar started to talk. Without +any preliminary explanation, he talked to me about his family, about his +life, about his ideas and his political plans. He expressed himself with +ease and strength; but he had the uneasy expression of a man who is +afraid of something. + +"I figure," he said, "that I know what there is to do in Spain. I shall +be an instrument. It is for that that I am training myself. I want to +create all my ideas, habits, prejudices, with a view to the rle I am +going to play." + +"You do not know what Spain is like," said Laura. "Life is very hard +here." + +"I know that well. There is no social system here, there is nothing +established; therefore it is easier to create one for oneself." + +"Yes, but some protection is requisite." + +"Oh, I will find that." + +"Where?" + +"I think those Church people we knew in Rome will do for me." + +"But you are not a Clerical." + +"No." "And do you want to start your career by deceiving people?" + +"I cannot choose my means. Politics are like this: doing something with +nothing, doing a great deal with a little, erecting a castle on a grain +of sand." + +"And do you, who have so many moral prejudices, wish to begin in that +way?" + +"Who told you that accepting every means is not moral?" + +"I don't understand how it could be," replied Laura. + +"I do," answered her brother. "What is individual morality today? Almost +nothing. It almost doesn't exist. Individual morality can come to be +collective only by contagion, by enthusiasm. And such things do not +happen nowadays; every one has his own morality; but we have not arrived +at a scientific moral code. Years ago notable men accepted the moral +code of the categoric imperative, in lieu of the moral code based on +sin; but the categorical imperative is a stoical morality, a wise man's +morality which has not the sentimental value necessary to make it +popular." + +"I do not understand these things," she replied, displeased. + +"The doctor understands me, don't you?" he said. + +"Yes, I believe I do." + +"For me," Caesar went on, "individual morality consists in adapting +one's life to a thought, to a preconceived plan. The man who proposes to +be a scientist and puts all his powers into achieving that, is a moral +man, even though he steals and is a blackguard in other things." + +"Then, for you," I argued, "morality is might, tenacity; immorality is +weakness, cowardice." + +"Yes, it comes to that. The man capable of feeling himself the +instrument of an idea always seems to me moral. Bismarck, for instance, +was a moral man." + +"It is a forceful point of view," said I. + +"Which, as I see, you do not share," he exclaimed. + +"As things are today, no. For me the idea of morality is attached to the +idea of pity rather than to the idea of force; but I comprehend that +pity is destructive." + +"I believe that you and Caesar," Laura burst forth, "by force of wishing +to see things clear, see them more vaguely than other people. I can see +all this quite simply; it appears to me that we call every person moral +who behaves well, and on the contrary, one that does wicked deeds is +called immoral and is punished." + +"But you prejudge the question," exclaimed Caesar; "you take it as +settled beforehand. You say, good and evil exist...." + +"And don't they exist?" + +"I don't know." + +"So that if they gave you the task of judging mankind, you would see no +difference between Don Juan Tenorio and Saint Francis of Assisi?" + +"Perhaps it was the saint who had the more pleasure, who was the more +vicious." + +"How atrocious!" + +"No, because the pleasure one has is the criterion, not the manner of +getting it. As for me, what is called a life of pleasure bores me." + +"And judging from the little I know of it, it does me too," said I. + +"I see life in general," he continued, "as something dark, gloomy, and +unattractive." + +"Then you gentlemen do not place the devil in this life, since this life +seems unattractive to you. Where do you find him?" + +"Nowhere, I think," replied Caesar; "the devil is a stupid invention." + + + +AT TWILIGHT + +The twilight was beginning. + +"It is chilly here by the river," I said. "Let us go to the house." + +We went up by a sloping path between pear-trees, and reached the +vestibule of the house. From afar we heard the sound of the stage-coach +bells; a headlight gleamed, and we saw it pass by and afterwards +disappear among the trees. "What a mistake to ask more of life than it +can give!" suddenly exclaimed Laura. "The sky, the sun, conversation, +love, the fields, works of art ... think of looking on all these as a +bore, from which one desires to escape through some violent occupation, +so as to have the satisfaction of not noticing that one is alive." + +"Because noticing that one is alive is disagreeable," replied her +brother. + +"And why?" + +"The idea! Why? Because life is not an idyll, not by a good deal. We +live by killing, destroying everything there is around us; we get to +be something by ridding ourselves of our enemies. We are in a constant +struggle." + +"I don't see this struggle. Formerly, when men were savages, perhaps.... +But now!" + +"Now, just the same. The one difference is that the material struggle, +with the muscles, has been changed to an intellectual one, a social one. +Nowadays, it is evident, a man does not have to hunt the bull or the +wild boar in the prairies; he finds their dead bodies at the butcher's. +Neither does the modern citizen have to knock his rival down to overcome +him; nowadays the enemy is conquered at the desk, in the factory, in +the editor's office, in the laboratory.... The struggle is just as +infuriated and violent as it was in the depths of the forests, only it +is colder and more courteous in form." + +"I don't believe it. You won't convince me." + +Laura plucked a branch of white blossoms from a wild-rose bush and put +it into her bosom. + +"Well, Caesar, let us go to the hotel," she said; "it is very late." + +"I will escort you a little way," I suggested. + +We went out on the highway. The night was palpitating as it filled +itself with stars. Laura hummed Neapolitan songs. We walked along a +little while without speaking, gazing at Jupiter, who shone resplendent. + +"And you have the conviction that you will succeed?" I suddenly asked +Caesar. "Yes. More than anything else I have the vocation for being an +instrument. If I win success, I shall be a great figure; if I go to +pieces, those who know me will say: 'He was an upstart; he was a thief.' +Or perhaps they may say that I was a poor sort, because men who have the +ambition to be social forces never get an unprejudiced epitaph." + +"And what will you do in a practical way, if you succeed?" + +"Something like what you dream of. And how shall I do it? By destroying +magnates, by putting an end to the power of the rich, subduing the +middle-class... I would hand over the land to the peasants, I would +send delegates to the provinces to make hygiene obligatory, and +my dictatorship should tear the nets of religion, of property, of +theocracy...." + +"What nonsense!" murmured Laura. + +"My sister doesn't believe in me," Caesar exclaimed, smiling. + +"Oh, yes, _bambino_," she replied. "Yes, I believe in you. Only, why +must you have such silly ambitions?" + +We were getting near the bath establishment, and when we came in front +of it we said good-bye. + +Laura was starting the next day to Biarritz, and Caesar for Madrid. + +We pressed one another's hands affectionately. + +"Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye, doctor!" + +"Good luck!" + +They went along toward the establishment, and I returned home by the +highway, envying the energy of that man, who was getting himself ready +to fight for an ideal. And I thought with melancholy of the monotonous +life of the little town. + + + + +I + +THE PARIS-VENTIMIGLIA EXPRESS + + +_MARSEILLES!_ + +The fast Paris-Ventimiglia train, one of the Grand European Expresses, +had stopped a moment at Marseilles. + +It was about seven in the morning of a winter day. The huge cars, +with their bevelled-glass windows, dripped water from all parts; the +locomotive puffed, resting from its run, and the bellows between car +and car, like great accordeons, had black drops slipping down their +corrugations. + +The rails shone; they crossed over one another, and fled into the +distance until lost to sight. The train windows were shut; silence +reigned in the station; from time to time there resounded a violent +hammering on the axles; a curtain here or there was raised, and behind +the misted glass the dishevelled head of a woman appeared. + +In the dining-car a waiter went about preparing the tables for +breakfast; two or three gentlemen, wrapped in their ulsters, their caps +pulled down, were seated at the tables by the windows and kept yawning. + +At one of the little tables at the end Laura and Caesar had installed +themselves. + +"Did you sleep, sister?" he asked. + +"Yes. I did. Splendidly. And you?" + +"I didn't. I can't sleep on the train." + +"That's evident." + +"I look so bad, eh?" and Caesar examined himself in one of the car +mirrors. "I certainly am absurdly pale." + +"The weather is just as horrible as ever," she added. + +They had left a Paris frozen and dark. During the whole night the cold +had been most intense. One hadn't been able to put a head outside the +car; snow and a furious wind had had their own violent way. + +"When we reach the Mediterranean, it will change," Laura had said. + +It had not; they were on the edge of the sea and the cold continued +intense and the weather dark. + + + +HOW BEAUTIFUL! + +The train began its journey again; the houses of Marseilles could be +seen through the morning haze; the Mediterranean appeared, greenish, +whitish, and fields covered with hoar-frost. + +"What horrid weather!" exclaimed Laura, shuddering. "I dislike the cold +more and more all the time." + +The dining-car waiter came and filled their cups with _caf-au-lait_. +Laura drew off her gloves and took one of the hot cups between her white +hands. + +"Oh, this is comforting!" she said. + +Caesar began to sip the boiling liquid. + +"I don't see how you can stand it. It's scalding." + +"That's the way to get warm," replied Caesar, undisturbed. + +Laura began to take her coffee by spoonfuls. Just then there come into +the dining-car a tall blond gentleman and a young, charming lady, each +smarter than the other. The man bowed to Laura with much formality. + +"Who is he?" asked Caesar. + +"He is the second son of Lord Marchmont, and he has married a Yankee +millionairess." + +"You knew him in Rome?" + +"No, I knew him at Florence last year, and he paid me attention rather +boldly." + +"He is looking at you a lot now." + +"He is capable of thinking that I am off on an adventure with you." + +"Possibly. She is a magnificent woman." + +"Right you are. She is a marvel. She is almost too pretty. She shows no +character; she has no air of breeding." "There doesn't seem to be any +great congeniality between them." + +"No, they don't get on very well. But come along, pay, let's go. So +many people are coming in here." + +Laura got up, and after her, Caesar. As she passed, one heard the swish +of her silk petticoats. The travellers looked at her with admiration. + +"I believe these people envy me," said Caesar philosophically. + +"It's quite possible, _bambino_," she responded, laughing. + +They entered their compartment. The train was running at full speed +along the coast. The greenish sea and the cloudy sky stretched away and +blotted out the horizon. At Toulon the bad weather continued; a bit +beyond, the sun came out, pallid in the fog, circled with a yellowish +halo; then the fog dispersed rapidly and a brilliant sun made the +snow-covered country shine. + +"Oh! How beautiful!" exclaimed Laura. + +The dense pure snow had packed down. The grape-vines broke up this white +background symmetrically, like flocks of crows settled on the earth; the +pines held high their rounds of foliage, and the cypresses, stern and +slim, stood out very black against all the whiteness. + +On passing Hyres, as the train turned away from the shore, running +inland, grim snowy mountains began for some while to be visible, and the +sun vanished among the clouds; but when the train came out once more +toward the sea, near San Rafael, suddenly,--as if a theatrical effect +had been arranged,--the Mediterranean appeared, blue, flooded with +sunshine, full of lights and reflections. The sky stretched radiant +above the sea, without a cloud, without a shred of vapour. + +"How marvellous! How beautiful!" Laura again exclaimed, contemplating +the landscape with emotion. "These blessed countries where the sun is!" + +"They have no other drawback, than that the men who inhabit them are a +trifle vague," said Caesar. + +"Bah!" + +The air had grown milder; on the surface of the sea patterns of silver +foam, formed by the beating of the waves, widened themselves out; the +sun's reflection on the restless waters made shining spots and rays, +flaming swords that dazzled the eye. + +The train seemed to puff joyfully at submerging itself in this bland and +voluptuous atmosphere; the palm-trees of Cannes came surging up like a +promise of felicity, and the Cte d'Azur began to show its luminous and +splendid beauty. + +Caesar, tired of so much light, took a book from his pocket: _The +Speculator's Manual_ of Proudhon, and set to reading it attentively and +to marking the passages that struck him as interesting. + + + +THE ENGLISHMAN AND HIS WIFE + +Laura, when she was not watching the landscape, was looking at those who +came and went in the corridor. + +"The Englishman is lying in wait," Laura observed. + +"What Englishman?" asked Caesar. + +"The son of the lord." + +"Ah, yes." + +Caesar kept on reading, and Laura continued to watch the landscape which +hurried by outside the window. After a while she exclaimed: + +"O Lord, what hideous things!" + +"What things?" + +"Those war-ships." + +Caesar looked where his sister pointed. In a roadstead brilliant with +sunlight he saw two men-of-war, black and full of cannons. + +"That's the way one ought to be to face life, armed to the teeth," +exclaimed Caesar. + +"Why?" asked Laura. + +"Because life is hard, and you have to be as hard as it is in order to +win." + +"You don't consider yourself hard enough?" + +"No." + +"Well, I think you are. You are like those rough, pointed rocks on the +shore, and I am like the sea.... They throw me off and I come back." +"That is because, perhaps, when you get down to it, nothing makes any +real difference to you." + +"Oh, _bambino!_" exclaimed Laura, taking Caesar's hand with affectionate +irony. "You always have to be so cruel to your mamma." + +Caesar burst into laughter, and kept Laura's hand between both of his. + +"The Englishman feels sad looking at us," he said. "He doesn't dream +that I am your brother." + +"Open the door, I will tell him to come in." + +Caesar did so, and Laura invited the young Englishman to enter. + +"My brother Caesar," she said, introducing them, "Archibaldo Marchmont." + +They both bowed, and Marchmont said to Laura in French: + +"You are very cruel, Marchesa." + +"Why?" + +"Because you run away from us people who admire and like you. My wife +asked me to present her to you. Would you like her to come?" + +"Oh, no! She mustn't disturb herself. I will go to her." + +"Assuredly not. One moment." + +Marchmont went out into the corridor and presented his wife to Laura and +to Caesar. + +An animated conversation sprang up among them, interrupted by Laura's +exclamations of delight on passing one or another of the wonderful views +along the Riviera. + +"You are a Latin, Marchesa, eh?" said Marchmont. + +"Altogether. This is our sea. Every time I look at it, it enchants me." + +"You are going to stop at Nice?" + +"No, my brother and I are on our way to Rome." + +"But Nice will be magnificent...." + +"Yes, that's true; but we have made up our minds to go to Rome to visit +our uncle, the Cardinal." + +The Englishman made a gesture of annoyance, which did not go unperceived +by his wife or by Laura. On arriving at Nice, the Englishman and his +Yankee wife got out, after promising that they would be in Rome before +many days. + +Laura and Caesar remained alone and chatted about their +fellow-travellers. According to Laura, the couple did not get along well +and they were going to separate. + + + +IN ITALY + +In the middle of the afternoon they arrived at Ventimiglia and changed +trains. + +"Are we in Italy now?" said Caesar. + +"Yes." + +"It seems untidier than France." + +"Yes; but more charming." + +The train kept stopping at almost all the little towns along the route. +In a third-class car somebody was playing an accordeon. It was Sunday. +In the towns they saw people in their holiday clothes, gathered in the +square and before the cafs and the eating-places. On the roads little +two-wheeled carriages passed quickly by. + +It began to grow dark; in the hamlets situated on the seashore fishermen +were mending their nets. Others were hauling up the boats to run them +on to the beach, and children were playing about bare-footed and +half-naked. + +The landscape looked like a theatre-scene, the setting for a romantic +play. They were getting near Genoa, running along by beaches. It was +growing dark; the sea came right up to the track; in the starry, +tranquil night only the monotonous music of the waves was to be heard. + +Laura was humming Neapolitan songs. Caesar looked at the landscape +indifferently. + +On reaching Genoa they had supper and changed trains. + +"I am going to lie down awhile," said Laura. + +"So am I." + +Laura took off her hat, her white cape, and her jacket. + +"Good-night, _bambino_," she said. + +"Good-night. Shall I turn down the light?" + +"As you like." Caesar turned down the light and stretched himself out. +He couldn't sleep in trains and he got deep into a combination of +fantastical plans and ideas. When they stopped at stations and the noise +of the moving train was gone from the silence of the night, Caesar could +hear Laura's gentle breathing. + +A little before dawn, Caesar, tired of not sleeping, got up and started +to take a walk in the corridor. It was raining; on the horizon, below +the black, starless sky, a vague clarity began to appear. Caesar took +out his Proudhon book and immersed himself in it. + +When it began to be day they were already getting near Rome. The train +was running through a flat, treeless plain of swampy aspect, covered +with green grass; from time to time there was a poor hut, a hay-stack, +on the uninhabited, monotonous stretch. + +The grey sky kept on resolving itself into a rain which, at the impulse +of gusts of wind, traced oblique lines in the air. + +Laura had waked and was in the dressing-room. A little later she came +out, fresh and hearty, without the least sign of fatigue. + +They began to see the yellowish walls of Rome, and certain big edifices +blackened by the wet. A moment more and the train stopped. + +"It's not worth the trouble to take a cab," said Laura. "The hotel is +here, just a step." + +They gave a porter orders to attend to the luggage. Laura took her +brother's arm, they went out on the Piazza Esedra, and entered the +hotel. + + + + +II + +AN EXTRAORDINARY FAMILY + +_JUAN GUILLN_ + + +The Valencian family of Guilln was really fecund in men of energy and +cleverness. It is true that with the exception of Father Francisco +Guilln and of his nephew Juan Fort, none of them became known; but in +spite of the fact that the members of this family lived in obscurity in +a humble sphere, they performed deeds of unheard-of valour, daring, and +impertinence. + +Juan Guilln, the first of the Guillns whose memory is preserved, was a +highwayman of Villanueva. + +What motives for vengeance Juan Guilln had against the Peyr family is +not known. The old folk of the period, two or three who are still alive, +always say that these Peyrs devoted themselves to usury; and there is +some talk of a certain sister of Juan Guilln's, ruined by one of the +Peyrs, whom they made disappear from the town. + +Whatever the motive was, the fact is that one day Peyr, the father, and +his eldest son were found, full of bullet holes, in an orange orchard. + +Juan Guilln was arrested; in court he affirmed his innocence with great +tenacity; but after he had been sentenced to ten years' imprisonment, he +said that there were still two Peyrs left to kill, whom he would put +off until he got out of prison. + +As it turned out, Guilln was set free after six years and returned to +Villanueva. The two threatened Peyrs did their utmost to keep away from +the revengeful Guilln; but it did not work. Juan Guilln killed one +of the Peyrs while he was watering the flowers in the balcony of his +house. The other took refuge in a remote farm-house rented to peasants +in his confidence. This man, who was very crafty, always took great +precautions about all the people that came there, and never forgot to +close the doors and windows at night. + +One morning he was found in bed with his head shot to pieces by a +blunderbuss. No doubt death overtook him while he slept. It was said +that Guilln had got in down the chimney, and going close to where Peyr +lay asleep, had fired the blunderbuss right against him. Then he had +gone tranquilly out by the door, without anybody's daring to stop him. + +These two last deaths did not cause Guilln any trouble with the law. +All the witnesses in the suit testified in his favour. When the trial +was over, Guilln arranged to stay and live tranquilly in Villanueva. + +There was a highwayman in the town, who levied small sums on the farms +for cleaning young sneak-thieves out of the country, and for escorting +rich persons when they travelled; Guilln requested him to give up his +job and he did not offer the least resistance. + +Juan Guilln married a peasant-girl, bought a truck-garden, and a +wine-cave, had several children, and was one of the most respectable +highwaymen in the district. He was the terror of the country, +particularly to evil-doers; for him there were neither scruples nor +perils; might was always right; his only limitation his blunderbuss. + +To live in a continual state of war seemed to him a natural condition. +Half in earnest, half in jest, it is told of the truck-gardeners of +Valencia that the father always says to his wife or his daughter, when +he is going to have an interview with somebody: + +"Bring me my pistol, sweetheart, I am going out to talk to a man." + +To Guilln it seemed indispensable that he should carry his blunderbuss +when discussing an affair with anybody. + +Juan's energy did not diminish with age; he kept on being as barbarous +and brutal as when he was young. His barbarity did not prevent his being +very fine and polite, because he was under the conviction that his life +was a well-nigh exemplary life. + + + +TENDER-HEARTED VICENTA + +Of the highwayman's children, the eldest son studied for the priesthood, +and the youngest daughter, Vicenta, got ruined. + +"I should prefer to have her a man and in the penitentiary," Guilln +used to say. Which was not at all strange, because for the highwayman +the penitentiary was like a school of determination and manhood. + +Vicenta, the highwayman's youngest daughter, was a blond girl, noisy +and restless, of a violent character that was proof against advice, +reprimands, and beatings. + +Vicenta had various beaux, all gentlemen, in spite of her father's +opposition and his cane. None of these young gentlemen beaux dared to +carry the girl off to Valencia, which was what she wanted, for fear of +the highwayman and his blunderbuss. + +So she made arrangements with an old woman, a semi-Celestina who turned +up in town, and in her company ran off to Valencia. + +The father roared like a wounded lion and swore by all the saints in +heaven to take a terrible revenge; he went to the capital several times +with the intention of dragging his daughter back home bodily; but he +could not find her. + +Vicenta Guilln, who was known in Valencia,--for what reason is not +evident,--as the Tender-hearted, had her ups and her downs, rich lovers +and poor, and was distinguished by her boldness and her spirit of +adventure. It was said of her that she had taken part, dressed as a man, +in several popular disturbances. + + + +THE MONK + +While the Tender-hearted was leading a life of scandal, her brother, +Francisco, was studying in the College of the Escolapians in the +village, and afterwards entered the Seminary at Tortosa. He did not +distinguish himself there by his intelligence or by his good conduct; +but by force of time and recommendations he succeeded in getting +ordained and saying mass at Villanueva. His father's restless blood +boiled in him: he was a rowdy, brutal and quarrelsome. As life in the +village was uncomfortable for him, he went to America, ready to change +his profession. He could not have found wide prospects among the laity, +for after a few months he took the vows, and ten or twelve years later +he returned to Spain, the Superior of his Order, and went to a monastery +in the province of Castelln. + +Francisco Guilln had changed his name, and was now called Fray Jos de +Calasanz de Villanueva. + +If Fray Jos de Calasanz, on his return from America, had not learned +much theology, at any rate he had learned more about life than in the +early years of his priesthood, and had turned into a cunning hypocrite. +His passions were of extraordinary violence, and despite his ability in +concealing them, he could not altogether hide his underlying barbarity. + +His name figured several times, in a scandalous manner, along with the +name of a certain farmer's wife, who was a bit weak in the head. + +These pieces of gossip, though they gave him a bad reputation with the +town people, did not prevent him from advancing in his career, for +pretty soon, and no one quite knew for what reason, he was found to have +acquired importance and to wield influence of decisive weight, not only +in the Order, but among the whole clerical element of the city. + +At the same time that Father Jos de Calasanz was becoming so +successful, the Tender-hearted took to the path of virtue and got +married at Valencia to the proprietor of a little grocery shop in a lane +near the market, his name being Antonio Fort. + +The Tender-hearted, once married, wrote to her brother to get him to +make her father forgive her. The monk persuaded the old bandit, and the +Tender-hearted went to Villanueva to receive the paternal pardon. The +Tender-hearted, being married, lived an apparently retired and +devout life. Her husband was a poor devil of not much weight. The +Tender-hearted gave a great impetus to the shop. After she began to run +the establishment there was always a great influx of priests and monks +recommended by her brother. + +Some of them used to gather in the back-shop toward dusk for +a _tertulia_, and it was said that one of the members of the +_tertulia_,--a youthful little priest from Murcia,--had an understanding +with the landlady. + +The priests' _tertulia_ at Fort's shop was a well-spring of riches and +prosperity for the business. The little nuns of such-and-such a convent +advised the ladies they knew to buy chocolate and sweets at Fort's; the +friars of another convent gave them an order for sugar or cinnamon, and +cash poured into the drawer. + +The Tender-hearted had three children: Juan, Jernimo, and Isabel. + +When the two elder were of an age to begin their education, Father Jos +de Calasanz made a visit in Valencia. + +Father Jos had a powerful influence among the clergy, and he offered +his support to his sister in case she found it well to dedicate one of +her sons to the church. + +The Tender-hearted, who beginning to have great ambitions, considered +that of her two sons, Juan, the elder, was the more serious and +diligent, and she did not vacillate about sacrificing him to her +ambitions. + + + +JUAN FORT + +Juan Fort was a boy of energy, very decided, although not very +intelligent. His uncle, Fray Jos de Calasanz, when he knew him, grew +fond of him. Fray Jos enjoyed great esteem in the Order that is +called,--nobody knows whether it is in irony,--the Seraphic Order. Fray +Jos consulted several competent persons and they advised him to send +his nephew to study outside of Spain. It is known that among her +ministers the Church prefers men without a country. Catholicism means +universality, and the real Catholic has no other country than his +religion, no other capital but Rome. + +Juan Fort, snatched from among his comrades and from the bosom of his +family, went weeping in his uncle's company to France, and entered the +convent of Mont-de-Marson to pursue his studies. + +In this convent he made his monastic novitiate, and like all the +individuals of that Order, changed his name, being called from then on, +Father Vicente de Valencia. + +From Mont-de-Marson he passed to Toulouse, and when two years were up, +he made a short stay in the monastery where his uncle was prior, and +went to Rome. + +When the Tender-hearted went to embrace her son, on his passage through +Valencia, she could see that his affection for her had vanished. As +happens with nearly all the young men that enter a religious Order, Juan +Fort felt a deep antipathy for his family and for his native town. + +The young Father Vicente de Valencia entered the convent of Aracceli at +Rome, and continued his studies there. + +This was at the beginning of Leo XIII's pontificate. At that epoch +certain nave elements in the Eternal City tried to initiate anti-Jesuit +politics inside the Church. Liberals and Ultramontanists struggled in +the darkness, in the periodicals, and in the universities. + +It was a phenomenon of this struggle,--which seems paradoxical,--that +the partisans of tradition were the most liberal, and the partisans of +Modernism the Ultramontanists. The lesser clergy and certain Cardinals +felt vaguely liberal, and were searching for that something Christian, +which, as people say, still remains in Catholicism. On the other hand, +the Congregations, and above all the Jesuits, gave the note of radical +Ultramontanism. + +The sons of Loyola had solved the culinary problem of making a +meat-stew without meat; the Jesuits were making their Company the most +anti-Christian of the Societies in the silent partnership. + +In Rome the prime defender of Ultramontanism had been the Abb Perrone, +an eloquent professor, whom the pressure of the traditional theologians +obliged to read, before giving a lecture, a chapter of Saint Thomas on +the point in question. Perrone, after offering, with gnashing of teeth, +this tribute to tradition, used to say proudly: "And now, let us forget +these old saws and get along." + +Father Vicente de Valencia enrolled himself among the supporters of the +Perronean Ultramontanism, and became, as was natural, considering his +character, a furious authoritarian. This sombre man, whose vocation was +repugnant to him, who had not the least religious feeling, who could +perhaps have been a good soldier, took a long time to make himself +perfectly at home in monastic life, struggled against the chains that +chafed him, rebelled inwardly, and at last, not only did not succeed in +breaking his fetters, but even considered them his one happiness. + +Little by little he dominated his rebelliousness, and he made himself a +great worker and a tireless intriguer. + +The fruits of his will were great, greater than those of his intellect. + +Father Vicente wrote a theological treatise in Latin, rather uncouth, +so the intellectual said, and which had the sole distinction of +representing the most rabid of reactionary tendencies. + +_The Theological Commentaries of Father Vicente de Valencia_ did not +attract the attention of the men who follow the sport of occupying +themselves with such things, whether or no; the presses did not groan +printing criticisms of the book; but the Society of Jesus took note of +the author and assisted Fort with all its power. + +A fanatic and a man of mediocre intelligence, that monk might perhaps be +a considerable force in the hands of the Society. + +A short while after the publication of his _Commentaries_, Father +Vicente accompanied the general of his Order on a canonical visit to +the monasteries in Spain, France, and Italy; later he was appointed +successively Visitor General for Spain, Consultor of the monastic +province of Valencia, Definer of the Order, and a voting councillor in +the government of the Order. + +The news of these honours reached the Fort family in vague form; the +haughty monk gave no account of his successes. He considered himself to +be without a country and without a family. + + + +THE CARDINAL'S NEPHEW AND NIECE + +The Tender-hearted died without having the consolation of seeing her +son again; Jernimo Fort, the youngest child, became head of the shop, +Isabel married a soldier, Carlos Moncada, with whom she went to live in +Madrid. + +Isabel Fort lived there a long time without remembering her monk +brother, until she learned, to her great surprise, that they had made +him a Cardinal. + +Father Vicente left off calling himself that and changed into Cardinal +Fort. The darkness that surrounded him turned to light, and his figure +stood out strongly. + +"Cardinale Forte," they called him in Rome. He was known to be one of +the persons that guided the Vatican camarilla, and one of those who +impelled Leo XIII to rectify the slightly liberal policy of the first +years of his pontificate. + +Cardinal Fort filled high posts. He was a Consultor in the Congregation +of Bishops and Regulars, afterwards in that of Rites and in that of the +Holy Office, and on special occasions was confessor to Leo XIII. + +Certainly having a Cardinal in the family is something that makes a +showing; and Isabel, as soon as she knew it, wrote by the advice of the +family, to her brother, so as to renew relations with him. + +The Cardinal replied, expressing interest in her husband and her +children. Isabel sent him their pictures, and phrases of affection were +cordially interchanged. + +After that they kept on writing to each other, and in one letter the +Cardinal invited Isabel to come to Rome. She hesitated; but her +husband convinced her that she ought to accept the invitation. They all +of them went, and the Cardinal received them very affectionately. + +Juan Fort was living at that time in a monastery, like the other monks. +He enjoyed an enormous influence in Rome and in Spain. Isabel wanted her +husband promoted, and the Cardinal obtained that in a moment. + +Then Fort talked to his sister of the propriety of dedicating Caesar to +the Church. He would enter the College of Nobles, then he would pass to +the Nunciature, and in a short while he would be a potentate. + +Doa Isabel told this to her husband; but the idea didn't please him. +They talked among themselves, they discussed it, and the small boy, then +twelve years old, settled the question himself, saying that he would +kill himself rather than be a priest or a monk, because he was a +Republican. + +The Cardinal was not enthusiastic over this rebellious youngster who +dared to speak out what he, in his childhood, would not have been bold +enough to insinuate; but if Caesar did not appeal to him, on the other +hand he was very much taken with Laura's beauty and charm. + +The Moncada family returned to Spain after spending some months in Rome. +Two years later Doa Isabel's husband died, and she, recalling the +offers of her brother, the Cardinal, left Caesar in an Escolapian +college in Madrid, and went to Rome, taking Laura with her. + +The Cardinal, in the meanwhile, had changed his position and his +domicile; he was now living in the Palazzo Altemps in the Via di S. +Apellinare, and leading a more sumptuous life. + +They reproached him in Rome for his exclusiveness and at the same time +for his tendency to ostentation. They said that if he was silent about +himself, it was not through modesty, but because that is the best method +to arrive at being a candidate for the tiara. + +They added that he was very fond of showing himself in his red robes, +and in fine carriages, and this ostentatious taste was explained among +the Italians by saying: "It's simple enough; he is Spanish." + +Publicly it was said that he was a great theologian, but privately he +was considered a strong man, although of mediocre intelligence. + +"A Fort is always strong," they said of him, making a pun on his name. +"He is one of the Spanish Eminences who rule the Pope," a great English +periodical stated, referring to him. + +On receiving his sister and his niece, the Cardinal put all his +influence with the Black Party in play so that they should be accepted +by the aristocratic society of Rome. He achieved that without much +difficulty. Laura and her mother were naturaly distinguished and +tactful, and they succeeded in forming a circle. + +The Cardinal felt proud of his family; and accompanying the two women +gave him occasion for visiting many people. + +Roman slander calumniated Fort, assuming him to be having a love affair +with his niece. Juan Fort showed an affection for Laura which seemed +unheard of by those that knew him. + +The Cardinal was a man of exuberant pride, and he knew how to control +himself. He felt a great fondness for Laura; but if there was anything +more in this fondness than tranquil fatherly affection, if there was any +passion, only he knew it; the fire lurked very deep in his overshaded +soul. + +Laura made, socially speaking, a good marriage. She married the Marquis +of Vaccarone, a babbling Neapolitan, insubstantial and light. In a short +while, seeing that they were not congenial, she arranged for an amicable +separation and the two lived independent. + + + + +III + +CAESAR MONCADA + +AT THE ESCOLAPIANS + + +Caesar studied in Madrid in an Escolapian college in the Calle de +Hortaleza, where he was an intern all the time he was taking his +bachelor's degree. + +His mother had gone to live in Valencia, after marrying Laura off, +and Caesar passed his vacations with her at a country-place in a +neighbouring village. + +Several times a year Caesar received letters and photographs from his +sister, and one winter Laura came to Valencia. She retained a great +fondness for Caesar; he was fond of her too, although he did not show +it, because his character was little inclined to affectionate expansion. + +At college Caesar showed himself to be a somewhat strange and absurd +youth. As he was slight and of a sickly appearance, the teachers treated +him with a certain consideration. + +One day a teacher noticed that Caesar creaked when he moved, as if his +clothes were starched. + +"What are you wearing?" he asked him. + +"Nothing." + +"Nothing, indeed! Unbutton your jacket." + +Caesar turned very pale and did not unbutton it; but the master, seizing +him by a lapel, unbuttoned his jacket and his waistcoat, and found that +the student was covered with papers. + +"What are these papers? For what purpose are you keeping them here?" + +"He does it," one of his fellow students replied, laughing, "because +he is afraid of catching cold and becoming consumptive." They all made +comments on the boy's eccentricity, and a few days later, to show that +he was not a coward, he tried to go out on the balcony on a cold winter +night, with his chest bare. + +Among his fellow-students Caesar had an intimate friend, Ignacio +Alzugaray, to whom he confided and explained his prejudices and doubts. +Alzugaray was not a boarder, but a day-scholar. + +Ignacio brought anti-clerical periodicals to school, which Caesar read +with enthusiasm. His sojourn in a religious college was producing a +frantic hatred for priests in young Moncada. + +Caesar was remarkable for the rapidity of his decisions and the lack of +vacillation in his opinions. He felt no timidity about either affirming +or denying. + +His convictions were absolute; when he believed in the exact truth of a +thing, he did not vacillate, he did not go back and discuss it; but if +his belief faltered, then he changed his opinion radically and went +ahead stating the contrary of his previous statements, without +recollecting his abandoned ideas. + +His other fellow-students did not care about discussions with a lad who +appeared to have a monopoly of the truth. + +"Professor So-and-So is a beast; What-you-call-him is a talented chap; +that fellow is a thick-witted chap. This kid is all right; that one is +not." + +In this rail-splitting manner did young Moncada announce his decisions, +as if he held the secret explanation of all things tight between his +fingers. + +Alzugaray seldom shared his friend's opinions; but in spite of this +divergence they understood each other very well. + +Alzugaray came of a modest family; his mother, the widow of a government +clerk, lived on her pension and on the income from some property they +owned in the North. + +Ignacio Alzugaray was very fond of his mother and his sister, and was +always talking about them. Caesar alone would listen without being +impatient to the meticulous narratives Ignacio told about the things +that happened at home. + +Alzugaray was of a very Catholic and very Carlist family; but like +Caesar, he was beginning to protest against such ideas and to show +himself Liberal, Republican, and even Anarchistic. Ignacio Alzugaray was +a nephew of Carlos Yarza, the Spanish author, who lived in Paris, and +who had taken part in the Commune and in the Insurrection of Cartagena. + +Caesar, on hearing Alzugaray recount the doings of his uncle Carlos +Yarza various times, said to his fellow-student: + +"When I get out of this college, the first thing I am going to do is to +go to Paris to talk with your uncle." + +"What for?" + +"I have to talk to him." + +As a matter of fact, once his course was finished, Caesar left the +college, took a third-class ticket, went to Paris, and from there wrote +to his mother informing her what he had done. Carlos Yarza, Alzugaray's +uncle, received him very affectionately. He took him to dine and +explained a good many things. Caesar asked the old man no end of +questions and listened to him with real avidity. + +Carlos Yarza was at that time an employee in a bank. At this epoch his +forte was for questions of speculation. He had put his mind and his will +to the study of these matters and had the glimmering of a system in +things where everybody else saw only contingencies without any possible +law. + +Caesar accompanied Yarza to the Bourse and was amazed and stirred at +seeing the enormous activity there. + +Yarza cleared away the innumerable doubts that occurred to the boy. + +In the short time Caesar spent in Paris he came to a most important +conclusion, which was that in this life one had to fight terribly to get +anywhere. + +One day, on awakening in the shabby little room where he lodged, he +found that the arms of a very smart woman were around his neck. It was +Laura, very contented and joyful to surprise her madcap brother. + +"Mamma is alarmed," Laura told him. "What are you doing here all this +time? Are you in love?" "I? Bah!" + +"Then what have you been doing?" + +"I've been going to the Bourse." + + + +SOUNDING-LINES IN LIFE + +Laura burst out laughing, and she accompanied her brother back to +Valencia. Caesar's mother wished the lad to take his law course there, +but Caesar decided to do it in Madrid. + +"A provincial capital is an insupportable place," he said. + +Caesar went to Madrid and rented a study and a bed-room, cheap and +unrestricted. + +He boarded in one house and lodged at another. Thus he felt more free. + +Caesar believed that it was not worth the trouble to study law +seriously; and he imagined moreover that to study so many routine +conceptions, which may be false, such as the conception of the soul, of +equity, of responsibility, etc., would bring him to a shyster lawyer's +vulgar and affected idea of life. To counteract this tendency he devoted +himself to studying zoology at the University, and the next year he took +a course in physiology at San Carlos. + +At the same time he did not neglect the stock exchange; his great pride +was to acquaint himself thoroughly with the details of the speculations +made and to talk in the crowds. + +As a student he was mediocre. He learned the secret of passing +examinations well with the minimum of effort, and practised it. He +found that by knowing only a couple of things under each heading of the +program, it was enough for him to answer and to pass well. And so, from +the beginning of each course, he marked in the text the two or three +lines of every page which seemed to him to comprise the essential, and +having learned those, considered his knowledge sufficient. + +Caesar had a deep contempt for the University and for his +fellow-students; all their rows and manifestations seemed to him +repulsively flat and stupid. + +Alzugaray was studying law too, and had obtained a clerkship in a +Ministry. Alzugaray got drunk on music. His great enthusiasm was for +playing the 'cello. Caesar used to call on him at his office and at +home. + +The clerks at the Ministry seemed to Caesar to form part of an inferior +human race. + +At Alzugaray's house, Caesar felt at home. Ignacio's mother, a lady with +white hair, was always making stockings, and after dinner she recited +the rosary with the maid; Alzugaray's sister, Celedonia, a tall ungainly +lass, was often ill. + +All the family thought a great deal of Caesar; his advice was followed +at that house, and one of the operations on 'change that he recommended +making with some Foreign bonds that Ignacio's mother was holding at the +time of the Cuban War, gave everybody in the house an extraordinary idea +of young Moncada's financial talents. + +Caesar kept his balance among his separate activities; one set of +studies complemented others. This diversity of points of view kept him +from taking the false and one-sided position that those who preoccupy +themselves with one branch of knowledge exclusively get into. + +The one-sided position is most useful to a specialist, to a man who +expects to remain satisfied in the place where chance has put him; but +it is useless for one who proposes to enter life with his blood afire. + +As almost always occurs, the projecting of ideas of distinct derivation +and of different orders into the same plane, carried Caesar into +absolute scepticism, scepticism about things, and especially scepticism +about the instrument of knowledge. + +His negation had no reference,--far from it,--to women, to love, or +to friends, things where the pedantic and ostentatious scepticism of +literary men of the Larra type usually finds its fodder; his nihilism +was much more the confusion and discomposure of one that explores a +region well or badly, and finds no landmarks there, no paths, and +returns with a belief that even the compass is not exact in what it +shows. + +"Nothing absolute exists," Caesar told himself, "neither science nor +mathematics nor even the truth, can be an absolute thing." + +Arriving at this result surprised Caesar a good deal. On finding that he +was not successful in lighting on a philosophical system which would be +a guide to him and which could be reasoned out like a theorem, he sought +within the purely subjective for something that might satisfy him and +serve as a standard. + + + +A PHILOSOPHY + +Toward the end of their course Caesar presented himself one day in his +friend Alzugaray's office. + +"I think," he said, "that I am getting my philosophy into shape." + +"My dear man!" + +"Yes. I have tacked some new contours on to my Darwinian pragmatism." + +Alzugaray, in whom every treasure-trove of his friend's always produced +great surprise, stood staring navely at him. + +"Yes, I am building up my system," Caesar went on, "a system within +relative truth. It is clear." + +"Let's hear what it is." + +"In regard to us," said Caesar, as if he were speaking of something +that had happened in the street a few minutes before, "our uncertain +instrument of knowledge makes two apparent states of nature seem real to +us; one, the static, in which things are perceived by us as motionless; +the other, the dynamic, wherein these same things are found in motion. +It is clear that in reality everything is in motion; but within the +relative truth of our ideas we are able to believe that there are some +things in repose and others in action. Isn't that so?" + +"Yes. That is, I think so," replied Alzugaray, who was beginning to +wonder if the whole earth was trembling under his feet. + +"Good!" Caesar continued. "I am going to pass from nature to life: I +am going to assume that life has a purpose. Where can this purpose be +found? We don't know. But what can be the machinery of this purpose? +Only movement, action. That is to say, struggle. This assertion once +made, I am going to take a hand in carrying it out. The things we call +spiritual also are dynamic. Who says anything whatsoever says matter and +force; who says force affirms attraction and repulsion; attraction and +repulsion are synonymous with movement, with struggle, with action. Now +I am inside of my system. It will consist of putting all the forces near +me into movement, into action, into struggle. What pleasure may there be +in this? First, the pleasure of doing, the pleasure, we might call +it, of efficiency; secondly, the pleasure of seeing, the pleasure of +observing.... What do you think of it?" + +"Fine, man! The things you start are always good." "Then there is the +moral point. I think I have settled that too." + +"That too?" + +"Yes. Morals should be nothing more than the true, fitting, and natural +law of man. Man considered solely as a spiritual machine? No. Considered +as an animal that eats and drinks? Not that either. Man considered as a +complete whole. Isn't that so?" + +"I believe it is." + +"I proceed. In nature laws become more obscure, according as more +complicated objects of knowledge turn up. We all clearly see the law +of the triangle, and the law of oxygen or of carbon with the same +clearness. These laws appear to us as being without exception. But then +comes the mineral, and we begin to see variations; in this form it +exerts one attraction, in that form a different one. We ascend to +the vegetable and find a sort of surprise-package. The surprises are +centupled in the animal; and are raised to an unknown degree in man. +What is the law of man, as man? We do not know it, probably we shall +never know it. Right and justice may be truths, but they will always +be fractional truths. Traditional morality is a pragmatism, useful and +efficacious for social life, for well-ordered life; but at the bottom, +without reality. Summing all this up: first, life is a labyrinth +which has no Ariadne's thread but one,--action; secondly, man is upheld +in his high qualities by force and struggle. Those are my conclusions." + +"Clever devil! I don't know what to say to you." + +Alzugaray asserted that, without taking it upon him to say whether his +friend's ideas were good or bad, they had no practical value; but +Caesar insisted once and many times on the advantages he saw in his +metaphysics. + + + +ENCHIRIDION SAPIENTIAE + +Caesar remained in the same sphere during the whole period of his law +course, always seeking, according to his own words, to add one wheel +more to his machine. + +His life contained few incidents; summers he went to Valencia, and +there, in the villa, he read and talked with the peasants. His mother, +devoted solely to the Church, bothered herself little about her son. + +Caesar ended his studies, and on his coming of age, they gave him his +share of his father's estate. + +Incontinently he took the train, he went to Paris, he looked up Yarza. +He explained to him his vague projects of action. Yarza listened +attentively, and said: + +"Perhaps it will appear foolish to you, but I am going to give you a +book I wrote, which I should like you to read. It's called _Enchiridion +Sapientiae_. In my youth I was something of a Latinist. In these pages, +less than a hundred, I have gathered my observations about the financial +and political world. It might as well be called _Contribution to +Common-sense, or Neo-Machiavellianism_. If you find that it helps you, +keep it." + +Caesar read the book with concentrated attention. + +"How did it strike you?" said Yarza. + +"There are many things in it I don't agree with; I shall have to think +over them again." + +"All right. Then keep my _Enchiridion_ and go on to London. Paris is a +city that has finished. It is not worth the trouble of losing one's time +staying here." + +Caesar went to London, always with the firm intention of going into +something. From time to time he wrote a long letter to Ignacio +Alzugaray, telling him his impressions of politics and financial +questions. + +While he was in London his sister joined him and invited him to go to +Florence; two years later she begged him to accompany her to Rome. +Caesar had always declined to visit the Eternal City, until, on that +occasion, he himself showed a desire to go to Rome with his sister. + + + + +IV + +PEOPLE WHO PASS CLOSE BY + +_THE SAN MARTINO YOUNG LADIES_ + +Arrived at Rome, Laura and Caesar went up to the hotel, and were +received by a bald gentleman with a pointed moustache, who showed them +into a large round salon with a very high ceiling. + +It was a theatrical salon, with antique furniture and large red-velvet +arm-chairs with gilded legs. The enormous mirrors, somewhat tarnished +by age, made the salon appear even larger. On the consoles and cabinets +gleamed objects of majolica and porcelain. + +The big window of this salon opened on the Piazza Esedra di Termini. +Caesar and Laura looked out through the glass. It was beginning to rain +again; the great semi-circular extent of the square was shining with +rain. + +The passing trams slipped around the curve in the track; a caravan of +tourists in ten or twelve carriages in file, all with their umbrellas +open, were preparing to visit the monuments of Rome; strolling pedlars +were showing them knick-knacks and religious gewgaws. + +Caesar's and Laura's rooms were got ready and the manager of the hotel +asked them again if they had need of nothing else. + +"What are you going to do?" said Laura to her brother. + +"I am going to stretch myself out in bed for a while." + +"Lunch at half-past twelve." + +"Good, I will get up at that time." + +"Good-bye, _bambino_. Have a good rest. Put on your black suit to come +to the table." + +"Very well." Caesar stretched himself on the bed, slept off and on, +somewhat feverish from fatigue, and at about twelve he woke at the noise +they made in bringing his luggage into the room. He got up to open the +trunks, washed and dressed, and when the customary gong resounded, he +presented himself in the salon. + +Laura was chatting with two young ladies and an older lady, the Countess +of San Martino and her daughters. They were in Rome for the season and +lived regularly in Venice. + +Laura introduced her brother to these ladies, and the Countess pressed +Caesar's hand between both of hers, very affectionately. + +The Countess was tiny and dried-up: a mummy with the face of a +grey-hound, her skin close to her bones, her lips painted, little +penetrating blue eyes, and great vivacity in her movements. She dressed +in a showy manner; wore jewels on her bosom, on her head, on her +fingers. + +The daughters looked like two little blond princesses: with rosy cheeks, +eyebrows like two golden brush-strokes, almost colourless, clear blue +eyes of a heavenly blue, and such small red lips, that on seeing them, +the classical simile of cherries came at once to one's mind. + +The Countess of San Martino asked Caesar like a shot if he was married +and if he hadn't a sweetheart. Caesar replied that he was a bachelor and +that he had no sweetheart, and then the Countess came back by asking if +he felt no vocation for matrimony. + +"No, I believe I don't," responded Caesar. + +The two young women smiled, and their mother said, with truly diverting +familiarity, that men were becoming impossible. Afterwards she added +that she was anxious for her daughters to marry. + +"When one of these children is married and has a _bambino_, I shall be +more contented! If God sent me a _cheru-bino del cielo_, I shouldn't be +more so." + +Laura laughed, and one of the little blondes remarked with aristocratic +indifference: "Getting married comes first, mamma." + +To this the Countess of San Martino observed that she didn't understand +the behaviour of girls nowadays. + +"When I was a young thing, I always had five or six beaux at once; +but my daughters haven't the same idea. They are so indifferent, so +superior!" + +"It seems that you two don't take all the notice you should," said +Caesar to the girls in French. + +"You see what a mistake it is," answered one of them, smiling. + +The last round of the gong sounded and various persons entered the +salon. Laura knew the majority of them and introduced them, as they +came, to her brother. + + + +_OBSERVATIONS BY CAESAR_ + +The waiter appeared at the door, announced that lunch was ready, and +they all passed into the dining-room. + +Laura and her brother were installed at a small table beside the window. + +The dining-room, very large and very high, flaunted decorations copied +from some palace. They consisted of a tapestry with garlands of flowers, +and medallions. In each medallion were the letters S.P.Q.R. and various +epicurean phrases of the Romans: "_Carpe diem. Post mortem nulla +voluptas_," et cetera. + +"Beautiful decoration, but very cold," said Caesar. "I should prefer +rather fewer mottoes and a little more warmth." + +"You are very hard to please," retorted Laura. + +Shortly after getting seated, everybody began to talk from table to +table and even from one end of the room to the other. There was none of +that classic coolness among the people in the hotel which the English +have spread everywhere, along with underdone meat and bottled sauces. + +Caesar devoted himself for the first few moments to ethnology. + +"Even from the people you find here, you can see that there is a great +diversity of ethnic type in Italy," he said to Laura. "That blond boy +and the Misses San Martino are surely of Saxon origin; the waiter, on +the other hand, swarthy like that, is a Berber." + +"Because the blond boy and the San Martines are from the North, and the +waiter must be Neapolitan or Sicilian. + +"Besides, there is still another type: shown by that dark young woman +over there, with the melancholy air. She must be a Celtic type. What +is obvious is that there is great liveliness in these people, great +elegance in their movements. They are like actors giving a good +performance." + +Caesar's observations were interrupted by the arrival of a dark, plump +woman, who came in from the street, accompanied by her daughter, a blond +girl, fat, smiling, and a bit timid. + +This lady and Laura bowed with much ceremony. + +"Who is she?" asked Caesar in a low tone. + +"It is the Countess Brenda," said Laura. + +"Another countess! But are all the women here countesses?" + +"Don't talk nonsense." + +At the other end of the dining-room a young Neapolitan with the +expression of a Pulcinella and violent gestures, raised his sing-song +voice, talking very loud and making everybody laugh. + +After lunching, Caesar went out to post some cards, and as it was +raining buckets, he took refuge in the arcades of the Piazza Esedra. + +When he was tired of walking he returned to the hotel, went to his room, +turned on the light, and started to continue his unfinished perusal of +Proudhon's book on the speculator. + +And while he read, there came from the salon the notes of a Tzigane +waltz played on the piano. + + + +_ART, FOR DECEIVED HUSBANDS_ + +Caesar was writing something on the margin of a page when there came a +knock at his door. "Come in," said Caesar. + +It was Laura. + +"Where are you keeping yourself?" she asked. + +"Here I am, reading a little." + +"But my dear man, we are waiting for you." + +"What for?" + +"The idea, what for? To talk." + +"I don't feel like talking. I am very tired." + +"But, _bambino; Benedetto_. Are you going to live your life avoiding +everybody?" + +"No; I will come out tomorrow." + +"What do you want to do tonight?" + +"Tonight! Nothing." + +"Don't you want to go to the theatre?" + +"No, no; I have a tremendously weak pulse, and a little fever. My hands +are on fire at this moment." + +"What foolishness!" + +"It's true." + +"So then you won't come out?" + +"No." + +"All right. As you wish." + +"When the weather is good, I will go out." + +"Do you want me to fetch you a Baedeker?" + +"No, I have no use for it." + +"Don't you intend to look at the sights, either?" + +"Yes, I will look willingly at what comes before my eyes; it wouldn't +please me if the same thing happened to me that took place in Florence." + +"What happened to you in Florence?" + +"I lost my time lamentably, getting enthusiastic over Botticelli, +Donatello, and a lot of other foolishness, and when I got back to London +it cost me a good deal of work to succeed in forgetting those things and +getting myself settled in my financial investigations again. So that +now I have decided to see nothing except in leisure moments and without +attaching any importance to all those fiddle-faddles." "But what +childishness! Is it going to distract you so much from your work, from +that serious work you have in hand, to go and see a few pictures or some +statues?" + +"To see them, no, not exactly; but to occupy myself with them, yes. +Art is a good thing for those who haven't the strength to live, in +realities. It is a good form of sport for old maids, for deceived +husbands who need consolation, as hysterical persons need morphine...." + +"And for strong people like you, what is there?" asked Laura, +ironically. + +"For strong people!... Action." + +"And you call lying in bed, reading, action?" + +"Yes, when one reads with the intentions I read with." + +"And what are they? What is it you are plotting?" + +"I will tell you." + +Laura saw that she could not convince her brother, and returned to the +salon. A moment before dinner was announced Caesar got dressed again in +black, put on his patent-leather shoes, looked at himself offhandedly in +the mirror, saw that he was all right, and joined his sister. + + + + +V + +THE ABBE PRECIOZI + +_THE BIG BIRDS IN ROME_ + + +The next day Caesar awoke at nine, jumped out of bed, and went to +breakfast. Laura had left word that she would not eat at home. Caesar +took an umbrella and went out into the street. The weather was very dark +but it held off from rain. + +Caesar took the Via Nazionale toward the centre of town. Among the +crowd, some foreigners with red guide-books in their hands, were walking +with long strides to see the sights of Rome, which the code of worldly +snobbishness considers it indispensable to admire. + +Caesar had no settled goal. On a plan of the city, hung in a newspaper +kiosk, he found the situation of the Piazza Esedra, the hotel and the +adjacent streets, and continued slowly ahead. + +"How many people there must be who are excited and have an irregular +pulse on arriving for the first time in one of these historic towns," +thought Caesar. "I, for my part, was in that situation the first time I +clearly understood the mechanism of the London Exchange." + +Caesar continued down the Via Nazionale and stopped in a small square +with a little garden and a palm. Bounding the square on one side arose +a greenish wall, and above this wall, which was adorned with statues, +stretched a high garden with magnificent trees, and among them a great +stone pine. + +"A beautiful garden to walk in," said Caesar. "Perhaps it is an historic +spot, perhaps it isn't. I am very happy that I don't know either its +name or its history, if it really has one." From the same point in the +Via Nazionale, a street with flights of steps could be seen to the left, +and below a white stone column. + +"Nothing doing; I don't know what that is either," thought Caesar; "the +truth is that one is terribly ignorant. To make matters even, what a +well of knowledge about questions of finance there is in my cranium!" + +Caesar continued on to the Piazza Venezia, contemplated the palace of +the Austrian Embassy, yellow, battlemented; and stopped under a big +white umbrella, stuck up to protect the switchman of the tramway. + +"Here, at least, the weight of tradition or history is not noticeable. I +don't believe this canvas is a piece of Brutus's tunic, or of Pompey's +campaign tent. I feel at home here; this canvas modernizes me." + +The square was very animated at that moment: groups of seminarians were +passing in robes of black, red, blue, violet, and sashes of contrasting +colours; monks of all sorts were crossing, smooth-shaven, bearded, in +black, white, brown; foreign priests were conversing in groups, wearing +little dishevelled hats adorned with a tassel; horrible nuns with +moustaches and black moles, and sweet little white nuns, with a +coquettish air. + +The clerical fauna was admirably represented. A Capuchin friar, +long-bearded and dirty, with the air of a footpad, and an umbrella by +way of a blunderbuss or musket under his arm, was talking to a Sister of +Charity. + +"Undoubtedly religion is a very picturesque thing," murmured Caesar. "A +spectacular impressario would not have the imagination to think out all +these costumes." + +Caesar took the Corso. Before he reached the Piazza Colonna it began to +rain. The coachmen took out enormous umbrellas, all rolled up, opened +them and stood them in iron supports, in such a way that the box-seat +was as it were under a campaign tent. + +Caesar took refuge in the entrance to a bazaar. The rain began to assume +the proportions of a downpour. An old friar, with a big beard, a white +habit, and a hood, armed with an untamable umbrella, attempted to cross +the square. The umbrella turned inside out in the gusts of wind, and his +beard seemed to be trying to get away from his face. + +"Pavero frate!" said one of the crowd, smiling. + +A priest passed hidden under an umbrella. A tough among the refugees in +the bazaar-doorway said that you couldn't tell if it was a woman or a +priest, and the cleric, who no doubt heard the remark, threw a severe +and threatening look at the group. + +It stopped raining, and Caesar continued his walk along the Corso. He +went a bit out of his way to throw a glance at the Piazza di Spagna. +The great stairway in that square was shining, wet with the rain; a few +seminarians in groups were going up the steps toward the Pincio. + +Caesar arrived at the Piazza del Popolo and stopped near some +ragamuffins who were playing a game, throwing coins in the air. A +tattered urchin had written with charcoal on a wall: "Viva Musolino!" +and below that he was drawing a heart pierced by two daggers. + +"Very good," murmured Caesar. "This youngster is like me: an advocate of +action." + +It began to rain again; Caesar decided to turn back. He took the same +route and entered a caf on the Corso for lunch. The afternoon turned +out magnificent and Caesar went wandering about at random. + + + +_THE CICERONE_ + +At twilight he returned to his inn, changed, and went to the salon. +Laura was conversing with a young abb. "The Abb Preciozi.... My +brother Caesar." + +The Abb Preciozi was one of the household of Cardinal Fort, who had +sent him to the hotel to act as cicerone to his nephew. + +"Uncle has sent the abb so that he can show you Rome." "Oh, many +thanks!" answered Caesar. "I will make use of his knowledge; but I +don't want him to neglect his occupations or to put himself out on my +account." "No, no. I am at your disposition," replied the abb, "His +Eminence has given me orders to wait on you, and it will not put me out +in the least." + +"You will have dinner with us, Preciozi?" said Laura. + +"Oh, Marchesa! Thank you so much!" + +And the abb bowed ceremoniously. + +The three dined together, and afterwards went to the salon to chat. +One of the San Martino young ladies played the viola and the other the +piano, and people urged them to exhibit their skill. + +The talkative Neapolitan turned over the pieces of music in the +music-stand, and after discussing with the two _contessinas_, he placed +on the rack the "Intermezzo" from _Cavalleria Rusticana_. + +The two sisters played, and the listeners made great eulogies about +their ability. + +Laura presented Caesar and the Abb Preciozi to the Countess Brenda and +to a lady who had just arrived from Malta. + +"Did you know Rome before?" the Countess asked Caesar in French. + +"No." + +"And how does it strike you?" + +"My opinion is of no value," said Caesar. "I am not an artist. Imagine; +my specialty is financial questions. Up to the present what has given me +the greatest shock is to find that Rome has walls." + +"You didn't know it?" asked Laura. + +"No." + +"Dear child, I find that you are very ignorant." + +"What do you wish?" replied Caesar in Spanish. "I am inclined to be +ignorant of everything I don't get anything out of." + +Caesar spoke jokingly of a square like a hole in the ground, out of +which rises a white column similar to the one in Paris in the Place +Vendme. + +"What does he mean? Trajan's column?" asked Preciozi. "It must be," said +Laura. "I have a brother who's a barbarian. Weren't you in the Forum, +too?" + +"Which is the Forum? An open space where there are a lot of stones?" + +"Yes." + +"I passed by there; there were a good many tourists, crowds of young +ladies peering intently into corners and a gentleman with a bag over his +shoulder who was pointing out some columns with an umbrella. Afterwards +I saw a ticket-window. 'That doubtless means that one pays to get in,' I +said, and as the ground was covered with mud and I didn't care to wet my +feet, I asked a young rascal who was selling post-cards what that place +was. I didn't quite understand his explanation, which I am sure was very +amusing. He confused Emperors with the Madonna and the saints. I gave +the lad a lira and had some trouble in escaping from there, because he +followed me around everywhere calling me Excellency." + +"I think Don Caesar is making fun of us," said Preciozi. + +"No, no." + +"But really, how did Rome strike you, on the whole?" asked the abbe. + +"Well, I find it like a mixture of a monumental great city and a +provincial capital." + +"That is possible," responded the abbe. "Undoubtedly the provincial city +is more of a city than the big modern capitals, where there is nothing +to see but fine hotels on one hand and horrible hovels on the other. If +you came from America, like me, you would see how agreeable you would +find the impression of a city that one gets here. To forget all the +geometry, the streets laid out with a compass, the right angles...." + +"Probably so." + +The abbe seemed to have an interest in gaining Caesar's friendship. +Caesar said to him that, if he wished, they could go to his room to chat +and smoke. The abbe accepted with gusto, and Caesar, being a suspicious +person, wondered if the Cardinal might have sent the abbe to find out +what sort of man he was. Then he considered that his ideas must be of no +importance whatsoever to his uncle; but on the chance, he set himself +to throwing the abb off the scent, talking volubly and emitting +contradictory opinions about everything. + +After chattering a long while and devoting himself to free paradox, +Caesar thought that for the first session he had not done altogether +badly. Preciozi took leave, promising to come back the next day. + +"If he reports our conversation to my uncle, the man won't know what to +think of me," reflected Caesar, on going to bed. "It would not be too +much to expect, if His Eminence became interested and sent to fetch me. +But I don't believe he will; my uncle cannot be intelligent enough to +have the curiosity to know a man like me." + + + + +VI + +THE LITTLE INTERESTS OF THE PEOPLE IN A ROMAN HOTEL + +_INTIMACIES_ + + +During some days the main interest of the people in the hotel was the +growing intimacy established between the Marchesa Sciacca, who was the +lady from Malta, and the Neapolitan with the Pulcinella air, Signor +Carminatti. + +The Maltese must have been haughty and exclusive, to judge from the +queenly air she assumed. Only with the handsome Neapolitan did she +behave amiably. + +In the dining-room the Maltese sat with her two children, a boy and a +girl, at the other end from where Caesar and Laura were accustomed +to sit. At her side, at a table close by, chattered and jested the +diplomatic Carminatti. + +The Marquis of Sciacca was ill with diabetes; he had come to Rome +to take a treatment, and during these days he did not come to the +dining-room. + +The Marchesa was one of those mixed types, unharmonious, common among +mongrel races. Her black hair shone like jet, her lips looked like an +Egyptian's, and her eyes of a very light blue showed off in a curious +way in her bronzed face. She powdered her face, she painted her lips, +she shaded her eyes with kohl. Her appearance was that of a proud, +revengeful woman. + +She ate with much nicety, opening her mouth so little that she could put +no more than the tip of her spoon between her lips; with her children +she talked English and Italian in equal perfection, and when she heard +young Carminatti's facetious remarks she laughed with marked impudence. +Signer Carminatti was tall, with a black moustache, a hooked nose, +well-formed languid eyes, lively and somewhat clownish gestures; he was +at the same time sad and merry, melancholy and smiling, he changed his +expression every moment. He was in the habit of appearing in the salon +in a dinner-jacket, with a large flower in his button-hole and two or +three fat diamonds on his chest. He would come along dragging his feet, +would bow, make a joke, stand mournful; and this fluency of expression, +and these gesticulations, gave him a manner halfway between woman and +child. + +When he grew petulant, especially, he seemed like a woman. "Macch!" +he would say continually, with an acrid voice and the disgusted air of +an hysterical dame. + +In spite of his frequent petulant fits, he was the person most esteemed +by the ladies of the hotel, both young and married. + +"He is the darling of the ladies," the Countess Brenda said of him, +mockingly. + +Laura had not the least use for him. + +"I know that type by heart," she asserted with disdain. + +During lunch and dinner Signor Carminatti did not leave off talking for +a moment with the Maltese. The Marchesa Sciacca's children often wanted +to tell their mother something; but she hushed them so as to be able to +hear the bright sayings of the handsome Neapolitan. + +The San Martino young ladies and the Countess Brenda's daughter kept +trying to find a way to steal Carminatti for their group; but he always +went back to the Maltese, doubtless because her conversation was more +diverting and spicy. + + + +_THE CONTESSINA BRENDA_ + +The Countess Brenda's daughter, Beatrice Brenda, in spite of her pea-hen +air, was always endeavouring to stir up the Neapolitan and to start a +conversation with him; but Carminatti in his light-hearted way would +reply with a jest or a fatuous remark and betake himself again to the +Marchesa Sciacca, who would make her disturbing children hush because +they often prevented her from catching what the Neapolitan was saying. + +She was not to be despised, not by a long shot, was Signorina Bice, not +in any respect; besides being very rich, she was a beautiful girl and +promised to be more beautiful; she had the type of Titian's women, an +opaline white skin, as though made of mother-of-pearl, plump milky arms, +and dark eyes. The one thing lacking in her was expression. + +She used frequently to go about in the company of an aristocratic +old maid, very ugly, with red hair and a face like a horse, but very +distinguished, who ate at the next table to Laura and Caesar. + +One day Carminatti brought another Neapolitan home to dinner with him, +a fat grotesque person, whom he instigated to emit a series of +improprieties about women and matrimony. Hearing the scandalous sallies +of the rustic, the ladies said, with an amiable smile: + +"He is a _benedetto_." + +The Contessina Brenda, fascinated by the Neapolitan, went to the +Marchesa Sciacca's table. As she passed, Carminatti arose with his +napkin in one hand, and gesticulating with the other, said: + +"Contessina. Allow me to present to you Signor Cappagutti, a merchant +from Naples." + +Signor Cappagutti remained leaning back tranquilly in his chair, and the +Contessina burst out laughing and began to move her arms as if somebody +had put a horse-fly on her skirt. Then she raised her hand to her face, +to hide her laughter, and suddenly sat down. + + + +_DANCING_ + +As it rained a great deal the majority of the guests preferred not to go +out. In the evenings they had dances. Caesar did not appear at the first +one; but his sister told him he ought to go. Caesar was at the second +dance, so as not to seem too much of an ogre. As he had no intention of +dancing, he installed himself in a comer; and while the dance went on he +kept talking with the Countesses Brenda and San Martino. + +Various young men had arrived in the room. They exhibited that Southern +vivacity which is a trifle tiresome to the onlooker, and they all +listened to themselves while they spoke. The Neapolitan and two or three +of his friends were introduced to Caesar; but they showed him a certain +rather ostentatious and impertinent coolness. + +Signor Carminatti exchanged a few words with the Countess Brenda, and +purposely acted as if he did not notice Caesar's presence. + +The Neapolitan's chatter did not irritate Caesar in the slightest, and +as he had no intention of being his rival, he listened to him quite +entertained. + +Caesar noted that the San Martino ladies and some friends of theirs +had a predilection for types like Carminatti, swarthy, prattling, and +boastful South Italians. + +The ladies showed an affectionate familiarity with the girls; they +caressed them and kissed them effusively. + + + +_YOU ARE AN INQUISITOR_ + +Laura, who was dancing with an officer, approached her brother, who was +wedged into a corner, behind two rows of chairs. + +"What are you doing here?" she asked him, stopping and informing her +partner that she was going to sit down a moment. + +"Nothing," answered Caesar, "I am waiting for this waltz to finish, so +that I can get away." + +"You are not enjoying yourself?" + +"Pish!" + +"Nevertheless, there are amusing things about it." + +"Ah, surely. Do you know what happened to me with the Countess Brenda?" + +"What did happen?" + +"When she came in and gave me her hand, she said: 'How hot your hands +are; mine are frozen.' And she held my hands between hers. That was +comical." + +"Comical! Why?" + +"How do I know?" + +"It is comical to you, because you see only evil motives. She held your +hand. Who knows what she may be after? Who knows if she wants to get +something out of you? She has an income of eighty or ninety thousand +lire, perhaps she wants to borrow money from you." + +"No, I know she doesn't." + +"Then, what are you afraid of?" + +"Afraid! Afraid of nothing! Only it surprised me." + +"That's because you look at everything with the eye of an inquisitor. +One must be suspicious: be always on one's guard, always on the watch. +It's the attitude of a savage." + +"I don't deny it. I have no desire to be civilized like these people. +But what does come to me is that the husband of our illustrious and +wealthy friend wears in his breast that porte-bonheur, which I believe +is called horns." + +"Of course; and you haven't discovered that his family is a family of +assassins? How Spanish! What a savage Spaniard I have for a brother!" + +Caesar burst into laughter, and taking advantage of the moment when +everybody was going to the buffet, left the room. In the corridor, one +of the San Martino girls, the more sweet and angelic of the two, was in +a corner with one of the dancers, and there was a sound like a kiss. + +The little blonde made an exclamation of fright; Caesar behaved as if he +had noticed nothing and kept on his way. + +"The devil!" exclaimed Caesar, "that angelic little princess hides in +corners with one of these _briganti_. And their mother has the face to +say that they don't know how to bait a hook! I don't know what more she +could wish. Although it is possible that this is the educational scheme +of the future for marriageable girls." + +In the entrance-hall of the hotel were the Marchesa Sciacca's two +children, attended by a sleeping maid; the little girl, seated on a +sofa, was watching her brother, who walked from one side to the other +with a roll of paper in his hand. In the entrance hall, opposite the +hotel door, there was a bulletin, which was changed every day, to +announce the different performances that were to be given that night at +the theatres of Rome. + +The small boy walked back and forth in front of the poster, and +addressing himself to a public consisting of the sleeping maid and the +little girl, cried: + +"Step up, gentlemen! Step up! Now is the time. We are about to perform +_La Geisha_, the magnificent English operetta. Walk right in! Walk right +in!" + +While the mother was dancing with the Neapolitan in the ball-room, the +children were amusing themselves thus alone. + +"The truth is that our civilization is an absurdity. Even the children +go mad," thought Caesar, and took refuge in his room. + +During the whole night he heard from his bed the notes of the waltzes +and two-steps, and dancers' laughter and shouts and shuffling feet. + + + +_THEY ARE JUST CHILDREN_ + +The next day, Laura, before going out to make a call, appeared at +lunch-time most elegantly dressed, with a gown and a hat from Paris, in +which she was truly most charming. + +She had a great success: the San Martinos, the Countess Brenda, the +other ladies congratulated her. The hat, above all, seemed ideal to +them. + +Carminatti was in raptures. + +"E bello, bellissimo_," he said, with great enthusiasm, and all the +ladies agreed that it was _bellissimo_, lengthening the "s" and nodding +their heads with a gesture of admiration. + +"And you don't say anything to me, _bambino_?" Laura inquired of Caesar. + +"I say you are all right." + +"And nothing more?" + +"If you want me to pay you a compliment, I will tell you that you are +pretty enough to make incest legitimate." "What a barbarian!" murmured +Laura, half laughing, half blushing. + +"What has he been saying to you?" two or three people inquired. + +Laura translated his words into Italian, and Carminatti found them +admirable. + +"Very appropriate! Very witty!" he exclaimed, laughing, and gave Caesar +a friendly slap on the shoulder. + +The Marchesa Sciacca looked at Laura several times with reflective +glances and a rancorous smile. + +"The truth is that these Southern people are just children," thought +Caesar, mockingly. "What an inveterate preoccupation they have in the +beautiful." + +The Neapolitan was one of those most preoccupied with esthetics. + +Caesar had a room opposite Signor Carminatti's, and the first few days +he had thought it was a woman's room. Toilet flasks, sprays, boxes of +powder; the room looked like a perfumery shop. + +"It is curious," Caesar used to think, "how these people from famous +historic towns can combine powder and the _maffia_, opoponax and +daggers." + +Almost every night after dinner there was an improvised dance in the +salon. Somebody played the languorous waltzes of the Tzigane orchestras +on the piano. The Maltese and Carminatti used to sing romantic songs, of +the kind whose words and music seem to be always the same, and in which +there invariably is question of panting, refulgent, love, and other +suggestive words. + +One Sunday evening, when it was raining, Caesar stayed in the hotel. + +In the salon Carminatti was doing sleight-of-hand to entertain the +ladies. Afterwards the Neapolitan was seen pursuing the Marchesa Sciacca +and the two San Martino girls in the corridors. They shrieked shrilly +when he grabbed them around the waist. The devil of a Neapolitan was an +expert at sleight-of-hand. + + + +VII + +THE CONFIDENCES OF THE ABBE PRECIOZI + +_NATURAL VARIETIES OF NOSES AND EXPRESSIONS_ + + +Caesar admitted before his conscience that he had no plans, or the +slightest idea what direction to take. The Cardinal, no doubt, did not +feel any desire to know him. + +Caesar often proceeded by more or less absurd hypotheses. "Suppose," he +would think, "that I had an idea, a concrete ambition. In that case it +would behoove me to be reserved on such and such topics and to hint +these and those ideas to people; let's do it that way, even though it be +only for sport." + +Preciozi was the only person who was able to give him any light in +his investigations, because the guests at the hotel, most of them, on +account of their position, thought of nothing but amusing themselves and +of giving themselves airs. + +Caesar discovered that Preciozi was ambitious; but besides lacking an +opening, he had not the necessary vigour and imagination to do anything. + +The abb spoke a macaronic Spanish, which he had learned in South +America, and which provoked Caesar's laughter. He was constantly saying: +"My friend," and he mingled Gallicisms with a lot of coarse expressions +of Indian or mulatto origin, and with Italian words. Preciozi's dialect +was a gibberish worthy of Babel. + +The first day they went out together, the abb wanted to show him divers +of Rome's picturesque spots. He led him behind the Quirinal, through +the Via della Panetteria and the Via del Lavatore, where there is a +fruit-market, to the Trevi fountain. "It is beautiful, eh?" said the +abb. + +"Yes; what I don't understand," replied Caesar, "is why, in a town where +there is so much water, the hotel wash-basins are so small." + +Preciozi shrugged his shoulders. + +"What types you have in Rome!" Caesar went on. "What a variety of noses +and expressions! Jesuits with the aspect of savants and plotters; +Carmelites with the appearance of highway men; Dominicans, some with +a sensual air, others with a professorial air. Astuteness, intrigue, +brutality, intelligence, mystic stupor.... And as for priests, what a +museum! Decorative priests, tall, with white shocks of hair and big +cassocks; short priests, swarthy and greasy; noses thin as a knife; +warty, fiery noses. Gross types; distinguished types; pale bloodless +faces; red faces.... What a marvellous collection!" + +Preciozi listened to Caesar's observations and wondered if the +Cardinal's nephew might be a trifle off his head. + +"Point out what is noteworthy, so that I may admire it enough," Caesar +told him. "I don't care to burst out in an enthusiastic phrase for +something of no value." + +Preciozi laughed at these jokes, as if they were a child's bright +sayings; but at times Caesar appeared to him to be an innocent soul, and +at other times a Machiavellian who dissembled his insidious purposes +under an extravagant demeanour. + +When Preciozi was involved in some historic dissertation, Caesar used to +ask him ingenuously: + +"But listen, abbe; does this really interest you?" + +Preciozi would admit that the past didn't matter much to him, and then +with one accord, they would burst out laughing. + +Caesar said that Preciozi and he were the most anti-historic men going +about in Rome. + +One morning they went to the Piazza del Campidoglio. It was drizzling; +the wet roofs shone; the sky was grey. + +"This intrusion of the country into Rome," said Caesar, "is what gives +the city its romantic aspect. These hills with trees on them are very +pretty." + +"Only pretty, Don Caesar? They are sublime," retorted Preciozi. + +"What amazement I shall produce in you, my dear abb, when I tell you +that all my knowledge in respect to the Capitol reduces itself to the +fact that some orator, I don't know who, said that near the Capitol is +the Tarpeian Rock." + +"You know nothing more about it?" + +"Nothing more. I don't know if Cicero said that, or Castelar, or Sir +Robert Peel." + +Preciozi burst into merry laughter. + +"What statue is that?" asked Caesar, indicating the one in the middle of +the square. + +"That is Marcus Aurelius." + +"An Emperor?" + +"Yes, an Emperor and a philosopher." + +"And why have they made him riding such a little, potbellied horse?" + +"I don't know, man." + +"He looks like a man taking a horse to water at a trough. Why does he +ride bare-back? Hadn't they invented stirrups at that period?" + +Preciozi was a bit perplexed; before making a reply he gazed at the +statue, and then said, confusedly: + +"I think so." + +They crossed the Piazza Campidoglio and went out by the left side of the +Palazzo del Senatore. Down the Via dell' Arco di Severo, a street that +runs down steps to the Forum, they saw a large arch that seemed sunk in +the ground, and beyond, further away, another smaller arch with only one +archway, which arose in the distance as if on top of the big arch. A +square yellow tower, burned by the sun, lifted itself among the ruins; +some hills showed rows of romantic cypresses, and in the background the +blue Alban Mountains stood out against a grey sky. + +"Would you like to go down to the Forum?" said the abb. "Down there +where the stones are? No. What for?" + +"Do you wish to see the Tarpeian Rock?" + +"Yes, man. But explain to me what this rock was." + +Preciozi got together all his information, which was not much. + +They went by the Via Monte Tarpea, and came back by the Via della +Consolazione. + +"They must have thrown people who were already dead off the Tarpeian +Rock," said Caesar, after hearing the explanation. + +"No, no." + +"But if they threw them down alive, the majority of those they chucked +down here would not have died. At most they would have dislocated an +arm, a leg, or a finger-joint. Unless they chucked them head first." + +Preciozi could not permit the mortal effects of the Tarpeian Rock to be +doubted, and he said that its height had been lessened and the level of +the soil had risen. + +After these explanations Caesar found the spot of Roman executions +somewhat less fantastic. + +"How would you like to go to that church in the Forum?" said Preciozi. + +"I was going to propose that we should go to the hotel; it must be +lunch-time." + +"Come along." + + + +_THE CHURCH AND COOKING_ + +Caesar had Marsala and Asti brought for the abbe, who was a gourmet. + +While Preciozi ate and drank with all his jaws, Caesar devoted himself +to teasing him. The waiter had brought some cream-puffs and informed +them that that was a dish every one ate that day. Laura and Preciozi +praised the puffs, and Caesar said: + +"What an admirable religion ours is! For each day the church has a saint +and a special dish. The truth is that the Catholic Church is very wise; +it has broken all relations with science, but it remains in harmony with +cooking. As Preciozi was a moment ago saying with great exactitude, +this close relation that exists between the Church and the kitchen is +moving." + +"I said that to you?" asked Preciozi. "What a falsehood!" + +"Don't pay any attention," said Laura. + +"Yes, my dear abb," retorted Caesar, "and I even believe that you added +confidentially that sometimes the Pope in the Vatican gardens, imitating +Francis I after the battle of Pavia, is wont to say sadly to the +Secretary of State: 'All is lost, save faith and ... good cooking.'" + +"What a_bufone! What a bufone!" exclaimed Preciozi, with his mouth +full. + +"You are giving a proof of irreligion which is in bad taste," said +Laura. "Only janitors talk like that." + +"On such questions I am an honourary janitor." + +"That's all right, but you ought to realize that there are religious +people here, like the abb...." + +"Preciozi? Why, he's a Voltairean." + +"Oh! Oh! My friend...." exclaimed Preciozi, emptying a glass of wine. + +"Voltaireanism," continued Caesar. "There is nobody here who has faith, +nobody who makes the little sacrifice of not eating on Fridays in Lent. +Here we are, destroying with our own teeth one of the most beautiful +works of the Church. You will both ask me what that work is...." + +"No, we will not ask you anything," said Laura, waving a hand in the +air. + +"Well, it is that admirable alimentary harmony sustained by the Church. +During the whole year we are authorized to eat terrestrial animals, and +in Lent aquatic ones only. Promiscuous as we are, we are undoing the +equilibrium between the maritime and the land forces, we are attacking +the peaceful rotation of meat and fish." + +"He is a child," said Preciozi, "we must leave him alone." + +"Yes, but that will not impede my Spaniard's heart, my Cardinal's +nephew's heart from bleeding grievously.... Shall we go to the caf, +Abb?" + +"Yes, let us go." + + + +_THE MARVELLOUS BIRD OF ROME_ + +They left the hotel and entered a caf in the Piazza Esedra. Preciozi +made a vague move to pay, but Caesar would not permit him to. + +"What do you wish to do?" said the abb. + +"Whatever you like." + +"I have to go to the Altemps palace a moment." + +"To see my uncle?" + +"Yes; then, if you feel like it, we can take a long walk." + +"Very good." + +They went towards the centre of the town by the Via Nazionale. It was a +splendid sunny afternoon. + +Preciozi went into the Altemps palace a moment; Caesar waited for him in +the street. Then, together they went over to opposite the Castel Sant' +Angelo, crossed the river, and approached the Piazza di San Pietro. The +atmosphere was wonderfully clear and pure; the suave blue sky seemed to +caress the pinnacles and decorations of the big square. + +Preciozi met a dirty friar, dark, with a black beard and a mouth from +ear to ear. The abbe showed no great desire to stop and speak with him, +but the other detained him. This party wore a habit of a brown colour +and carried a big umbrella under his arm. + +"There's a type!" said Caesar, when Preciozi rejoined him. + +"Yes, he is a peasant," the abbe said with disgust. + +"If that chap meets any one in the road, he plants his umbrella in his +chest, and demands his money or his ... eternal life." + +"Yes, he is a disagreeable man," agreed Preciozi. + +They continued their walk, through the Piazza Cavallegeri and outside +the walls. As they went up one of the hills there, they could see the +faade of Saint Peter's continually nearer, with all the huge stone +figures on the cornice. "The fact is that that poor Christ plays a sad +rle there in the middle," said Caesar. + +"Oh! Oh! My friend," exclaimed the abb in protest. + +"A plebeian Jew in the midst of so many princes of the Church! Doesn't +it strike you as an absurdity?" + +"No, not absurd at all." + +"The truth is that this religion of yours is Jewish meat with a Roman +sauce." + +"And yours? What is yours?" + +"Mine? I have not got past fetichism. I worship the golden calf. Like +the majority of Catholics." + +"I don't believe it." + +They looked back; they could see the dome of the great basilica shining +in the sun; then, to one side, a little viaduct and a tower. + +"What a wonderful bird you keep in this beautiful cage!" said Caesar. + +"What bird?" asked Preciozi. + +"The Pope, friend Preciozi, the Pope. Not the popinjay, but the Pope +in white. What a very marvellous bird! He has a feather fan like a +peacock's tail; he speaks like the cockatoo, only he differs from them +in being infallible; and he is infallible, because another bird, +also marvellous, which is called the Holy Ghost, tells him by night +everything that takes place on earth and in heaven. What very +picturesque and extravagant things!" + +"For you who have no faith everything must be extravagant." + +Caesar and Preciozi went on encircling the walls and reading the various +marble tablets set into them, and ascended to the Janiculum, to the +terrace where Garibaldi's statue stands. + + + +_POOR TINDARO_ + +"But, are you anti-Catholic, seriously?" asked Preciozi. "But do you +believe any one can be a Catholic seriously?" said Caesar. "I can, yes; +otherwise I shouldn't be a priest." + +"But are you a priest because you believe, or do you make believe that +you believe because you are a priest?" + +"You are a child. I suppose you hate the Jesuits, like all Liberals." + +"And I suppose you hate Masons, like all Catholics." + +"No." + +"No more do I hate Jesuits. What is worse, I read the life of Saint +Ignatius Loyola at school, and he seemed to me a great man." + +"Well, I should think so!" + +"And the Jesuits have some power still?" + +"Yes." + +"Really?" + +"Yes, man. They give the Church its direction. Oh, nobody fools the +Society. You can see what happened to Cardinal Tindaro." + +"I don't know what did happen to him," said Caesar, with indifference. + +"No?" + +"No." + +"Well, Cardinal Tindaro decided to follow the inspirations of the +Society and made many Jesuits Cardinals with the object that when Pope +Leo XIII died, they should elect him Pope; but the Jesuits smelled the +rat, and when Leo XIII got very ill, the Council of Assistants of the +Society had a meeting and decided that Tindaro should not be Pope, and +ordered the Austrian Court to oppose its veto. When the election came, +the Jesuit Cardinals gave Tindaro a fat vote, out of gratitude, but +calculated not to be enough to raise him to the throne, and in case it +was, the Austrian Cardinal and the Hungarian had their Empire's veto to +Tindaro's election in their pocket." + +"And this Tindaro, is he intelligent?" + +"Yes, he is indeed; very intelligent. Style Leo XIII." + +"Men of weight." + +"Yes, but neither of the two had Pius IX's spirit." "And the present +one? He is a poor creature, eh?" + +"I don't know, I don't know...." + +"And the Society of Jesus, is it on good terms with this Pope?" + +"Surely. He is their creation." + +"So that the Society is really powerful?" + +"It certainly is! Without a doubt! It has a pleasant rule, and +obedience, and knowledge, and money...." + +"It has money too, eh?" + +"Has it money? More than enough." + +"And in what form? In paper?" + +"In paper, and in property, and industries; in steamship companies, in +manufactories...." + +"I would make an admirable business manager." + +"Well, your uncle, the Cardinal, could get you put in touch with the +Society." + +"Is he a friend of theirs?" + +"Close as a finger-nail." + +Caesar was silent a moment, and then said: + +"And I have heard that the Society of Jesus was, at bottom, an +anti-Christian organization, a branch of Masonry...." + +"_Macch_!" exclaimed the abb. "How could you believe that? Oh, no, my +friend! What an absurdity!" + +Then, seeing Caesar burst into laughter, he calmed himself, wondering if +he was making fun of him. + +They went down the hill, where the monument to Garibaldi flaunts itself, +to the terrace of the Spanish Academy. + +The view was magnificent; the evening, now falling, was clear; the sky +limpid and transparent. From that height the houses of Rome were spread +out silent, with an air of solemnity, of immobility, of calm. It +appeared a flat town; one did not notice its slopes and its hills; it +gave the impression of a city in stone set under a glass globe. + +The sky itself, pure and diaphanous, augmented the sensation of +withdrawal and quietude; not a cloud on the horizon, not a spot of smoke +in the air; silence and repose everywhere. The dome of St. Peter's had +the colour of a cloud, the shrubberies on the Pincio were reddened by +the sun, and the Alban Hills disclosed the little white towns and the +smiling villas on their declivities. + +Preciozi pointed out domes and towers; Caesar did not hear him, and he +was thinking, with a certain terror: + +"We shall die, and these stones will continue to shine in the sunlight +of other winter evenings." + + + +_THE VATICAN FAMILY_ + +Making an effort with himself, he threw off this painful idea, and +turning to Preciozi, asked: + +"So you believe that I might have made a nice career in the Church?" + +"You! I certainly do think so!" exclaimed Preciozi. "With a cardinal for +uncle, _che carriera_ you could have made!" + +"But are there enough different jobs in the Church?" + +"From the Pope to the canons and the Papal Guards, you ought to see +all the hierarchies we have at the Vatican. First the Pope, then the +Cardinals in bishop's orders, next, the Cardinals in priest's +orders, then the Cardinal's in deacon's orders, the Secretaries, +the _compisteria_ of the Holy College of Cardinals, the Patriarchs, +Archbishops, Bishops, and the Pontifical Family." + +"Whose family is that? The Pope's?" + +"No; it is called that, as who should say, the General Staff of the +Vatican. It is made up of the Palatine Cardinals, the Palatine Prelates, +the Participating Privy Chamberlains, the Archbishops and Bishops +assisting the Pontifical throne, the Domestic Prelates, who form +the College of Apostolic Prothonotaries, the Pontifical Masters of +Ceremonies, the Princes Assisting the Throne, the Privy Participating +Cape-and-Sword Chamberlains, the Privy Numbered Cape-and-Sword +Chamberlains...." + +"Cape-and-Sword! Didn't I tell you that that poor Christ plays a sorry +part on the faade of Saint Peter's?" exclaimed Caesar. + +"Why, man?" + +"Because all this stuff about capes and swords doesn't seem very fitting +for the soul of a Christian. Unless, of course, the knights of the sword +and cape do not use the sword to wound and the cape for a shield, but +only wield the sword of Faith and the cape of Charity.... And haven't +you any gentlemen of Bed-and-Board, as they have at the Spanish Court?" + +"No." + +"That's a pity. It is so expressive,... bed and board. Bed and board, +cape and sword. Who wouldn't be satisfied? One must admit that there is +nobody equal to the Church, and next to her a monarchy, when it comes +to inventing pretty things. That is why it is said, and very well said, +that there is no salvation outside of the Church." + +"You are a pagan." + +"And I believe you are one, too." + +"_Macch_!" + +"What comes after all those Privy Cape-and-Sword Chamberlains, my dear +Abbe?" + +"Next, there is the Pontifical Noble Guard, the Swiss Papal Guard, +the Palatine Guard of Honour, the Corps of Papal Gendarmes, the Privy +Chaplains, the Privy Clerics, the suite of His Holiness. Next come the +members of the Palatine Administration, the Congregations, and more +Secretaries." + +"And do the Cardinals live well?" + +"Yes." + +"How much do they make?" + +"They get twenty thousand lire fixed salary, besides extras." + +"But that is very little!" + +"Certainly! It used to be much more, at the time of the Papal States. +Out of their twenty thousand lire they have to keep a carriage." + +"Those that aren't rich must have a hard time." + +"Just imagine, some of them have to live in a third-floor apartment. +There have been some that bought their red robes second-hand." + +"Really?" + +"Really." + +"Are those robes so expensive?" + +"Yes, they are expensive. Quite. They are made of a special cloth +manufactured in Cologne." + +"Are there many Cardinals who are not of rich families?" + +"A great many." + +"Well, you people have ruined that job." + +They went to Trastevere and there they took the tram. Preciozi got +out at the Piazza Venezia and Caesar went on to the end of the Via +Nazionale. + + + +_A TALK ABOUT MONEY_ + +"Where have you been?" asked Laura, on seeing him. + +"I've been taking a walk with the abbe." + +"It's evident that you find him more interesting than us women." + +"Preciozi is very interesting. He is a Machiavellian. He has a candour +that is assumed and a dulness that is assumed. He plays a little comedy +to get out of paying, at the caf or in the tram. He is splendid. I +think, if you will pardon me for saying so, that the Italians are damned +close." + +"People that have no money are forced to be economical." + +"No, that isn't so. I have known people in Madrid who made three pesetas +a day, and spent two treating a friend." + +"Yes, out of ostentation, out of a desire to show off. I don't like +pretentious people." + +"Well, I believe I prefer them to skinflints." + +"Yes, that's very Spanish. A man wasting money, while his wife and +children are dying of hunger.... The man who won't learn the value of +money is not the best type." + +"Money is filthy. If it were only possible to abolish it!" + +"For my part, son, I should like less to have it abolished than to have +a great deal of it." "I shouldn't. If I could carry out my plans, all I +should need afterwards would be a hut to live in, a garret." + +"Our ideas differ." + +"These people that need clothes and jewels and perfumes fairly nauseate +me.... All such things are only fit for Jews." + +"Then I must surely be a Jewess." + + + + +VIII + +OLD PALACES, OLD SALONS, OLD LADIES + +_THE CARDINAL UNCLE_ + + +As the Cardinal gave no indication of curiosity to see Caesar, Caesar +several times said to Laura: + +"We ought to call on uncle, eh?" + +"Do as you choose. He isn't very anxious to see you. Apparently he takes +you for an unbeliever." + +"All right, that has nothing to do with calling on him." + +"If you like I will go with you." + +The Cardinal lived in the Palazzo Altemps. That palace is situated in +the Via di S. Apellinare, opposite a seminary. The brother and sister +proceeded to the palace one morning, went up the grand staircase, and +in a reception-room they found Preciozi with two other priests, talking +together in low tones. + +One was a worn, pallid old man, with his nose and the borders of his +nasal appendage extremely red. Caesar considered that so red a nose in +that livid, ghastly face resembled a lantern in a melancholy landscape +lighted by the evening twilight. This livid person was the house +librarian. + +"His Eminence is very busy," said Preciozi, after bowing to the callers. +He spoke with a different voice from the one he used outside. "I will go +in, in a moment, and see if you can see him." + +Caesar stepped to the window of the reception-room: one could see the +court of the old palace and the colonnade surrounding it. + +"This house must be very large," he said. + +"You shall see it later, if you like," replied the abb. A little after +this Preciozi disappeared, and reappeared again in the opening of a +glass door, saying, in the discreetly lowered voice which was no doubt +that of his domestic functions: + +"This way, this way." + +They went into a large, cold, shabby room. Through an open door they +could see another bare salon, equally dark and sombre. + +The Cardinal was seated at a table; he was dressed as a monk and had the +air of being in a bad humour. Laura went promptly to him and kissed his +hand. Caesar bowed, and as the Cardinal did not deign to look at him, +remained standing, at some distance from the table. + +Laura, after having saluted her uncle as a pillar of the Church, talked +to him as a relative. The Cardinal cast a rapid glance at Caesar, and +then, scowling somewhat less, asked him if his mother was well and if he +expected to be long in Rome. + +Caesar, vexed by this frigid reception, answered shortly in a few cold +words, that all of them were well. + +The Cardinal's secretary, who was by the window assisting at the +interview, shot angry looks at Caesar. + +After a brief audience, which could not have lasted over five minutes, +the Cardinal said, addressing Laura: + +"Pardon me, my daughter, but I must go on with my work"; and +immediately, without a look at his nephew or his niece, he called the +secretary, who brought him a portfolio of papers. + +Caesar opened the glass door for Laura to pass. + +"Would you like to see the palace?" Preciozi asked them. "There are some +antique statues, magnificent marbles, and a chapel where Saint Aniceto's +body is preserved." + +"Let's leave Saint Aniceto's body for another day," Caesar replied +sardonically. + +Laura and Caesar went down the stairway. + +"There was no need to come, to behave like that," she said, upset. + +"How so?" + +"How so! You behaved like a savage, no more nor less." "No, he was the +one that behaved like a savage. I bowed to him, and he wasn't willing +even to look at me." + +"You made up for it by staring at him as if he had been some curious +insect in a cage." + +"It was his fault for not being even barely polite to me." + +"Do you think that a Cardinal is an ordinary person to whom you say: +'Hello! How are you? How's business?'" + +"I met an English Cabinet Minister in a club once and he was like +anybody else." + +"It's not the same thing." + +"Do you believe that perhaps our uncle considers that he fulfils a +providential mission, a divine mission?" + +"What a question! Of course he does." + +"Then he is a poor idiot. However, it's nothing to me. Our uncle is a +stupid fool." + +"You discovered that in such a little while?" + +"Yes. Fanatical, vain, fatuous, pleased with himself.... He is of no use +to me." + +"Ah, so you thought he would be of some use to you?" + +"Why not?" + +Her brother's arbitrary manner of taking things irritated and at the +same time amused Laura. + +She believed that he made it a rule to persist in always doing the +contrary to other people. + +Laura and her friends of both sexes used to run across one another in +museums, out walking in the popular promenades, and at the races. Caesar +didn't go to museums, because he said he had no artistic feeling; races +didn't interest him either; and when it came to walking, he preferred to +wander at random in the streets. + +As his memory was not full of historical facts, he experienced no great +esthetic or archeological thrills, and no sympathy whatsoever with the +various herds of tourists that went about examining old stones. + +At night, in the salon, he used to give burlesque descriptions, in +his laconic French, of street scenes: the Italian soldiers with +cock-feathers drooping from a sort of bowler hat, the porters of +the Embassies and great houses, with their cocked hats, their blue +great-coats, and the staff with a silver knob in their hands. + +The precise, jocose, biting report of his observations offended Laura +and her lady friends. + +"Why do you hate Italians so much?" the Countess Brenda asked him one +day. + +"But I don't hate them." + +"He speaks equally badly of everybody," explained Laura. "He has a bad +character." + +"Is it because you have had an unhappy life?" the Countess asked, +interested. + +"No, I don't think so," said Caesar, feeling like smiling; instead of +which, and without knowing why and without any reason, he put on a sad +look. + + + +_EXERCISES IN HYPOCRISY_ + +Laura, with her feminine perspicacity, noted that from that day on the +Countess looked at Caesar a great deal and with melancholy smiles; and +not only the mother appeared interested, but the daughter too. + +"I don't know what it is in my brother," thought Laura; "women are +attracted to him just because he pays no attention to them. And he knows +it; yes, indeed he does, even thought he acts as if he were unconscious +of it. Both mother and daughter taken with him! Carminatti has been +routed." + +The Countess quickly discovered a great liking for Laura, and as they +both had friends in good Roman society, they made calls together. Laura +was astonished enough to hear Caesar say that if there was no objection, +he would go with them. + +"But the majority of our friends are old ladies, devout old ladies." + +"All the better." + +"All right. But if you come, it is on condition that you say nothing +that would shock them." "Surely." + +Caesar accompanied the Countess Brenda and his sister to various +aristocratic houses, and at every one he heard the same conversation, +about the King, the Pope, the Cardinals, and how few or how many +people there were in the hotels. These topics, together with slanders, +constituted the favourite motive for conversation in the great world. + +Caesar conversed with the somewhat flaccid old ladies ("castanae +molles," as Preciozi called them) with perfect hypocrisy; he regarded +the classic decorations of the salons, and while he listened to rather +strange French and to most elegant and pure Italian, he wondered if +there might be somebody among all this Papal society whom he could use +to forward his ambitions. + +Sometimes among the guests he would meet a young "monsignor," discreetly +smiling, whose emerald ring it was necessary to kiss. Caesar would kiss +it and say to himself: "Let us practise tolerance with our lips." + +In many of these salons the mania for the English game called "bridge" +had caught with great violence. + +Caesar hated card-games. For a man who made a study of the +stock-exchange, the mechanism of a card-game was too stupid to arouse +any interest. But he had no objection to playing and losing. + +The Countesses Brenda and San Martino had "bridge-mania" very hard, and +they used to go to Brenda's room in the evening to play. + +After playing bridge a week, Caesar found that his money was insensibly +melting away. + +"Look here," he said to Laura. + +"What is it?" + +"You have got to teach me bridge." + +"I don't know how to play, because I have no head for such things and I +forget what cards have been played; but they gave me a little book on +the game. I will lend it to you, if you like." + +"Yes, give me it." + +Caesar read the book, learned the intricacies of the game, and the next +few evenings he acquitted himself so well that the Countess of San +Martino marched off to her room with burning cheeks and almost in tears. + +"What a cad you are!" Laura said to him at lunch some days later, +laughing. "You are fleecing those women." + +"It's their own fault. Why did they take advantage of my innocence?" + +"They have decided to go and play in Carminatti's room without telling +you." + +"I'm glad of it." + +"Do you know, _bambino_, I have to go away for a few days." + +"Where?" + +"To Naples. Come with me." + +"No; I have things to do here. I will take you to the station." + +"Ah, you rascal! You are a Don Juan." + +"No, dear sister. I am a financier." + +"I can see your victims from here. But I shall put them on their guard. +You are a blood-thirsty hyena. You like to collect hearts the way the +Red-skins did scalps." + +"You mean coupons." + +"No, hearts. You like to pretend to be simple, because you are wicked. I +will tell the Countess Brenda and her daughter." + +"What are you going to tell them?" + +"That you are wicked, that you have a hyena's heart, that you want to +ruin them." + +"Don't tell them that, because it will make them fall in love with me. A +hyena-hearted man is always run after by the ladies." + +"You are right. Come along, go to Naples with me." + +"Is your husband such a terrible bore, little sister?" + +"A little more cream and a little less impertinence, _bambino_," said +Laura, holding out her plate with a comic gesture. + +Caesar burst out laughing, and after lunch he took Laura to the station +and remained in Rome alone. His two chief occupations consisted in +making love respectfully to the Countess Brenda and going to walk with +Preciozi. + +The Countess Brenda was manifestly coming around; in the evening Caesar +would take a seat beside her and start a serious conversation about +religious and philosophical matters. The Countess was a well-educated +and religious woman; but beneath all her culture one could see the +ardent dark woman, still young, and with intense eyes. + +Caesar made it a spiritual training to talk to the Countess. She often +turned the conversation to questions of love, and discussed them with +apparent keenness and insight, but it was evident that all her ideas +about love came out of novels. Beyond a doubt, her calm, vulgar husband +did not fill up the emptiness of her soul, because the Countess was +discontented and had a vague hope that somewhere, above or beneath +the commonplaces of the day, there was a mysterious region where the +ineffable reigned. + +Caesar, who hadn't much faith in the ineffable, used to listen to her +with a certain amazement, as if the plump, strong woman had been a +visionary incapable of understanding reality. + +In the daytime Caesar went walking with Preciozi and they talked of +their respective plans. + + + +_SOLITARY WALKS_ + +Often Caesar went out alone, chewing the end of his thoughts as he +strolled in the streets, working out possible schemes of investments or +of politics. + +When he got away from the main streets, he kept finding some corner at +every step that left him astonished at its fantastic, theatrical air. +Suddenly he would discover himself before a high wall, on top of +which were statues covered with moss, or huge terra-cotta jars. Those +decorations would stand out against the dark foliage of the Roman ilex +and the tall, black cypresses. At the end of a street would rise a tall +palm, drooping its branches over a little square, or a stone pine, like +the one in the Aldobrandini garden. + +"These people were real artists," Caesar would murmur, and mean it as a +fact, not taking it for either praise or blame. + +His curiosity got excited, despite his determination not to resemble a +tourist in any way. The low windows of a palace would let him see lofty +ceilings with great stretches of painting, or decorated with medallions +and legends; a balcony would display a thick curtain of ivy that hid the +railings; here he would read a Latin inscription cut in a marble tablet, +there he would come upon a black lane between two old houses, with a +battered lantern at its entrance. In the part of town between the Corso +and the Tiber, which is full of narrow, crooked old streets, he loved to +wander until he was lost. + +Some details already familiar, he was delighted to see again; he always +halted to look down the Via della Pillotta, with its arches over the +street; and the little flower-market in the Piazza di Spagna always gave +him a sensation of joy. + +At dusk Caesar would walk in the centre of town; the bars filled up with +people who loved to take cakes and sweet wine; on the sidewalks the +itinerant merchants cried their trifling wares; along the Corso a +procession of carriages full of tourists passed rapidly, and a few +well-appointed victorias came driving back from the Pincio and the Villa +Borghese. + +Once in a while Caesar went out in the evening after dinner. There was +scant animation in the streets, theatres didn't interest him, and he +would soon return to the hotel salon to chat with the Countess Brenda. + +Later, in his room, he would write to Alzugaray, giving him his +impressions. + + + + +IX + +NEW ACQUAINTANCES + +"I PROTESTANTI DELLA SIMPATA" + + +It began again to rain disastrously; the days were made up of downpours +and squalls, to the great despair of the foreigners. + +At night the Piazza Esedra was a fine sight from the hotel balcony. The +arc lights reflected their glow in the lakes of rain beneath them, and +the great jet of the fountain in the centre took on tones of blue and +mother-of-pearl, where the rays of the electric light pierced through +it. + +In the hotel parlour one dance followed another. Everybody complained +gaily of the bad weather. + +Shortly before the middle of Lent there arrived a Parisian family at the +hotel, composed of a mother with two daughters and a companion. + +This family might be considered a representation of the _entente +cordiale_. The mother was French, the widow first of a Spaniard, Seor +Sandoval, by whom she had had one daughter, and then of an Englishman, +Mr. Dawson, by whom she had had another. + +Mme. Dawson was a fat, imposing lady, with tremendous brilliants in +her ears and somewhat theatrical clothes; Mile. Sandoval, the elder +daughter, was of Arab type, with black eyes, an aquiline nose, pale +rose-coloured lips, and a malicious smile, full of mystery, as if it +revealed restless and diabolical intentions. + +Her half-sister, Mile. Dawson, was a contrast, being the perfect type of +a grotesque Englishwoman, with a skin like a beet, and freckles. + +The governess, Mile. Cadet, was not at all pretty, but she was gay and +sprightly. These four women seated in the middle of the dining-room, a +little stiff, a little out of temper, seemed, particularly the first +few days, to defy anybody that might have wished to approach them. They +replied coolly to the formal bows of the other guests, and none of them +cared to take part in the dances. + +The handsome Signor Carminatti shot incendiary glances at Mlle. de +Sandoval; but she remained scornful; so one evening, as the Dawson +family came out of the dining-room, the Neapolitan waved his hand toward +them and said: + +"I protestante della simpatia." + +Caesar made much of this phrase, because it was apt, and he took it +that Carminatti considered the ladies protestants against friendliness, +because they had paid no attention to the charms that he displayed in +their honour. + + + +_CONSEQUENCES OF THE RAIN_ + +Two or three days later Mme. Dawson bowed to Caesar on passing him in +the hall, and asked him: + +"Aren't you Spanish?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"But don't you speak French?" + +"Very little." + +"My daughter is Spanish too." + +"She is a perfect Spanish type." + +"Really?" asked the daughter referred to. + +"Thoroughly." + +"Then I am happy." + +In the evening, after dinner, Caesar again joined Mme. Dawson and began +to talk with her. The Frenchwoman had a tendency to philosophize, to +criticize, and to find out everything. She had no great capacity for +admiration, and nothing she saw succeeded in dragging warm eulogies from +her lips. There was none of the "_bello! bellissimo!_" of the Italian +ladies in her talk, but a series of exact epithets. + +Mme. Dawson had left all her capacity for admiration in France, and was +visiting Italy for the purpose of arriving as soon as possible at the +conclusion that there is no town like Paris, no nation like the French, +and it didn't matter much to Caesar whether he agreed or denied it. + +Mlle. de Sandoval had a great curiosity about things in Spain and an +absurd idea about everything Spanish. + +"It seems impossible," thought Caesar, "how stupid French people are +about whatsoever is not French." + +Mlle. de Sandoval asked Caesar a lot of questions, and finally, with an +ironic gesture, said to him: + +"You mustn't let us keep you from going to talk with the Countess +Brenda. She is looking over at you a great deal." + +Caesar became a trifle dubious; indeed, the Countess was looking at him +in a fixed and disdainful way. + +"The Countess is a very intelligent woman," said Caesar; "I think you +would all like her very much." + +Mme. Dawson said nothing; Caesar rose, took his leave of the family, and +went over to speak to the Countess and her daughter. She received him +coldly. Caesar thought he would stay long enough to be polite and then +get away, when Carminatti, speaking to him in a very friendly way and +calling him "_mio caro_," asked him to introduce him to Mme. Dawson. + +He did so, and when he had left the handsome Neapolitan leaning back +in a chair beside the French ladies, he made the excuse that he had a +letter to write, and said good-night. + +"I see that you are an ogre," said Mlle. de Sandoval. + +"Do you want me for anything?" + +"No, no; you may go when you choose." + +Caesar repaired to his room. + +"I don't mind those people," he said; "but if they think I am a man made +for entertaining ladies, they are very clever." + +The next day Mme. Dawson talked with Caesar very affably, and Mlle. de +Sandoval made a few ironical remarks about his savage ways. + +Of all the family Caesar conceived that Mlle. Cadet was the most +intelligent. She was a French country girl, very jovial, blond, with a +turned-up nose, and on the whole insignificant looking. When she spoke, +her voice had certain falsetto inflexions that were very comical. + +Mlle. Cadet was on to everything the moment it happened. Caesar asked +her jokingly about the people in the hotel, and he was thunderstruck to +find that she had discovered in three or four days who all the guests +were and where they came from. + +Mlle. Cadet also told him that Carminatti had sent an ardent declaration +of love to the Sandoval girl the first day he saw her. + +"The devil!" exclaimed Caesar. "What an inflammable Neapolitan it is! +And what did she reply?" + +"What would she reply? Nothing." + +"As you are already familiar with everything going on here," said +Caesar, "I am going to ask you a question: what is the noise in the +court every night? I am always thinking of asking somebody." + +"Why, it is charging the accumulator of the lift," replied Mlle. Cadet. + +"You have relieved me from a terrible doubt which worried me." + +"I have never heard a noise," said Mlle. de Sandoval, breaking into the +conversation. + +"That's because your room is on the square," Caesar answered, "and the +noise is in the court; on the poor side of the house." + +"Pshaw! There is no reason to complain," remarked Mlle. Cadet, "if they +give us a serenade." + +"Do you consider yourself poor?" Mlle. de Sandoval asked Caesar, +disdainfully. + +"Yes, I consider myself poor, because I am." + +During the following days Mme. Dawson and her daughters were introduced +to the rest of the people in the hotel, and became intimate with them. +The "Contessina" Brenda and the San Martino girls made friends with the +French girls, and the Neapolitan and his gentlemen friends flitted among +them all. + +The Countess Brenda at first behaved somewhat stiff with Mme. Dawson and +her daughters, but later she little by little submitted and permitted +them to be her friends. + +She introduced the French ladies to the other ladies in the hotel; but +doubtless her aristocratic ideas would not allow her to consider Mlle. +Cadet a person worthy to be introduced, for whenever she got to her she +acted as if she didn't know her. + +The governess, noticing this repeated contempt, would blush at it, and +once she murmured, addressing Caesar with tears ready to escape from her +eyes: + +"That's a nice thing to do! Just because I am poor, I don't think they +ought to despise me." + +"Don't pay any attention," said Caesar, quite aloud; "these middle-class +people are often very rude." + +Mlle. de Sandoval gave Caesar a look half startled and half reproving; +and he explained, smiling: + +"I was telling Mlle. Cadet a funny story." + +Mme. Dawson and her daughters soon became friends with the most +distinguished persons in the hotel; only the Marchesa Sciacca, the +Maltese, avoided them as if they inspired her with profound contempt. + +In a few days the Countess Brenda and Caesar's friendship passed beyond +the bonds of friendship; but in the course of time it cooled off again. + + + +_INFLUENCE OF THE INCLINATION OF THE EARTH'S AXIS ON WHAT IS CALLED +LOVE_ + +One evening, when the Countess Brenda's daughter had left Rome to go +with her father to a villa they owned in the North, the Countess and +Caesar had a long conversation in the salon. They were alone; a great +tenor was singing at the Costanzi, and the whole hotel was at the +theatre. The Countess chatted with Caesar, she reclining in a chaise +longue, and he seated in a low chair. That evening the Countess was +feeling in a provocative humour, and she made fun of Caesar's mode of +life and his ideas, not with the phrases and the manners of a great +lady, but with the boldness and spice of a woman of the people. + +The angle that the earth's axis makes with the trajectory of the +ecliptic, and which produces those absurd phenomena that we Spaniards +call seasons, determined at that period the arrival of spring, and +spring had no doubt shaken the Countess Brenda's nerves. + +Spring gave cooling inflexions to the lady's voice and made her express +herself with warmth and with a shamelessly libertine air. + +No doubt the core of her personality was joyful, provoking, and somewhat +licentious. + +Her eyes flashed, and on her lips there was a sensual expression of +challenge and mockery. + +Caesar, that evening, without knowing why, was dull at expressing +himself, and depressed. Some of the Countess's questions left him in a +stupid unreadiness. + +"Poor child; I am sorry for you," she suddenly said. + +"Why?" + +"Because you are so weak; you have such an air of exhaustion. What do +you do to make you like this? I am sure you ought to be given some sort +of iron tonic, like the anaemic girls." + +"Do you really think I am so weak?" asked Caesar. + +"Isn't it written all over you?" + +"Well, anyway, I am stronger than you, Countess." + +"In a discussion, perhaps. But otherwise.... You have no strength except +in your brains." + +"And in my hands. Give me your hand." + +The Countess gave him her hand and Caesar pressed it tighter and +tighter. + +"You are strong after all," she said. + +"That is nothing. You wait," and Caesar squeezed the Countess's hand +until he made her give a sharp scream. A servant entered the salon. +"It's nothing," said the Countess, getting up; "I seemed to have turned +my foot." + +"I will take you to your room," exclaimed Caesar, offering her his arm. + +"No, no. Thanks very much." + +"Yes. It has to be." + +"Then, all right," she murmured, and added, "Now you frighten me." + +"Bah, you will get over that!" and Caesar went into her room with +her.... + +The next day Caesar appeared in the salon looking as if he had been +buried and dug up. + +"What is the matter?" Mme. Dawson and her daughters asked him. + +"Nothing; only I had a headache and I took a big dose of antipyrine." + +The relations of the Brenda lady and Caesar soon cooled. Their +temperaments were incompatible: there was no harmony between their +imaginations or between their skins. In reality, the Countess, with all +her romanticism, did not care for long and compromising liaisons, but +for hotel adventures, which leave neither vivid memories nor deep +imprints. Caesar noted that despite her lyricism and her sentimental +talk, there was a great deal of firmness in this plump woman, and a lack +of sensitiveness. + +Moreover, this woman, so little aristocratic in intimacy, had much +vanity about stupid things and a great passion for jewelry; but what +contributed most to making Caesar feel a profound hatred for her was +his discovering what good health she enjoyed. This good health seemed +offensive to Caesar, above all when he compared it to his own, to his +weak nerves and his restless brain. + +From considering her a spiritual and delicate lady he passed to +considering her a powerful mare, which deserved no more than a whip and +spurs. + +The love-affair contributed to upsetting Caesar and making him more +sarcastic and biting. This spiritual ulceration of Caesar's profoundly +astonished Mlle. Cadet. + +One day a Roman aristocrat, nothing less than a prince, came to call on +Mme. Dawson. He talked with her, with her daughters, and the Countess +Brenda, and held forth about whether the hotels in Rome were full or +empty, about the _pensions_, and the food in the restaurants, with a +great wealth of details; afterwards he lamented that Mme. Dawson, as a +relative of his, even though a very distant one, should have gone to a +ricevimento_ at the French Embassy, and he boasted of belonging to the +Black party in Rome. + +When he was gone, Mlle. Cadet came over to Caesar, who was sunk in an +arm-chair gazing at the ceiling, and asked him: + +"What did you think of the prince?" + +"What prince?" + +"The gentleman who was here talking a moment ago." + +"Ah, was he a prince?" + +"Yes." + +"As he talked about nothing but hotels, I took him to be the proprietor +of one." + +Mlle. Cadet told Mme. Dawson what Caesar had said, and she and her +daughters were amused at his error. + + + + +X + +A BALL + +A little later than the real day, they got up a ball at the hotel in +celebration of the French holiday Micarme. + +When Caesar was asked if he thought of going to the ball, he said no; +but Mlle. de Sandoval warned him that if he didn't go she would never +speak to him again, and Mme. Dawson and the governess threatened him +with like excommunication. + +"But you know, these balls are very amusing," said Mme. Dawson. + +"Do you think so?" + +"I do, and so do you." + +"Besides, an observer like you," added Mlle. Cadet, "can devote himself +to taking notes." + +"And why do you conclude that I am an observer?" asked Caesar. + +"The idea! Because it is evident." + +"And an observer with very evil intentions," insisted Mlle. de Sandoval. + +"You credit me with qualities I haven't got." + +Caesar had to accede, and the Dawson ladies and he were the first to +enter the salon and take their seats. In one corner was a glass vase +hung from the ceiling by a pulley. + +"What is that?" Mme. Dawson asked a servant. + +"It is a glass vase full of bonbons, which you have to break with a pole +with your eyes closed." + +"Ah, yes." + +Since nobody else came in, the Dawson girls and Caesar wandered about +looking into the cupboards and finding the Marchesa Sciacca's music and +the Neapolitan's. They looked out one of the salon windows. It was a +detestable night, raining and hailing; the great drops were bouncing on +the sidewalks of the Piazza Esedra. Water and hail fell mixed together, +and for moments at a time the ground would stay white, as if covered +with a thin coating of pearls. + +The fountain in the centre cast up its streams of water, which mingled +with the rain, and the central jet shone in the lays of the arc-lights; +now and again the livid brilliance of lightning illuminated the stone +arches and the rumbling of thunder was heard ... + +Still nobody else came to the salon. Doubtless the ladies were preparing +their toilets very carefully. + +The first to appear, dressed for the ball, were the Marchesa Sciacca and +her husband, accompanied by the inevitable Carminatti. + +The Marchesa, with her habitual brutality toward everybody that lived in +the house, bowed with formal coolness to Mme. Dawson, and sat down by +the piano, as far away as possible from the French ladies. + +She wore a gown of green silk, with lace and gold ornaments. She was +very dcollete and had a fretful air. Her husband was small and +stooped, with a long moustache and shiny eyes; on his cheek-bones were +the red spots frequent in consumptives, and he spoke in a sharp voice. + +"Are you acquainted with the Marquis?" Mme. Dawson asked Caesar. + +"Yes, he is a tiresome busybody," said Caesar, "the most boresome fellow +you could find. He stops you in the street to tell you things. The +other day he made me wait a quarter of an hour at the door of a tourist +agency, while he inquired the quickest way of getting to Moscow. 'Are +you thinking of going there?' I asked him. 'No; I just wanted to find +out ....' He is an idiot." + +"God preserve us from your comments. What will you be saying about us?" +exclaimed Mlle. de Sandoval. + +The Countess Brenda entered, with her husband, her daughter, and a +friend. She was dressed in black, low in the neck, and wore a collar of +brilliants as big as filberts, which surrounded her bosom with rays of +light and blinding reflections. + +Her friend was a young lady of consummate beauty; a brunette with colour +in her skin and features of flawless perfection; with neither the +serious air nor the statuesqueness of a great beauty, and with none +of the negroid tone of most brunettes. When she smiled she showed her +teeth, which were a burst of whiteness. She was rather loaded with +jewels, which gave her the aspect of an ancient goddess. + +"You, who find everything wrong," said Mlle. Cadet to Caesar, "what have +you to say of that woman? I have been looking at her ever since she came +in, and I don't find the slightest defect." + +"Nor I. It is a face which gives no indication that the least shadow of +sorrow has ever crossed it. It is beauty as serene as a landscape or as +the sea when calm. Moreover, that very perfection robs it of character. +It seems to be less a human face than a symbol of an apathetic being and +an apathetic beauty." + +"We have found her defect," said Mlle. Cadet. + +After introducing her friend to the ladies and to the young men, who +were all dazzled, the Countess Brenda sat down near Mme. Dawson, in an +antique arm-chair. + +She was imposing. + +"You look like a queen holding audience," Mlle. de Sandoval said to her. + +"Your beloved is like an actual monument," Mlle. Cadet murmured +jokingly, aside to Caesar. + +"Yes, I think we ought to station a veteran at the door," retorted +Caesar. + +"A veteran! No, for mercy's sake! Poor lady! A warrior in active +service, one on whom all the antipyrine in the world would make no +impression," Mlle. Cadet replied maliciously. + +Caesar smiled at the allusion. + + + +_SILENO MACARRONI_ + +Among the people there was one gentlerman that attracted Mlle. Cadet's +special attention. He was apart from any group, but he knew everybody +that arrived. This gentleman was fat, smiling, smooth-shaven, with a +round, chubby, rosy face and the body of a Silenus. When he spoke +he arched and lowered his eyebrows alternately, rolled his eyes, +gesticulated with his fat, soft hands, and smiled and showed his teeth. + +His way of greeting people was splendid. + +"Come sta, marchesa?" he would say. "Cavaliere!" "Commendatore!" +"La contessina va bene?" "Oh! Egregio!" + +And the good gentleman would spread his arms, and close them, and +look as if he wanted to embrace the whole of humanity to his abdomen, +covered with a white waistcoat. + +"Who can that gentleman be?" Mlle. Cadet asked various times. + +"That? That is Signor Sileno Macarroni," said Caesar, "Commander of the +Order of the Mighty Belly, Knight of the Round Buttocks, and of other +distinguished Orders." + +"He is a singer," said the Countess Brenda to Mlle. de Sandoval in a low +tone. + +"He is a singer," repeated Mlle. de Sandoval to her governess in a +similar tone. + +"Sileno Macarroni is a singer," said Mlle. Cadet, with equal +mysteriousness, addressing Caesar. + +"But is our friend Macarroni going to sung?" asked Caesar. + +The question was passed from one person to another, and it was +discovered that Macarroni was going to sing. As a matter of fact, the +fat Silenus did sing, and everybody was startled to hear a high tenor +voice issue from within that voluminous human being. The fat Silenus had +the misfortune to sing false in the midst of his bravest trills, and the +poor soul was overcome, despite the applause. + +"Poor Macarroni!" said Caesar, "his high tenor heart must be broken +to bits." "He is going," put in Mlle. Cadet. "What a shame!" Sileno +vanished and the pianist began to play waltzes. + + + +_THE WORLD AS A ZOOLOGICAL GARDEN_ + +Carminatti was the first on the floor with his partner, who was the +Marchesa Sciacca. + +The Maltese lady danced with an abandon and a feline languor that +imposed respect. One of the San Martino girls, dressed in white, like +a vaporous fairy, danced with an officer in a blue uniform, a slim, +distinguished person with languid eyes and rosy cheeks, who caused a +veritable sensation among the ladies. + +The other San Martino, in pale pink, was on a sofa chatting with a man +of the cut-throat type, of jaundiced complexion, with bright eyes and a +moustache so long as almost to touch his eyebrows. + +"He is a Sicilian," Mlle. Cadet told Caesar; "behind us here they are +saying rather curious things about the two of them." + +The Countess Brenda's daughter was magnificent, with her milk-white +skin, and her arms visible through gauze. Despite her beauty she didn't +count many admirers; she was too insipid, and the majority of the young +men turned with greater enthusiasm to the married women and to those of +a very provocative type. + +Mlle. de Sandoval, the most sought after of all, didn't wish to dance. + +"My daughter is really very stiff," Mme. Dawson remarked. "Spanish women +are like that." + +"Yes, they often are," said Caesar. + +Among all these Italians, who were rather theatrical and ridiculous, +insincere and exaggerated, but who had great pliancy and great agility +in their movements and their expression, there was one German family, +consisting of several persons: a married couple with sons and daughters +who seemed to be all made from one piece, cut from the same block. While +the rest were busy with the little incidents of the ball, they were +talking about the Baths of Caracalla, the aqueducts, the Colosseum. The +father, the mother, and the children repeated their lesson in Roman +archeology, which they had learned splendidly. + +"What very absurd people they are," murmured Caesar, watching them. + +"Why?" said Mlle. de Sandoval. + +"It appeals to these Germans as their duty to make one parcel of +everything artistic there is in a country and swallow it whole; which +seems to an ignoramus like me, a stupid piece of pretentiousness. The +French, on the contrary, are on more solid ground; they don't understand +anything that is not French, and they travel to have the pleasure of +saying that Paris is the finest thing on earth." + +"It's great luck to be so perfect as you are," retorted Mlle. de +Sandoval, violently, "you can see other people's faults so clearly." + +"You mistake," replied Caesar, coldly, "I do not rely on my own good +qualities to enable me to speak badly of others." + +"Then what do you rely on?" + +"On my defects." + +"Ah, have you defects? Do you admit it?" + +"I not only admit it, but I take pride in having them." + +Mlle. de Sandoval turned her head away contemptuously; the twist Caesar +gave to her questions appeared to irritate her. + +"Mlle. de Sandoval doesn't like me much," said Caesar to Mlle. Cadet. + +"No? She generally says nice things about you." + +"Perhaps my clothes appeal to her, or the way I tie my cravat; but my +ideas displease her." + +"Because you say such severe things." + +"Why do you say that at this moment? Because I spoke disparagingly of +those Germans? Are they attractive to you?" + +"Oh, no! Not at all." + +"They look like hunting dogs." "But whom do you approve of? The +English?" + +"Not the English, either. They are a herd of cattle; sentimental, +ridiculous people who are in ecstatics over their aristocracy and over +their king. Latin peoples are something like cats, they are of the +feline race; a Frenchman is like a fat, well-fed cat; an Italian is like +an old Angora which has kept its beautiful fur; and the Spaniard is like +the cats on a roof, skinny, bare of fur, almost too weak to howl with +despair and hunger.... Then there are the ophidians, the Jews, the +Greeks, the Armenians...." + +"Then for you the world is a zoological garden?" + +"Well, isn't it?" + +At midnight they tried to break the glass jar of bonbons. They +blindfolded various men, and one by one they made them turn around a +couple of times and then try to break the jar with a stick. + +It was the Marquis Sciacca that did break the glass vase, and the pieces +fell on his head. + +"Have you hurt yourself?" people asked him. + +"No," said Caesar, reassuringly, but aside; "his head is protected." + + + +_CHIROMANTIC INTERLUDE_ + +After this cornucopia number, there was a series of other games and +amusements, which required a hand-glass, a candle, and a bottle. The +conversation in Mlle. de Sandoval's group jumped from one thing to +another and finally arrived at palmistry. + +Mlle. de Sandoval asked Caesar if he, as a Spaniard, knew how to tell +fortunes by the hand, and he jokingly replied that he did. Three or +four hands were stretched out toward Caesar, and he said whatsoever his +imagination suggested, foolishness, absurdities, impertinences; a little +of everything. + +When anybody was a bit puzzled at Caesar's words, he said: + +"Don't pay any attention to it; these are absurdities." + +Afterwards Mlle. Cadet told Caesar that she was going to cast his +horoscope. "Good! Out with it." + +The governess, who was clever, studied Caesar's hand and expressed +herself in sibylline terms: + +"You have something of everything, a little of some things and a great +deal of others; you are not a harmonious individual." + +"No?" + +"No. You are very intelligent." + +"Thank you." + +"Let the sibyl talk," said the Sandoval girl. + +"You have a strong sense of logic," the governess went on. + +"That's possible." + +"You are good and bad! You have much imagination and very little; you +are at the same time very brave and very timid. You have a loving +nature, but it is asleep, and little will-power." + +"Little and ... a great deal," said Caesar. + +"No, little." + +"Do you believe that I have little will-power?" + +"I am telling you what your hand says." + +"Look here. My hand's opinion doesn't interest me so much as yours, +because you are an intelligent woman. Do you believe I have no +will-power?" + +"A sibyl doesn't discuss her affirmations." + +"Now you are worried about your lack of will-power," said Mlle. de +Sandoval, mockingly. + +"Yes, I am, a bit." + +"Well, I think you have will-power enough," she retorted; "what you do +lack is a little more amiability." + +"Fortunately for you and for me, you are not so perspicacious in +psychology as this young lady." + +"I don't expect to earn my living telling fortunes." + +"I don't believe this young lady expects to, either. You have told me +what I am," Caesar pursued; "now tell me what is going to happen to me." + +"Let me look," said Mlle. Cadet; "close your hand. You will make a +journey." "Very good! I like that." + +"You will get into a desperate struggle...." + +"I like that, too." + +"And you will win, and you will be defeated...." + +"I don't like that so much." + +Mile. Cadet could not give other details. Her sibylline science extended +no further. During this chiromantic interlude, the dancing kept up, +until finally, about three in the morning, the party ended. + + + + +XI + +A SOUNDING-LINE IN THE DARK WORLD + +_THE ADVICE OF TWO ABBS_ + + +The Abb Preciozi several times advised Caesar to make a new attempt at +a reconciliation with the Cardinal; but Caesar always refused. + +"He is a man incapable of understanding me," he would insist with nave +arrogance. + +Preciozi felt a great liking for his new friend, who invited him to +meals at good hotels and treated him very frequently. Almost every +morning he went to call on Caesar on one pretext or another, and they +would go for a walk and chat about various things. + +Preciozi was beginning to believe that his friend was a man with a +future. Some explanations that Caesar gave him about the mechanism of +the stock-exchange convinced the abb that he was in the presence of a +great financier. + +Preciozi talked to all his friends and acquaintances about Cardinal +Fort's nephew, picturing him as an extraordinary man; some took these +praises as a joke; others thought that it was really very possible that +the Spaniard had great talent; only one abb, who was a teacher in a +college, felt a desire to meet the Cardinal's nephew, and Preciozi +introduced him to Caesar. + +This abb was named Cittadella, and he was fat, rosy, and blond; he +looked more like a singer than a priest. + +Caesar invited the two abbs to dine at a restaurant and requested +Preciozi to do the ordering. + +"So you are a nephew of Cardinal Fort's?" asked Cittadella. "Yes." + +"His own nephew?" + +"His own nephew; son of his sister." + +"And he hasn't done anything for you?" + +"Nothing." + +"It's a pity. He is a man of great influence, of great talent." + +"Influence, I believe; talent, I doubt," said Caesar. + +"Oh, no, no! He is an intelligent man." + +"But I have heard that his _Theological Commentaries_ is absolutely +absurd." + +"No, no." + +"A crude, banal book, full of stupidities...." + +"_Macch_!" exclaimed the indignant Preciozi, neglecting the culinary +conflict he was engaged in. + +"All right. It makes no difference," replied Caesar, smiling. "Whether +he is a famous man, as you two say, or a blockhead, as I think, the fact +remains that my uncle doesn't wish to have anything to do with me." + +"You must have done something to him," said Cittadella. + +"No; the only thing is that when I was small they told me the Cardinal +wished me to be a priest, and I answered that I didn't care to be." + +"And why so?" + +"It seems to me a poor job. It's evident that one doesn't make much at +it." + +Cittadella sighed. + +"Yes, and what's more," Preciozi put in, "this gentleman says to anybody +who cares to listen, that religion is a farce, that Catholicism is like +a dish of Jewish meat with Roman sauce. Is it possible that a Cardinal +should bother about a nephew that talks like that?" + +The Abb Cittadella looked very serious and remarked that it is +necessary to believe, or at least to seem to believe, in the truths of +religion. + +"Is the Cardinal supposed to have money?" asked Caesar. + +"Yes, I should say he is," replied Preciozi. "Your sister and you will +be the only heirs," said Cittadella. + +"Of course," agreed Preciozi. + +"Has he made a will?" asked Caesar. + +"All the better if he hasn't," said one of the abbs. + +"If we could only poison him," sighed Caesar, with melancholy. + +"Don't talk of such things just as we are going to eat," said Preciozi. + +The dinner was brought, and the two abbs did it the honour it deserved. + +Preciozi deserved congratulations for his excellent selection. They +ordered good wines and drank merry toasts. + +"What an admirable secretary Preciozi would be, if I got to be a +personage!" exclaimed Caesar. "Twenty thousand francs or so salary, his +board, and the duty of choosing the dinner for the next day. That's my +proposal." + +The abb blushed with pleasure, emptied his glass of wine, and murmured: + +"If it depended on me!" + +"The fact is that the way things are arranged today is no good," said +Caesar. "A hundred years ago, by the mere fact of being a Cardinal's +nephew, I should have been somebody." + +"That's true," exclaimed Preciozi. + +"And as I should have no scruples, and neither would you two, we would +have plunged into life strenuously, and sacked Rome, and the whole world +would be ours." + +"You talk like a Caesar Borgia," said Preciozi, aroused. "You are a true +Spaniard." + +"Today one must have something to stand on," said Cittadella, coldly. + +"Friend Cittadella," retorted Caesar, "I, as you see me here, am the man +who knows the most about financial matters in all Spain, and I believe I +shall soon get to where I can say, in all Europe. I put my knowledge at +the service of whoever pays me. I am like one of your old _condottieri_, +a mercenary general. I am ready to win battles for the Jewish bank, or +against the Jewish bank, for the Church or against the Church." + +"For the Church is better. Against the Church we cannot assist you," +said Preciozi. + +"I will try first, for the Church. To whom can you recommend me first?" + +The two abbs said nothing, and drank in silence. + +"Perhaps Verry would see him," said Cittadella. + +"Hm! ..." replied Preciozi. "I rather doubt it." + +"What sort of a party is he?" asked Caesar. + +"He is one of those _prelati_ that come out of the College of Nobles," +said Cittadella, "and who get on, even if they are no good. Here they +consider him a haughty Spaniard; they blame him for wearing his robes, +and for always taking an automobile when he goes to Castel Gandolfo. The +priests hate him because he is a Jesuit and a Spaniard." + +"And wherein does his strength lie?" + +"In the Society, and in his knowing several languages. He was educated +in England." + +"From what you two tell me of him, he gives me the impression of a +fatuous person." + +A bottle of champagne was brought in and the three of them drank, +toasting and touching glasses. + +"If I were in your place," said Cittadella, after thinking a long while, +"I shouldn't try to get at people in high places, but people who are +inconspicuous and yet have influence in your country." + +"For instance...." + +"For instance, Father Herreros, at the convent in Trastevere." + +"And Father Mir too," added Preciozi, "and if you could talk to Father +Ferrer, of the Gregorian University, it wouldn't be a bad idea." + +"That will be more difficult," said Cittadella. + +"You could tell them," Preciozi suggested, "that your uncle the Cardinal +sent you, and hint that he doesn't want anybody to know that he is +backing you." "And if somebody should write to my uncle?" + +"You mustn't say anything definite. You must speak ambiguously. Besides, +in case they did write, we would fix it up in the office." + +Caesar began to laugh navely. Afterwards, the two abbs, a little +excited by the food and the good wine, started in to have a violent +discussion, speaking Italian. Caesar paid the bill, and pretending that +he had an urgent engagement, took leave of them and went out. + + + +_A SPANISH MONK_ + +The next day Caesar went to look up Father Herreros. He had not yet +succeeded in forming a plan. His only idea was to see if he could take +advantage of some chance: to follow a scent and be on the alert, in case +something new should start up on one side or the other. + +Father Herreros lived in a convent in Trastevere. Caesar took the tram +in the Piazza Venezia, and got out after crossing the Tiber, near the +Via delle Fratte. + +He soon found the convent; it had a yellow portal with a Latin +inscription which sang the gymnastic glories of Saint Pascual Bailn. +Above the inscription there was a picture, in which a monk, no doubt +Bailn, was dancing among the clouds. + +On the lintel of the gate were the arms of Spain, and at the sides, two +medallions bearing hands wounded in the palm. + +The convent door was old and quartered. Caesar knocked. + +A lay-brother, with a suspicious glance, came out to admit him, told him +to wait, and left him alone. After some while, he came back and asked +him to follow him. + +They went down a small passage and up a staircase, which was at the +end, and then along a corridor on the main floor. On one side of this +corridor, in his cell, they found Father Herreros. + +Caesar, after bowing and introducing himself, sat down, as the monk +asked him to do, in a chair with its back to the light. Caesar began to +explain why he had come, and as he had prepared what he was going to +say, he employed his attention, while speaking, on the cage and the kind +of big bird which were before his eyes. + +Father Herreros had a big rough head, black heavy eyebrows, a short +nose, an enormous mouth, yellow teeth, and grey hair. He wore a +chocolate-coloured robe, open enough to show his whole neck down to his +chest. The movement of the good monk's lips was that of a man who wished +to pass for keen and insinuating. His robe was dirty and he doubtless +had the habit of leaving cigarette stubs on the table. + +The cell had one window, and in front of it a bookcase. Caesar made an +effort to read the titles. They were almost all Latin books, the kind +that nobody reads. + +Father Herreros began to ask Caesar questions. In his brain, he was +doubtless wondering why Cardinal Fort's nephew should come to him. + +After many useless words they got to the concrete point that Caesar +wanted to take up, Father Herreros's acquaintance in Spain, and the monk +said that he knew a very rich widow who had property in Toledo. When +Caesar went to Madrid, he would give him a letter of recommendation to +her. + +"I cannot keep you any longer now, because a Mexican lady is waiting for +me," said Father Herreros. + +Caesar arose, and after shaking the monk's fat hand, he left the +convent. He returned to Rome on foot, crossing the river again, and +looking at the Tiberine island; and arrived without hurrying at the +hotel. He wrote to his friend Azugaray, requesting him to discover, by +the indications he gave him, who the rich widow that had property in +Toledo could be. + + + +_THE LICENTIATE MIR_ + +The next day Caesar decided to pursue his investigations, and went to +see Father Mir. + +Father Mir lived in a college in the Via Monserrato. Caesar inspected +the map of Rome, looking for that street, and found that it is located +in the vicinity of the Campo de' Fiori, and took his way thither. + +The spring day was magnificent; the sky was blue, without a cloud; the +tiled roofs of some of the palaces were decorated with borders of +plants and flowers; in the street, dry and flooded with sunshine, a +water-carrier in a cart full of fat, green bottles, passed by, singing +and cracking his whip. + +Caesar crossed the Campo de' Fiori, a very lively, plebeian square, full +of canvas awnings with open stalls of fruit under them. In the middle +stood the statue of Giordano Bruno, with a crown of flowers around its +neck. + +Then he took the Via de' Cappellari, a narrow lane and dirty enough. +From one side to the other clothes were hung out to dry. + +He came to the college and entered the church contiguous to it. He asked +for Father Mir; a sacristan with a long moustache and a worn blue +overcoat, took him to another entrance, made him mount an old wooden +staircase, and conducted him to the office of the man he was looking +for. + +Father Mir was a tiny little man, dark and filthy, with a worn-out +cassock, covered with dandruff, and a large dirty square cap with a big +rosette. + +"Will you tell me what you want?" said the little priest in a sullen +tone. + +Caesar introduced himself, and explained in a few words who he was and +what he proposed. + +Father Mir, without asking him to sit down, answered rapidly, saying +that he had no acquaintance with matters of finance or speculation. + +Caesar felt a shudder of anger at the rudeness with which he was treated +by this draggled little priest, and felt a vehement desire to take him +by the neck and twist it, like a chicken's. + +Despite his anger, he did not change expression, and he asked the priest +smilingly if he knew who could give him advice about those questions. + +"You can see Father Ferrer at the Gregorian University, or Father +Mendia. He is an encyclopedist. It was he who wrote the theological +portion of the encyclical _Pascendi_, the one about Modernism. He is a +man of very great learning." + +"He will do. Many thanks," and Caesar turned toward the door. + +"Excuse me for not having asked you to sit down, but ..." + +"No matter," Caesar replied, rapidly, and he went out to the stairs. + +In view of the poor result of his efforts, he decided to go to the +Gregorian University. He was told it was in the Via del Seminario, and +supposed it must be the large edifice with little windowed bridges over +two streets. + +That edifice was the Collegio Romano; the Gregorian University was in +the same street, but further on, opposite the Post Office Department. +Father Ferrer could not receive him, because he was holding a class; and +after they had gone up and come down and taken Caesar's card for Father +Mendia, they told him he was out. + +Caesar concluded that it was not so easy to find a crack through which +one could get information of what was going on in the clerical world. + +"I see that the Church gives them all a defensive instinct which they +make good use of. They are really only poor devils, but they have a +great organization, and it cannot be easy to get one's fingers through +the meshes of their net." + + + + +XII + +A MEETING ON THE PINCIO + +_A WALK IN THE VILLA BORGHESE_ + + +At the beginning of Holy Week Laura returned to the hotel, at +lunch-time. + +"And your husband?" Caesar asked her. + +"He didn't want to come. Rome bores him. He is giving all his attention +to taking care of the heart-disease he says he has." + +"Is it serious?" + +"I think not. Every time I see him I find him with a new disease and a +new diet; one time it is vegetarian, another nothing but meat, another +time he says one should eat only grapes, or nothing but bread." + +"Then I see that he belongs to the illustrious brotherhood of the +insane." + +"You are not far from joining that brotherhood yourself." + +"Dear sister, I am one of the few sane men that go stumbling around this +insane asylum let loose we call the earth." + +"What you say about men is the truth, even though you are not an +exception. Really, the more I have to do with men, the more convinced I +am that any one of them who is not crazy, is stupid or vain or proud.... +How much more intelligent, discreet, logical we women are!" + +"Don't tell me. You are marvels; modest, kindly toward your rivals, so +little given to humiliating your neighbours, male or female...." + +"Yes, yes; but we are not so conceited or such play-actors as you are. +A woman may think herself pretty and amiable and sweet, and not be so. +That is true; but on the other hand, every man thinks himself braver +than the Cid, even if he is afraid of a fly, and more talented than +Seneca, even if he is a dolt." + +"To sum up, men are a calamity." + +"Just so." + +"And women spend their lives fishing for these calamities." + +"They need them; there are inferior things which still are necessary." + +"And there are superior things which are good for nothing." + +"Will you come and take a drive with me, philosopher brother?" + +"Where?" + +"Let's go to the Villa Borghese. The carriage will be here in a moment." + +"All right. Let us go there." + +A two-horse victoria with rubber tires was waiting at the door, and +Laura and Caesar got in. The carriage went past the Treasury, and out +the Porta Salaria, and entered the gardens of the Villa Borghese. + +The morning had been rainy; the ground was damp; the wind waved the +tree-tops gently and caused a murmur like the tide. The carriage rolled +slowly along the avenues. Laura was very gay and chatty. Caesar listened +to her as one listens to a bird warbling. + +Many times while listening he thought: "What is there inside this head? +What is the master idea of her life? Has she really any idea about life, +or has she none?" + +After several rounds they crossed the viaduct that unites the Villa +Borghese with the Pincio gardens. + + + +_FROM THE PINCIO TERRACE_ + +They approached the great terrace of the gardens by an avenue that has +busts of celebrated men along both sides. + +"Poor great men!" exclaimed Caesar. "Their statues serve only to +decorate a public garden." "They had their lives," replied Laura, gaily; +"now we have ours." + +Laura ordered the coachman to stop a moment. The air was still murmuring +in the foliage, the birds singing, and the clouds flying slowly across +the sky. + +A man with a black box approached the carriage to offer them postcards. + +"Buy two or three," said Laura. + +Caesar bought a few and put them into his pocket. The vendor withdrew +and Laura continued to look at Rome with enthusiasm. + +"Oh, how beautiful, how lovely it is! I never get tired of looking at +it. It is my favourite city. '_O fior d'ogni citt, donna del mondo_.'" + +"She is no longer mistress of the world, little sister." + +"For me she is. Look at St. Peter's. It looks like a shred of cloud." + +"Yes, that's so. It's of a blue shade that seems transparent." + +Bells were ringing and great majestic white clouds kept moving along the +horizon; on the Janiculum the statue of Garibaldi rose up gallantly into +the air, like a bird ready to take wing. + +"When I look at Rome this way," murmured Laura, "I feel a pang, a pang +of grief." + +"Why?" + +"Because I remember that I must die, and then I shall not come back +to see Rome. She will be here still, century after century, full of +sunlight, and I shall be dead.... It is horrible, horrible!" + +"And your religion?" + +"Yes, I know. I believe I shall see other things; but not these things +that are so beautiful." + +"You are an Epicurean." + +"It is so beautiful to be alive!" + +They stayed there looking at the panorama. Below, in the Piazza del +Poplo, they saw a red tram slipping along, which looked, at that +distance, like a toy. + +A tilbury, driven by a woman, stopped near their carriage. The woman was +blond with green eyes, prominent cheek-bones, and a little fur cap. At +her feet lay an enormous dog with long flame-coloured hair. + +"She must be a Russian," said Caesar. + +"Yes. Do you like that type?" + +"She has a lot of character. She looks like one of the women that would +order servants to be whipped." + +The Russian was smiling vaguely. Laura told the coachman to drive on. +They made a few rounds in the avenues of the Pincio. The music was +beginning; a few carriages, and groups of soldiers and seminarians, +crowded around the bandstand; Laura didn't care for brass bands, they +were too noisy for her, and she gave the coachman orders to drive to the +Corso. + + + +_MEETING MARCHMONT_ + +They passed in front of the Villa Medici, and when they got near the +Piazza, della Trinit de' Monti they met a man on horseback, who, on +seeing them, immediately approached the carriage. It was Archibald +Marchmont, who had just arrived in Rome. + +"I thought you had forgotten us," said Laura. + +"I forget you, Marchesa! Never." + +"You say you came to Rome...." + +"From Nice I had to return to London, because my father was seriously +ill with an attack of gout." + +"He is well again?" + +"Yes, thank you. You are coming back from a drive?" + +"Yes." + +"Don't you want to come and have tea with my wife and me?" + +"Where?" + +"At the Hotel Excelsior. We are staying there. Will you come?" "All +right." + +Laura accepted, and they went to the Via Veneto with the Englishman +riding beside them. + +They went into the hotel and passed through to the "hall" full of +people, Marchmont sent word to his wife by a servant, to come down. +Laura and Caesar seated themselves with the Englishman. + +"This hotel is unbearable," exclaimed Marchmont; "there is nothing here +but Americans." + +"Your wife, however, must like that," said Caesar. + +"No. Susanna is more European every day, and she doesn't care for the +shrieking elegance of her compatriots. Besides, her father is here, and +that makes her feel less American." + +"It is an odd form of filial enthusiasm," remarked Caesar. + +"It doesn't shock me. I almost think it's the rule," replied Marchmont; +"at home I could see that my brothers and sisters hated one another +cordially, and that every member of the family wanted to get away from +the others. You two who are so fond of each other are a very rare +instance. Is it frequent in Spain that brothers and sisters like one +another?" + +"Yes, there are instances of it," answered Caesar, laughing. + +Mrs. Marchmont arrived, accompanied by an old man who evidently was her +father, and two other men. Susanna was most smart; she greeted Laura and +Caesar very affably, and presented her father, Mr. Russell; then she +presented an English author, tall, skinny, with blue eyes, a white +beard, and hair like a halo; and then a young Englishman from the +Embassy, a very distinguished person named Kennedy, who was a Catholic. + + + +_TEA_ + +After the introductions they passed into the dining-room, which was +most impressive. It was an exhibition of very smart women, some of +them ideally beautiful, and idle men. All about them resounded a nasal +English of the American sort. + +Susanna Marchmont served the tea and did the honours to her guests. +They all talked French, excepting Mr. Russell, who once in a long while +uttered some categorical monosyllable in his own language. + +Mr. Russell was not of the classic Yankee type; he looked like a vulgar +Englishman. He was a serious man, with a short moustache, grey-headed, +with three or four gold teeth. + +What to Caesar seemed wonderful in this gentleman was his economy of +words. There was not one useless expression in his vocabulary, and +not the slightest redundancy; whatever partook of merit, prestige, or +nobility was condensed, for him, to the idea of value; whatever partook +of arrangement, cleanliness, order, was condensed to the word "comfort"; +so that Mr. Russell, with a very few words, had everything specified. + +To Susanna, imbued with her preoccupation in supreme _chic_, her father +no doubt did not seem a completely decorative father; but he gave Caesar +the impression of a forceful man. + +Near them, at a table close by, was a little blond man, with a hooked +nose and a scanty imperial, in company with a fat lady. They bowed to +Marchmont and his wife. + +"That gentleman looks like a Jew," said Caesar. + +"He is," replied Marchmont, "that is Seor Pereyra, a rich Jew; of +Portuguese origin, I think." + +"How quickly you saw it!" exclaimed Susanna. + +"He has that air of a sick goat, so frequent in Jews." + +"His wife has nothing sickly about her, or thin either," remarked Laura. + +"No," said Caesar; "his wife represents another Biblical type; one of +the fat kine of somebody's dream, which foretold abundance and a good +harvest." + +The Englishman, Kennedy, had also little liking for Jews. + +"I do not hate a Jew as anti-Christian," said Caesar; "but as +super-Christian. Nor do I hate the race, but the tendency they have +never to be producers, but always middlemen, and because they incarnate +so well for our era the love of money, and of joy and pleasure." + +The English author was a great partisan of Jews, and he asserted that +they were more distinguished in science and the arts than any other +race. The Jewish question was dropped in an instant, when they saw a +smart lady come in accompanied by a pale man with a black shock of hair +and an uneasy eye. + +"That is the Hungarian violinist Kolozsvar," said Susanna. + +"Kolozsvar, Kolozsvar!" they heard everybody saying. + +"Is he a great virtuoso?" Caesar asked Kennedy. + +"No, I think not," answered Kennedy. "It seems that this Hungarian's +speciality is playing the waltzes and folk-songs of his own country, +which is certainly not anything great; but his successes are not +obtained with the violin, but among the women. The ladies in London +fight for him. His game is to pass himself off as a fallen man, +depraved, worn-out. There you have his phraseology.... They see a man to +save, to raise up, and convert into a great artist, and almost all of +them yield to this temptation." + +"That is comical," said Caesar, looking curiously at the fiddler and his +lady. + +"To a Spaniard," replied Kennedy, "it is comical; and probably it would +be to an Italian too; but in England there are many women that have a +purely imaginative idealism, a romanticism fed on ridiculous novels, and +they fall into traps like these, which seem clumsy and grotesque to you +here in the South, where people are more clear-sighted and realistic." + +Caesar watched the brave fiddler, who played the role of a man used up, +to great perfection. + +After tea, Susanna invited them to go up to her rooms, and Laura and her +brother and Kennedy and Mr. Russell went. + +The English author had met a colleague, with whom he stayed behind +talking, and Marchmont remained in the "hall," as if it did not seem to +him proper for him to go to his wife's rooms. + +Susanna's rooms were very high, had balconies on the Via Veneto, and +were almost opposite Queen Margherita's palace. One overlooked the +garden and could see the Queen Mother taking her walks, which is not +without its importance for persons who live in a republic. + +Susanna was most amiable to Laura; repeated to all of them her +invitation to come and see her again; and after they had all promised +to see one another frequently, Caesar and Laura went down to their +carriage, and took a turn on the Corso by twilight. + + + + +XIII + +ESTHETICS AND DEMAGOGY + +_SUSANNA AND THE YOUNGSTERS_ + + +From this meeting on, Caesar noticed that Marchmont paid court to Laura +with much persistence. A light-hearted, coquettish woman, it pleased +Laura to be pursued by a person like this Englishman, young, +distinguished, and rich; but she was not prepared to yield. Her +bringing-up, her class-feelings impelled her to consider adultery a +heinous thing. Nor was divorce a solution for her, since accepting it +would oblige her to cease being a Catholic and to quarrel irrevocably +with the Cardinal. Marchmont showed no discretion in the way he paid +court to Laura; he cared nothing about his wife, and talked of her with +profound contempt.... + +Laura found herself besieged by the Englishman; she couldn't decide to +discourage him entirely, and at critical moments she would take the +train, go off to Naples, and come back two or three days later, +doubtless with more strength for withstanding the siege. + +"As a matter of reciprocal justice, since he makes love to my sister, +I ought to make love to his wife," thought Caesar, and he went several +times to the Hotel Excelsior to call on Susanna. + +The Yankee wife was full of complaints against her husband. Her father +had advised her simply to get a divorce, but she didn't want to. +She found such a solution lacking in distinction, and no doubt she +considered the advice of an author in her own country very true, who had +given this triple injunction to the students of a woman's college: "Do +not drink, that is, do not drink too much; do not smoke, that is, do not +smoke too much; and do not get married, that is, do not get married too +much." + +It did not seem quite right to Susanna to get married too much. Besides +she had a desire to become a Catholic. One day she questioned Caesar +about it: + +"You want to change your religion!" exclaimed Caesar, "What for? I don't +believe you are going to find your lost faith by becoming a Catholic." + +"And what do you think about it, Kennedy?" Susanna asked the young +Englishman, who was there too. + +"To me a Catholic woman seems doubly enchanting." + +"You would not marry a woman who wasn't a Catholic?" + +"No, indeed," the Englishman proclaimed. + +Caesar and Kennedy disagreed about everything. + +Susanna discussed her plans, and constantly referred to Paul Bourget's +novel _Cosmopolis_, which had obviously influenced her in her +inclination for Catholicism. + +"Are there many Jewish ladies who aspire to be baptized and become +Catholics, as Bourget says?" asked Susanna. + +"Bah!" exclaimed Caesar. + +"You do not believe that either?" + +"No, it strikes me as a piece of navety in this good soul of a +novelist. To become a Catholic, I don't believe requires more than some +few pesetas." + +"You are detestable, as a Cardinal's nephew." + +"I mean that I don't perceive that there are any obstacles to prevent +anybody from becoming a Catholic, as there are to prevent his becoming +rich. What a high ambition, to aspire to be a Catholic! While nobody +anywhere does anything but laugh at Catholics; and it has become an +axiom: 'A Catholic country is a country bound for certain ruin.'" + +Kennedy burst out laughing. + +Susanna said that she had no real faith, but that she did have a great +enthusiasm for churches and for choirs, for the smell of incense and +religious music. + +"Spain is the place for all that," said Kennedy. "Here in Italy the +Church ceremonies are too gay. Not so in Spain; at Toledo, at Burgos, +there is an austerity in the cathedrals, an unworldliness...." + +"Yes," said Caesar; "unhappily we have nothing left there but +ceremonies. At the same time, the people are dying of hunger." + +They discussed whether it is better to live in a decorative, esthetic +sphere, or in a more humble and practical one; and Susanna and Kennedy +stood up for the superiority of an esthetic life. + +As they left the hotel Caesar said to Kennedy: + +"Allow me a question. Have you any intentions concerning Mrs. +Marchmont?" + +"Why do you ask?" + +"Simply because I shouldn't go to see her often, so as not to be in the +way." + +"Thank you ever so much. But I have no intentions in relation to her. +She is too beautiful and too rich a woman for a modest employee like me +to fix his eyes on." + +"Bah! A modest diplomat! That is absurd. It is merely that you don't +take to her." + +"No. It's because she is a queen. There ought to be some defect in her +face to make her human." + +"Yes; that's true. She is too much of a prize beauty." + +"That is the defect in the Yankee women; they have no character. The +weight of tradition might be fatal to industry and modern life, but it +is the one thing that creates the spirituality of the old countries. +Beyond contradiction American women have intelligence, beauty, energy, +attractive flashes, but they lack that particular thing created by +centuries: character. At times they have very charming impulses. Have +you heard the story about Prince Torlonia's wife?" + +"No." + +"Well, Torlonia's present wife was an American girl worth millions, who +came with letters to the prince. He took her about Rome, and at the end +of some days he said to her, supposing that the beautiful American had +the intention of marrying: 'I will introduce some young noblemen to +you'; and she answered: 'Don't introduce anybody to me; because you +please me more than anybody'; and she married him." + +"It was a pretty impulse." + +"Yes, Americans do things like that on the spur of the moment. But if +you saw a Spanish woman behave that way, it would seem wrong to you." + +Chattering amicably they came to the Piazza Esedra. + +"Would you care to have lunch with me?" said Kennedy. + +"Just what I was going to propose to you." + +"I eat alone." + +"I do not. I eat with my sister." + +"The Marchesa di Vaccarone?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you must pardon me if I accept your invitation, for I am very +anxious to meet her." + +"Then come along." + + + +_RUSKIN AND THE PHILISTINES_ + +They reached the hotel and Caesar introduced his friend to Laura. + +"He is an admirer of yours." + +"A respectful admirer ... from a distance," explained Kennedy. + +"But are there admirers of that sort?" asked Laura, laughing. + +"Here you have one," said the Englishman. "I have known you by sight +ever since I came to Rome, and have never had the pleasure of speaking +to you until today." + +"And have you been here a long time?" + +"Nearly two years." + +"And do you like Rome; eh?" + +"I should say so! At first, I didn't, I must admit. It was a +disappointment to me. I had dreamed so much about Rome!" and Kennedy +talked of the books and guides he had read about the Eternal City. + +"I must admit that I had never dreamed about Rome," said Caesar. "And +you boast of that?" asked Laura. + +"No, I don't boast of it, I merely state it. I understand how agreeable +it is to know things. Caesar died here! Cicero made speeches here! Saint +Peter stumbled over this stone! It is fine! But not knowing things +is also very comfortable. I am rather like a barbarian walking +indifferently among monuments he knows nothing about." + +"Doesn't such an idea make you ashamed?" + +"No, why? It would be a bother to me to know a lot of things offhand. To +pass by a mountain and know how it was thrown up, what it is composed +of, what its flora and fauna are; to get to a town and know its history +in detail.... What things to be interested in! It's tiresome! I hate +history too much. I far prefer to be ignorant of everything, and +especially the past, and from time to time to offer myself a capricious, +arbitrary explanation." + +"But I think that knowing things not only is not tiresome," said +Kennedy, "but is a great satisfaction." + +"You think even learning things is a satisfaction?" + +"Thousands of years ago one could know things almost without learning +them; nowadays in order to know, one has to learn. That is natural and +logical." + +"Yes, certainly. And the effort to learn about useful things seems +natural and logical to me too, but not to learn about merely agreeable +things. To learn medicine and mechanics is logical; but to learn to look +at a picture or to hear a symphony is an absurdity." + +"Why?" + +"At any rate the neophytes that go to see a Rafael picture or to hear +a Bach sonata and have an exclamation all ready, give me the sad +impression of a flock of lambs. As for your sublime pedagogues of the +Ruskin type, they seem to me to be the fine flower of priggishness, of +pedantry, of the most objectionable bourgeoisie." + +"What things your brother is saying!" exclaimed Kennedy. + +"You shouldn't notice him," said Laura. + +"Those artistic pedagogues enrage me; they remind me of Protestant +pastors and of the friars that go around dressed like peasants, and who +I think are called Brothers of the Christian Doctrine. The pedagogues +are Brothers of the Esthetic Doctrine, one of the stupidest inventions +that ever occurred to the English. I don't know which I find more +ridiculous, the Salvation Army or Ruskin's books." + +"Why have you this hatred for Ruskin?" + +"I find him an idiot. I only skimmed through a book of his called _The +Seven Lamps of Architecture_, and the first thing I read was a paragraph +in which he said that to use an imitation diamond or any other imitation +stone was a lie, an imposition, and a sin. I immediately said: 'This man +who thinks a diamond is the truth and paste a lie, is a stupid fool who +doesn't deserve to be read.'" + +"Yes, all right: you take one point of view and he takes another. I +understand why Ruskin wouldn't please you. What I do not understand is +why you find it absurd that if a person has a desire to penetrate into +the beauties of a symphony or a picture, he should do so. What is there +strange in that?" + +"You are right," said Caesar; "whoever wants to learn, should. I have +done so about financial questions." + +"Is it true that your brother knows all about questions of money?" +Kennedy asked Laura. + +"He says so." + +"I haven't much belief in his financial knowledge." + +"No?" + +"No, I have not. You are a sort of dilettante, half nihilist, half +financier. You would like to pass for a tranquil, well-balanced man, for +what is called a philistine, but you cannot compass it." + +"I will compass it. It is true that I want to be a philistine, but a +philistine out in the real world. All those great artists you people +admire, Goethe, Ruskin, were really philistines, who were in the +business of being interested in poetry and statues and pictures." + +"Moncada, you are a sophist," said Kennedy. "Possibly I am wrong in this +discussion," retorted Caesar, "but the feeling I have is right. Artists +irritate me; they seem to me like old ladies with a flatulency that +prevents their breathing freely." + +Kennedy laughed at the definition. + + + +_CHIC AND THE REVOLUTION_ + +"I understand hating bad kings and conquerors; but artists! What harm do +they do?" said Laura. + +"Artists are always doing harm to the whole of humanity. They have +invented an esthetic system for the use of the rich, and they have +killed the Revolution. The _chic_ put an end to the Revolution. And +now everything is coming back; enthusiasm for the aristocracy, for the +Church; the cult of kings. People look backward and the Revolutionary +movement is paralysed. The people that irritate me most are those +esthetes of the Ruskin school, for whom everything is religious: having +money, buying jewels, blowing one's nose ... everything is religious. +Vulgar creatures, lackeys that they are!" + +"My brother is a demagogue," said Laura ironically. + +"Yes," added Kennedy; "he doesn't like categories." + +"But each thing has its value whether he likes it or not." + +"I do not deny different values, or even categories. There are things of +great value in life; some natural, like youth, beauty, strength; +others more artificial, like money, social position; but this idea of +distinction, of aristocratic fineness, is a farce. It is a literary +legend in the same style as the one current in novels, which tells +us that the aristocrats of old families close their doors to rich +Americans, or like that other story Mrs. Marchmont was talking to us of, +about the Jewish ladies who were crazy to become Catholics." + +"I don't see what you are trying to prove by all this," said Laura. + +"I am trying to prove that all there is underneath distinguished society +is money, for which reason it doesn't matter if it is destroyed. The +cleverest and finest man, if he has no money, will die of hunger in a +corner. Smart society, which thinks itself superior, will never receive +him, because being really superior and intelligent is of no value on +the market. On the other hand, when it is a question of some very rich +brute, he will succeed in being accepted and fted by the aristocrats, +because money has a real value, a quotable value, or I'd better say, it +is the only thing that has a quotable value." + +"What you are saying isn't true. A man doesn't go with the best people +merely because he is rich." + +"No, certainly; not immediately. There is a preparatory process. He +begins by robbing people in some miserable little shop, and feels +himself democratic. Then he robs in a bank, and at that period he feels +that he is a Liberal and begins to experience vaguely aristocratic +ideas. If business goes splendidly, the aristocratic ideas get +crystallized. Then he can come to Rome and go into ecstasies over +all the humbugs of Catholicism; and after that, one is authorized to +acknowledge that the religion of our fathers is a beautiful religion, +and one finishes by giving a tip to the Pope, and another to Cardinal +Verry, so that they will make him Prince of the Ecumenical Council or +Marquis of the Holy Crusade." + +"What very stupid and false ideas," exclaimed Laura. "Really I +appreciate having a brother who talks in such a vulgar way." + +"You are an aristocrat and the truth doesn't please you. But such are +the facts. I can see the chief of the bureau of Papal titles. What fun +he must have thinking up the most appropriate title for a magnate of +Yankee tinned beef or for an illustrious Andean general! How magnificent +it would be to gather all the Bishops _in partibus infidelium_ and all +the people with Papal titles in one drawing-room! The Bishop of Nicaea +discussing with the Marquis of the Holy Roman Empire; the Marchioness of +Easter Sunday flirting with the Bishop of Sion, while the Patriarchs +of Thebes, Damascus, and Trebizond played bridge with the sausage +manufacturer, Mr. Smiles, the pork king, or with the illustrious General +Prez, the hero of Guachinanguito. What a moving spectacle it would be!" + +"You are a clown!" said Laura. + +"He is a finished satirist," added Kennedy. + + + +_CAESAR'S PLAN_ + +After lunch, Laura, Kennedy, and Caesar went into the salon, and Laura +introduced the Englishman to the San Martino girls and the Countess +Brenda. They stayed there chatting until four o'clock, at which time the +San Martinos got ready to go out in a motor car, and Laura, with the +Countess and her daughter, in a carriage. + +Caesar and Kennedy went into the street together. + +"You are awfully well fixed here," said Kennedy, "with no Americans, no +Germans, or any other barbarians." + +"Yes, this hotel is a hive of petty aristocrats." + +"Your sister was telling me that you might pick out a very rich wife +here, among the girls." + +"Yes, my sister would like me to live here, in a foreign country, in +cowlike tranquillity, looking at pictures and statues, and travelling +pointlessly. That wouldn't be living for me; I am not a society man. I +require excitement, danger.... Though I warn you that I am not in the +least courageous." + +"You're not?" + +"Not at all. Not now. At moments I believe I could control myself and +take a trench without wavering." + +"But you have some fixed plan, haven't you?" + +"Yes, I expect to go back to Spain, and work there." + +"At what?" + +"In politics." + +"Are you patriotic?" + +"Yes, up to a certain point. I have no transcendental idea of patriotism +at all. Patriotism, as I interpret it, is a matter of curiosity. I +believe that there is strength in Spain. If this strength could be +led in a given direction, where would it get to? That is my form of +patriotism; as I say, it is an experimental form." + +Kennedy looked at Caesar with curiosity. + +"And how can it help you with your plans to stay here in Rome?" he +asked. + +"It can help me. In Spain nobody knows me. This is the only place where +I have a certain position, through being the nephew of a Cardinal. I am +trying to build on that. How am I going to arrange it? I don't know. I +am feeling out my future course, taking soundings." + +"But the support you could find here would be all of a clerical nature," +said Kennedy. + +"Of course." + +"But you are not Clerical!" + +"No; but it is necessary for me to climb. Afterwards there will be time +to change." + +"You are not taking it into account, my dear Caesar, that the Church is +still powerful and that it doesn't pardon people who impose upon it." + +"Bah! I am not afraid of it." + +"And you were just saying you are not courageous! You are courageous, my +dear man.... After this, I don't doubt of your success." + +"I need data." + +"If I can furnish you with any...." + +"Wouldn't it be disagreeable for you to help a man who is your enemy, so +far as ideas go?" + +"No; because I am beginning to have some curiosity too, as to whether +you will succeed in doing something. If I can be of any use, let me +know." + +"I will let you know." + +Caesar and Kennedy took a walk about the streets, and at twilight they +took leave of each other affectionately. + + + + +XIV + +NEW ATTEMPTS, NEW RAMBLES + +_CARDINAL SPADA_ + + +"I have arranged two interesting conferences for you," said Kennedy, a +few days later. + +"My dear man!" + +"Yes; one with Cardinal Spada, the other with the Abb Tardieu. I have +spoken to them both about you." + +"Splendid! What kind of people are they?" + +"Cardinal Spada is a very intelligent man and a very amiable one. At +heart he is a Liberal and fond of the French. As to the Abb Tardieu, he +is a very influential priest at the church of San Luigi." + +After lunch they went direct to a solitary street in the old part of +Rome. At the door of the big, sad palace where Cardinal Spada lived, a +porter with a cocked hat, a grey greatcoat, and a staff with a silver +knob, was watching the few passers-by. + +They went in by the broad entry-way, as far as a dark colonnaded court, +paved with big flags which had grass between them. + +In the middle of the court a fountain shot up a little way and fell into +a stone basin covered with moss. + +Kennedy and Caesar mounted the wide monumental stairway; on the first +floor a handsome glassed-in gallery ran around the court. The whole +house had an air of solemnity and sadness. They entered the Cardinal's +office, which was a large, sad, severe room. + +Monsignor Spada was a vigorous man, despite his age. He looked frank +and intelligent, but one guessed that there was a hidden bitterness and +desolation in him. He wore a black cassock with red edges and buttons. + +Kennedy went close and was about to kneel to the Cardinal, but he +prevented him. + +Caesar explained his ideas to the Cardinal with modesty. He felt that +this man was worthy of all his respect. + +Monsignor Spada listened attentively, and then said that he understood +nothing about financial matters, but that on principle he was in favour +of having the administration of all the Church's property kept entirely +at home, as in the time of Pius IX. Leo XIII had preferred to replace +this paternal method by a trained bureaucracy, but the Church had not +gained anything by it, and they had lost credit through unfortunate +negotiations, buying land and taking mortgages. + +Caesar realized that it was useless to attempt to convince a man of +the intelligence and austerity of the Cardinal, and he listened to him +respectfully. + +Monsignor Spada conversed amiably, he escorted them as far as the door, +and shook hands when they said good-bye. + + + +THE ABB TARDIEU + +Then they went to see the Abb Tardieu. The abb lived in the Piazza. +Navona. His office, furnished in modern style, produced the effect of a +violent contrast with Cardinal Spada's sumptuous study, and yet brought +it to mind. The Abb Tardieu's work-room was small, worldly, full of +books and photographs. + +The abb, a tall young man, thin, with a rosy face, a long nose, and a +mouth almost from ear to ear, had the air of an astute but jolly person, +and laughed at everything said to him. He was liveliness personified. +When they entered his office he was writing and smoking. + +Caesar explained about his financial knowledge, and how he had gone on +acquiring it, until he got to the point where he could discern a law, a +system, in things where others saw nothing more than chance. The Abb +Tardieu promised that if he knew a way to utilize Caesar's knowledge, he +would send him word. In respect to giving him letters of introduction to +influential persons in Spain, he had no objection. + +They took leave of the abb. + +"All this has to go slowly," said Kennedy. + +"Of course. One cannot insist that it should happen all at once." + + + +_BERNINI_ + +"If you have nothing to do, let's take a walk," said the Englishman. + +"If you like." + +"Have you noticed the fountains in this square?" + +"No." + +"They are worth looking at." + +Caesar contemplated the central obelisk. It is set on top of a rock +hollowed out like a cavern, in the mouth of which a lion is seen. +Afterwards they looked at the fountains at the ends of the square. + +"The sculptures are by Bernini," explained Kennedy. "Bernini belonged to +an epoch that has been very much abused by the critics, but nowadays he +is much praised. He enchants me." + +"It is rather a mixed style, don't you think?" + +"Yes." + +"The artist is not living?" + +"For heaven's sake, man! No." + +"Well, if he were alive today they would employ him to make those +gewgaws some people present to leading ladies and to the deputies of +their district. He would be the king of the manufacturers of ornate +barometers." + +"It is undeniable that Bernini had a baroque taste." + +"He gives the impression of a rather pretentious and affected person." + +"Yes, he does. He was an exuberant, luxuriant Neapolitan; but when he +chose he could produce marvels. Haven't you seen his Saint Teresa?" + +"No." + +"Then you must see it. Let's take a carriage." + +They drove to the Piazza San Bernardo, a little square containing three +churches and a fountain, and went into Santa Maria della Vittoria. + +Kennedy went straight toward the high altar, and stopped to the left of +it. + +In an altar of the transept is to be seen a group carved in marble, +representing the ecstasy of Saint Teresa. Caesar gazed at it absorbed. +The saint is an attractive young girl, falling backward in a sensual +spasm; her eyes are closed, her mouth open, and her jaw a bit +dislocated. In front of the swooning saint is a little angel who +smilingly threatens her with an arrow. + +"Well, what do you think of it?" said Kennedy. + +"It is wonderful," exclaimed Caesar. "But it is a bedroom scene, only +the lover has slipped away." + +"Yes, that is true." + +"It really is pretty; you seem to see the pallor of the saint's face, +the circles under her eyes, the relaxation of all her muscles. Then the +angel is a little joker who stands there smiling at the ecstasy of the +saint." + +"Yes, that's true," said Kennedy; "it is all the more admirable for the +very reason that it is tender, sensual, and charming, all at once." + +"However, this sort of thing is not healthy," murmured Caesar, "this +kind of vision depletes your life-force. One wants to find the same +things represented in works of art that one ought to look for in life, +even if they are not to be found in life." + +"Good! Here enters the moralist. You talk like an Englishman," exclaimed +Kennedy. "Let us go along." + +"Where?" + +"I have to stop in at the French Embassy a moment; then we can go where +you like." + + + +_CORNERS OF ROME_ + +They went back to the carriage, and having crossed through the centre of +Rome, got out in front of the Farnese Palace. + +"I will be out inside of ten minutes," said Kennedy. + +The Farnese Palace aroused great admiration in Caesar; he had never +passed it before. By one of the fountains in the _piazza,_ he stood +gazing at the huge square edifice, which seemed to him like a die cut +from an immense block of stone. + +"This really gives me an impression of grandeur and force," he said to +himself. "What a splendid palace! It looks like an ancient knight in +full armour, looking indifferently at everything, sure of his own +worth." + +Caesar walked from one end of the _piazza_ to the other, absorbed in the +majestic pile of stone. + +Kennedy surprised him in his contemplation. + +"Now will you say that you are a good philistine?" + +"Ah, well, this palace is magnificent. Here are grandeur, strength, +overwhelming force." + +"Yes, it is magnificent; but very uncomfortable, my French colleagues +tell me." + +Kennedy related the history of the Farnese Palace to Caesar. They went +through the Via del Mascherone and came out into the Via Giulia. + +"This Via Giulia is a street in a provincial capital," said Kennedy; +"always sad and deserted; a Cardinal or two who like isolation are still +living here." + +At the entrance to the Via dei Farnesi, Caesar stopped to look at two +marble tablets set into the wall at the two sides of a chapel door. + +Cut on the tablets were skeletons painted black; on one, the words: +"Alms for the poor dead bodies found in the fields," and on the other: +"Alms for the perpetual lamp in the cemetery." + +"What does this mean?" said Caesar. + +"That is the Church of the Orison of the Confraternity of Death. The +tablets are modern." + +They passed by the "Mascherone" again, and went rambling on until they +reached the Synagogue and the Theatre of Marcellus. + +They went through narrow streets without sidewalks; they passed across +tiny squares; and it seemed like a dead city, or like the outskirts of a +village. In certain streets towered high dark palaces of blackish stone. +These mysterious palaces looked uninhabited; the gratings were eaten +with rust, all sorts of weeds grew on the roofs, and the balconies were +covered with climbing plants. At corners, set into the wall, one saw +niches with glass fronts. A painted madonna, black now, with silver +jewels and a crown, could be guessed at inside, and in front a little +lantern swung on a cord. + +Suddenly a cart would come down one of these narrow streets without +sidewalks, driving very quickly and scattering the women and children +seated by the gutter. + +In all these poor quarters there were lanes crossed by ropes loaded with +torn washing; there were wretched black shops from which an odour of +grease exhaled; there were narrow streets with mounds of garbage in the +middle. In the very palaces, now shorn of their grandeur, appeared +the same decoration of rags waving in the breeze. In the Theatre of +Marcellus one's gaze got lost in the depths of black caves, where smiths +stood out against flames. + +This mixture of sumptuousness and squalor, of beauty and ugliness, was +reflected in the people; young and most beautiful women were side by +side with fat, filthy old ones covered with rags, their eyes gloomy, and +of a type that recalled old African Jewesses. + + + +_WHAT CAN BE READ ON WALLS_ + +Caesar and Kennedy went on toward the Temple of Vesta and followed the +river bank until the Tiber Embankment ended. + +Here the banks were green and the river clearer and more poetic. To the +left rose the Aventine with its villas; in the harbour two or three tugs +were tied up; and here and there along the pier stood a crane. Evening +was falling and the sky was filling with pink clouds. + +They sat down awhile on the side of the road, and Caesar entertained +himself deciphering the inscriptions written in charcoal on a mud-wall. + +"Do you go in for modern epigraphy?" asked Kennedy. + +"Yes. It is one of the things I take pleasure in reading, in the towns +I go to; the advertisements in the newspapers and the writings on the +wall." + +"It's a good kind of curiosity." + +"Yes, I believe one learns more about the real life in a town from such +inscriptions than from the guide- and text-books." + +"That's possible. And what conclusions have you drawn from your +observations?" + +"They are not of much value. I haven't constructed a science of +wall-inscriptions, as that fake Lambroso would have done." + +"But you will construct it surely, when you have lighted on the +underlying system." + +"You think my epigraphical science is on the same level as my financial +science. What a mistake!" + +"All right. But tell me what you have discovered about different towns." + +"London, for instance, I have found, is childish in its inscriptions and +somewhat clownish. When some sentimental foolishness doesn't occur to a +Londoner of the people, some brutality or rough joke occurs to him." + +"You are very kind," said Kennedy, laughing. + +"Paris has a vulgar, cruel taste; in the Frenchman of the people you +find the tiger alternating with the monkey. There the dominant note on +the walls is the patriotic note, insults to politicians, calling them +assassins and thieves, and also sentiments of revenge expressed by +an _'A mort Dupin!'_ or _'A mort Duval!'_ Moreover, there is a great +enthusiasm for the guillotine." + +"And Madrid?" + +"Madrid is at heart a rude, moral town with little imagination, and +the epigraphs on the walls and benches are primitive." + +"And in Rome what do you find?" + +"Here one finds a mixture of pornography, romanticism, and politics. +A heart pierced by an arrow and poetic phrases, alternate with some +enormous piece of filthiness and with hurrahs for Anarchy or for the +_'Papa-re.'_" + +"Well done!" said Kennedy; "I can see that the branch of epigraphy you +practise amounts to something. It should be systematized and given a +name." + +"What do you think we should name it? Wallography?" + +"Very good." + +"And one of these fine days we can systematize it. Now we might go and +get dinner." + +They took a tram which was coming back from St. Paul's beyond the Walls, +and returned to the heart of the city. + + + +_THE MONK WITH THE RED NOSE_ + +The next day Caesar was finishing dressing when the servant told him +that a gentleman was waiting for him. + +"Who is it?" asked Caesar. + +"It's a monk." + +Caesar went to the salon and there found a tall monk with an evil face, +a red nose, and a worn habit. + +Caesar recalled having seen him, but didn't know where. + +"What can I do for you?" asked Caesar. + +"I come from His Eminence, Cardinal Fort. I must speak with you." + +"Let's go into the dining-room. We shall be alone there." + +"It would be better to talk in your room." + +"No, there is no one here. Besides, I have to eat breakfast. Will you +join me?" + +"No, thanks," said the monk. + +Caesar remembered having seen that face in the Altemps palace. He was +doubtless one of the domestic monks who had been with the Abb Preciozi. + +The waiter came bringing Caesar's breakfast. "Will you tell me what it +is?" said Caesar to the ecclesiastic, while he filled his cup. + +The monk waited until the waiter was gone, and then said in a hard +voice: + +"His Eminence the Cardinal sent me to bid you not to present yourself +anywhere again, giving his name." + +"What? What does this mean?" asked Caesar, calmly. + +"It means that His Eminence has found out about your intrigues and +machinations." + +"Intrigues? What intrigues were those?" + +"You know perfectly well. And His Eminence forbids you to continue in +that direction." + +"His Eminence forbids me to pay calls? And for what reason?" + +"Because you have used his name to introduce yourself into certain +places." + +"It is not true." + +"You have told people you went to that you are Cardinal Fort's nephew." + +"And I am not?" asked Caesar, after taking a swallow of coffee. + +"You are trying to make use of the relationship, we don't know with what +end in view." + +"I am trying to make use of my relationship to Cardinal Fort? Why +shouldn't I?" + +"You admit it?" + +"Yes, I admit it. People are such imbeciles that they think it is an +honour to have a Cardinal in the family; I take advantage of this stupid +idea, although I do not share it, because for me a Cardinal is merely an +object of curiosity, an object for an archeological museum...." + +Caesar paused, because the monk's countenance was growing dark. In the +twilight of his pallid face, his nose looked like a comet portending +some public calamity. + +"Poor wretch!" murmured the monk. "You do not know what you are saying. +You are blaspheming. You are offending God." "Do you really believe that +God has any relation to my uncle?" asked Caesar, paying more attention +to his toast than to his visitor. + +And then he added: + +"The truth is that it would be extravagant behaviour on the part of +God." + +The monk looked at Caesar with terrible eyes. Those grey eyes of his, +under their long, black, thick brows, shot lightning. + +"Poor wretch!" repeated the monk. "You ought to have more respect for +things above you." + +Caesar arose. + +"You are bothering me and preventing me from drinking my coffee," he +said, with exquisite politeness, and touched the bell. + +"Be careful!" exclaimed the monk, seizing Caesar's arm with violence. + +"Don't you touch me again," said Caesar, pulling away violently, his +face pale and his eyes flashing. "If you do, I have a revolver here with +five chambers, and I shall take pleasure in emptying them one by one, +taking that lighthouse you carry about for a nose, as my target." + +"Fire it if you dare." + +Fortunately the waiter had come in on hearing the bell. + +"Do you wish anything, sir?" he asked. + +"Yes, please escort this clerical gentleman to the door, and tell him on +the way not to come back here." + +Days later Caesar found out that there had been a great disturbance at +the Altemps palace in consequence of the calls he had made. Preciozi +had been punished and sent away from Rome, and the various Spanish +monasteries and colleges warned not to receive Caesar. + + + + +XV + +GIOVANNI BATTISTA, PAGAN + + +"My dear Caesar," said Kennedy, "I believe it will be very difficult for +you to find what you want by looking for it. You ought to leave it a +little to chance." + +"Abandon myself to events as they arrive? All right, it seems a good +idea." + +"Then if you find something practicable, utilize it." + +Kennedy took his friend to a statue-shop where he used to pass some of +his hours. The shop was in a lane near the Forum, and its stock was in +antiques, majolicas, and plaster casts of pagan gods. + +The shop was dark and rather gloomy, with a small court at the back +covered with vines. The proprietor was an old man, with a moustache, +an imperial, and a shock of white hair. His name was Giovanni Battista +Lanza. He professed revolutionary ideas and had great enthusiasm about +Mazzini. He expressed himself in an ironical and malicious manner. + +Signora Vittoria, his wife, was a grumbling old woman, rather devoted to +wine. She spoke like a Roman of the lowest class, was olive-coloured and +wrinkled, and of her former beauty there remained only her very black +eyes and hair that was still black. + +The daughter, Simonetta, a girl who resembled her father, blond, with +the build of a goddess, was the one that waited on customers and kept +the accounts. + +Simonetta, being the manager, divided up the profits; the elder son was +head of the workshop and he made the most money; then came two workmen +from outside; and then the father who still got his day's wages, out +of consideration for his age; and finally the younger son, twelve or +fourteen years old, who was an apprentice. + +Simonetta gave her mother what was indispensable for household expenses +and managed the rest herself. + +Kennedy retailed this information the first day they went to Giovanni +Battista Lanza's house. Caesar could see Simonetta keeping the books, +while the small brother, in a white blouse that came to his heels, was +chasing a dog, holding a pipe in his hand by the thick part, as if it +were a pistol, the dog barking and hanging on to the blouse, the small +boy shrieking and laughing, when Signora Vittoria came bawling out. + +Kennedy presented Simonetta to his friend Caesar, and she smiled and +gave her hand. + +"Is Signore Giovanni Battista here?" Kennedy asked Signora Vittoria. + +"Yes, he is in the court." she answered in her gloomy way. + +"Is something wrong with your mamma?" said Kennedy to Simonetta. + +"Nothing." + +They went into the court and Giovanni Battista arose, very dignified, +and bowed to Caesar. The elder son and the two workmen in white blouses +and paper caps were busy with water and wires, cleaning a plaster mould +they had just emptied. + +The mould was a big has-relief of the Way of the Cross. Giovanni +Battista permitted himself various jocose remarks about the Way of +the Cross, which his son and the other two workmen heard with +great indifference; but while he was still emptying his store of +anti-Christian irony, the voice of Signora Vittoria was heard, crying +domineeringly: + +"Giovanni Battista!" + +"What is it?" + +"That's enough, that's enough! I can hear you from here." + +"That's my wife," said Giovanni Battista, "she doesn't like me to be +lacking in respect for plaster saints." "You are a pagan!" screamed the +old woman. "You shall see, you shall see what will happen to you." + +"What do you expect to have happen to me, darling?" + +"Leave her alone," exclaimed the elder son, ill at ease; "you always +have to be making mother fly into a rage." + +"No, my boy, no; she is the one who makes me fly into a rage." + +"Giovanni Battista is used to living among gods," said Kennedy, "and he +despises saints." + +"No, no," replied the cast-maker; "some saints are all right. If all +the churches had figures by Donatello or Robbia, I would go to church +oftener; but to go and look at those statues in the Jesuit churches, +those figures with their arms spread and their eyes rolling.... Oh, no! +I cannot look at such things." + +Caesar could see that Giovanni Battista expressed himself very well; +but that he was not precisely a star when it came to working. After the +mould for the bas-relief was cleaned and fixed, the cast-maker invited +Caesar and Kennedy to have a glass of wine in a wine-shop near by. + +"How's this, are you leaving already, father?" said Simonetta, as he +went through the shop to get to the street. + +"I'm coming back, I'm coming back right away." + + + +_SUPERSTITIONS_ + +The three of them went to a rather dirty tavern in the same lane, +and settled themselves by the window. This post was a good point of +observation for that narrow street, so crowded and so picturesque. + +Workmen went by, and itinerant vendors, women with kerchiefs, half +head-dress and half muffler, and with black eyes and expressive faces. +Opposite was a booth of coloured candies, dried figs strung on a reed, +and various kinds of sweets. + +A wine-cart passed, and Kennedy made Caesar observe how decorative it +was with its big arm-seat in the middle and its hood above, like a +prompter's box. + +Giovanni Battista ordered a flask of wine for the three of them. While +he chatted and drank, friends of his came to greet them. They were men +with beards, long hair, and soft hats, of the Garbaldi and Verdi type so +abundant in Italy. + +Among them were two serious old men; one was a model, a native of +Frascati, with the face of a venerable apostle; the other, for contrast, +looked like a buffoon and was the possessor of a grotesque nose, long, +thin at the end and adorned with a red wart. + +"My wife has a deadly hatred for all of them," said Giovanni Battista, +laughing. + +"And why so?" asked Caesar. + +"Because we talk politics and sometimes they ask me for a few +pennies...." + +"Your wife must have a lively temper,..." said Caesar. + +"Yes, an unhappy disposition; good, awfully good; but very +superstitious. Christianity has produced nothing but superstitions." + +"Giovanni Battista is a pagan, as his wife well says," asserted Kennedy. + +"What superstitions has your wife?" asked Caesar. + +"All of them. Romans are very superstitious and my wife is a Roman. If +you see a hunchback, it is good luck; if you see three, then your luck +is magnificent and you have to swallow your saliva three times; on the +other hand, if you see a humpbacked woman it is a bad omen and you must +spit on the ground to keep away the _jettatura_. Three priests together +is a very good sign. We ought all to get along very well in Rome, +because we see three and up to thirty priests together." + +"A spider is also very significant," said Kennedy; "in the morning it is +of bad augury, and in the evening good." + +"And at noon?" asked Caesar. + +"At noon," answered Lanza, laughing, "it means nothing to speak of. But +if you wish to make sure whether it is a good auspice or a bad, you kill +the spider and count its legs. If they are an even number, it is a good +omen; if uneven, bad." + +"But I believe spiders always have an even number of legs," said Caesar. + +"Certainly," responded the old man; "but my wife swears they do not; +that she has seen many with seven and nine legs. It is religious +unreasonableness." + +"Are there many people like that, so credulous?" asked Caesar. + +"Oh, lots," replied Lanza; "in the shops you will find amulets, horns, +hands made of coral or horseshoes, all to keep away bad luck. My wife +and the neighbour women play the lottery, by combining the numbers of +their birthdays, and the ages of their fathers, their mothers, and their +children. When some relative dies, they make a magic combination of +the dates of birth and death, the day and the month, and buy a lottery +ticket. They never win; and instead of realizing that their systems +are of no avail, they say that they omitted to count in the number of +letters in the name or something of that sort. It is comical, so much +religion and so much superstition." + +"But you confuse religion and superstition, my friend," said Kennedy. + +"It's all the same," answered the old man, smiling his suavely ironical +smile. "There is nothing except Nature." + +"You do not believe in miracles, Giovanni Battista?" asked the +Englishman. + +"Yes, I believe in the earth's miracles, making trees and flowers grow, +and the miracle of children's being born from their mothers. The other +miracles I do not believe in. What for? They are so insignificant beside +the works of Nature!" + +"He is a pagan," Kennedy again stated. + + + +_YOUNG PAINTERS_ + +They were chatting, when three young lads came into the tavern, all +three having the air of artists, black clothes, soft hats, flowing +cravats, long hair, and pipes. "Two of them are fellow-countrymen of +yours," Kennedy told Caesar. + +"They are Spanish painters," the old man added. "The other is a sculptor +who has been in the Argentine, and he talks Spanish too." + +The three entered and sat down at the same table and were introduced to +Caesar. Everybody chattered. Buonacossi, the Italian, was a real type. +Of very low stature, he had a giant's torso and strong little legs. His +head was like a woe-begone eagle, his nose hooked, thin, and reddish, +eyes round, and hair black. + +Buonacossi proved to be gay, exuberant, changeable, and full of +vehemence. + +He explained his artistic ideas with picturesque warmth, mingling them +with blasphemies and curses. Things struck him as the best or the worst +in the world. For him there doubtless were no middle terms. + +One of the two Spaniards was serious, grave, jaundiced, sour-visaged, +and named Corts; the other, large, ordinary, fleshy, and coarse, seemed +rather a bully. + +Giovanni Battista was not able to be long outside the workshop, no doubt +because his conscience troubled him, and though with difficulty, he got +up and left. Kennedy, Caesar, and the two Spaniards went toward the +Piazza, del Campidoglio, and Buonacossi marched off in the opposite +direction. + +On reaching the Via Nazionale, Kennedy took his leave and Caesar +remained with the two Spaniards. The red, fleshy one, who had the air of +a bully, started in to make fun of the Italians, and to mimic their bows +and salutes; then he said that he had an engagement with a woman and +made haste to take his leave. + +When he had gone, the grave Spaniard with the sour face, said to Caesar: + +"That chap is like the dandies here; that's why he imitates them so +well." + +Afterwards Corts talked about his studies in painting; he didn't get +on well, he had no money, and anyway Rome didn't please him at all. +Everything seemed wrong to him, absurd, ridiculous. + +Caesar, after he had said good-bye to him, murmured: "The truth is that +we Spaniards are impossible people." + + + + +XVI + +THE PORTRAIT OF A POPE + + +Two or three days later Caesar met the Spaniard Corts in the Piazza +Colonna. They bowed. The thin, sour-looking painter was walking with a +beardless young German, red and snub-nosed. This young man was a painter +too, Corts said; he wore a green hat with a cock's feather, a blue +cape, thick eyeglasses, big boots, and had a certain air of being a +blond Chinaman. + +"Would you like to come to the Doria gallery with us?" asked Corts. + +"What is there to see there?" + +"A stupendous portrait by Velzquez." + +"I warn you that I know nothing about pictures." + +"Nobody does," Corts declared roundly. "Everybody says what he thinks." + +"Is the gallery near here?" + +"Yes, just a step." + +In company with Corts and the German with the green hat with the cock's +feather, Caesar went to the Piazza del Collegio Romano, where the Doria +palace is. They saw a lot of pictures which didn't seem any better to +Caesar than those in the antique shops and the pawnbrokers', but which +drew learned commentaries from the German. Then Corts took them to a +cabinet hung in green and lighted by a skylight. There was nothing to +be seen in the cabinet except the portrait of the Pope. In order that +people might look at it comfortably, a sofa had been installed facing +it. + +"Is this the Velzquez portrait?" asked Caesar. + +"This is it." + +Caesar looked at it carefully. "That man had eaten and drunk well before +his portrait was painted," said Caesar; "his face is congested." + +"It is extraordinary!" exclaimed Corts. "It is something to see, the +way this is done. What boldness! Everything is red, the cape, the cap, +the curtains in the background.... What a man!" + +The German aired his opinions in his own language, and took out a +notebook and pencil and wrote some notes. + +"What sort of man was this?" asked Caesar, whom the technical side of +painting did not preoccupy, as it did Corts. + +"They say he was a dull man, who lived under a woman's domination." + +"The great thing is," murmured Caesar, "how the painter has left him +here alive. It seems as if we had come in here to salute him, and he +was waiting for us to speak. Those clear eyes are questioning us. It is +curious." + +"Not curious," exclaimed Corts, "but admirable." + +"For me it is more curious than admirable. There is something brutal in +this Pope; through his grey beard, which is so thin, you can see his +projecting chin. The good gentleman was of a marked prognathism, a type +of degeneration, indifference, intellectual torpor, and nevertheless, he +reached the top. Perhaps in the Church it's the same as in water, only +corks float." + + + + +_LEGEND AND HISTORY_ + + +Caesar went out of the cabinet, leaving the German and Corts seated on +the sofa, absorbed in the picture; he looked at various paintings in the +gallery, went back, and sat down, beside the artists. + +"This portrait," he said presently, "is like history by the side of +legend. All the other paintings in the gallery are legend, 'folk-lore,' +as I believe one calls it. This one is history." + +"That's what it is. It is truth," agreed Corts. + +"Yes, but there are people who do not like the truth, my friend. I tell +you: this is a man of flesh, somewhat enigmatic, like nature herself, +and with arteries in which blood flows; this is a man who breathes and +digests, and not merely a pleasant abstraction; you, who understand such +things, will tell me that the drawing is perfect, and the colour such +as it was in reality; but how about the person who doesn't ask for +reality?" + +"Stendhal, the writer, was affected that way by this picture," said +Corts; "he was shocked at its being hung among masterpieces." + +"He found it bad, no doubt." + +"Very bad?" + +"Was this Stendhal English?" + +"No, French." + +"Ah, then, you needn't be surprised. A Frenchman has no obligation to +understand anything that's not French." + +"Nevertheless he was an intelligent man." + +"Did he perhaps have a good deal of veneration?" + +"No, he boasted of not having any." + +"Doubtless he did have without suspecting it. With a man who had no +veneration, what difference would it make whether there was one bad +thing among a lot of good ones?" + +The German with the green hat, who understood something of the +conversation, was indignant at Caesar's irreverent ideas. He asked him +if he understood Latin, and Caesar told him no, and then, in a strange +gibberish, half Latin and half Italian, he let loose a series of facts, +dates, and numbers. Then he asserted that all artistic things of great +merit were German: Greece. Rome, Gothic architecture, the Italian +Renaissance, Leonardo da Vinci, Velzquez, all German. + +The snub-nosed young person, with his cape and his green hat with its +cock-feather, did not let a mouse escape from his German mouse-trap. + +The data of the befeathered German were too much for Caesar, and he took +his leave of the painters. + + + + +XVII + +EVIL DAYS + + +Accompanied by Kennedy, Caesar called repeatedly on the most auspicious +members of the French clerical element living in Rome, and found persons +more cultivated than among the rough Spanish monks; but, as was natural, +nobody gave him any useful information offering the possibility of his +putting his financial talents to the proof. + +"Something must turn up," he used to say to himself, "and at the least +opening we will dive into the work." + +Caesar kept gathering notes about people who had connections in Spain +with the Black party in Rome; he called several times on Father +Herreros, despite his uncle's prohibition, and succeeded in getting the +monk to write to the Marquesa de Montsagro, asking if there were no +means of making Caesar Moneada, Cardinal Fort's nephew, Conservative +Deputy for her district. + +The Marquesa wrote back that it was impossible; the Conservative Deputy +for the district was very popular and a man with large properties there. + +When Holy Week was over, Laura and the Countess Brenda and her daughter +decided to spend a while at Florence, and invited Caesar to accompany +them; but he was quite out of harmony with the Brenda lady, and said +that he had to stay on in Rome. + +A few days later Mme. Dawson and her daughters left, and the San +Martinos and the Marchesa Sciacca; and an avalanche of English people +and Germans, armed with their red Baedekers, took the hotel by storm. +Susanna Marchmont had gone to spend some days at Corfu. + +In less than a week Caesar remained alone, knowing nobody in the hotel, +and despite his believing that he was going to be perfectly indifferent +about this, he felt deserted and sad. The influence of the springtime +also affected him. The deep blue sky, cloudless, dense, dark, made him +languish. Instead of entertaining himself with something or other, he +did scarcely anything all day long but walk. + + + +_TWO ABSURD MEN_ + + +"I have continually near me in the hotel," wrote Caesar to Alzugaray, +"two absurd fellows: one is one of those stout red Germans with a square +head; the other a fine slim Norwegian. The German, who is a captain in +some service or other, is a restless man, always busy about what the +devil I don't know. He is constantly carrying about trunks and boxes, +with the aid of a sorrowful valet, dressed in black, who appears to +detest his position. The captain must devote the morning to doing +gymnastics, for I hear him from my room, which is next to his, jumping +and dropping weights on the floor, each of which must weigh half a ton, +to judge by the noise they make. + +"He does all this to vocal commands, and when some feat doesn't go right +he reprimands himself. + +"This German isn't still a moment; he opens the salon door, crosses the +room, stands at the window, takes up a paper, puts it down. He is a type +that makes me nervous. + +"The Norwegian at first appeared to be a reasonable man, somewhat +sullen. He looked frowningly at me, and I watched him equally +frowningly, and took him for a thinker, an Ibsenite whose imagination +was lost among the ice of his own country. Now and then I would see +him walking up and down the corridor, rubbing his hands together so +continuously and so frantically that they made a noise like bones. + +"Suddenly, this gentleman is transformed as if by magic; he begins to +joke with the servants, he seizes a chair and dances with it, and the +other day I saw him alone in the salon marching around with a paper hat +on his head, like children playing soldiers, and blowing on a cornet, +also made of paper." I stared at him in amazement, he smiled like a +child, and asked if he was disturbing me. + +"'No, no, not in the least,' I told him. + +"I have asked in the hotel if this man is crazy, and they have told me +that he is not, but is a professor, a man of science, who is known to +have these strange fits of gaiety. + +"Another of the Norwegian's doings has been to compose a serenade, with +a vulgar melody that would disgust you, and which he has dedicated '_A +la bella Italia_.' He wrote the Italian words himself, but as he knows +no music, he had a pianist come here and write out his serenade. What +he especially wants is that it should be full of sentiment; and so the +pianist arranged it with directions and many pauses, which satisfied +the Norwegian. Almost every night the serenade '_A la bella Italia_' +is sung. Somebody who wants to amuse himself goes to the piano, the +Norwegian strikes a languid attitude and chants his serenade. Sometimes +he goes in front of the piano, sometimes behind, but invariably he hears +the storm of applause when it ends, and he bows with great gusto. + +"I don't know whether it's the other people who are laughing at him, or +he who is laughing at the others. + +"The other day he said to me in his macaronic Italian: + +"'Mr. Spaniard, I have good eyesight, good hearing, a good sense of +smell, and ... lots of sentiment.' + +"I didn't exactly understand what he meant me to think, and I didn't pay +any attention to him. + +"It seems that the Norwegian is going away soon, and as the day of his +departure approaches, he grows funereal." + + +_THE SADNESS OF LIFE_ + +"I don't know why I don't go away," Caesar wrote to his friend another +time. "When I go out in the evening and see the ochre-coloured houses on +both sides and the blue sky above, a horrible sadness takes me. These +spring days oppress me, make me want to weep; it seems to me it would +be better to be dead, leaving no tomb or name or other ridiculous and +disagreeable thing, but disappearing into the air or the sea. It +doesn't seem natural; but I have never been so happy as one time when I +was in Paris sick, alone and with a fever. I was in an hotel room and +my window looked into the garden of a fine house, where I could see the +tops of the trees; and I transformed them into a virgin forest, wherein +marvellous adventures happened to me. + +"Since then I have often thought that things are probably neither good +nor bad, neither sad nor happy, in themselves; he who has sound, normal +nerves, and a brain equally sound, reflects the things around him like a +good mirror, and feels with comfort the impression of his conformity to +nature; nowadays we who have nerves all upset and brains probably upset +too, form deceptive reflections. And so, that time in Paris, sick and +shut in, I was happy; and here, sound and strong, when toward nightfall, +I look at the splendid skies, the palaces, the yellow walls that take an +extraordinary tone, I feel that I am one of the most miserable men on +the planet...." + + + +_ONE SUNDAY AFTERNOON_ + +His lack of tranquillity led Caesar to make absurd resolutions which he +didn't carry out. + +One Sunday in the beginning of April, he went out into the street, +disposed to take a walk outside of Rome, following the road anywhere it +led. A hard, fine rain was falling, the sky was grey, the air mild, the +streets were full of puddles, the shops closed; a few flower merchants +were offering branches of almond in blossom. + +Caesar was very depressed. He went into a church to get out of the rain. +The church was full; there were many people in the centre of it; he +didn't know what they were doing. Doubtless they were gathered there for +some reason, although Caesar didn't understand what. Caesar sat down on +a bench, worn out; he would have liked to listen to organ music, to a +boy choir. No ideas occurred to him but sentimental ones. Some time +passed, and a priest began to preach. Caesar got up and went into the +street. + +"I must get rid of these miserable impressions, get back to noble ideas. +I must fight this sentimental leprosy." + +He started to walk with long strides through the sad, empty streets. + +He went toward the river and met Kennedy, who was coming back, he told +him, from the studio of a sculptor friend of his. + +"You look like desolation. What has happened to you?" + +"Nothing, but I am in a perfectly hellish humour." + +"I am melancholy too. It must be the weather. Let's take a walk." + +They went along the bank of the Tiber. Full of clay, more turbid than +ever, and very high between the white embankments hemming it in, the +river looked like a big sewer. + +"This is not the 'coeruleus Tibris' that Virgil speaks of in the +Aeneld, which presented itself to Aeneas in the form of an ancient man +with his head crowned with roses," said Kennedy. + +"No. This is a horrible river," Caesar opined. + +They followed the shore, passed the Castel Sant' Angelo and the bridge +with the statues. + +From the embankment, to the right, they could now see narrow lanes, sunk +almost below the level of the river. On the other bank a new, white +edifice towered in the rain. + +They went as far as the Piazza d'Armi, and then came back at nightfall +to Rome. The rain was gradually ceasing and the sky looked less +threatening. A file of greenish gaslights followed the river-wall and +then crossed over the bridge. + +They walked to the Piazza del Poplo and through the Via Babuino to the +Piazza di Spagna. + +"Would you like to go to a Benedictine abbey tomorrow?" asked Kennedy. + +"All right." + +"And if you are still melancholy, we will leave you there." + + + +_THE ABBEY_ + +The next day, after lunch, Kennedy and Caesar went to visit the abbey of +Sant' Anselmo on the Aventine. The abbot, Hildebrand, was a friend +of Kennedy's, and like him an Englishman. + +They took a carriage and Kennedy told it to stop at the church of Santa +Sabina. + +"It is still too early to go to the abbey. Let us look at this church, +which is the best preserved of all the old Roman ones." + +They entered the church; but it was so cold there that Caesar went out +again directly and waited in the porch. There was a man there selling +rosaries and photographs who spoke scarcely any Italian or French, but +did speak Spanish. Probably he was a Jew. + +Caesar asked him where they manufactured those religious toys, and the +pedlar told him in Westphalia. + +Kennedy went to look at a picture by Sassoferrato, which is in one of +the chapels, and meanwhile the rosary-seller showed the church door to +Caesar and explained the different bas-reliefs, cut in cypress wood by +Greek artists of the V Century, and representing scenes from the Old and +New Testaments. + +Kennedy came back, they got into the carriage again, and they drove to +the Benedictine abbey. + +"Is the abbot Hildebrandus here?" asked Kennedy. + +Out came the abbot, a man of about fifty, with a gold cross on his +breast. They exchanged a few friendly words, and the superior showed +them the convent. + +The refectory was clean and very spacious; the long table of shining +wood; the floor made of mosaic. The crypt held a statue, which Caesar +assumed must be of Sant' Anselmo. The church was severe, without +ornaments, without pictures; it had a primitive air, with its columns of +fine granite that looked like marble. A monk was playing the harmonium, +and in the opaque veiled light, the thin music gave a strange impression +of something quite outside this life. + +Afterwards they crossed a large court with palm-trees. They went up to +the second story, and down a corridor with cells, each of which had on +the lintel the name of the patron saint of the respective monk. Each +door had a card with the name of the occupant of the room. + +It looked more like a bath-house than a monastery. The cells were +comfortable inside, without any air of sadness; each held a bed, a +divan, and a small bookcase. + +By a window at the end of the passage, one could see, far away, the +Alban Hills, looking like a blue mountain-range, half hidden in white +haze, and nearby one could see the trees in the Protestant cemetery and +the pyramid of Caus Cestius close to them. + +Caesar felt a sort of deep repugnance for the people shut up here, +remote from life and protected from it by a lot of things. + +"The man who is playing the harmonium in this church with its opaque +light, is a coward," he said to himself. "One must live and struggle in +the open air, among men, in the midst of their passions and hatreds, +even though one's miserable nerves quiver and tremble." + +After showing them the monastery, the abbot Hildebrand took them to his +study, where he worked at revising ancient translations of the Bible. He +had photographic copies of all the Latin texts and he was collating them +with the original. + +They talked of the progress of the Church, and the abbot commented with +some contempt on the worldly success of the Jesuit churches, with their +saints who serve as well to get husbands and rich wives as to bring +winning numbers in the lottery. + +Before going out, they went to a window, at the other end of the +corridor from where they had looked out before. Below them they could +see the Tiber as far as the Ripa harbour; opposite, the heights of the +Janiculum, and further, Saint Peter's. + +When they went out, Kennedy said to Caesar: + +"What devilish effect has the abbey produced in you, that you are so +much gayer than when we went in?" + +"It has confirmed me in my idea, which I had lost for a few days." + +"What idea is that?" + +"That we must not defend ourselves in this life, but attack, always +attack." + +"And now you are contented at having found it again?" + +"Yes." + + +_PIRANESI'S GARDEN_ + + +"I am glad, because you have such a pitiable air when you are sad. Would +you like to go to the Priory of Malta, which is only a step from here?" + +"Good." + +They went down in the carriage to the Priory of Malta. They knocked at +the gate and a woman came out who knew Kennedy, and who told them to +wait a moment and she would open the church. + +"Here," said Kennedy, "you have all that remains of the famous Order of +Saint John of Jerusalem. That anti-historic man Bonaparte rooted it +out of Malta. The Order attempted to establish itself in Catania, and +afterwards at Ferrara, and finally took refuge here. Now it has no +property left, and all that remains are its memories and its archives." + +"That is how our descendants will see our Holy Mother the Church. In +Chicago or Boston some traveller will find an abandoned chapel, and will +ask: 'What is this? 'And they will tell him: 'This is what remains of +the Catholic Church.'" + +"Don't talk like an Homais," said Kennedy. + +"I don't know who Homais is," retorted Caesar. + +"An atheistical druggist in Flaubert's novel, _Madame Bovary. Haven't +you read it?" + +"Yes; I have a vague idea that I have read it. A very heavy thing; yes, +... I think I have read it." + +The woman opened the door and they went into the church. It was small, +overcharged with ornaments. They saw the tomb of Bishop Spinelli and +Giotto's Virgin, and then went into a hall gay with red flags with a +white cross, on whose walls they could read the names of the Grand +Masters of the Order of Malta. The majority of the names were French and +Polish. Two or three were Spanish, and among them that of Caesar Borgia. + +"Your countryman and namesake was also a Grand Master of Malta," said +Kennedy. + +"So it seems," replied Caesar with indifference. "I see that you speak +with contempt of that extraordinary man. Is he not congenial to you?" + +"The fact is I don't know his history." + +"Really?" + +"Yes, really." + +"How strange! We must go tomorrow to the Borgia Apartment in the +Vatican." + +"Good." + +They saw the model of an ancient galley which was in the same hall, and +went out through the church into the garden planned by Piranesi. +The woman showed them a very old palm, with a hole in it made by a +hand-grenade in the year '49. It had remained that way more than half +a century, and it was only a few days since the trunk of the palm had +broken. + +From the garden they went, by a path between trees, to the bastion of +Paul III, a little terrace, from which they could see the Tiber at their +feet, and opposite the panorama of Rome and its environs, in the light +of a beautiful spring sunshine.... + + + +XVIII + +CAESAR BORGIA'S MOTTO, "AUT CAESAR, AUT NIHIL" + +_THE BORGIAS_ + + +The next day was one of the days for visiting the Borgia Apartment. +Caesar and Kennedy met in the Piazza di San Pietro, went into the +Vatican museum, and walked by a series of stairs and passageways to the +Gallery of Inscriptions. + +Then they went down to a hall, at whose door there were guards dressed +in slashed clothes, which were parti-coloured, red, yellow, and black. +Some of them carried lances and others swords. + +"Why are the guards here dressed differently?" asked Caesar. + +"Because this belongs to the Dominions of the Pope." + +"And what kind of guards are these?" + +"These are pontifical Swiss guards." + +"They look comic-opera enough," said Caesar. + +"My dear man, don't say that. This costume was designed by no one less +than Michelangelo." + +"All right. At that time they probably looked very well, but now they +have a theatrical effect." + +"It is because you have no veneration. If you were reverential, they +would look wonderful to you." + +"Very well, let us wait and see whether reverence will not spring up in +me. Now, you go on and explain what there is here." + +"This first room, the Hall of Audience, or of the Popes, does not +contain anything notable, as you see," said Kennedy; "the five we are +coming to later, have been restored, but are still the same as at the +time when your countryman Alexander VI was Pope. All five were decorated +by Pinturicchio and his pupils, and all with reference to the Borgias. +The Borgias have their history, not well known in all its details, and +their legend, which is more extensive and more picturesque. Really, it +is not easy to distinguish one from the other." + +"Let's have the history and the legend mixed." + +"I will give you a rsum in a few words. Alfonso Borja was a Valencian, +born at Jtiba; he was secretary to the King or Aragon; then Bishop of +Valencia, later Cardinal, and lastly Pope, by the name of Calixtus III. +While Calixtus lives, the Spaniards are all-powerful in Rome. Calixtus +protects his nephews, sons of his sister Isabel and a Valencian named +Lanzol or Lenzol. These nephews drop their original name and take their +mother's, Italianizing its spelling to Borgia. Their uncle, the Pope, +appoints the elder, Don Pedro Luis, Captain of the Church; the second, +Don Rodrguez...." + +"Don Rodrguez?" said Caesar. "In Spanish you can't say Don Rodrguez." + +"Gregorovius calls him that." + +"Then Gregorovius, no doubt, knew no Spanish." + +"In Latin he is called Rodericus." + +"Then it should be Don Rodrigo." + +"All right, Rodrigo. Well, this Don Rodrigo, also from Jtiba, his uncle +makes a Cardinal, and at the death of Pedro Luis, he calls him to +Rome. Rodrigo has had several children before becoming a Cardinal, and +apparently he feels no great enthusiasm for ecclesiastical dignities; +but when he finds himself in Rome, the ambition to be Pope assails him, +and at the death of Innocent VIII, he buys the tiara? Is it legend or +history that he bought the tiara? That is not clear. Now we will go in +and see the portrait of Rodrigo Borgia, who in the series of Popes, +bears the name Alexander VI." + +_ALEXANDER VI AND HIS BROTHER_ + +Kennedy and Caesar entered the first room, the Hall of the Mysteries, +and the Englishman stopped in front of a picture of the Resurrection. +"Here you have Alexander VI, on his knees, adoring Christ who is leaving +the tomb. He is the type of a Southerner; he has a hooked nose, a long +head, tonsured, a narrow forehead, thick lips, a heavy beard, a strong +neck, and small chubby hands. He wears a papal robe of gold, covered +with jewels; the tiara is on the ground beside him. Of the soldiers, +it is supposed that the one asleep by the sepulchre and the one who is +waking and rising up, pulling himself to his knees by the aid of his +lance, are two of the Pope's sons, Caesar and the Duke of Gandia. I +rather believe that the little soldier with the lance is a woman, +perhaps Lucrezia. How does your countryman strike you, my friend?" + +"He is of Mediterranean race, a dolichocephalic Iberian; he has the +small melon-shaped head, the sensual features. He is leptorrhine. He +comes of an intriguing, commercial, lying, and charlatan race." + +"To which you have the honour to belong," said Kennedy, laughing. + +"Certainly." + +"They say this man was a great enthusiast about his countrymen and the +customs of his country. These tiles, which are remains of the original +floor, and the plates you see here, are Valencian. A Spanish painter +told me that several letters of Alexander VI's are preserved in the +archives of the cathedral at Valencia, one among them asking to have +tiles sent." + +Kennedy walked forward a little and planted himself before an Assumption +of the Virgin, and said: + +"It is supposed that this gloomy man dressed in red, with a little +fringe of hair on his brow, is a brother of the Pope's." + +"A bad type to encounter in the Tribunal of the Inquisition," said +Caesar; "imagine what this red-robed fellow would have done with that +Jew at the Excelsior, Seor Pereira, if he had happened to have him in +his power." + +"In the soffits," Kennedy went on, "as you see, are repetitions of the +symbols of Iris, Osiris, and the bull Apis, doubtless because of their +resemblance to the Christian symbols, and also because the bull Apis +recalls the bull in the Borgia arms." "Their arms were a bull?" + +"Yes; it was a 'scutcheon invented by some king-at-arms or other, a +symbol of ferocity and strength." + +"Were they of a noble family, these Borgias?" + +"No, probably not. Though I believe some people suppose that they +were descended from the Aragonese family of Atares. Now that we know +Alexander VI, let us take a glance at his court. It has often been said, +and is no doubt taken from Vasari's book, that in the Borgia Apartment +Pinturicchio painted Pope Alexander VI adoring the Virgin represented +under the likeness of his beloved, Julia Farnese. The critic must have +been confused, because none of these madonnas recalls the face of +_Giulia la bella_, whom people used to call the Bride of Christ. The +picture that Vasari refers to must be one in the museum at Valencia." + +_THE HALL OF THE SAINTS_ + +They went into another room, the Hall of the Saints, and Kennedy took +Caesar in front of the fresco called, _The Dispute of Saint Catherine +with the Emperor Maximian. + +"The place of this scene," said Kennedy, "Pinturicchio has set in front +of the Arch of Constantine. The artist has added the inscription _Pacis +Cultori_, and below he has embossed the Borgia bull. The subject is the +discussion between the Emperor and the saint. Maximian, seated on a +throne under a canopy, is listening to Saint Catherine, who counts on +her fingers the arguments she has been using in the dispute. Who was it +served as model for the figure of Maximian? At first they imagined it +was Caesar Borgia; but as you may observe, the appearance of the Emperor +is that of a man of twenty odd years, and when Pinturicchio painted +this, Caesar was about seventeen. So it is more logical to suppose that +the model must have been the Pope's eldest son, the Duke of Gandia. A +chronicler of the period says that this Duke of Gandia was good among +the great, as his brother Caesar was great among the wicked. Also, +legend or history, whichever it be, says that Caesar procured his +elder brother's murder in a corner of the Ghetto, and that the Pope on +learning of it, became as if crazy, and went into the full Consistory +with his garments torn and ashes on his head." + +"What love for traditional symbolism!" said Caesar. + +"Everybody is not so anti-traditional as you. I will go on with my +explanation," added Kennedy. "Saint Catherine has Lucrezia's features. +She is small and slender. She wears her hair down, a little cap with a +pearl cross which hangs on her forehead, and a collar also of pearls. +She has large eyes, a candid expression. Cagnolo da Parma will say of +her, when she goes to Ferrara, that she has '_il naso profilato e bello, +li capelli aurei, gli occhi bianchi, la bocea alquanto grande con li +denti candiaissimi._' Literature will portray this sweet-faced little +blond girl as a Messalina, a poisoner, and incestuous with her brothers +and her father. At this time Lucrezia had just married Giovanni Sforza, +although as a matter of fact the two never lived together. Giovanni +Sforza is the little young man who appears there in the back of the +picture riding a spirited horse. Sforza wears his hair like a woman, and +has a broad-brimmed hat and a red mantle. A little later Caesar Borgia +will try several times to assassinate him." + +"What for?" asked Caesar. + +"No doubt he found him in the way. The man who is in the foreground, +next to the Emperor's throne, is Andrew Paleologos," Kennedy continued. +"He is the one wearing a pale purple cloak and looking so melancholy. It +used to be supposed that he was Giovanni Borgia. Now they say that it is +Paleologos, whom the death of the Emperor Constantine XIII, about this +time, had caused to lose the crown of Byzance. + +"Here at the right, riding a Barbary horse, is Prince Djem, second son +of Muhammad II, whom Alexander VI kept as a hostage. Djem, as you see, +has an expressive face, a prominent nose, lively eyes, a long pointed +beard, a shock of hair, and a big turban. He rides Moorish fashion, with +his stirrups very short, and wears a curved cutlass in his belt. He is a +great friend of Caesar Borgia's, which does not prevent Caesar and his +father, according to public rumour, from poisoning him at a farewell +banquet in Capua. And here is Giovanni Sforza again, on foot. Are those +two children the younger sons of Alexander VI? Or are they Lucrezia and +Caesar again? I don't know. Behind Paleologos are the Pope's domestic +retainers, and among them Pinturicchio himself." + +_THE LIFE OF CAESAR BORGIA_ + +After explaining the picture in detail, Kennedy went into the next room, +followed by Caesar. This is called the Hall of the Liberal Arts, and is +adorned with a large marble mantel. + +"Is there no portrait here of Caesar Borgia?" asked Caesar. + +"No. Here I have a photograph of the one by Giorgione," said Kennedy, +showing a postal card. + +"What sort of man was he? What did he do?" + +Kennedy seated himself on a bench near the window and Caesar sat beside +him. + +"Caesar Borgia," said Kennedy, "came to Rome from the university of +Pisa, approximately at the time when they made his father Pope. He must +then have been about twenty, and was strong and active. He broke in +horses, was an expert fencer and shot, and killed bulls in the ring." + +"That too?" + +"He was a good Spaniard. In a court that cannot be seen from here, on +account of those thick panes, but on which these windows look, Caesar +Borgia fought bulls, and the Pope stood here to watch his son's +dexterity with the sword." + +"What ruffians!" exclaimed Caesar, smiling. + +The Englishman continued with the history of Borgia, his intrigues with +the King of France, the death of Lucrezia's husband, the assassinations +attributed to the Pope's son, the mysterious execution of Ramiro del +Orco, which made Machiavelli say that Caesar Borgia was the prince who +best knew how to make and unmake men, according to their merits; finally +the _coup d'tat_ at Sinigaglia with the _condottieri_. + +By this time Caesar Moncada was very anxious to know more. These Borgias +interested him. His sympathies went out toward those great bandits who +dominated Rome and tried to get all Italy into their power, leaf by +leaf, like an artichoke. Their purpose struck him as a good one, almost +a moral one. The device, _Aut Caesar, aut nihil_, was worthy of a man of +energy and courage. + +Kennedy seeing Caesar's interest, then recounted the scene at Cardinal +Adrian Corneto's country-house; Alexander's intention to give a supper +there to various Cardinals and poison them all with a wine that had +been put into three bottles, so as to inherit from them, the +superstitiousness of the Pope, who sent Cardinal Caraffa to the Vatican +for a golden box in which he kept his consecrated Host, from which he +was never separated; and the mistake of the chamberlain, who served the +poisoned wine to Caesar and his father. + +"Here, to this very room, they brought the dying Pope," said Kennedy, +and pointed to a door, on whose marble lintel one may read: _Alexander +Borgia Valentn P. P._ "They say he passed eight days here between life +and death, before he did die, and that when his corpse was exposed, it +decomposed horribly." + +Then Kennedy related the story of Caesar's trying to cure himself by the +strange method of being put inside of a mule just dead; his flight from +Rome, sick on a litter, with his soldiers, as far as the Romagna; his +imprisonment in the Castel Sant' Angelo; his capture by the Great +Captain; his efforts to escape from his prison at Medina del Campo; and +his obscure death on the Mendavia road, near Viana in Navarre, through +one of the Count of Lerin's soldiers, named Garcs, a native of Agreda, +who gave Borgia such a blow with a lance that it broke his armour and +passed all the way through his body. + +Caesar was stirred up. Hearing the story of the people who had lived +there, in those very rooms, gave him an impression of complete reality. + +When they went out again by the Gallery of Inscriptions, they looked +from a window. + +"It must have been here that he fought bulls?" said Caesar. + +"Yes." + +The court was large, with a fountain of four streams in the middle. +"Life then must have been more intense than now," said Caesar. + +"Who knows? Perhaps it was the same as now," replied Kennedy. + +"And what does history, exact history, say of these Borgias?" + +"Of Pope Alexander VI it says that he had his children in wedlock; that +he was a good administrator; that the people were content with him; that +the influence of Spain was justifiable, because he was Spanish; that the +story of the poisonings does not seem certain; and that he himself could +hardly have died of poison, but rather of a malarial fever." + +"And about Lucrezia?" + +"Of Lucrezia it says that she was a woman like those of her period; that +there are no proofs for belief in her incests and her poisonings; and +that her first marriages, which were never really consummated, were +nothing more than political moves of her father and her brother's." + +"And about Caesar?" + +"Caesar is the one member of the family who appears really terrible. +His device, _Aut Caesar, aut nihil_, was not a chance phrase, but the +irrevocable decision to be a king or to be nothing." + +"That, at least, is not a mystification," murmured Caesar. + + +_IN FRONT OF THE CASTEL SANT' ANGELO_ + +They left the Vatican, crossed the Piazza di San Pietro, and drew near +the river. + +As they passed in front of the Castel Sant' Angelo, Kennedy said: + +"Alexander VI shut himself up in this castle to weep for the Duke of +Gandia. From one of those windows he watched the funeral procession of +his son, whom they were carrying to Santa Maria del Popolo. According to +old Italian custom they bore the corpse in an open casket. The funeral +was at night, and two hundred men with torches lighted the way. When the +cortge set foot on this bridge, the Pope's retinue saw him draw back +with horror, and cover his face, crying out sharply." + + + + +XIX + +CAESAR'S REFLECTIONS + + +"I have had the curiosity," Caesar wrote to his friend Alzugaray, "to +inform myself about the life of the Borgias, and going on from one to +another, I reached Saint Francis Borgia; and from Saint Francis I have +gone backwards to Saint Ignatius Loyola. + +"The parallelism between the doings of Caesar Borgia and of Iigo de +Loyola surprised me; what one tried to do in the sphere of action, the +other did in the sphere of thought. These twin Spanish figures, both +odious to the masses, have given its direction to the Church; one, +Loyola, through the impulse to spiritual power; the other, Caesar +Borgia, through the impulse to temporal power. + +"One may say that Spain gave Papal Rome its thought and activity, as +it gave the Rome of the Caesars also its thought and activity, through +Seneca and Trajan. + +"Really it is curious to see the traces that remain in Rome of +that Basque, Iigo. That half farceur, half ruffian, who had the +characteristics of a modern anarchist, was a genius for organization. +Bakunin and Mazzini are poor devils beside him. The Church still lives +through Loyola. He was her last reformer. + +"The Society of Jesus is the knot of the whole Catholic scaffolding; the +Jesuits know that on the day when this knot, which their Society forms, +is cut or pulled open, the whole frame-work of out-of-date ideas and +lies, which defends the Vatican, will come down with a terrible noise. + +"Rome lives on Jesuitism. Indubitably, without Loyola, Catholicism would +have rotted away much sooner. It is obvious that this would have been +better, but we are not talking about that. A good general is not one who +defends just causes, but one who wins battles. + +"The Borgias, Luther, and Saint Ignatius, between them, killed the +predominance of the Latin race. + +"The Borgias threw discredit on the free Renaissance life, before the +face of all nations; Luther removed the centre of spiritual life and +philosophy to Germany and England; Saint Ignatius prevented Roman +Catholicism from rotting away; he put iron braces on the body that was +doubling over with weakness, and inside his braces the body has gone on +decomposing and has poisoned the Latin countries. + +"On hearing this opinion here, they asked me: + +"'Then you think Catholicism is dead?' + +"'No, no; as to having any civilizing effect, it is dead; but as to +having a sentimental effect, it is very much alive ... and it will still +unfortunately keep on being alive. All this business of the Virgin +del Pilar and the Virgin del Carmen, and saints, and processions, and +magnificent churches, is a terrible strength.... If there were an +emancipated bourgeoisie and a sensible working class, Catholicism would +not be a peril; but there are not, and Catholicism will have, not +perhaps an overpowering expansion, but at least moments of new growth. +While we have a lazy rich class and a brutalized poor class, Catholicism +will be strong.' + +"Leaving the utilitarian and moral questions aside, and considering +merely the amount of influence and the traces left by this influence, +one can see that Rome is living on Loyola's work and still dreaming +of Borgia's. Those pilgrims in the Piazza di San Pietro who +enthusiastically yell, _Viva il Papa-re!_ are acclaiming the memory of +Caesar Borgia. Thus you have the absurd result, people who speak with +horror of an historic figure and still hold his work in admiration. + +"This Spanish influence that our country gave to the Church in two ways, +spiritual and material,--to the Church which now is an institution not +merely foreign but contrary to our nature,--Spain ought today to try +to use in her own behalf. Spain's work ought to be to organize +extra-religious individualism. + +"We are individualists; therefore what we need is an iron discipline, +like soldiers. + +"This discipline established, we ought to spread it through the +contiguous countries, especially through Africa. Democracy, the +Republic, Socialism, have not, essentially, any root in our land. +Families, cities, classes, can be united in a pact; isolated men, like +us, can be united only by discipline. + +"Moreover, as for us, we do not recognize prestige, nor do we cheerfully +accept either kings or presidents or high priests or grand magi. + +"The only thing that would suit us would be to have a chief ... for the +pleasure of eating him alive. + +"A Loyola of the extra-religious individualism is what Spain needs. +Deeds, always deeds, and a cold philosophy, realistic, based on deeds, +and a morality based on action. Don't you agree? + +"I think, and I am becoming more confirmed in my opinion, that the only +people who can give a direction, found a new civilization with its own +proper characteristics, for that old Iberian race, which probably sprang +from the shores of the Mediterranean ... is we Spaniards. + +"'Why only you Spaniards?' my friend Kennedy asked me; and I told him: + +"'To me it seems indubitable. France is leaning constantly more towards +the North. In Italy the same is true; Milan and Turin, where the Saxon +and the Gaul predominate, are the real capitals of Italy. In Spain, +however, this does not happen. We are separated from the rest of Europe +by the Pyrenees, and joined to Africa by the sea and climate. Our plan +ought to be to construct a great European Empire, to impose our ideas on +the peninsula, and then to spread them everywhere.'" + + + + +XX + +DON CALIXTO AT SAINT PETER'S + +_DON CALIXTO UNDERSTANDS_ + + +Kennedy was anxious that Caesar should turn into the good road. The good +road, for him, was art. + +"At heart," the Englishman informed him, "I am one of those Brothers of +the Esthetic Doctrine who irritate you, and I must instruct you in the +faith." + +"I am not opposed to your trying to instruct me." + +The two went several times to see museums, especially the Vatican +museum. + +One day, on leaving the Sistine Chapel, where they had had a long +discussion on the merits of Michelangelo, Caesar met the painter Corts, +who came to speak to him. + +"I am here with a gentleman from my town, who is a Senator," said +Corts. "A boresome old boy. Shall I introduce him?" + +"All right." + +"He is an old fool who knows nothing about anything and talks about +everything." + +Corts presented Caesar to Don Calixto Garca Guerrero, a man of some +fifty-odd, Senator and boss of the province of Zamora. + +Don Calixto invited Caesar and Kennedy to dine with him. The Englishman +expressed regrets, and Caesar said he would go. They took leave of +Corts and Don Calixto, and went out to the Piazza di San Pietro. + +"I imagine you are going to be bored tomorrow dining with that old +countryman of yours," said Kennedy. "Oh, surely. He has all the signs +of a soporific person; but who knows? a type like that sometimes has +influence." + +"So you are dining with him with a more or less practical object?" + +"Why, of course." + +The next evening, Caesar, in his evening clothes, betook himself to an +hotel in the Piazza di Spagna, where Don Calixto Garca Guerrero was +staying. Don Calixto received him very cordially. He doubtless knew that +Caesar was nephew to Cardinal Fort and brother to a marchioness, and +doubtless that flattered Don Calixto. + +Don Calixto honoured Caesar with an excellent dinner, and during dessert +became candid with him. He had come to Rome to put through his obtaining +a Papal title. He was a friend of the Spanish Ambassador to the Vatican, +and it wouldn't have cost him any more to be made a prince, a duke, or +a marquis; but he preferred the title of count. He had a magnificent +estate called La Sauceda, and he wanted to be the Count de la Sauceda. + +Caesar comprehended that this gentleman might be fortune coming in the +guise of chance, and he set himself to making good with him, to telling +him stories of aristocratic life in Rome, some of which he had read in +books, and some of which he had heard somewhere or other. + +"What vices must exist here!" Don Calixto kept exclaiming. "That is why +they say: _'Roma veduta, fede perduta.'_" + +Caesar noted that Don Calixto had a great enthusiasm for the +aristocracy; and so he took pains, every time he talked with him, to mix +the names of a few princes and marquises into the conversation; he also +gave him to understand that he lived among them, and went so far as to +hint the possibility of being of service to him in Rome, but in a +manner ambiguous enough to permit of withdrawing the offer in case of +necessity. Fortunately for Caesar, Don Calixto had his affairs all +completely arranged; the one thing he desired was that Caesar, whom he +supposed to be an expert on archeological questions, should go about +with him the three or four days he expected to remain in Rome. He had +spent a whole week making calls, and as yet had seen nothing. + +Caesar had no other recourse but to buy a Baedeker and read it and learn +a lot of things quite devoid of interest for him. + +The next day Don Calixto was waiting for him in a carriage at the door, +and they went to see the sights. + +Don Calixto was a man that made phrases and ornamented them with many +adverbs ending in -ly. + +"Verily," he said, after his first archeological walk in Rome, "verily, +it seems strange that after more than two thousand years have passed, +all these monuments should still remain." + +"That is most true," replied Caesar, looking at him with his impassive +air. + +"I understand why Rome is the real school for learning, integrally, both +ancient and modern history." + +"Most certainly," agreed Caesar. + +Don Calixto, who knew neither Italian nor French, found a source of +help, for the days he was to spend in Rome, in Caesar's friendship, +and made him accompany him everywhere. Caesar was able to collect and +preserve, though not precisely cut in brass, the phrases Don Calixto +uttered in front of the principal monuments of Rome. + +In front of the Colosseum, his first exclamation was: "What a lot of +stone!" Then recalling his role of orator, he exclaimed: "The spirits +are certainly daunted and the mind darkened on thinking how men could +have sunk to such abysses of evil." + +"Don Calixto is referring to those holes," thought Caesar, looking at +the cellars of the Circo Romano. + +From the Colosseum the carriage went to the Capitol, and then Don +Calixto asserted with energy: + +"One cannot deny that, say what you will, Rome is one of the places most +fertile in memories." + +Don Calixto was an easy traveller for his _cicerone_. He far preferred +talking to being given explanations; Caesar had said to him: "Don +Calixto, you understand everything, by intuition." And being thus +reassured, Don Calixto kept uttering terrible absurdities. + +One day Don Calixto went to see the Pope, in evening clothes and +with his abdomen covered with decorations, and he asked Caesar if +a photographer couldn't take his picture in the act of leaving the +carriage, so that the photograph would have Saint Peter's as a +background. + +"Yes, I think so. Why not? The only thing will be that the photographer +will charge you more." + +"I don't mind that. Could you arrange it for me?" + +"Yes, man." + +What Don Calixto desired was done. + +"How did the Pope impress you?" Caesar asked him as he came out + +"Very favourably, very favourably indeed." + +"He has a stupid face, hasn't he?" + +"No, man, not at all. He is like a nice country priest. His predecessor +was no doubt more of a diplomat, more intelligent." + +"Yes, the other seemed more of a rogue," said Caesar, laughing at the +precautions Don Calixto took in giving his opinion. + +The proofs of the photographs came in the evening, and Don Calixto was +enchanted with them. In one of them you could see the Swiss guard at +the door, with his lance. It was splendid. Don Calixto would not permit +Caesar to go to his hotel, but invited him for dinner; and after dinner +told him he was so indebted that he would be delighted to do anything +Caesar asked him. + +"Why don't you make me a Deputy?" said Caesar, laughing. + +"Do you want to be one?" + +"Yes, man." + +"Really?" + +"I should think so." + +"But you would have to live in Madrid." + +"Certainly." + +"Would you leave here?" + +"Yes, why not?" + +"Then, not another word, we will say no more about it. When the time +comes, you will write to me and say: 'Don Calixto, the moment has +arrived for you to remember your promise: I want to be a Deputy.'" + +"Very good. I will do it, and you shall present me as candidate for +Castro ... Castro ... what?" + +"Castro Duro." + +"You will see me there then." + +"All right. And now, another favour. There is a Canon from Zamora here, +a friend of mine, who came on the pilgrimage and who desires nothing +so much as to see Saint Peter's and the Catacombs rather thoroughly. I +could explain everything to him, but I am not sure about the dates. Will +you come with us?" + +"With great pleasure." + +"Then we shall expect you here at ten." + +"That will be fine." + +Sure enough, at ten Caesar was there. Don Calixto and his friend the +Canon Don Justo, who was a large gentleman, tall and fleshy and with a +long nose, were waiting. The three got into the carriage. + +"I hope this priest isn't going to be one of those library rats who +know everything on earth," thought Caesar, but when he heard him make a +couple of mistakes in grammar, he became tranquil. + + +_THEODORA AND MAROZIA_ + +As they passed the Castel Sant' Angelo, Caesar began to tell the story +of Theodora and her daughter Marozia, the two women who lived there and +who, for forty odd years, changed the Popes as one changes cooks. + +"You know the history of those women?" asked Caesar. + +"I don't," said the Canon. + +"Nor I," added Don Calixto. + +"Then I will tell it to you before we get to Saint Peter's. Theodora, an +influential lady, fell in love with a young priest of Ravenna, and had +him elected Pope, by the name of John X. Her daughter Marozia, a young +girl and a virgin, gave herself to Pope Sergius III, a capricious, +fantastic man, who had once had the witty idea of digging up Pope +Formosus and subjecting him, putrefied as he was, to the judgment of +a Synod. By this eccentric man Marozia had a son, and afterwards was +married three times more. She exercised an omnipotent sway over the Holy +See. John X, her mother's lover, she deposed and sent to die in prison. +With his successor, Leo VI, whom she herself had appointed Pope, she +did the same. The following Pope, Stephen VII, died of illness, twenty +months after his reign began, and then Marozia gave the Papal crown to +the son she had had by Sergius III, who took the name of John XI. This +Pope and his brother Alberic, began to feel their mother's influence +rather heavy, and during a popular revolt they decided to get Marozia +into their power, and they seized her and buried her alive in the _in +pace_ of a convent." + +"But is all this authentic?" asked the Canon, completely stupefied. + +"Absolutely authentic." + +The Canon made a gesture of resignation and looked at Don Calixto in +astonishment. + +While Caesar was telling the story, the carriage had passed down a +narrow and rather deserted street, called Borgo Vecchio, in whose +windows clothes were hanging out to dry, and then they came out in +the Piazza di San Pietro. They drove around one edge of this enormous +square. The sky was blue. A fountain was throwing water, which changed +to a cloud in the air and produced a brilliant rainbow. + +"One certainly wonders," said Caesar, "if Saint Peter's is not one of +the buildings in the worst taste that exist in the world." + +They got out in front of the steps. + +"Your friend is probably well up on archeological matters?" asked +Caesar. + +"Who? Don Justo? Not in the least." + +Caesar began to laugh, went up the steps ahead of the others, lifted the +leather curtain, and they all three went into Saint Peter's. _THERE IS +NO PERFORMANCE_ + +Caesar began his explanations with the plan of the church. The Canon +passed his hand over all the stones and kept saying: + +"This is marble too," and adding, "How expensive!" + +"Do you like this, Don Calixto?" Caesar asked. + +"What a question, man!" + +"Well, it is obviously very rich and very sumptuous, but it must give a +fanatic coming here from far away the same feeling a person gets when +he has a cold and asks for a hot drink and is given a glass of iced +orgeat." + +"Don't let Don Justo hear you," said Don Calixto, as if they ought to +keep the secret about the orgeat between the two of them. + +They came to the statue of Saint Peter, and Caesar told them it is the +custom for strangers to kiss its foot. The Canon piously did so, but +Don Calixto, who was somewhat uneasy, rubbed the statue's worn foot +surreptitiously with his handkerchief and then kissed it. + +Caesar abstained from kissing it, because he said the kiss was +efficacious principally for strangers. + +Then they went along, looking at the tombs of the Popes. Caesar was +several times mistaken in his explanations, but his friends did not +notice his mistakes. + +The thing that surprised the Canon most was the tomb of Alexander +VII, because there is a skeleton on it. Don Calixto stopped with most +curiosity before the tomb of Paul III, on which one sees two nude women. +Caesar told them that popular legend claims that one of these statues, +the one representing Justice, is Julia Farnese, sister of Pope Paul +III, and mistress of Pope Alexander VI; but such a supposition seems +unlikely. + +"Entirely," insisted the Canon gravely; "those are things invented by +the Free Thinkers." + +Don Calixto allowed himself to say that most of the Popes looked like +drum-majors. + +Don Justo continued appraising everything he saw like a contractor. +Caesar devoted himself to retailing his observations to Don Calixto, +while the Canon walked alone. + +"I will inform you," he told him, "that on Saturday one may go up in +the dome, but only decently dressed people. So a placard on that door +informs us. If by any chance an apostle should re-arise and have a +fancy to do a little gymnastics and see Rome from a height, as he would +probably be dirty and badly dressed, he would get left, they wouldn't +let him go up. And then he could say: 'Invent a religion like the +Christian religion, so that after a while they won't let you go up in +the dome.'" + +"Yes, certainly, certainly," replied Don Calixto. "They are absurd. But +do not let the Canon hear you. To be sure, all this does not look very +religious, but it is magnificent." + +"Yes, it is a beautiful stage-setting, but there is no performance," +said Caesar. + +"What do you mean by that?" asked Don Calixto. + +"That this is an empty place. It would have been well to build a temple +as large and light as this in honour of Science, which is humanity's +great creation. These statues, instead of being stupid or warlike Popes, +ought to be the inventor of vaccination or of chloroform. Then one could +understand the chilliness and the fairly menacing air that everything in +the place wears. Let people have confidence in the truth and in work, +that is good; but that a religion founded on mysteries, on obscurities, +should build a bright, challenging, flippant temple, is ridiculous." + +"Yes, yes," said Don Calixto, always preoccupied in keeping the Canon +from hearing, "you talk like a modern man. I myself, down in my heart, +you know.... I believe you follow me, eh?" + +"Yes, man." + +"Well, I think that all this has no transcendency.... That is to say...." + +"No, it has none. You may well say so, Don Calixto." + +"But it did have it. That cannot be doubted, can it? And a great deal. +This is undeniable." + + + +_IT IS A MAGNIFICENT BUSINESS CONCERN_ + +"It was really a magnificent business concern," said Caesar. "Think +of monopolizing heaven and hell, selling the shares here on earth and +paying the dividends in heaven! There's no guarantee trust company or +pawn-broker that pays an interest like that. And at its height, how many +branches it developed! Here, in this square, I have a friend, a Jewish +dealer in rosaries, who tells me his trade is flourishing. In three +weeks he has sold a hundred and fifty kilos of rosaries blessed by the +Pope, two hundred kilos of medals, and about half a square kilometre of +scapulars." + +"What an exaggeration!" said Don Calixto. + +"No, it is the truth. He is glad that these things, which he considers +accursed, sell, because after all, he is a liberal and a Jew; the only +thing he does, if he can, to ease his conscience, is to get ten per +cent. profit on everything, and he says to himself: 'Let the Catholics +worry!'" + +"What tales! If the Canon should hear you!" + +"No, but all this is true. As my friend says: Business is business. And +he has made me take notice that when the Garibaldini come here, they +spend the price of a few bottles of Chianti, and then they sleep in any +dog-kennel, and spend nothing more. On the contrary, the rich Catholics +buy and buy ... and off go his kilos of rosaries and of medals, his tons +of veils for visiting the Pope, his reams of indulgences for eating +meat, and for eating fish and meat, and even for blowing your nose on +pages of the Bible if you like." + +"Do not be so disrespectful." + +When the Canon had made sure of all the square metres of marble there +are in Saint Peter's they went out into the square again. Caesar +indicated the heap of irregular edifices that form the Vatican. + +"That ought to be the Pope's room," said Caesar, pointing to a window, +at random. "You must have been there, Don Calixto?" "I don't know. +Really," he said, "I haven't much idea where I was." + +"Nor has he any idea how he went," thought Caesar, and added: "That is +the Library; over there is the Secretary of State's apartment; there is +where the Holy Office meets"; and he said whatsoever occurred to him, +perfectly tranquilly. + +They took their carriage, and as they passed a shop for objects of +religion, Don Calixto said to the Canon: + +"What do you say to this, Don Justo? According to Don Caesar, the +proprietors of the shops where they sell medals, are Jews." + +"Bah! that cannot be so," replied the Canon roundly. + +"Why not?" + +"Bah!" + +"Why should it shock you?" exclaimed Caesar. "If they sold Jesus Christ +alive, why are they not to sell him dead?" + +"Well, I am glad to know it," Don Justo burst forth, "because I was +going to buy some medals for presents, and now I won't buy them." + +Don Calixto smiled, and Caesar understood that the good Canon was taking +advantage of the information to save a penny. + + + + +XXI + +DON CALIXTO IN THE CATACOMBS + + +Don Calixto and the Canon were very anxious to visit the Catacombs. +Caesar knew that the visit is not entirely agreeable, and attempted to +dissuade them from their intention. + +"I don't know whether you gentlemen know that one has to spend the +entire day there." + +"Without lunch?" asked the Canon. + +"Yes." + +"Oh, no; that is impossible." + +"One has to sacrifice oneself for the sake of Christianity," said +Caesar. + +"You haven't much desire to sacrifice yourself," retorted Don Calixto. + +"Because I believe it is damp and unwholesome down there, and a +Christian bronchitis would not be wholly pleasant, despite its religious +origin. And besides, as you already know, one must go without food." + +"We might eat something there," said Don Justo. + +"Eat there!" exclaimed Caesar. "Eat a slice of ham, in front of the +niches of the Catacombs! It would make me sick." + +"It wouldn't me," replied the Canon. + +"In front of the tombs of martyrs and saints!" + +"Even if they were saints, they ate too," replied the Canon, with his +excellent good sense. + +Caesar had to agree that even if they were saints, they ate. + +There was a French family at the hotel who were also thinking of going +to see the Catacombs, and Don Calixto and Don Justo decided to go the +same day with them. The French family consisted of a Breton gentleman, +tall and whiskered, who had been at sea; his wife, who looked like a +village woman; and the daughter, a slender, pale, sad young lady. They +had with them, half governess, half maid, a lean peasant-woman with a +suspicious air. + +The young lady confessed to Caesar that she had been dreaming of the +Catacombs for a long while. She knew the description Chateaubriand gives +of them in _Les Martyres_ by heart. + +The next day the French family in one landau, and Don Calixto with the +Canon and Caesar in another, went to see the Catacombs. + +The French family had brought a fat, smiling abb as cicerone. + +Five persons couldn't get inside the landau, and the Breton gentleman +had to sit by the driver. Don Calixto offered him a seat in his +carriage, but the Breton, who must have been obstinate as a mule, said +no, that from the driver's seat he enjoyed more of the panorama. + +They halted a moment, on the abb's advice, at the Baths of Caracalla, +and went through them. The cicerone explained where the different +bathing-rooms had been and the size of the pools. Those cyclopean +buildings, those high, high arches, those enormous walls, left Caesar +overcome. + +One couldn't understand a thing like this except in a town which had a +mania for the gigantic, the titanic. + +They left the baths and started along. They followed the Via di Porta +San Sebastiano, between two walls. They left behind the imposing ruins +of the Baths of Caracalla and various establishments for archeological +reconstructions, and the carriage stopped at the gate of the Catacombs. + +They went in, guided by the abb, and arrived at a sort of office. + +They each paid a lira for a taper which a friar was handing out, and +they joined a group of other people, without quite knowing what they +expected next. In the group there were two German Dominicans, a tall one +whose fiery red beard hung to his waist, and a slim one, with a nose +like a knife. + + +_IRREVERENT CICERONE_ + +It was not long before another numerous group of tourists came out of a +hole in the floor, and among them was a Trappist brother who came over +to where Don Calixto and Caesar were. The Trappist carried a stick, +and a taper twisted in the end of the stick. He asked if everybody +understood French; any one that didn't could wait for another group. + +"I don't understand it," said the Canon. + +"I will translate what he says, to you," replied Caesar. + +"All right," answered the Canon. + +"_En avant, messieurs_," said the Trappist, lighting his taper, and +requesting them all to do the same. + +They went around giving one another a light, and with their little +candles aflame they began to descend into the Catacombs. + +They went in by a gallery as narrow as one in a mine, which once in a +while broadened into bigger spaces. + +In certain spots there were openings in the roof. + +Caesar had never thought about what the celebrated Catacombs would be +like, but he had not expected them so poor and so sinister. + +The sensation they caused was disagreeable, a sensation of choking, of +suffocation, without one's really getting any impression of grandeur. +The place seemed like an abandoned ant-hill. The wide spaces that opened +out at the sides of the passage were chapels, the monk said. + +The Trappist cicerone contributed to removing any serious feelings with +his chatter and his jokes. Being familiar with these tombs, he had lost +respect for them, as sacristans lose it for the saints they brush the +dust off of with a feather-duster. Moreover, he judged everything by an +esthetic criterion, completely devoid of respect; for him there were +only sepulchres with artistic character, or without it; of a good or +a poor period; and the latter sort he struck contemptuously with his +stick. + +The marine Breton was irritated, and asked Caesar several times: + +"Why is that permitted?" "I don't know," answered Caesar. + +The monk made extraordinary remarks. + +Explaining the life of the Christians in the earliest eras of +Christianity, he said: + +"In this century the habits of the pontiffs were so lax that the +Pope had to go out accompanied by two persons to insure his modest +behaviour." + +"Oh, oh!" said a young Frenchman, in a tone of vexation. + +_"Ah! C'est L'histoire,"_ replied the monk. + +Caesar translated what the Trappist had said, to Don Calixto and the +Canon, and they were both really perplexed. + +They followed the long, narrow galleries. It was a strange effect, +seeing the procession of tourists with their burning candles. One didn't +notice the modern clothes and the ladies' hats, and from a distance the +procession lighted by the little flames of the candles, had a mysterious +look. + +At the tail of the crowd walked two men who spoke English. One was a +"gentleman" little versed in archeological questions; the other a tall +person with the face of a scholar. Caesar drew near them to listen. The +one was explaining to his companion everything they saw as they went +along, the signification of the emblems cut in the tablets, and the +funerary customs of the Christians. + +"Didn't they put crosses?" asked the unlearned gentleman. + +"No," said the other. "It is said that for the Romans the _crux_ +represented the gallows! Thus the earliest representation of the +Crucified is a drawing in the Kirchnerian museum, which shows a +Christian kneeling before a man with a donkey's head, who is nailed to a +cross. In Greek letters one reads: 'Alexamenes adores his God.' They say +this drawing comes from the Palace of the Caesars, and it is considered +to be a caricature of Christ, drawn by a Roman soldier on a wall." + +"Didn't they put up images of Christ, either?" + +"No. You do not consider that they were at the height of the discussion +as to whether Christ was ugly or beautiful." + +The tall gentleman got involved in a long dissertation as to what +motives they had had, some to insist that Christ's person was of great +beauty, others to affirm that it was of terrible ugliness. + +Caesar would have liked to go on listening to what this gentleman said, +but Don Justo joined him. The Trappist was in front of two mummies, +explaining something, and he wanted Caesar to translate what he was +saying. + +Caesar did this bit of interpreting for him. The candles were beginning +to burn out and it was necessary to leave. + +The cicerone took them rapidly along a gallery at whose end there was a +stairway, and they issued into the sunlight. The monk extinguished the +taper on his stick, and began crying: + +"Now, gentlemen, do you want any scapulars, medals, chocolate?" + +Caesar looked over his companions in the expedition. The Canon +was indifferent. The old maritime Breton showed signs of profound +indignation, and his daughter, the little French mystic, had tears in +her eyes. + +"That poor little French girl, who arrived here so full of enthusiasm, +has come out of these Catacombs like a rat out of a sewer," said Caesar. + +"And why so?" asked Don Calixto. + +"Because of the things the monk said. He was really scandalous." + +"It is true," said the Canon gravely. "I never would have believed it." + +_"Roma veduta, fede perduta,"_ said Don Calixto. "And as for you, +Caesar, hasn't this visit interested you?" + +"Yes, I have been interested in trying to keep from catching cold." + + +AGRO ROMANO + +The landau that the Breton family was in took the Appian, Way, and +Caesar and Don Calixto's carriage followed behind it. + +They passed the tomb of Cecilia Metella, and were able to look ahead +along the old road, on whose sides one sees the remains of aqueducts, +which at evening-fall have a grandeur so imposing. Don Calixto and Don +Justo were discussing a question of home politics. + +On them magnificently indifferent, the broken sepulchres, the abandoned +arches invaded by grass, the vestiges of a gigantic civilization, did +not produce the least impression. + +The coachman pointed out Frascati on the slope of a mountain, Albano, +Grotta Ferrata, and Tivoli. + +Caesar felt the grandeur of the landscape; the enormous sadness of the +remnants of aqueducts, which had the colour of rusty iron, beneath a sky +of pink clouds. + +At dusk they turned back. Caesar felt a weight on his spirits. The +walls of the Baths of Caracalla looked threatening to him. Those great +towering thick walls, broken, brick-colour, burned by the sun, gave +him an impression of the strength of the past. There were no trees, no +houses near them; as if those imposing ruins precluded any life round +about. Only one humble almond-tree held out its white flowers. + +Don Calixto and the Canon continued chatting. + + + + +XXII + +SENTIMENTALITY AND ARCHEOLOGY + + +Don Calixto and the Canon went away to Spain. Caesar thought he was +wasting time in Rome and that he ought to get out, but he remained. He +kept wondering why Susanna Marchmont had left and never written him. + +Twice he asked about her at the Hotel Excelsior, and was told that she +had not returned. + +One evening at the beginning of May, when he had managed to decide to +pack up and go, he received a card from Susanna, telling him of her +arrival and inviting him to have tea at the _Ristorante del Castello dei +Cesari._ + +Caesar immediately left the hotel and took a cab, which carried him to +the top of the Aventine Hill. + +He got out at the entrance to the garden of the _Ristorante_, went +across it, and out on a large terrace. + +There were a number of Americans having tea, and in one group of them +was Susanna. + +"How late you come!" she said. + +"I have just received your card. And what did you do in Corfu? How did +things go down there?" + +"Very well indeed. It is all wonderful. And I have been in Epirus and +Albania, too." + +Susanna related her impressions of those countries, with many details, +which, surely, she had read in Baedeker. + +She was very smart, and prettier than ever. She said her husband must be +in London; she had had no news from him for more than a month. "And how +did you know I was still here?" Caesar asked her. + +"Through Kennedy. He wrote to me. He is a good friend. He talked a lot +about you in his letters." + +Caesar thought he noticed that Susanna talked with more enthusiasm than +ordinarily. Perhaps distance had produced a similar effect on her +to what wondering about her had on him. Caesar looked at her almost +passionately. + +From the terrace one could see the tragic ruins of the Palace of the +Caesars; broken arcades covered with grass, remains of walls still +standing, the openings of arches and windows, and here and there a +pointed cypress or a stone pine among the great devastated walls. + +Far away one could see the country, Frascati, and the blue mountains of +the distance. + +As it was already late, the group of Susanna's American friends decided +to return by carriage. + +"I am going to walk," said Susanna in a low tone. "Would you like to +come with me?" + +"With great pleasure." + +They took leave of the others, went down the garden road, which was +decorated on both sides with ancient statues and tablets, and issued on +the Via di Santa Prisca, a street between two dark walls, with a lamp +every once in a while. + +"What a sky!" she exclaimed. + +"It is splendid." + +It was of a blue with the lustre of mother-of-pearl; in the zenith a +stray star was imperceptibly shining; to the west floated golden and red +clouds. + +They went down the steep street, alongside a garden wall. In some +places, bunches of century plants showed their hard spikes, sharp as +daggers, over the low walls. + +There was a great silence in this coming of night. Among the foliage of +the trees they heard the piping of sparrows. From far away there came, +from time to time, the puffing of a train. + + +_DESOLATION_ + +They walked without speaking, mastered by the melancholy of their +surroundings. Now and again, a peasant, tanned by the sun, with his +little sack full of grass, came home from the fields, singing. + +Caesar and Susanna passed alongside of the Jewish cemetery, and stopped +to look in through a grill. The wall hid the burning zone of twilight; a +greenish blue reigned in the zenith. + +They went on again. A bell began to ring. + +Caesar was depressed. Susanna was silent. + +They crossed a street of new, dark houses; they passed by a little +square with a melancholy church. The street they took was named for +Saint Theodore. To the left, down the Via del Velabro, they saw an arch +with many niches on the sides of the single opening. + +A band of black seminarians passed. + +"Poor creatures!" murmured Caesar. + +"Are you very sympathetic?" said Susanna, mockingly. + +"Yes, those chaps rouse my pity." + +Now, on the right, the furious ruins of the Palatine were piled up: +brick walls, ruined arches, decrepit partitions, and above, the terrace +of a garden with a balustrade. Over the terrace, against the sky, were +the silhouettes of high cypresses almost black, of ilexes with their +dense foliage, and a large palm with arching leaves. + +From these so tragic ruins there seemed to exhale a great desolation, +beneath the deep, green sky. + +Susanna and Caesar drew near the Forum. + +In the opaque light of dusk the Forum had the air of a cemetery. Two +lighted windows were shining in the high dark wall of the Tabularium, +and sharp-toned bells were beginning to ring. + +They went up the stairway that leads to the Capitol, and on a little +terrace they stopped to look at the Forum. + +"What terrible desolation!" exclaimed Susanna. + +"All the stones look like tombs," said Caesar. "Yes, that is true," + +"What are those three high open vaults that give so strange an +impression of immense size?" asked Caesar. + +"That is what remains of Constantine's basilica." + +For a long while they gazed at that abandoned space, with its melancholy +columns and white stones. + +In a street running into the Forum, there began to shine two rows of +gaslights of a greenish colour. + +As they passed down the slope leading to the Capitol, in a little street +to the left, the Via Monte Tarpea, they saw a funeral procession ready +to start. At that moment the corpse was being brought into the street. +Several women in black were waiting by the house door with lighted +candles. + +The priest, in his white surplice and holding up his cross, gave the +order to start, and pushed to the front of the crowd; four men raised +the bier and took it on their shoulders, and the procession of women in +black, men, and children, followed behind. Bells with sharp voices began +again to sound in the air. + +"Oh, isn't it sad!" said Susanna, lifting her hand to her breast. + +They watched how the procession moved away, and then Caesar murmured, +ill-humouredly: + +"It is stupid." + +"What?" asked Susanna. + +"I say that it's stupid to take pleasure in feeling miserable. What we +are doing is absurd and unhealthy." + +Susanna burst into laughter, and when she said good-night to Caesar she +squeezed his hand energetically. + + + + +XXIII + +THE 'SCUTCHEON OF A CHURCH + + +"Susanna Marchmont," Caesar wrote to his friend Alzugaray, "is a +beautiful woman, rich, and apparently intelligent. She has given me to +understand that she feels a certain inclination for me, and if I please +her well enough, she will get a divorce and marry me. + +"I have discovered the reasons for her inclination, first in a desire to +revenge herself on her husband by marrying the brother of the woman he +has fallen in love with; secondly, in my not having made love to her, +like the majority of the men she has known. + +"Really, Susanna is a beautiful woman; but whereas other women gain +by being looked at and listened to, with her it is not so. In this +beautiful woman there is something cold, utilitarian, which she does not +succeed in hiding by her artistic effusions. Besides she has a great +deal of vanity, but stupid vanity. She has asked me if I couldn't manage +to acquire a high-sounding, decorative title in Spain. + +"If Susanna knew that in my heart I keep up her friendship only through +inertia, because I have no plans, and that her millions and her beauty +leave me cold, she would be dumfounded; I believe that perhaps she +would admire me. + +"At present we devote ourselves to walking, talking, and telling each +other our impressions. Any one would say that we intentionally play a +game of being contrary; whatsoever she finds wonderful seems worthy +of contempt to me, and vice-versa. It is strange that such absolute +disagreement can exist. This Sunday afternoon we have been taking a +long walk, half sentimental, half archeological. + +"I went to get her at her hotel; she came down, looking very smart, with +an unmarried friend, also an American and also very chic. + +"The three of us walked toward the Forum. We passed under the arch of +Constantine. A small beggar-boy preceded us, getting ahead and turning +hand-springs. I gave him some pennies. Susanna laughed. This woman, who +pays bills of thousands of pesetas to her milliner, doesn't like to give +a copper to a ragamuffin. + +"We turned off a bit from the avenue and went up on the right, toward +the Palatine. Among the ruins some women were pulling up plants and +putting them into sacks. At the end of the road, on the slope, there +were Stations of the Cross, and some boys from a school were playing, +guarded by priests with white rabbits. + +"It was impossible to go further, and we went down the hill toward the +Piazza di San Gregorio. On the open place in front of the church that is +in this square, some vagabonds were stretched out on the ground; an old +man with a long hoary beard and a pipe with a chain, two dark youths +with shocks of black hair, and a red-headed woman with silver hoops in +her ears and a baby in her arms. + +"The two young boys threw me a glance of hatred, and stared at Susanna +and her friend with extraordinary avidity. + +"What very false ideas must have been going through their minds! I might +have approached them and said politely: + +"'Do not imagine that these ladies are of different stuff from this red +woman who has the baby in her arms. They are all the same. There is no +more difference than what is caused by a little soap and some money.' + +"'Let us go in and see the church,' said Susanna. + +"'Good. Come along.' + +"The church has a flight of stone steps and two cypresses to one side. + +"We went into a court with graves in it, and stayed there a while, +reading the names of the people buried in them. Susanna's friend is a +sort of little devil with the instincts of a small boy, and she went +springing about in all the corners. + +"When we came out of the church we found the square, deserted before, +now full of people. During the time we had stayed inside, a numerous +group of tourists had formed a circle, and a gentleman was explaining in +English what the Via Appia used to be. + +"'These are the things that please you,' Susanna said to me, laughing. + +"I answered with a joke. The truth is that no matter how many +explanations I am given, an ancient Roman always seems a cardboard +figure to me, or at most a marble figure. It is not possible to imagine +how bored I used to be reading _Les Martyres_ of Chateaubriand and that +famous _Quo Vadis_. + +"From the Piazza di San Gregorio we took a steep street, the 'Via di +Santi Giovanni e Paolo,' which passes under an arch with several brick +buttresses. + +"We came out in a little square, in an angle of which there is an +ancient arcaded tower, which has tiles set into the walls, some round +and others the shape of a Greek cross. + +"The modern portico of the church has columns and a grated door, which +we found open. Over the door is a picture of Saint John and Saint Paul; +on the sides of it two shields with the mitre and the keys. On one, set +round about, are the Latin words: _Omnium rerum est vicisitudo;_ on the +other is written in Spanish: _Mi corazn arde en mucha llama._ + +"'Is it Spanish?' Susanna asked me. + +"'Yes.' + +"'What does it mean?' + +"I translated the phrase into English: 'My heart burns with a great +flame'; and Susanna repeated it several times, and begged me to write it +in her card-case. + +"Her friend skimmed some pages in Baedeker and said: + +"'It seems that the house of two saints martyred by Julian the Apostate +is preserved here.' + +"I assured them that that was an error. I happen to have been reading +just a few days ago a book about Julian the Apostate, and it turns out +that that Emperor was an admirable man, good, generous, brave, full of +virtues; but the Christians had reason for calumniating him and they +calumniated him. All Julian's persecutions of Christians are logical +repressions of people that were disturbing public order, and the phrase, +Vencisti, Galileo, is a pious fraud. Julian was a philosopher, he +loved science, hygiene, cleanliness, peace, in a world of hysterical +worshipers of corpses, who wanted to live in ignorance, filth, and +prayer. + +"But Christianity, always a religion of hallucinated persons, of +mystifiers, has never vacillated in singing the praises of parricides +like Constantine, and in calumniating the memory of great men like +Julian. + +"Susanna and her friend considered that the question of whether Julian +has been calumniated by history, or not, was of no importance. + +"The truth is that I feel the same way. + +"From the Via di Santi Giovanni e Paolo we came out into a small square +by a church, which has a little marble ship in front of its porch. We +saw that his street is named after the _Navicella._" + + +A ROYAL IDYLL + +"By the side of the church of the Navicella, we passed the Villa Mattei, +and Susanna wished to go in. What a beautiful property! What splendid +terraces those in that garden are! What laurels! What lemon-trees! What +old statues! What heavy shade of pines and live-oaks! + +"Kennedy, who has an admirable knowledge of every corner of Rome, has +told me that at the beginning of the XIX Century the Villa Mattei was +the property of Godoy. King Charles IV and his wife were in Rome, living +in the Barberini Palace, and they spent their days in the seclusion of +the Villa Mattei; and while the favourite and the Queen, who had now +become a harpy, walked in those poetical avenues, bordered with box +and laurel, the good Bourbon, now an old man, walked behind them, his +forehead ornamented like a faun's, enchanted to watch them; I don't know +whether he was playing the flute. + +"Susanna's friend laughed at the thought of the good Charles IV, with +his waistcoat and his long coat, and his satyr's excrescences, and his +rural flute; but the allusion did not find favour with Susanna, whether +because she thought of her husband's infidelities, or because she +considered, that if her father gets to be the shoe-king, she will then +have a certain spiritual relationship to the Bourbons. In the Villa +Mattei we saw an _ediculo_, which rises at the edge of a terrace, amidst +climbing plants. There, as an inscription says, Saint Philip Neri talked +to his disciples of things divine. From the terrace one can see the +Baths of Caracalla, and part of the Roman Campagna behind them. + +"We came out of the Villa Mattei and left the Piazza, della Navicella +and came down through a place where there is a wall with arches, under +which some beggars have built huts out of gasoline cans. There is an +eating-place thereabouts called the Osteria di Porta Metronia. + +"Susanna's friend consulted her book, and the result was that we found +we were in the Vale of Egeria. + +"From there we came out by a narrow road running along a wall, not a +very high one, over which green laurel branches projected. We saw an +obelisk at the end of the road, and the entablature of Saint John the +Lateran. The group of statues, reddish brown, silhouetted against the +sky, made a very strange effect. + +"We started to go down by the Via di San Sisto Vecchio, which also runs +along by a wall. At the bottom of the slope there is a mill, with a deep +race. Susanna's friend said she would enjoy bathing there. + +"We came out, at nightfall, almost opposite the Baths of Caracalla. + +"'They ought to knock these ruins down altogether,' I said. + +"'Why so?' asked Susanna. + +"'Because they appear to be standing here to demonstrate the uselessness +of human energy.' Susanna was very little interested as to whether +human energy is useful or useless. + +"I am, because my own energy forms a part of human energy, and for no +other reason. + +"We came back past the Forum, but today we did not come upon any +funerals. To demand that somebody should die every day and his corpse be +carried out at twilight to feed tourists' emotions, would, I think, be +demanding too much. + +"When we reached her hotel, Susanna let her friend go up first; and as +soon as we were alone, she looked at me expressively, placing one hand +on her breast, and said to me, in nasal Spanish: + +"_'Mi corazn arde en mucha llama.'_ + +"I don't believe it." + + + + +XXIV + +TOURIST INTERLUDE + +TRAVELLING + + +"Susanna said to me: 'I have some inclination for you, but I don't know +you well enough. If you feel the same way, come with me. Let us travel +together? I am with her, and nevertheless I am convinced that what I am +doing is a piece of stupidity. + +"We spent this Sunday morning in the train. In the country we saw men at +work with great oxen that had long twisted horns. In a swampy field some +labourers were draining the ground with great effort. From the train we +saw the island of Elba, and Capraia, and the sea as blue as indigo. + +"'Mare nostro,'_ said an elegant gentleman in a fluty voice, and +pointed out something on the horizon which he said was Corsica, and he +said that it can be seen from far away. + +"While all we useless, unoccupied persons gathered in the dining-car, +the people in the fields kept on working, bent over in the mud, draining +the marshes. + +"'What a lot of effort those poor devils have to make to keep us alive.' +I said. + +"'We are not kept alive by them,' retorted Susanna. + +"'No, we live off of other slaves, who work for us,' I answered her. +'Those out there serve to feed the officers, the effeminate priestlings, +all the people that take part in the theatrical performance of the +Vatican. Those unfortunates help to uphold the eight basilicas and the +three hundred odd churches of Rome.' + +"Susanna shrugged her shoulders and smiled." + + +CLOSE TO + +"Travelling with a woman one does not love, no matter how very pretty +she is, produces a series of disenchantments. It seems as if one kept +seeking defects and analysing them under the microscope. During these +days that I have been accompanying Susanna, I have discovered a lot of +physical and moral imperfections in her. There are moments in which she +cannot conceal an egoism and brutality which are truly disagreeable; and +besides, she is tyrannical, vain, and tries always to have her own way. + +"We have been at Siena, which is a kind of Toledo, made up of narrow +lanes. It was very hot. We were bored, especially she who has no +artistic feeling. + +"We have spent two days in Florence, a night in Bologna, another night +at Milan, and after vacillating as to whether it would be better to go +to Lake Como or to Switzerland, we have come to Geneva to spend a few +days. + +"Travelling like this in limited trains, one finds travelling more +insipid than in any other fashion. All the sleeping-cars are alike, all +the people alike, all the hotels alike. Really it is Stupid. + +"It is still more stupid travelling with a woman who attracts attention +wherever she goes. She attracts attention, that is all; she doesn't +awaken any liking. She cannot comprehend why, being a beautiful and +distinguished woman, she has nobody who cares for her disinterestedly. +She notices that all the smart young men who aim for her are simply +coming to the beautiful rich woman. + +"And she thinks they ought to be in ecstasies over her wit and over the +repertory of ready-made phrases she keeps for conversation." + + +A TIRESOME HOTEL + +"In this immense, luxurious hotel, situated two thousand odd metres +above sea-level, as the announcement-cards stuck everywhere say, more +than a hundred of us gather in the dining-room at lunch-time. The +greatest coolness, the most frozen composure reigns among us. + +"It is obvious that, thus harboured and united by chance in this hotel, +we disturb one another; a wall of prejudices and conventionalities +separates us. The English old maids read their romantic novels; the +German families talk among themselves; some Russian or other drinks +champagne while he stares with vague and inexpressive eyes; and +some swarthy man from a sultry country appears to be crushed by the +lugubrious silence. + +"Through the windows one can see Lake Leman, closed in near here by +mountains, blue like a great turquoise, ploughed by white, triangular +sails. From time to time one hears the strident noise of a steamboat's +siren and the murmur of the funicular train." + + +A MODEST FAMILY + +"To this ostentatious hotel a family of modest air came two days ago. +It was a family made up of five persons; two ladies, one of them plain, +thin, spectacled, the other plumper and short; a merry girl, smiling +and rosy, and a melancholy little girl, with a waxen face. They were +accompanied by a man with a distinguished, weary manner. + +"They are all in mourning. They are English; they treat one another with +an attractive affability. The short lady, mother of the two girls, was +pressing the man's hand and caressing it, during lunch the first day. He +kept smiling in a gentle, tired way. No doubt he was unable to stay here +long, for he did not appear that evening, and the four females were +alone in the dining-room. + +"The two ladies and the fresh, blooming girl are much preoccupied about +the pale little girl, so much so that they do not notice the interest +they arouse among the guests. All the old 'misses,' loaded with jewels, +watch the family in mourning, as if they were wondering: 'How come they +here, if their position is not so good as ours? How dare they mix among +us, not being in our class?' + +"And it is a fact; they cannot be; there is something that shows that +this family is not rich. Besides, and this is extraordinary enough, it +seems that they haven't come here to look down on others, or to give +themselves airs, but to take walks and to look at the immaculate peaks +of Mont Blanc. So one sees the two girls going out into the country +without making an elaborate toilet, carrying a book or an orange in +their hands, and coming back with bunches of flowers...." + +_TRAGEDY IN A HOTEL ROOM_ + +"This morning at lunch only one of the ladies appeared in the +dining-room. + +"'Perhaps the others have gone off on some picnic,' thought I. + +"In the evening at dinner, the tall woman with the glasses and the +larger of the two girls were at table. They didn't eat, and disquietude +was painted on their faces; the girl had flushed cheeks and swollen +eyes. + +"'What can be happening to them?' I asked myself. + +"At that juncture, in came the short lady, with two vials of medicine +in her hand, and put them on the table. By what I could hear of the +conversation, she had just come from Lausanne, where she had gone for +the doctor. The melancholy little girl, the one with the waxen face, +must be ill. + +"No doubt the family have come to Switzerland for the sake of the child, +who is probably delicate, and have made a sacrifice to do so. That +explains their modest air, and the rapid departure of the man who +brought them. + +"The three women gazed sadly at one another. What can the poor child +have? I remember nothing about her, except her hair parted in the +middle, and the pallid colour of her bloodless skin, and nevertheless it +makes me sad to think that she is sick. + +"I should like to offer myself to these women at this crisis; I should +like to say to them: 'I am a humble person, without money; but if I +could be useful to you in any way, I would do it with all my heart; and +that is more than I would do for this gang covered with brilliants.' + +"The German who eats at the next table to the family understands what is +happening, and he leaves off eating to look at them, and then looks at +me with his blue eyes. At last he shrugs his shoulders, lowers his head, +and empties a glass of wine at one gulp. + +"The three women rise and go to their rooms. One hears them coming and +going in the corridor; then a waiter takes their dinner upstairs. + +"And while the family are desolate up there, down here in the 'hall' the +'misses' keep on looking at one another contemptuously, exhibiting rings +that sparkle on their fingers, and which would keep hundreds of people +alive; and while they are weeping upstairs, down here a blond Yankee +woman, with a large blue hat, a friend of Susanna's, who flirts with a +youth from Chicago, is laughing heartily, showing a set of white teeth +in which there shines a chip of gold." + +_SUSANNA DOES NOT UNDERSTAND_ + +"I have spoken to Susanna about the poor English girl, who, they say, is +dying; and she has bidden me not to tell her sad things. She cannot bear +other people's suffering. She says she is more sensitive than others. +How very comical! + +"This fine lady, who thinks herself so witty and so sensitive, has +an inner skin like a hippopotamus; she is covered with a magnificent +egoism, which must be at least of galvanized steel. Her armour protects +her against the action of other people's miseries and pains. + +"This woman, so beautiful, is of a grotesque egotism; one understands +her husband's despising her. + +"I am leaving her with her millions and going away to Spain." + + + + + +PART TWO + + +CASTRO DURO + +I + +ARRIVAL + +_CAESAR IN ACTION_ + + +During the night Caesar Moncada and Alzugaray chatted in the train. +Alzugaray was praising this first Quixotic sally of his friend's. + +"We are going to cross the Rubicon, Caesar," he said, as he got into the +train. + +"We shall see." + +Many times Alzugaray had heard Caesar explain his plans, but he had no +great confidence in their realization. Nor did this particular moment +seem to him opportune for beginning the campaign. Everybody believed +that the Liberal Ministry was stronger than ever; people were still away +for the summer; nothing was doing. + +Nevertheless, Caesar insisted that the crisis was imminent, and that it +was the precise moment for him to enter politics. With this object he +was taking a letter from Alarcos, the leader of the Conservatives, to +Don Calixto Garca Guerrero. + +"Your Don Calixto will be at San Sebastian or at some water-cure," said +Alzugaray, taking his seat in the train. + +"It's all the same to me. I intend to follow him until I find him," +answered Caesar. + +"And you are decided to run as a Conservative?" + +"Of course." + +"I hope you won't be sorry later." + +"Pshaw! Later one jumps into the position that suits one. On these first +rungs of political life, either you have to have great luck, or you have +to go like a grasshopper, first here, then there. That is the take-off, +and when you are there all the ambitious mediocrities unite against you +if you have any talent. Naturally, I do not intend to do anything to +exhibit mine. Spanish politics are like a pond; a strong, healthy stick +of wood goes to the bottom; a piece of bark or cork or a sheaf of straw +stays on the surface. One has to disguise oneself as a cork." + +"And later you will go on and make yourself known." + +"Naturally. Since I find myself in the vein for making comparisons, I +will say that in Spanish politics we have a case like those in the old +comedies of intrigue, where the lackeys pretend to be gentlemen. When I +am once among the gentlemen, I shall know how to prove that I am more a +master than the people surrounding me." + +"How conceited you are." + +"The confidence one feels in oneself," said Caesar ironically. + +"But have you really got it, or do you only pretend to have?" + +"What matter whether I have it or haven't it, if I behave as if I had +it?" + +"It matters a lot. It matters whether you are calm or not in the moment +of danger." + +"Calmness is the muse that inspires me. I haven't it in my thoughts, but +in active life you shall see me!" + +The two friends stretched themselves out in their first-class +compartment, and lay half asleep until dawn, when they got up again. + +The train was running rapidly across the flat country; the yellow +sunlight shone into the car; through the newly sowed fields rode men on +horseback. + +"These are not my dominions yet," said Caesar. + +"We have two more stations till Castro Duro," responded Alzugaray, +consulting the time-table. They took off their caps, put them into the +bag, Caesar put on a fresh collar, and they sat down by the window. + +"It is ugly enough, eh?" said Alzugaray. + +"Naturally," replied Caesar. "What do you want; that there should be +some of those green landscapes like in your country, which for my part +irritate me?" + + +THE CLASSIC STAGECOACH + + +They arrived at Castro Duro. In the station they saw groups of peasants. +The travellers with their baggage went out of the station. There were +two shabby coaches at the door. + +"Are you going to the Comercio?" asked one driver. + +"No, they are going to the Espaa," said the other. + +"Then you two know more than we do," answered Alzugaray, "because we +don't know where to go." + +"To the Comercio!" + +"To the Espaa!" + +"Whose coach is this one?" asked Caesar, pointing to the less dirty of +the two. + +"The Comercio's." + +"All right, then we are going to the Comercio." + +The coach, in spite of being the better of the two, was a rickety, +worn-out old omnibus, with its windows broken and spotted. It was drawn +by three skinny mules, full of galls. Caesar and Alzugaray got in and +waited. The coachman, with the whip around his neck, and a young man who +looked a bit like a seminarian, began to chat and smoke. + +At the end of five minutes' waiting, Caesar asked: + +"Well, aren't we going?" + +"In a moment, sir." + +The moment stretched itself out a good deal. A priest arrived, so fat +that he would have filled the vehicle all alone; then a woman from the +town with a basket, which she held on her knees; then the postman got in +with his bag; the driver closed the little window in the coach door, and +continued joking with the young man who looked a bit like a seminarian +and with one of the station men. + +"We are in a hurry," said Alzugaray. + +"We are going now, sir. All right. Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye!" answered the station man and the seminarian. + +The driver got up on his seat, cracked his whip, and the vehicle began +to move, with a noisy swaying and a trembling of all its wood and glass. +A very thick cloud of dust arose in the road. + +"Ya, ya, Coronela!" yelled the driver. "Why do you keep getting where +you oughtn't to get? Damn the mule! Montesina, I am going to give you a +couple of whacks. Get on there, Coronela! Get up, get up.... All right! +All right!... That's enough.... That's enough.... Let it alone, now! Let +it alone, now!" + +"What an amount of oratory that man is wasting," exclaimed Caesar; "he +must think that the mules are going to go better for the efforts of his +throat. It would be an advantage if he had stronger beasts, instead of +these dying ones." + +The other travellers paid no attention to his observation, and Alzugaray +said: + +"These drivers drip oratory." + +While the shabby coach was going along the highway which encircles +Castro hill, to the sound of the bells and the cracking of the whip, it +was possible to remain seated in the vehicle with comparative ease; but +on reaching the town's first steep, crooked, rough-cobbled street, the +swinging and tossing were such that the travellers kept falling one upon +another. + +The first street kept getting rapidly narrower, and as it grew narrower, +the crags in its paving were sharper and more prominent. At the highest +part of the street, in the middle, stood a two-wheeled cart blocking the +way. The coachman got down, from his seat and started a long discussion +with the carter, as to who was under obligations to make way. + +"What idiots!" exclaimed Caesar, irritated; then, calmer, he murmured, +addressing Alzugaray, "The truth is, these people don't care about doing +anything but talk." + +As the discussion between the coachman and the carter gave signs of +never ending, Caesar said: + +"Come along," and then, addressing the man with the bag, he asked him, +"Is it far from here to the inn?" + +"No; it is right here, in the house where the caf is." THE INN + + +Sure enough, the inn was only a step away. They went into the damp, dark +entrance, up the crooked stairs, and down the corridor to the kitchen. + +"Good morning, good morning!" they shouted. + +Nobody appeared. + +"Might it be on the second floor?" asked Alzugaray. + +"Let's go see." + +They went up to the next floor, entered by a gallery of red brick, which +was falling to pieces, and called several times. An old woman, from +inside a dark bedroom where she was sweeping, bade them go down to the +dining-room, where she would bring them breakfast. + +The dining-room had balconies toward the country, and was full of sun; +the bedrooms they were taken to, on the other hand, were dark, gloomy, +and cavernous. Alzugaray requested the old woman to show them the other +vacant chambers, and chose two on the second floor, which were lighter +and airier. + +The old woman told them she hadn't wanted to take them there, because +there was no paper on the walls. + +"No doubt, in Castro, the prospect of bed-bugs is an agreeable +prospect," said Caesar. + +After he had washed and dressed, Caesar started out to find and capture +Don Calixto, and Alzugaray went to take a stroll around the town. It was +agreed that they should each explore the region in his own way. + + + + +II + +CASTRO DURO + +THE MORNING + + +In these severe old Castilian towns there is one hour of ideal peace and +serenity. That is the early morning. The cocks are still crowing, the +sound of the church bells is scattered on the air, and the sun begins to +penetrate into the streets in gusts of light. The morning is a flood of +charity that falls upon the yellowish town. + +The sky is blue, the air limpid, pure, and diaphanous; the transparent +atmosphere scarcely admits effects of perspective, and its ethereal +mass makes the outlines of the houses, of the belfries, of the eaves, +vibrate. The cold breeze plays at the cross-streets, and amuses itself +by twisting the stems of the geraniums and pinks that flame on the +balconies. Everywhere there is an odour of cistus and of burning broom, +which comes from the ovens where the bread is baked, and an odour of +lavender that comes from the house entries. + +The town yawns and awakes; some priests pass, on their way to church; +pious women come out of their houses; and market men and women begin to +arrive from the villages nearby. The bells make that _tiln-taln_ so +sad, which seems confined to these dead towns. In the main street the +shops open; a boy hangs up the dresses, the sandals, the caps, on the +faade, reaching them up with a stick. Droves of mules are seen in front +of the grain-shops; some charcoal-burners go by, selling charcoal; and +peasant women lead, by their halters, little burros loaded with jars and +pans. + +One hears all the hawksters' cries, all the clatter characteristic of +that town. The milk-vendor, the honey-vendor, the chestnut-vendor, each +has his own traditional theme. The candlestick-maker produces a sonorous +peal from two copper candlesticks, the scissors-grinder whistles on his +flute.... + +Then, at midday, hawksters and peasants disappear, the sun shines +hotter, and the afternoon is tiresome and enervating. + + +FROM THE MIRADERO + + +Castro Duro is situated on a hill of red earth. + +One goes up to the town by a dusty highway, with the remains of little +trees which one Europeanizing mayor planted, and which all died; or else +by zigzag paths, up which saddle-animals and beasts of burden usually +go. + +From the plain Castro Duro stands out in silhouette against the sky, +between two high, many-sided edifices, one of a honey yellow, old and +respectable, the church; the other white, overgrown, modern, the prison. + +These two pillars of society are conspicuous from all sides, from +whatsoever point on the plain one looks at Castro Duro. + +The town was an old important city, and has, from afar, a seigniorial +air; from nearby, on the contrary, it presents that aspect of caked dust +which all the Castilian cities in ruin have; it is wide, spread out, +formed for the most part of lanes and little squares, with low crooked +houses that have blackish, warped roofs. + +From the promenade beside the church, which is called the Miradero, one +can see the great valley that surrounds Castro, a plain without an end, +flat and empty. At the foot of the hill that supports the city, a broad +river, which formerly kissed the old walls, marks a huge S with a sand +border. + +The water of the river covers the beach in winter, and leaves it half +uncovered in summer. At intervals on the river banks grow little groves +of poplar, which are mirrored on the tranquil surface of the water. A +very long bridge of more than twenty arches crosses from one shore to +the other. + +The hill that serves as pedestal for the historic city has very +different aspects; from one side it is seen terraced into steps, formed +of small parcels of land held up by rough stone walls. On these landings +there are thickets of vines and a few almond-trees, which grow even out +of the spaces between the stones. + +On another part of the hill, called the Trenches, the whole ground is +broken by great cuttings, which in other days were no doubt used for the +defence of the city. Near the trenches are to be seen the remains of +battlemented walls, tiles, and ruins of an ancient settlement, perhaps +destroyed by the waters of the river which in time undermined its +foundations. + +From the Miradero one sees the bridge below, as from a balloon, with +men, riding horses, and carts going over it, all diminished by the +distance. Women are washing clothes and spreading them in the sun, and +in the evening horses and herds of goats are drinking at the river +brink. + +The great plain, the immense flat land, contains cultivated fields, +square, oblong, varying in colour with the seasons, from the light green +of barley to the gold of wheat and the dirty yellow of stubble. Near the +river are truck-gardens and orchards of almonds and other fruit trees. + +In the afternoon, looking from the Miradero, from the height where +Castro stands, one feels overcome by this sea of earth, by the vast +horizon, and the profound silence. The cocks toss their metallic crowing +into the air; the clock-bells mark the hours with a sad, slow clang; and +at evening the river, brilliant in its two or three fiery curves, grows +pale and turns to blue. On clear days the sunset has extraordinary +magic. The entire town floats in a sea of gold. The Collegiate church +changes from yellow to lemon colour, and at times to orange; and there +are old walls which take on, in the evening light, the colour of bread +well browned in the oven. And the sun disappears into the plain, and the +Angelus bell sounds through the immense space. + + +THE TOWN + + +Castro Duro has a great many streets, as many as an important capital. +By only circling the Square one can count the Main Street, Laurel +Street, Christ Street, Merchants' Street, Forge Street, Shoemakers' +Street, Loafing Street, Penitence Wall, and Chain Street. + +These streets are built with large brick houses and small adobe houses. +Pointed cobbles form the pavement, and leave a dirty open sewer in the +middle. + +The large houses have two granite columns on their facades, on either +side of the door, and these columns as well as the stones of the +threshold take on a violet tinge from the lees of wine the inhabitants +have the custom of putting on the sidewalks to dry. + +Many of the big houses in Castro boast a large 'scutcheon over the door, +little crazy towers with iron weather-cocks on the roof; and some of +them a huge stork's nest. + +The streets remote from the centre of town have no paving, and their +houses are low, built of adobe, and continued by yards, over whose +mud-walls appear the branches of fig-trees. + +These houses lean forward or backward, and they have worn-out balconies, +staircases which hold up through some prodigy of stability, and old +grills, crowned with a cross and embellished with big flowers of wrought +iron. + +The two principal monuments of Castro Duro are the Great Church and the +palace. + +The Great Church is Romanesque, of a colour between yellow and brown, +gilded by the sun. It stands high, at one extremity of the hill, like a +sentinel watching the valley. The solid old fabric has rows of crenels +under the roof, which shows its warlike character. + +The principal dome and the smaller ones are ribbed, like almost all the +Romanesque churches of Spain. + +The round apse exhibits ornamental half columns, divers rosettes, and a +number of raised figures, and masonic symbols. In the interior of the +church the most notable thing to be seen is the Renaissance altar-piece +and a Romanesque arch that gives entrance to the baptistery. + +The second archeological monument of the town is the ancient palace of +the Dukes of Castro Duro. + +The palace, a great structure of stone and now blackened brick, rises at +the side of the town-hall, and has, like it, an arcade on the Square. In +the central balcony there are monumental columns, and on top of them +two giants of corroded stone, with large clubs, who appear to guard the +'scutcheon; one end of the building is made longer by a square tower. + +The palace wears the noble air given to old edifices by the large spread +of wall containing windows very far apart, very small, and very much +ornamented. + +From the inscriptions on its various escutcheons one can gather that it +was erected by the Duke of Castro Duro and his wife, Doa Guiomar. + +In the rear of the palace, like a high belvedere built on the rampart, +there appears a gallery formed of ten round arches, supported on slender +pilasters. Below the gallery are the remains of a garden, with ramps and +terraces and a few old statues. The river comes almost to the foot of +the gardens. + +Today the palace belongs to Don Calixto Garca Guerrero, Count de la +Sauceda. + +Don Calixto and his family have no necessity for the whole of this big +palace to live in, and have been content to renovate the part fronting +on the Calle Mayor. They have had new belvederes built in, and have +given over the apartments looking on the Square and the Calle del Cristo +to the Courts and the school. + +Another great building, which astonishes every one that stops over at +Castro Duro, by its size, is the Convent of la Merced. It has been half +destroyed by a fire. In the groins there remain some large Renaissance +brackets, and in one wing of the edifice, inhabited by the nuns, there +are windows with jalousies and a rather lofty tower terminating in a +weather-cock and a cross. + + +LIFE AT CASTRO + + +Castro Duro is principally a town of farmers and carriers. Its municipal +limits are very extensive; the plain surrounding it is fertile enough. +In winter there are many foggy days, and then the flat land looks like +a sea, in which hillocks and groves float like islands. Wine and +cultivated fruits constitute the principal riches of Castro. The wine is +sharp, badly made; there is one thick dark variety which always tastes +of tar, and one light variety which they reinforce with alcohol and +which they call aloque. + +Autumn is the period of greatest animation in the town; the harvest +gets stowed away, the vintage made, the sweet almonds are gathered and +shelled in the porticoes. + +Formerly in all the houses of rich and poor, the murk of the grapes +was boiled in a still and a somewhat bitter brandy thus manufactured. +Whether in consequence of the brandy, or of the unusual amount of money +about, or of both, the fact is that at that period a great passion for +gambling developed in Castro and more crimes were committed then than +during all the rest of the year. + +The industrial processes in Castro are primitive; everything is made +by hand, and the Castrian people imagine that this establishes a +superiority. In the environs of the town there are an electrical plant, +a brickyard, various mills, and lime and plaster kilns. + +The town's commerce is more extended than its industries, although no +more prosperous. In the Square and in the Calle Mayor, under the +arcades white goods are sold and woollens, and there are hat-shops +and silversmiths, one alongside the other. The shopkeepers hang their +merchandise in the arches, the saddlers and harness-makers decorate +their entrances with head-stalls and straps, and those that have no +archway put up awnings. In the Square there are continually stalls set +up for earthenware jars and pitchers and for articles in tin. + +In the outlying streets there are inns, at whose doors five or six mules +with their heads together are almost constantly to be seen; there are +crockery stores containing brooms and every kind of jug and glazed pan; +there are little shops in doorways holding big baskets full of grain; +there are dark taverns, which are also eating-houses, to which the +peasants go to eat on market days, and whose signs are strings of dried +pimentoes and cayenne peppers or an elm branch. In the written signs +there is a truly Castilian charm, chaste and serene. At the Riojano oven +one reads: "'Bred' baked for all 'commers.'" And at the Campico inn it +says: "Wine served by Furibis herself." The shops and the inns have +picturesque names too. There is the Sign of the Moor, and the Sign of +the Jew, and the Sign of the Lion, and one of the Robbers. + +The streets of Castro, especially those near the centre, where the crowd +is greater, are dirty and ill-smelling in summer. Clouds of flies hover +about and settle on the pairs of blissfully sleeping oxen; the sun +pours down his blinding brilliance; not a soul passes, and only a few +greyhounds, white and black, elegant and sad, rove about the streets... + +In all seasons, at twilight, a few young gentlemen promenade in the +Square. At nine at night in the winter, and at ten in summer, begins the +reign of the watchmen with their dramatic and lamentable cry. + +* * * * * + +Alzugaray gave Caesar these details by degrees, while they were both +seated in the hotel getting ready to dine. + +"And the type? The ethnic type? What is it, according to you?" asked +Caesar. + +"A type rather thin than fat, supple, with an aquiline nose, black +eyes..." + +"Yes, the Iberian type," said Caesar, "that is how it struck me too. +Tall, supple, dolichocephalic... It seems to me one can try to put +something through in this town..." + + + + +III + +CAESAR'S LABOURS + +FIRST STEPS + + +"And what have you been doing all day? Tell me." + +"I think, my dear Alzugaray," said Caesar, "that I can say, like my +namesake Julius: 'Veni, vidi, vice.'" + +"The devil! The first day?" + +"Yes." + +"Show me. What happened?" + +"I left the house and entered the caf downstairs. There was no one +there but a small boy, from whom I ordered a bottle of beer and asked if +there was a newspaper published here. He told me yes, the _Castro Mail_, +an independent weekly. I bade him fetch me a copy, even an old one, and +he brought me these two. I gave them a glance, and then, as if it didn't +interest me much, I questioned the lad about Don Calixto. + +"The first impression I obtained was that Don Calixto is the most +influential person in the town; the second, that besides him, either +with him or against him, there is a Seor Don Platn Peribez, almost +as influential as Don Calixto. Afterwards I read the two numbers of the +Castro periodical attentively, and from this reading I gathered that +there is a somewhat hazy question here about an Asylum, where it +seems some irregularities have been committed. There is a Republican +book-dealer, who is a member of the Council, and on whom the Workmen's +Club depends, and he has asked for information as to the facts from the +Municipality, and the followers of Don Calixto and of Don Platn oppose +this suggestion as an attack on the good-birth, the honour, and the +reputation of such respectable personages. + +"Having verified these pieces of news, which are of interest for me, I +packed off to church and heard the whole eleven o'clock mass." + +"Mighty good! You are quite a man." + +"Mass ended, I went over to the Baptistery arch and stood there +examining it, as if I felt the most terrible symptoms of enthusiasm for +carved stone. Afterwards I went into the big chapel, which serves also +as a pantheon for the Dukes of Castro Duro, whose tombs you find in +the side niches of the presbytery. These niches are decorated with an +efflorescence of Gothic, which is most gay and pretty, and among all +this stone filigree you see the recumbent statues of a number of knights +and one bishop, who to judge by his sword must have been a warrior too. + +"Nobody remained in the church; the priest, a nice old man, fixed his +eyes on me and asked me what I thought of the arch. And having prepared +my lesson, I talked about the Romanesque of the XII and XIII Centuries +like a professor, and then he took me into the sacristy and showed me +two paintings on wood which I told him were XV Century. + +"'So they say,' the priest agreed. 'Do you think they are Italian or +German?' + +"'Italian certainly, North Italian.' I might as well have said South +German, but I had to decide for something. + +"'And they must be worth...? he then asked me with eagerness. + +"'My dear man; according,' I told him. 'A dealer would offer you a +hundred or two hundred pesetas apiece. In London or New York, well +placed, they might be worth twenty or thirty thousand francs.' + +"The 'pater' shot fire out of his eyes. + +"'And what would one have to do about it?' he asked me. + +"'My dear man, I think one would have to take some good photographs and +send them to various trades-people and to the museums in the United +States.' + +"'Would it be necessary to write in English?' + +"'Yes, it would be the most practical thing.' "'I don't think there is +anybody here that knows how....' + +"'I would do it, with great pleasure.' + +"'But are you going to be here for some time?' + +"'Yes, it is probable.' + +"He asked me what I came to Castro Duro for, and I told him that I had +no other object than to visit Don Calixto Garca Guerrero. + +"Astonishment on the priest's face. + +"'You know him?' + +"'Yes, I met him in Rome.' + +"'Do you know where he lives?' + +"'No.' + +"'Then I will take you.' + +"The priest and I went out into the street. He wanted to give me the +sidewalk, and I opposed that as if it were a crime. He told me he was +more accustomed than I to walking on the cobble-stones; and finally, he +on the sidewalk and I in the gutter, we arrived at Don Calixto's house." + +* * * * * + +"Was he at home?" asked Alzugaray. + +"Yes," said Caesar. "By the way, on the road there we bowed to the +present Deputy to the Cortes, he who will be my opponent in the +approaching election, Seor Garca Padilla." + +"Dear man! What a coincidence! What sort is he?" + +"He is tall, with a reddish aquiline nose, a greyish moustache, full of +cosmetic, a poor type." + +"He is a Liberal?" + +"Yes, he is a Liberal, because Don Calixto is a Conservative. In his +heart, nothing." + +"Good. Go on." + +_DON CALIXTO AT HOME_ + +"As I was saying, Don Calixto was at home, in a large room on the ground +floor, which serves as his office. Don Calixto is a tall, supple man, +with the blackest of hair which is beginning to turn white on the +temples, and a white moustache. He is at the romantic age of illusions, +of hopes...." "How old is he?" asked Alzugaray. + +"He isn't more than fifty-four," Caesar replied, sarcastically. "Don +Calixto dresses in black, very fastidiously, and the effect is smart, +but smacks of the notary. No matter what pains he takes to appear +graceful and easy in manner, he doesn't achieve the result; he has the +inbred humility of one who has taken orders in a shop, either as a lad +or as a man. + +"Don Calixto received me with great amiability, but with a certain air +of reserve, as if to say: 'In Rome I was a merry comrade to you, here I +am a personage.' We chatted about a lot of things, and before he could +ask me what I wanted, I pulled out the letter and handed it to him. The +old man put on his glasses, read attentively, and said: + +"'Very good, very good; we will discuss it later.' + +"The priest of course thought that he was in the way, and he left. + +"When we were alone, Don Calixto said: + +"'All right, Caesar, I am happy to see you. I see that you remember our +conversation in Rome. You must have lunch with me and my family.' + +"'With great pleasure.' + +"'I'll go and tell them to put on another place.' + +"Don Calixto went out and left me alone. For a while I studied the +boss's office. On the wall, diplomas, appointments, in looking-glass +frames; a genealogical tree, probably drawn day before yesterday; in a +book-case, legal books... + +"Don Calixto came back; he asked me if I was tired, and I told him no, +and when we had crossed the whole width of the house, which is huge, he +showed me the garden. My boy, what a wonderful spot! It hangs over the +river and it is a marvel. The highest part, which is the part they keep +up, isn't worth much; it is in lamentable style; just imagine, there is +a fountain which is a tin negro that spurts out water from all parts. + +"However, the old part of the garden, the lower part, is lovely. There +is a big tower standing guard over the river, now converted into a +belvedere, with pomegranates, rose-bushes, and climbing plants all +around it, and above all, there is an oleander that is a marvel...; it +looks like a fire-work castle or a shower of flowers." + +* * * * * + +"Leave that point," said Alzugaray. "You are talking like a poor +disciple of Ruskin's." + +"You are right. But when you see those gardens, you will be +enthusiastic, too." + +"Get ahead." + +* * * * * + + + + +THE POLITICAL POWERS OF CASTRO + +"During our promenade Don Calixto talked to me of the immense good he +has done for the town and of the ingratitude he constantly receives for +it. + +"While I listened, I recalled a little periodical in Madrid which had no +other object than to furnish bombs at reasonable prices, and which said, +speaking of a manufacturer in Catalonia: 'Seor So-and-so is the most +powerful boss in the province of Tarragona, and even at that there are +those who dispute his bossdom.' + +"Don Calixto is astonished that when he has done the Castrians the +honour to make them loans at eighty or ninety percent, they are not fond +of him. After the garden we saw the house; I won't tell you anything +about it, I don't want you to accuse me again of being a Ruskinian. + +"When we reached the dining-room Don Calixto said: 'I am going to +present you to my family.' + +"Thereupon, entrance, ceremonies, bows on my part, smiles ... _toute +la lyre_. Don Calixto's wife is an insignificant fat woman; the two +daughters insipid, ungainly, not at all pretty; and with them was a +little girl of about fifteen or sixteen, a niece of Don Calixto's, a +veritable little devil, named Amparo. This Amparo is a tiny, flat-faced +creature, with black eyes, and extraordinarily vivacious and +mischievous. During dinner I succeeded in irritating the child. + +"I talked gravely with Don Calixto and his wife and daughters about +Madrid, about the theatrical companies that come to this town, about +their acquaintances at the Capital. + +"The child interrupted us, bringing us the cat and putting a little bow +on him, and then making him walk on the key-board of the piano. + +"At half-past one we went to the dining-room. Dinner was kilometres +long; and the conversation turned on Rome and Paris. Don Calixto drank +more and more, I, too; and at the end of the meal there was a bit of +toasting, from which my political intentions were made manifest. + +"The elder daughter, whose name is Adela, asked me if I liked music. I +told her yes, almost closing my eyes, as if deliriously, and we went +into the drawing-room. Without paying attention, I listened, during +the horrors of digestion, to a number of sonatas, now and then saying: +'Magnificent! How wonderful that is!' + +"The father was enchanted, the mother enchanted, the sister likewise; +the little girl was the one who stared at me with questioning black +eyes. She must have been thinking: 'What species of bird is this?' I +believe the damned child realized that I was acting a comedy. + +"About four the ladies and I went out into the garden. Don Calixto has +the habit of taking an afternoon nap, and he left us. I succeeded in +bringing myself to, in the open air. Don Calixto's wife showed me over +an abandoned part of the house, in which there is an old kitchen as big +as a cathedral, with a stone chimney like a high altar, with the arms +of the Dukes of Castro. We chatted, I was very pleasant to the mother, +courteous to the daughters, and coldly indifferent with the little +niece. I was bored, after having exhausted all subjects of conversation, +when Don Calixto reappeared and carried me off to his office. + +"The conference was important; he explained the situation of the +Conservative forces of the district to me. These forces are represented, +principally, by three men: Don Calixto, a Seor Don Platn, and a friar. +Don Calixto represents the modern Conservative tendency and is, let us +say, the Cnovas of the district; with him are the rich members of the +Casino, the superior judge, the doctors, the great proprietors, etc. +Don Platn Peribez, a silversmith in the Calle Mayor, represents the +middle-class Conservatives; his people are less showy, but more in +earnest and better disciplined; this Platonian or Platonic party is made +up of chandlers, silversmiths, small merchants, and the poor priests. +The friar, who represents the third Conservative nucleus, is Father +Martin Lafuerza. Father Martin is prior of the Franciscan monastery, +which was established here after the Order was expelled from Filinas. + +"Father Martin is an Ultramontanist up to the eyes. He directs priests, +friars, nuns, sisters, and is the absolute master of a town nearby +called Cidones, where the women are very pious. + +"Despite their piety, the reputation of those ladies cannot be very +good, because there is a proverb, certainly not very gallant: 'Don't get +either a wife or a mule at Cidones; neither a wife nor a mule nor a pig +at Grin.' + +"Opposed to these three Conservative nuclei are the friends of the +present Deputy, who amount to no more than the official element, which +is always on the ruling side, and a small guerilla band that meets in +the Workingmen's Casino, and is composed principally of a Republican +bookseller, an apothecary who invents explosives, also Republican, an +anarchist doctor, a free-thinking weaver, and an innkeeper whom they +call Furibis, who is also a smuggler and a man with hair on his chest." + + + +_DON PLATN PERIBEZ_ + +"After having given me these data, Don Calixto told me that by counting +on Seor Peribez, the election was almost sure; and since the quicker +things go the better, he proposed that we should go to see him, and I +immediately agreed. + +"Don Platn Peribez has a silver-shop fitted up in the old style; a +small show-window, full of rattles, Moorish anklets, necklaces, little +crosses, et cetera; a narrow, dark shop, then a long passage, and at the +rear, a workroom with a window on a court. + +"As his assistant in the silver-shop, Don Platn has a boy who is a +nonsuch. I believe that if you took him to London and exhibited him, +saying beforehand: 'Bear in mind, gentlemen, that this is not a monkey +or an anthropoid, but a man,' you would rake in a mad amount of pounds +sterling. + +"We went into Don Platn's little shop, we asked the young macaco for +him, and we passed on into the workshop. + +"Seor Peribez is a man of medium stature, dressed in black, with a +trimmed white beard, grey eyes, and modest manners. He speaks coldly, +thinks closely of what he is saying; he has a monotonous, slow voice, +and nothing escapes him. + +"Don Calixto presented me to him; the silversmith gave me his hand as if +with a certain repugnance, and the boss explained who I was and what I +was after. + +"Don Platn said that he could not reply categorically without +consulting with his friends and with Father Martn. The Father has other +candidates; one the Duke of Castro himself; and the other a rich farmer +of the town. + +"The Duke of Castro presents no other drawback than that he has been +arrested in Paris for an insignificant swindle he has committed; but +it seems that a rich Cuban wants to get him out of his difficulties on +condition that he will marry his daughter. + +"If he comes out of jail and gets married, then they will nominate him +as Deputy from here. + +"I said to Don Platn, in case the worthy Duke does not come out of +jail, would he have difficulties over my being his candidate. He replied +that I am very young, and after many circumlocutions he said flatly that +he doesn't know if I would be accepted or not as a candidate by his +followers; but in case I were, the conditions precedent would be: first, +that I would not interfere in any way in the affairs of the district, +which would be ventilated in the town, as previously; secondly, that I +should bear the costs of the election, which would amount approximately +to some ten thousand pesetas. + +"Don Calixto looked at me questioningly, and I smiled in a way to make +it understood that I agreed, and after extracting a promise from Don +Platn that he will give us a definite answer this week, we took leave +of him and went to the Casino. + +"There I was introduced to the judge, an Andalusian who has a spotless +reputation for veniality, and to the mayor, who is a rich farmer; and +the most important persons of the town being thus gathered at one table, +we chatted about politics, women, and gambling. + +"I told them a number of tales; I told them that I once lost ten +thousand dollars at Monte Carlo, playing with two Russian princes and a +Yankee millionairess; I talked to them about the mysteries and crimes of +gambling houses and of those great centres of pleasure, and I left them +speechless. At half-past nine, with a terrible headache, I came back +here. I think I have not lost a day, eh?" + +"No! The devil! What speed!" exclaimed Alzugaray. + +"But you are not eating any supper. Don't you intend to take anything?" + +"No. I am going to see if I can sleep. Listen, day after tomorrow we are +both invited to dine at Don Calixto's." + +"Me, too?" + +"Yes; I told them that you are a rich tourist, and they want to know +you." + +"And what am I to do there?" + +"You can study these people, as an entomologist studies insects. Listen, +it wouldn't do any harm if you took a walk to that town near here, named +Cidones, to see if you can find out what sort of bird this Father Martin +is." + +"All right." + +"And if you don't mind, go into that Republican bookseller's shop, under +any pretext, and talk to him." + +"I will do so." + +"Then, till tomorrow!" + +"You are going now?" + +"Yes." + +"Goodnight, then." + +Caesar left his room and marched off to sleep. + + + + +IV + +THE BOOKSELLER AND THE ANARCHISTS + + +The following day, very early in the morning, Alzugaray went to a +livery-stable which they had directed him to at the hotel, and asked to +hire a horse. They brought him a large, old one; he mounted, and crossed +the town more slowly than if he had been on foot, and set out for +Cidones. + +On reaching that town, he left the horse at a blacksmith's and went up +through the narrow lanes of Cidones, which are horribly long, dark, and +steep. + +Then he ascended to la Pea, the rock on which the Franciscan monastery +stands; but was unable to obtain any fresh information about Father +Martin and his friars. The people with whom he talked were not disposed +to unbosom themselves, and he preferred not to insist, so as not to be +suspected. + +Afterwards he went down to Cidones again and returned to Castro Duro. +Caesar was still in bed. Alzugaray went into his room. + +"Don't you intend to get up?" he asked him. + +"No." + +"Don't you intend to eat, either?" + +"Neither." + +"Are you sick?" + +"No." + +"What is the matter with you? Laziness?" + +"Something like that." + +Alzugaray ate alone, and after he had had coffee, he directed his steps +to the bookstore of the Republican councilman, of whom Caesar had spoken +to him. He found it in a corner of the Square; and it was at the same +time a stationer's shop and a newsdealer's. Behind the counter were an +old man and a lad. + +Alzugaray went in. He bought various Madrid periodicals from the lad, +and then addressing the old man, asked him: + +"Haven't you some sort of a map of the province, or of the neighbourhood +of Castro Duro?" + +"No, sir, there isn't one." + +"Nor a guidebook, perhaps?" + +"Nor that either. At the townhall we have a map of the town...." + +"Only of the part built up?" + +"Yes." + +"Then it would do me no good." + +"You want a map for making excursions, eh?" + +"That's it. Yes." + +"Well, there is none. We are very much behind the times." + +"Yes, that's true. It wouldn't cost very much, and it would be useful +for ever, both to the people here and to strangers." + +"Just tell that to our town government!" exclaimed the old bookseller. +"Whatever is not for the advantage of the rich and the clerical element, +there is no hope of." + +"Those gentlemen have a great deal of influence here?" asked Alzugaray. + +"Uf! Enormous. More every day." + +"But there don't appear to be many convents." + +"No, there are not many convents; but there is one that counts for a +hundred, and that is the one at Cidones." + +"Why is that?" + +"Because it has a wild beast for a prior. Father Martn Lafuerza. He is +famous all through this region. And he is a man of talent, there's no +denying it, but despotic and exigent. He is into everything, catechizes +the women, dominates the men. There is no way to fight against him. Here +am I with this bookshop, and I have my pension as a lieutenant, which +gives me enough to live very meanly, and with what little I get out of +the periodicals I scrape along. Besides, I am a Republican and very +liberal, and I like propaganda. If I didn't, I should have left all this +long ago, because they have waged war to the death on me, an infamous +sort of war which a person that lives in Madrid cannot understand; +calumnies that come from no one knows where, atrocious accusations, +everything...." + +Alzugaray stared at the bookseller's grey eyes, which were +extraordinarily bright. The old man was tall, stooped, grizzled, with a +prominent nose and a beard trimmed to a point. + +"But you have stuck firmly to your post," said Alzugaray. + +"Having been a soldier must do something for a man," replied the +bookseller. "He learns not to draw back in the face of danger. And this +is my life. Now I am a councillor and I work at the town hall as much as +I can, even though I know I shall accomplish nothing. Grafting goes on +before my face, I know it exists, and yet it is impossible to find it. +Six months ago I informed the judge of irregularities committed in a +Sisters' Asylum, things I had proof of.... The judge laid my information +on the table, and things went on as if nothing had happened." + +"Spain is in a bad way. It is a pity!" exclaimed Alzugaray. + +"You people in Madrid, and I don't say this to irritate you, do not +understand what goes on in the small towns." + +"My dear man, I have never taken any part in political affairs." + +"Well, I think that everybody ought to take part in politics, because it +is for the general interest." + +At this moment two persons entered the bookshop. Alzugaray was going to +leave, but the bookseller said to him: + +"If you have nothing to do, sit down for a while." + +Alzugaray sat down and examined the new arrivals. One of them was a +skinny man, with bushy hair and whiskers; the other was a smooth-shaven +party, short, cross-eyed, dressed in copper-coloured cloth edged with +broad black braid. + +"_The Rebel_ hasn't come?" asked the whiskered one. + +"No," replied the bookseller. "It didn't come out this week." + +"They must have reported it," said the whiskered one. "Yes, probably." + +"Has the doctor been in?" the shaven, little man with the black braid +asked in his turn. + +"No." + +"All right. Let's go see if we can find him in the club. Salutations!" + +"Good-bye." + +"Who are those rascals?" asked Alzugaray, when they had gone out. + +"They are two anarchists that we have here, who accuse me of being a +bourgeois ... ha ... ha.... The shaven one is the son of the landlady of +an inn who is called Furibis, and they call him that too. He used to be +a Federalist. They call the other one 'Whiskers,' and he came here from +Linares, not long ago." + +"What do they do?" + +"Nothing. They sit in the club chatting, and nowadays the doctor we have +here runs with them, Dr. Ortigosa, who is half mad. He will be in soon. +Then you will see a type. He is a very bad-tempered man, and is always +looking for an excuse to quarrel. But above all, he is an enemy of +religion. He never says Good-bye, but Salutations or Farewell. In +the same way, he doesn't say Holy Week, but Clerical Week. His great +pleasure is to find a temperament of a fibre like his own; then his eyes +flash and he begins to swear. And if he is hit, he stands for it." + +"He is an anarchist, too?" + +"How do I know? He doesn't know himself. Formerly, for four or five +months, he got out a weekly paper named _The Protest_, and sometimes +he wrote about the canalization of the river, and again about the +inhabitants of Mars." + +The bookseller and Alzugaray chatted about many other things, and after +some while the bookseller said: + +"Here is Dr. Ortigosa. He is coming in." + +The door opened and a slim individual appeared, worn and sickly, with a +black beard and spectacles. His necktie was crooked, his suit dirty, and +he had his hat in his hand. He stared impertinently at Alzugaray, cast +a glance at a newspaper, and set to shouting and talking ill of +everything. + +"This is a town full of dumb beasts," he said from time to time, with +the energy of exasperation. + +Then, supposing Alzugaray to come from Madrid, he started to speak ill +of the Madrileos. + +"They are a collection of fools," he said roundly, various times. +"They know nothing, they understand nothing, and still they talk +authoritatively about everything." + +Alzugaray put up with the downpour as if it had no reference to him, +looking over a newspaper; and when the doctor was in the thick of his +discourse, Alzugaray got up, shook hands with the bookseller, thanked +him, and left the shop. + +The doctor looked at him over his glasses with fury, and began to walk +up and down in the bookstore. + +Alzugaray went to the hotel, arranging in his memory the data collected. + +Caesar was feeling well, and the two of them talked of the bookseller +and his friends and of Father Martin Lafuerza. + +"I am going to jot down all these points," said Caesar. "It wouldn't be +a bad idea for you to go on cultivating the bookseller." + +"I am going to." + +"Tomorrow, you know," said Caesar. "Grand dinner at Don Calixto's. The +practical manoeuvres begin." + +"Very good." + + + + +V + +THE BANQUET + +THE GUESTS + + +The table had been set in that wonderful gallery of the ancient palace +of the Dukes of Castro Duro, which looked out over the garden. The early +autumn weather was of enchanting softness and sweetness. + +Caesar and Alzugaray were very smart and elegant, with creases in their +trousers: Caesar dressed in black, with the ceremonious aspect +that suits a grave man; Alzugaray in a light suit with a coloured +handkerchief in his breast pocket. + +"I think we are 'gentlemen' today," said Caesar. + +"It seems so to me." + +They entered the house and were ushered into the drawing-room. The +majority of the guests were already there; the proper introductions +and bows took place. Caesar stayed in the group of men, who remained +standing, and Alzugaray went over to enter the sphere of Don Calixto's +wife and the judge's wife. + +The judge, from the first moment, treated Caesar like a man of +importance, and began to call him Don Caesar every moment, and to find +everything he said, good. + +In the ladies' group there was an old priest, a tall, big, deaf man, a +great friend of the family, named Don Ramn. + +The judge's wife told Alzugaray that this Don Ramn was a simpleton. + +He was the pastor of a very rich hermitage nearby, the hermitage of la +Vega, and he had spent all the money he had got by an inheritance, in +fixing up the church. + +The poor man was childlike and sweet. He said various times that he had +many cloaks for the Virgin in the sacristy of his church, and that he +wished they could be given to poor parishes, because two or three were +enough in his. + + +AMPARITO + + +While they were talking an automobile horn was heard, and a little later +Don Calixto's niece entered the drawing-room. + +This was Amparito, the flat-faced girl with black eyes, of whom Caesar +had spoken to Alzugaray. Her father accompanied her. + +The priest patted the girl's cheeks. + +Her father was a clumsy man, red, sunburned, with the face of a +contractor or a miner. + +The girl took off her cap and the veil she wore in the automobile, and +seated herself between Don Calixto's daughters. Alzugaray looked her +over. Amparito really was attractive; she had a short nose, bright black +eyes, red lips too thick, white teeth, and smooth cheeks. She wore her +hair down, in ringlets; but in spite of her infantile get-up, one saw +that she was already a woman. + +"Caesar is right; this is quite a lively girl," murmured Alzugaray. + +The mayor's son now arrived, and his sister. He was an insignificant +little gentleman, mild and courteous; he had studied law at Salamanca, +and it seemed that he had certain intentions about Don Calixto's second +daughter. + +All the guests being assembled, the master of the house said that, since +nobody was missing and it was time, they might pass into the gallery, +where the table was set. + +At one end the lady of the house seated herself, having the priest on +one side and the judge on the other; at the other end, Don Calixto, +between the judge's wife and the mayor's daughter. Caesar had a seat +assigned between Don Calixto's elder daughter and Amparito, and +Alzugaray one between the second daughter and the judge's girl. + +A few moments before they sat down, Amparito went running out of +the gallery into the garden. "Where has that child gone?" asked Don +Calixto's wife. + +"Something or other has occurred to her," said Amparito's father, +laughing. + +The girl reappeared a little later with a number of yellow and red +chrysanthemums in her hand. + +She gave red ones to the mayor's daughter and to her cousins, who were +all three brunettes, and a yellow one to the judge's daughter, who was +blond. Then she proceeded to the men. + +"This one is for you," to the mayor's son; "this one for you," and she +gave Alzugaray a yellow one; "this one for you," and she gave Caesar +a red one; "and this one for me," and she put a similar flower in her +bosom. + +"And the rest of us?" asked Don Calixto. + +"I don't give you chrysanthemums, because your wives would be jealous," +replied Amparito. + +"Man, man!" exclaimed the judge; "how does it strike you, Don Calixto? +That these little girls know the human heart pretty well?" + +"These children do not know how to appreciate our merits," said Don +Calixto. + +"Oh, yes; your merits are for your wives," replied Amparito. + +"I must inform you that my friend Caesar is married, too," said +Alzugaray, laughing. + +"Pshaw!" she exclaimed, smiling and showing her white, strong teeth. "He +hasn't the face of a married man." + +"Yes, he has got the face of a married man. Look at him hard." + +"Very well; as his wife isn't here, she won't quarrel with me." + +Alzugaray examined this girl. She had great vivacity; any idea that +occurred to her was reflected in her face in a manner so lively and +charming, that she was an interesting spectacle to watch. + +At first the conversation was of a languid and weary character; Don +Calixto, the judge, and Caesar started in to exchange political +reflexions of crass vulgarity. Caesar was gallantly attentive to the +wants of Don Calixto's elder daughter, and less gallantly so to his +other neighbour Amparito; the mayor's son, despite the fact that his +official mission was to court one of Don Calixto's girls, looked more at +Amparito than at his intended, and Alzugaray listened smilingly to the +young person's sallies. + +Toward the middle of the meal the conversation grew brisker; the judge +recounted, with much art, a mysterious crime that had occurred in a town +in Andalusia among farming people, and he succeeded in keeping them all +hanging to his lips. + +At the end of the recital, the conversation became general; the younger +element talked together, and Caesar made comments about what the judge +had told them, and defended the most immoral and absurd conclusions, as +though they were Conservative ideas. + +Caesar's observations were discussed by the men, and the judge and Don +Calixto agreed that Caesar was a man of real talent, who would play a +great role in Congress. + +"Please give me a little wine," said Amparito, holding her glass to +Alzugaray; "your friend pays no attention to me; I have asked him for +some wine twice, and nothing doing." + +Caesar acted as if he hadn't heard and kept on talking; + +Amparito took the glass, wet her lips in it, and looked at Alzugaray +maliciously. + +After eating and having coffee, as the two married ladies and the girls +were inert from so long a meal, they arose, and Alzugaray, the mayor's +son, and Amparito's father followed them. Don Calixto, the judge, and +Caesar remained at table. The priest had gone to sleep. + +A bottle of chartreuse was brought, and they started in drinking and +smoking. + +Caesar's throat grew dry and he became nauseated from drinking, smoking, +and talking. + +At five the judge took his leave, because he had to glance in at court; +Don Calixto wanted to take his nap, and after he had escorted Caesar to +the garden, he went away. The two married ladies were alone, because +the young people had gone with Amparito's father on an excursion to the +Devil's Threshold, a defile where the river flows between some red +precipitous rocks full of clefts. + +Caesar joined the two ladies, and kept up a monotonous, dreary +conversation about the ways of the great city. + +At twilight all the excursionists came back from their jaunt. One of the +young ladies played something very noisy on the piano, and the judge's +daughter was besought to recite one of Campoamor's poems. + +"It is a very pretty thing," said the judge's wife, "a girl who laments +because her lover abandons her." + +"Given the customs of Spain, as they are, the girl would be in a house +of prostitution," said Caesar in a low tone, ironically. + +"Shut up," replied Alzugaray. + +The girl recited the poem, and Caesar asked Alzugaray sarcastically if +those verses were by the girl's father, because they sounded to him like +the verses of a notary or a judge of the Court of First Instance. + +Then somebody suggested that they should have supper there. + +Caesar noticed that this plan did not appeal to the mistress of the +house, and he said: + +"One should be moderate in all things. I am going home to bed." + +After this somewhat pedantic phrase, which to Don Calixto seemed a +pearl, Caesar took leave of his new acquaintances with a great deal of +ceremony and coolness. Alzugaray said he would remain a while longer. + +When Caesar was bowing to Amparito, she asked him jokingly: + +"Is it your wife that keeps you in such good habits?" + +"My wife!" exclaimed Caesar, surprised. + +"Didn't your friend say..." + +"Ah! Yes, it is she who makes me have such good habits." + +This said, he left the drawing-room and went quickly down the stairs. +The cool night air made him shiver, and he went with a heavy, aching +head to his hotel, and got to bed. He slept very profoundly, but not +for more than an hour, and woke up sweaty and thirsty. His headache was +gone. It was not yet past eleven. He lighted the light, and sitting +up in bed, set to thinking over the probabilities of success in his +undertaking. + +Meanwhile he stared at the red chrysanthemum which was in the +button-hole of his coat, and remembered Amparito. + +"That child is a prodigy of coquetry and bad bringing-up," he thought +with vexation; "these emancipated small town young ladies are more +unattractive than any others. I prefer Don Calixto's daughter, who at +least is naively and unobjectionably stupid. But this other one is +unsupportable." + +Without knowing why, he felt more antipathy for the girl than was +natural under the circumstances. He did not like to admit it to himself; +but he felt the hostility which is produced in strong, self-willed +characters by the presence of another person with a strong character +proposing to exert itself. + + +THE TWO FRIENDS' COMMENTS + + +Caesar was thinking over the details of the visit, when Alzugaray came +home, and seeing a light in Caesar's room, went in there. Alzugaray was +quite lively. The two friends passed the persons met that day in ironic +review, and in general they were agreed about everything, except about +valuing Amparito's character. + +Caesar found her distasteful, pert and impertinent; to his friend, on +the contrary, she had seemed very attractive, very amiable and very +clever. + +"To me," said Caesar, "she appears one of these small town lasses who +have a flirtation with a student, then with a captain, and finally +marry some rich brute, and get fat, and turn into old sows, and grow +moustaches." + +"In that I think you are fundamentally unjust," said Alzugaray. +"Amparito is not a small town lass, for she lives in Madrid almost all +year. Besides, that makes no difference; what I have not observed is her +committing any folly or impertinence." "Dear man, it all depends on +how you look at it. To me her conduct seemed bad, to you it seems all +right." + +"You are an extremist, for I can assure you that you were actually rude +to her." + +"Actually rude, I don't think; but I admit that I was cool and not very +amiable." + +"And why were you?" + +"First, because it is politic of me, since Don Calixto's family do not +care for Amparito; and secondly, because the little creature didn't +please me, either." + +"And why didn't she please you? For no reason at all?" + +"I am not partial to the platyrrhine races." + +"What nonsense! And you wish to look at things clearly! A man that +judges people by their noses!" + +"It seems to you little to go on? A brunette girl, brachicephalic and +rather platyrrhine.... There is no more to say." + +"And if she had been blond, dolichocephalic, and long-nosed, she would +have seemed all right to you." + +"Her ethnic type would have seemed all right." + +"Let's not discuss it. What's the use? But I feel that you are arbitrary +to an extreme." + +"If she knew of our discussion, the young thing couldn't complain, +because if she has had a systematic detractor in me, she has found an +enthusiastic defender in you." + +"Yes, dear man; it is only at such long intervals that I see a person +with ingenuousness and enthusiasm, that when I do meet one, I get a real +joy from it." + +"You are a sentimentalist." + +"That's true; and you have become an inquisitor." + +"Most certainly. I believe we agree on that and on all the rest." + +"I think so. All right. Good-bye!" said Alzugaray, ill-humouredly. + +"Salutations!" replied Caesar. + + + + +VI + +UNCLE CHINAMAN + +CIDONES + + +Caesar impatiently awaited Seor Peribez's reply, so that he might +return to Madrid. He was fed up with Don Calixto's conversation and his +wife's, and with the familiarity they had established with him. + +Alzugaray, on the other hand, was entertained and content. Amparito's +father showed a great liking for him and took him everywhere in his +automobile. + +Caesar, in order to satisfy his requirements for isolation, had begun to +get up very early and take walks on the highway. He almost always walked +too far, and was done up for the whole day, and at first he slept badly +at night. + +He wanted to see, one by one, the parts of his future realm, the scene +where his initiative was to bear seed and his plans to be realized. + +A lot of ideas occurred to him: to build a bridge here, to take +advantage there of the fall of the river and establish a big electric +plant for industrial purposes. He would have liked to change everything +he saw, in an instant. + +To think of these sleeping forces irritated him: the waterfall, lost +without leaving its energy anywhere; the ravine, which might be +transformed into an irrigation reservoir; the river, which was flowing +gently without fertilizing the fields; the land around the hermitage, +which might have been converted into a park, with a bright, gay +schoolhouse; all these things that could be done and were not done, +seemed to him more real than the people with whom he talked and lived. + +One morning Caesar walked to Cidones; the sun shone strongly on the +highway, and he reached the town choked and thirsty. + +The streets of Cidones were so narrow, so cold and damp, that Caesar +shivered on entering the first one, and he turned back, and instead of +going inside that polypus of dark clefts, he walked around it by the +road. On a small house with an arbour, which was on a corner, he saw a +sign saying: 'Caf Espaol'; and went in. + + +THE CAF ESPAOL + + +The caf was dark and completely empty, but at one end there was a +balcony where the sun entered. Caesar crossed the caf and sat down near +the balcony. + +He called several times, and clapped his hands, and a girl appeared. + +"What do you want?" she asked. + +"Something to drink. A bottle of beer." + +"I will call Uncle Chinaman." + +The girl went out, and soon after a thick, chubby man came in, with a +bottle of beer in his hand, the label of which he showed to Caesar, +asking him if that was what he wanted. + +"Yes, sir; that will do very well." + +The man opened the bottle with his corkscrew, put it on the table, and +as he seemed to have a desire to enter into conversation, Caesar asked +him: + +"Why did the girl tell me that Uncle Chinaman would come? Who is the +Chinaman?" + +"The Chinaman, or Uncle Chinaman, as you like; I am." + +"My dear man!" + +"Yes, we all have nicknames here. They called my father that, and they +call me that. Psh! It makes no difference. Because if a person is cross +about it, it's all the worse. A few days ago a muleteer from a town +in the district arrived here, and went to the inn, and as he had no +nickname and they are very fond here in Cidones of giving one to every +living creature, they said to him: 'No matter how short a while you stay +here, you will be given a nickname'; and he answered contemptuously: +'Bah! Little fear.' Soon after, as he was crossing the square, a girl +said to him: 'Good-bye, Little Fear!' and Little Fear it remained." + +As Uncle Chinaman seemed very communicative, Caesar asked him some +questions about life in the town. + +Uncle Chinaman talked a great deal and with great clearness. According +to him, the cause of all trouble in the town was cowardice. The two or +three bosses of Castro and Father Martin ruled their party arbitrarily, +and the rest of the people didn't dare breathe. + +The poor didn't understand that by being united they could offset the +influence of the rich, and even succeed in dominating them. Besides, +fear didn't permit them to move. + +"But fear of what?" said Caesar. + +"Fear of everything; fear that they will levy a tax, that they won't +provide work, that they will take your son for a soldier, that they will +put you in jail for something or other, that the two or three bullies +who are in the bosses' service might beat you." + +"Does their tyranny go as far as that?" + +"They do whatever they choose." + +The Chinaman, who looked more like a Tartar, could make himself quite +clear. If it had not been that he used the wrong words and had an itch +for unusual ones, he would have given the impression of being a most +intelligent man. + +He said he was anti-clerical, declared himself a pantheist, and spoke of +the "controversories" he maintained with different persons. + +"A relative of mine who is a monk," he said, "is always reprehending me, +and saying: 'Lucas, you are a Free-Thinker.' ... 'And it's greatly to +my credit,' I tell him." + +Then, apropos of his monkish relative, he told a scandalous story. A +niece of the Chinaman's, who had served for some while in the caf, had +gone to live with this monk. + +Uncle Chinaman's account of it was rather grotesque. + +"I had a niece," he said, "in the house, you know, very spruce, very +good-looking, with breasts as hard as a rock. My wife loved her as +'muchly' as if she had been our daughter, and so did I. Suddenly we +heard the poor child had made a false step... or two false steps... and +a little while later the girl was in a bad condition. Well, then; she +went to town, and came back here to the caf, and again we heard that +the poor child had made a false step... or two false steps; and as I +have daughters, you know, this 'pro... missiousness' didn't please me, +and I went and told her: 'Look here, Maria, this isn't right at all, and +what you ought to do is get out.' She understood me, and went away, and +went to her uncle the monk, and the two of them formed a 'cohabit.'... +Curse her! I went after them; and if I ever find them, I'll kill them. +All very well for the poor child to make a false step... or two false +steps; but this thing of getting into a 'cohabit' with a monk, and he +her uncle, that is a 'hulimination' for the family. You may believe that +we had to empty the cup down to the 'drugs.'" + + +FATHER MARTIN + + +Caesar was listening to Uncle Chinaman with joy, when he saw two friars +passing along the road below the balcony. + +"They are from the monastery of la Pea, I suppose," he said. + +The Chinaman looked out and replied: + +"One of them is the prior, Father Lafuerza. The other is an intriguing +young chap who has been here only a short while." + +"Man, I have to see them," said Caesar. + +"They are coming up the street now." + +Uncle Chinaman and Caesar went to the other end of the caf, and waited +for them to pass. + +The younger of the two friars had an air of mock humility, and was +weakly-looking, with a straggling yellowish beard and a crafty +expression; Father Martin, on the contrary, looked like a pasha parading +through his dominions. He was tall, stout, of an imposing aspect, with a +grizzly blond beard, blue eyes, and a straight, well-shaped nose. + +The two friars came up the narrow, steep street, stopping to talk to the +women that were sewing and embroidering in the arcades. + +Caesar and the Chinaman followed them with their eyes until the two +friars turned a corner. Then Caesar left the caf and walked back to +Castro Duro. + + + + +VII + +A TRYING SCENE + + +Don Platn Peribez's reply was delayed longer than he had promised. No +one knew whether the Duke of Castro Duro would get married or not get +married, whether he would come out of prison or stay in. + +Caesar had nothing for it but to wait, although he was already fed up +with his stay. Alzugaray had a good time; he visited the surrounding +towns in the company of Amparito and her father. Caesar, on the other +hand, began to be bored. Accustomed to live with the independence of a +savage, the social train of a town like Castro irritated him. + +His good opinion of people was in direct ratio to the indifference +they felt for him. Amparito's father was one of those who showed most +antipathy. Sometimes he invited him to go motoring, but only for +politeness. Caesar used to reply to these invitations with a courteous +refusal. + +Amparito, who was doubtless accustomed to seeing everybody in town +fluttering about her, was wounded at this indifference and took every +chance to see Caesar, and then shot her wit at him and was sharply +impertinent. + +The young creature was more intelligent than she had at first appeared +and she spoke very plainly. + +Caesar could not permit a young girl to make fun of him and combat his +ideas for her own amusement. + +"Let's see, Moneada," Amparito said to him one day in the gallery at Don +Calixto's. "What are your political plans?" + +"You wouldn't understand them," replied Caesar. + +"Why not? Do you think I am so stupid?" + +"No. It is merely that politics are not a matter for children." "Ah! But +how old do you think I am?" she asked. + +"You must be twelve or thirteen." + +"You are a malicious joker, Seor Moncada, You know that I am almost +seventeen." + +"I don't. How should I know it?" + +"Because I told your friend Alzugaray...." + +"All right, but I don't ask my friend what you have told him." + +"It doesn't interest you? Very good. You are very polite. But your +politics do interest me. Come on, tell me. What reforms do you intend +to make in the town? What improvements are you going to give the +inhabitants? For I warn you, Seor Moncada, that they are all going to +vote against you otherwise, I will tell my father." + +"I don't believe his political interest is so keen." + +"It is keen enough, and my father will do what I tell him. My father +says that you are ambitious." + +"If I were, I should make love to you, because you are rich." + +"And do you suppose I would respond?" + +"I don't know, but I should try it, as others do; and you can see that I +don't try." + +Amparito bit her lips and said ironically: + +"Are you reserving yourself for my cousin Adelaida?" + +"I am not reserving myself for anybody." + +"We couldn't say that you are very amiable." + +"That is true. I never have been." + +"If you keep on like that when you are a Deputy...." + +"What difference is it to you whether I am a Deputy or not? Is it +because you have some beau who wants the place? If it is, tell me. I +will withdraw in his favour. You must see that I can do no more," said +Caesar jokingly. + +"And how you would hate me then; if you had to give up being a Deputy on +my account!" + +"No." + +"You hate me already." + +"No. You are mistaken." "Yes. I believe if you could, you would strike +me." + +"No, the most I should do would be to shut you up in a dark room." + +"You are an odious, antipathetic man. I thought I rather liked you, but +I only hate you." + +"You know already, Amparito, that I am a candidate for Deputy, but not +one for you." + +"All right. All right. I don't wish to hear any more stupid remarks." + +"The stupid remarks are those you are making." + +And Caesar, who was beginning to feel angry, rebuked Amparito too +severely, for her coquetry, her bad intentions, and her desire to +humiliate and mortify people without any reason. + +Amparito listened to him, pale and panting. + +"And after all," said Caesar, "all this is nothing to me. If I am in +your family's way, or even in your way, I can go away from here, and all +is ended." + +"No, do not go away," murmured Amparito, raising her handkerchief to her +eyes and beginning to weep bitterly. + +Caesar felt deeply grieved; all his anger disappeared, and he stood +there, amazed, and not knowing what to do. + +"Do not cry," exclaimed Caesar; "what will they think of me? Come, don't +cry. It is childish." + +At that moment Amparito's father entered the gallery, and he came +running to the girl's side. + +"What have you done to my daughter?" he cried, approaching Caesar +threateningly. + +"I, nothing," he said. + +"You have. What has he done to you?" screamed the father. + +"Nothing, Papa. Do not shriek that way, for God's sake," moaned +Amparito; "I was entirely to blame." + +"If he..." + +"No, I tell you he hasn't done anything to me." + +Caesar, who had remained motionless in face of Amparito's father's +threatening attitude, turned on his heel, and went slowly out. THE +ETERNAL GAME OF DISDAIN + + +Caesar went back to the hotel, thinking very hard. Alzugaray asked him +what the matter was, and Caesar told his friend what had happened in +the gallery. On hearing the story Alzugaray assumed a look of deep +desolation. + +"I don't understand what is the matter with the girl, for her to show +such antipathy for me," Caesar concluded. + +"It is very simple," said Alzugaray, sadly; "the girl is interested in +you. The eternal game of disdain has produced its effect. She has seen +you show yourself indifferent toward her, speak curtly to her, and she +has gone on thinking more and more about you, and now she thinks of +nothing else. That is what has happened." + +"Bah! I don't believe it. You act as if this were in a novel." + +"It's no novel. It's the truth." + +The next day, when Caesar got up, the maid handed him two letters. One +was from Don Calixto and said that Seor Peribez accepted him as +candidate. It had been learned that the Duke of Castro Duro had married +his landlady in England; the arrangement with the Cuban gentleman was +impossible, and the poor Duke would definitely have to winter in Paris, +in the prison, along with the distinguished apaches, Bibi de Montmartre +and the Panther of the Batignolles. + +The other letter was from Amparito. + +Don Calixto's niece told him he mustn't believe that she hated him; if +she had said anything to him, it was without bad intention; she would be +very happy if all his projects were realized. + +Despite his ambitious plans and the desire he had that the question of +his candidacy should be definitely settled, Amparito's letter interested +him much more than Don Calixto's. + +A new, disturbing element was coming into his life, without any warning +and without any reason. He said nothing about Amparito's letter to his +friend Alzugaray. He felt him to be a rival, and in spite of having no +intentions of going further, the idea of rivalry between them troubled +him. He did not wish to offend him by taking the attitude of a lucky +man. + +He went out into the street and set off for a walk on the highway. + +"It is strange," he thought, "this coarse psychology, which proves that +a man and a woman, especially a woman, are not complex beings, but +stupidly simple. The complex thing in a woman is not the intelligence or +the soul, but instinct. Why does a woman rebuff a man who pleases her? +For the same reason that the female animal repulses the male, and at the +same time calls him to her. + +"And this instinctive love, this mixture of hatred and attraction, is +the curious thing, the enigmatic thing about human nature. The intellect +of each individual is, by contrast, so poor, so clear! + +"This girl, rich and attractive, flattered by everybody, is bored in +this town. She sees a man that doesn't pay attention to her, who is +after another goal, and simply for that reason she feels offended and +hunts out a way to mortify him, for her entertainment and for spite; and +when she finds that she doesn't succeed, she gets to thinking about him +all the time. + +"And this spite, this wounded vanity, is changed to an absorbing +interest. Why shouldn't that absorbing interest be called love? Yes, she +is in love, and finds great satisfaction in thinking so. + +"She is not an insignificant girl, daughter of a commonplace gentleman; +to herself, she is a romantic figure. She seems to be absorbed in +another, and what is really the case is that she is absorbed in herself. +How ridiculous this all is!... And this is life. Is the whole of life +nothing, in reality, but ridiculous?" + +Caesar returned home, and unknown to Alzugaray, wrote a letter to +Amparito. He put the letter into the box, and then went to call on Don +Calixto, and take leave of him. Don Calixto invited Caesar and Alzugaray +to dinner the next day, and there were the same guests as the first +time. + +The dinner was cold and ceremonious. Amparito was grave, like a +grown person. Scarcely speaking, she replied with discreet smiles to +Alzugaray's occasional phrases, but she was not in a humour to tease +anybody. + +The train started about the middle of the afternoon, and Don Calixto had +arranged to have the carriage got ready, and to accompany the travellers +to the station. + +Caesar was uneasy, thinking of the leave-taking. The moment for saying +good-bye to Amparito and her father, it seemed to him, would be a +difficult moment. Nevertheless, everything went off smoothly. The father +offered his hand, without grudge. Amparito blushed a little and said: + +"We shall see each other again, Moncada?" + +"Yes, I'm sure of it," replied Caesar; and the two friends and Don +Calixto took the carriage for the station. + +The two friends' return trip to Madrid was scarcely agreeable. Alzugaray +was offended at Caesar's personal success with Amparito; Caesar +understood his comrade's mental attitude and didn't know what to say or +do. + +To them both the journey seemed long and unpleasant, and when they +reached their destination, they were glad to separate. + + + + +VIII + +THE ELECTION + +WHAT THEY SAID IN THE TOWNS + + +A short while later the eventuality predicted by Caesar occurred. The +Liberal ministry met a crisis, and after various intermediate attempts +at mixed cabinets, the Conservatives came into power. + +Caesar had no need to insist with the Minister of the Interior. He was +one of the inevitable. He was pigeon-holed as an adherent, from the +first moment. + +The Government had given out the decree for the dissolution of the +Cortes in February and was preparing for the General Election in the +middle of April. + +Caesar would have gone immediately to Castro Duro, but he feared that if +he showed interest it would complicate the situation. There were a +lot of elements there, whose attitude it was not easy to foresee; Don +Platn's friends, Father Martin and his people, Amparito's father, the +friends of the opposing candidate, Garcia Padilla. Caesar thought it +better that they should consider him a young dandy with no further +ambition than to give himself airs, rather than a future master of the +town. + +He wrote to Don Calixto, and Don Calixto told him there was no hurry, +everything was in order; it would be sufficient for him to appear five +or six days before the election. + +Caesar was impatient to begin his task, and it occurred to him that he +might visit the towns that made up the district, without saying anything +to anybody or making himself known. The excursion commenced at the +beginning of the month of April. He left the train at a station before +Castro. He bought a horse and went about through the towns. Nobody in +the villages knew that there was going to be an election; such things +made no difference to anybody. + +After the inauguration of a new Government there was a little revolution +in each village, produced by the change of the town-council and by the +distribution of all the jobs that were municipal spoils, which passed +from the hands of those calling themselves Liberals to the hands of +those calling themselves Conservatives. + +Caesar discovered that besides the Liberal Garca Padilla, there was +another candidate, protected by Father Martin La-fuerza; but it looked +as if the Clericals were going to abandon him. In a town named Val de +San Gil, the schoolmaster explained to him, with some fantastic details, +the politics of Don Calixto. The schoolmaster was a Liberal and a frank, +brusque, intelligent man, but he formed his judgment of Don Calixto's +politics on the prejudices of a Republican paper in Madrid, which was +the only one he read. + +According to him, Seor Moncada, whom nobody knew, was nothing more +than a figure-head for the Jesuits. Father Martin Lafuerza was getting +possession of too much land in Castro, and wanted everything to belong +to his monastery. The Jesuits had learned of this and were sending young +Moncada to undo the Franciscan friar's combinations and establish the +reign of the Loyolists. + +In another place, named Villavieja, Caesar found that the four or five +persons interested in Castrian politics were against him. It seemed that +the Conservative candidate they wanted was the one protected by Father +Martin, who had promised them results greatly to their advantage. + +In general, the people in the towns were not up on politics; when Caesar +asked them what they thought about the different questions that interest +a country, they shrugged their shoulders. + +In the outlying hamlets they didn't know either who the king was or what +his name was. + +The only way in which the trip was of service to the future candidate +was by giving him an idea of how elections were carried on, by teaching +him who carried the returns to Don. Calixto, and showing him which of +these people could be warranted to be honourable and which were rascals. + + +INDIFFERENCE IN CASTRO + + +Three days before the election Caesar appeared in Castro and went to +stay at Don Calixto's house. Nobody knew about his expedition in the +environs. There were no preparations whatever. People said they were +going to change Deputies; but really this was of no great moment in the +life of the town. + +Saturday night the party committee met in the Casino at seven. Caesar +arrived a few minutes early; no one was there. He was shown into a +shabby salon, lighted by an oil lamp. + +It was cold in the room, and Caesar walked about while he waited. On the +ceiling a complete canopy of spider-webs, like dusty silver, trembled in +every draught. + +At half-past eight the first members of the committee arrived; the +others kept on coming lazily in. Each one had some pretext to excuse his +being late. + +The fact was that the matter interested nobody; the politics of the +district were going to go on as formerly, and really it wasn't worth +while thinking about. Caesar was a decorative figure with no background. + +At nine all the members of the committee were in the Casino. Don Calixto +made a speech which he prolonged in an alarming manner. Caesar answered +him in another speech, which was heard with absolute coldness. + +Then a frantic gabbling let loose; everybody wanted to talk. They +abandoned themselves fruitfully to distinctions. "If it is certain +that....Although it is true....Not so much because ..." and they +eulogized one another as orators, with great gravity. + +The next day, Sunday, the proclamation of the candidates took place. +They were three: Moncada, Governmental; Garcia Padilla, Liberal; and San +Romn, Republican. + +San Romn was the old Republican bookseller; it was sure beforehand that +he couldn't win, but it suited Caesar that he should run, so that the +Workmen's Club elements should not vote for the Liberal candidate. + +Two days before the election Caesar went to Cidones and entered the Caf +Espaol. + +He asked for Uncle Chinaman, and told him that he was the future Deputy. +Uncle Chinaman recognized the young man with whom he had talked some +months previous in his caf, he remembered him with pleasure, and +received him with great demonstrations. + +"Man," Caesar said to him, "I want you to do me a favour." + +"Only tell me." + +"It is a question about the election." + +"Good. Let's hear what it is." + +"There are several towns where Padilla's adherents are ready, after +the count, to change the real returns for forged ones. Everything is +prepared for it. As I have sent people to their voting-places, they +intend to make the change on the road, taking the returns from the +messengers and giving them forged ones instead. I want twenty or thirty +reliable men to send, four by four, to accompany the messengers that +come with the returns, or else to carry them themselves." + +"All right, I will get them for you," said Uncle Chinaman. + +"How much money do you need?" + +"Twenty dollars will do me." + +"Take forty." + +"All right. Which towns are they?" + +Caesar told him the names of the towns where he feared substitution. +Then he warned him: + +"You will say nothing about this." + +"Nothing." + +Caesar gave precise instructions to the landlord of the caf, and on +bidding Uncle Chinaman good-bye, he told him: + +"I know already that you are really on my side." + +"You believe so?" + +"Yes." On Sunday the elections began with absolute inanimation. In +the city the Republicans were getting the majority, especially in the +suburbs. Padilla was far behind. Nevertheless, it was said at the Casino +that it was possible Padilla would finally win the election, because he +might have an overwhelming majority in five or six rural wards. + +At four in the afternoon the results in the city gave the victory to +Moncada. Next to him came San Romn, and in the last place Padilla. + +The returns began to come in from the villages. In all of them the +results were similar. It was found that the official element voted +for the Government candidate, and those who had been attached to the +preceding town-council for the Liberal. + +At eight in the evening the returns arrived from the first village where +Padilla expected a victory. The messenger, surrounded by four men from +Cidones, was in a terrified condition. He handed over the returns and +left. The result was the same as in all the other rural districts. + +In one village alone, the presiding officer had been able to evade the +vigilance of the guards sent by Caesar and Uncle Chinaman, and change +the number of votes in the returns; but despite this, the election was +won for Caesar. + +The next day the exact result of the election was known. It stood: + +Moncada, 3705. Garca Padilla, 1823. San Romn, 750. + +When it was known that Caesar had played a trick on his enemies under +their noses, he came into great estimation. + +The judge said: + +"I believe you were all deceived. You supposed Don Caesar to be a +sucking dove, and he is going to turn out to be a vulture for us." + +Caesar listened to felicitations and accepted congratulations smiling, +and some days later returned to Madrid. + + + + +IX + +CAESAR AS DEPUTY + +TRIPPING THEM UP + + +People who didn't know Caesar intimately used to ask one another: "What +purpose could Moncada have had in getting elected Deputy? He never +speaks, he takes no part in the big debates." + +His name appeared from time to time on some committee about Treasury +affairs; but that was all. + +His life was completely veiled; he was not seen at first nights, or in +salons, or on the promenade; he was a man apparently forgotten, lost +to Madrid life. Sometimes on coming out of the Chamber he would see +Amparito in an automobile; she would look for him with her eyes, and +smile; he would take his hat off ostentatiously, with a low bow. + +Among a very small number of persons Caesar had the reputation of an +intelligent and dangerous man. They suspected him of great personal +ambition. It would not have been logical to think that this cold +unexpansive man was, in his heart, a patriot who felt Spain's decadence +deeply and was seeking the means to revive her. + +"No pleasures, no middle-class satisfactions," he thought; "but to live +for a patriotic ideal, to shove Spain forward, and to form with the +flesh of one's native land a great statue which should be her historic +monument." + +That was his plan. In Congress Caesar kept silence; but he talked in +the corridors, and his ironic, cold, dispassionate comments began to be +quoted. + +He had formed relations with the Minister of the Treasury, a man who +passed for famous and was a mediocrity, passed for honourable and was a +rogue. Caesar was much in his company. + +The famous financier realized that Moncada knew far more than he did +about monetary questions, and among his friends he admitted it; but he +gave them to understand that Caesar was only a theorist, incapable of +quick decision and action. + +Caesar's friendship was a convenience to the Minister, and the +Minister's to Caesar. In his heart the Minister hated Caesar, and Caesar +felt a deep contempt for the famous financier. + +Nobody seeing them in a carriage talking affectionately together could +have imagined that there existed such an amount of hatred and hostility +between them. + +The majority of people, with an absolute want of perspicacity, believed +Caesar to be fascinated by the Minister's brilliant intellect; but there +were persons that understood the situation of the pair and who used to +say: + +"Moncada has an influence over the Minister like that of a priest over a +family." + +And there was some truth in it. + +Caesar carried his experimental method over from the stock exchange into +politics. He kept a note-book, in which he put down all data about the +private lives of Ministers and Deputies, and he filed these papers after +classifying them. + +Castro Duro began to be aware of Caesar's exertions. The secretary of +the municipality, the employees, all who were friends and adherents to +the boss's group that Don Platn belonged with, began by degrees to +leave Castro. + +Those who had lost their jobs, and their protectors too, began to write +letters and more letters to the Deputy. At first they believed that +Caesar wasn't interested; but they were soon able to understand at +Castro that he was interested enough, but not in them. The Minister of +the Treasury served him as a battering-ram to use against the Clericals +at Castro Duro. + +Don Calixto was inwardly rejoiced to see his rivals reduced to +impotency. + +Caesar began to establish political relations with the Republican +bookseller and his friends. When he began to perceive that he was making +headway with the Liberal and Labour element, he started without delay to +set mines under Don Calixto's terrain. The judge, who was a friend of +Don Calixto's, was transferred; so were some clerks of the court; and +the Count of la Sauceda, the famous boss, was soon able to realize that +his protg was firing against him. + +"I have nourished a serpent in my bosom," said Don Calixto; "but I know +how I can grind its head." + +He could not have been very sure of his strength; for Don Calixto found +himself in a position where he had to beg for quarter. Caesar conceded +it, on the understanding that Don Calixto would not take any more part +in Castro politics. + +"You people had the power and you didn't use it very well for the town. +Now just leave it to me." + +In exchange for Don Calixto's surrender, Caesar agreed to have his Papal +title legalized. + +At the end of a year and a half Caesar had all the bosses of Castro in +his fist. + +"Suppressing the bosses in the district was easy," Caesar used to say; +"I managed to have one make all the others innocuous, and then I made +that one, who was Don Calixto, innocuous and gave him a title." + +Caesar did not forget or neglect the least detail. He listened to +everybody that talked to him, even though they had nothing but nonsense +to say; he always answered letters, and in his own handwriting. + +With the townpeople he used the tactics of knowing all their names, +especially the old folks', and for this purpose he carried a little +note-book. He wrote down, for example: "Seor Ramn, was in the Carlist +war; Uncle Juan, suffers with rheumatism." + +When, by means of his notes, he remembered these details, it produced +an extraordinary effect on people. Everybody considered himself the +favourite. + + +CAESAR'S MANNER OF LIVING + +Caesar lived simply; he had a room in an hotel in the Carrera de San +Jernimo, where he received calls; but nobody ever found him there +except in business hours. + +He used to go now and then to Alzugaray's house, where he would talk +over various matters with his friend's mother and sister; he would find +out about everything, and go away after giving them advice on questions +of managing their money, which they almost always observed and followed. + +Of all people, Ignacio Alzugaray was the most incredulous in regard +to his friend; his mother and his sister believed in Caesar as in an +oracle. Caesar often thought that he ought to fall definitely in love +with Ignacio's sister and marry her; but neither he nor she seemed to +have set upon passing the limits of a cordial friendship. + +Caesar told the Alzugaray family how he lived and caused them to laugh +and wonder. + +He had rented a fairly large upper story in a street in Valle Hermoso, +for five dollars. The days he had nothing to do he went there. He put +on an old, worn-out fur coat, which was still a protection, a soft hat, +took a stick, and went walking in the environs. + +His favourite walk was the neighbourhood of the Canalillo and of the +Dehesa de Amaniel. + +Generally he went out of his house on the side opposite the Model +Prison, then he walked toward Moncloa, and taking the right, passed near +the Rubio Institute, and entered the Cerro del Pimiento by an open lot +which he got into through a broken wall. + +From there one could see, far away, the Guadarrama range, like a curtain +of blue mountains and snowy crests; on clear days, the Escorial; +Aravaca, the Casa de Campo, and the Sierra de Gredos, which ran out on +the left hand like a promontory. Nearby one saw a pine grove, close to +the Rubio Institute, and a valley containing market-gardens, and the +ranges of the Moncloa shooting school. + +Caesar would walk on by the winding road, and stop to look at the +Cemetery of San Martn on the right, with its black cypresses and its +yellowish walls. + +Then he would follow the twists of the Canalillo, and pass in front of +the third Reservoir, to the Amaniel road. + +That was where Caesar would have built himself a house, had he had the +idea of living retired. + +The dry, hard landscape was the kind he liked. The mornings were +wonderful, the blue sky radiant, the air limpid and thin. + +The twilight had an extraordinary enchantment. All that vast extent of +land, the mountains, the hills of the Casa de Campo, the cypresses of +the cemetery, were bathed in a violet light. + +In winter there were hunters of yellow-hammers and goldfinches in these +regions, who set their nets and their decoys on the ground, and spent +hours and hours watching for their game. + +On Sunday, in particular, the number of hunters was very large. They +went in squads of three; one carried a big bundle on his shoulder, which +was the net all rolled up; another the decoy cages, fastened with a +strap; and the third a frying-pan, a skin of wine, and some kindling for +a fire. + +Caesar used to talk with the guards at Amaniel, with the +octroi-officers, and he got to be great friends with a little hunchback, +a bird hunter. + +It was curious to hear this hunchback talk of the habits of the birds +and of the influence of the winds. He knew how the gold-finches, +yellow-hammers, and linnets make their nests, and the preference some of +them have for coltsfoot cotton, and others for wool or for cow's hair. +He told Caesar a lot of things, many of which could have existed only in +his imagination, but which were entertaining. + + +ONE DAY AT CHRISTMASTIME + + +One day at Christmastime Alzugaray went in the morning to look for +Caesar. He knew where to find him and walked direct to the Calle de +Galileo. At the house, they told him that Caesar was eating in a tavern +close at hand. + +Alzugaray went into the place and found his friend the Deputy seated +in a coner eating. He had the appearance of a superior workman, an +electrician, carver, or something of the sort. + +"If people find out you behave so extravagantly, they will think you are +crazy," said Alzugaray. + +"Pshaw! Nobody comes here," replied Caesar. "The political world and +this are separate worlds. This one belongs to the people who have to +shoulder the load of everything, and the other is a world of villains, +robbers, idiots, and fools. Really, it is difficult to find anything +so vile, so inept, and so useless as a Spanish politician. The Spanish +middle class is a warren of rogues and villains. I feel an enormous +repugnance to brushing against it. That is why I came here now and then +to talk to these people; not because these are good, no; the first and +the last of them are riff-raff, but at least they say what they mean and +they blaspheme navely." + +"What are you going to do after lunch?" Alzugaray asked him. "Have you +got a sweetheart in one of the old-clothes shops of the quarter?" + +"No. I was thinking of taking a walk; that's all." + +"Then come along." + +They left the tavern and went along a street between sides of sand cut +straight down, and started up the Cerro del Pimiento. The soft, vague +mist allowed the Guadarrama to stand out visible. + +"This landscape enchants me," said Caesar. + +"It seems hard and gloomy," responded Alzugaray. + +"Yes, that is true; hard and gloomy, but noble. When one is drenched +with a miserable political life, when one actually forms a part of +that Olympus of madmen called Congress, one needs to be purified. How +miserable, how vile that political life is! How many faces pale with +envy there are! What low and repugnant hatreds! When I come out +nauseated by seeing those people; when I am soaked with repugnance, then +I come out here to walk, I look at those serious mountains, so frowning +and strong, and the mere sight of them seems like a purifying flame +which cleanses me from meanness." + +"I see that you are as absurd as ever, Caesar. It would never occur to +anybody to come and comfort himself with some melancholy mountains, out +here between an abandoned hospital, which looks like a leper-asylum, and +a deserted cemetery." + +"Well, these mountains give me an impression of energy and nobility, +which raises my spirits. This leper-asylum, as you call it, sunken in a +pit, this deserted cemetery, those distant mountains, are my friends; +I imagine they are saying to me: 'One must be hard, one must be strong +like us, one must live in solitude....'" + +They did not continue their walk much further, because the night and +the fog combined made it difficult to see the path along the +Canalillo, which made it possible to fall in, and that would have been +disagreeable. + +They returned the way they had come. From the top of a hill they saw +Madrid in the twilight, covered with fog; and in the streets newly +opened between the sides of sand, the lights of the gas-lamps sparkled +in a nimbus of rainbow.... + + + + +X + +POLITICAL LABOURS + +MONEY ON THE EXCHANGE + + +Although Caesar did not distinguish himself especially in Congress, he +worked hard. His activities were devoted mainly to two points: the stock +exchange and Castro Duro. + +Caesar had found a partner to play the market for him, a Bilboan +capitalist, whom he had convinced of the correctness of his system. +Seor Salazar had deposited, in Caesar's name, thirty thousand dollars. +With this sum Caesar played for millions and he was drawing an +extraordinary dividend from his stocks. + +Their operations were made in the name of Alzugaray, whose job it was +to go every month to see the broker, and to sign and collect the +certificates. Caesar gave his orders by telephone, and Alzugaray +communicated them to the broker. + +Alzugaray often went to see Caesar and said to him: + +"The broker came to my house terrified, to tell me that what we are +going to do is an absurdity." + +"Let it alone," Caesar would say. "You know our agreement. You get +ten percent of the profits for giving the orders. Do not mix in any +further." + +Often, on seeing the positive result of Caesar's speculations, Alzugaray +would ask him: + +"Do you find out at the Ministry what is going to happen?" + +"Pshaw!" Caesar would say; "the market is not a capricious thing, as you +think. There are signs. I pay attention to a lot of facts, which give +me indications: coupons, the amount shares advance, the calculation of +probabilities; and I compare all these scientific data with empirical +observations that are difficult to explain. In such a situation, events +are what make the least difference to me. Is there going to be a +revolution or a Carlist war?...I am careless about it." + +"But this is impossible," Alzugaray used to say. "Excuse me for saying +so, but I don't believe you. You have some secret, and that is what +helps you." + +"How fantastic you all are!"' Caesar would exclaim; "you refuse to +believe in the rational, and still you believe in the miraculous." + +"No, I do not believe in the, miraculous; but I cannot explain your +methods." + +"That's clear! Am I to explain them to you! When you don't know the +mechanism of the market! I am certain that you have never considered the +mechanism of the rise produced by the reintegration of the coupon, or +the way that rise is limited to double its value. Tell me. Do you know +what that means?" + +"No." + +"Well, then, how are you to understand anything?" + +"All right, then; explain it to me." + +"There's no difficulty. You know that the natural tendency of the market +is to rise." + +"To rise and to fall," interrupted Alzugaray. + +"No, only to rise." + +"I don't see it." + +"The general tendency of the market is to rise, because having to fall +eighty _cntimos_, the value of the coupon, every quarter, if the market +didn't rise to offset that loss, shares would reach zero...." + +"I don't understand," said Alzugaray. + +"Imagine a man on a stairway; if you oblige him to go down one step +every so often, in order to keep in the same place as before he will +necessarily have to go up again, because if he didn't do so, he would be +constantly approaching the front door." + +"Yes, surely." "Well, this man on the stairway is the quotation, and the +mechanical task of constantly making up for the quarterly loss is what +is called the reintegration of the coupon." + +"You do not convince me." + +Alzugaray didn't like listening to these explanations. He had formed +an opinion that had not much foundation, but he would not admit that +Caesar, by reasoning, could arrive at the glimmering of an inductive and +deductive method, where others saw no more than chance. + + +CAESAR BEGINS HIS TASK + + +With the money he made on the market, Caesar was making himself the +master of Castro Duro. He constantly assumed a more Liberal attitude in +the Chamber, and was in a position to abandon the Conservative majority, +on any pretext. + +His plan of campaign at Castro Duro corresponded to this political +position of his: he had rehabilitated the Workmen's Club and paid its +debts. The Club had been founded by the workmen of a thread factory, +now shut. The number of members was very small and the labourers and +employees of the railway and some weavers were its principal support. + +On learning that it was about to be closed for lack of funds, Caesar +promised to support it. He thought of endowing the Club with a library, +and installing a school in the country. On seeing that the Deputy was +patronizing the Club, a lot of labourers of all kinds joined it. A new +governing board was named, of which Caesar was honourary president, and +the Workmen's Club re-arose from its ashes. The Republicans and the +little group of Socialists, almost all weavers, were on Caesar's side +and promised to vote for him in the coming election. + +Various Republicans who went to Madrid to call on Caesar, told him +he ought to come out as a Republican. They would vote for him with +enthusiasm. + +"No; why should I?" Caesar used to answer. "Are we going to do any more +at Castro by my being a Republican than when I am not one? Besides the +fact that I should not be elected on that ticket and should thus have no +further influence, to me the forms of a government are indifferent; +I don't even care whether it has a true ideal or a false one. What I +do want is for the town to progress; whether by means of a dream or +by means of a reality. A politician should seek for efficiency before +asking anything else, and at present the Republican dream would not be +efficient at Castro." + +Most of the Republicans did not go away very well satisfied with what +Caesar had said; and after leaving him, they would say: + +"He is a very curious person, but he favours us and we'll have to follow +him." + +The reopening of the Workmen's Club in Castro was the chance for an +event. Caesar was in favour of inaugurating the Club without any +celebration, without attracting the attention of the Clericals; but the +members of the Club, on the contrary, wished to give the reactionaries a +dose to swallow, and Caesar could not but promise his participation in +the inauguration. + +"Would you like to come to Castro?" Caesar said to Alzugaray. + +"What are you going to do there?" + +"We are going to open a Club." + +"Are you going to speak?" + +"Yes." + +"All right. Let's go, so that I can hear you. Probably you will do it +badly enough." + +"It's possible." + +"And what you say won't please anybody." + +"That's possible, too. But that makes no difference. You will come?" + +"Yes. Will there be picturesque speakers?" + +"There are some, but they are not going to speak. There is one, Uncle +Chinaman, who is a marvel. In describing the actual condition of Spain, +he once uttered this authoritative phrase: 'Clericalism in the zenith, +immorality in high places, the debt floating more every day,...'" + +"That's very good." "It certainly is. He made another happy phrase, +criticizing the Spanish administration. 'For what reason do they write +so many useless papers?' he said. 'So that rats, the obscene reptiles, +can go on eating them....'" + +"That's very good too." + +"He is a man without any education, but very intelligent. So you are +going to come?" + +"Yes." + +"Then we will meet at the station." + + +CAN ONE CHANGE OR NOT? + + +They took the train at night and they chatted as they went along in it. +Caesar explained to Alzugaray the difficulties he had had to overcome +in order that the Workmen's Club could be reinstituted, and went on +detailing his projects for the future. + +"Do you believe the town is going to be transformed?" asked Alzugaray. + +"Yes, certainly!" said Caesar, staring at his friend. + +"So then, you, a Darwinist who hold it as a scientific doctrine +that only the slow action of environment can transform species and +individuals, believe that a poor worn-out, jog-trotting race is going +to revive suddenly, in a few years! Can a Darwinist believe in a +revolutionizing miracle?" + +"Previously, no; but now he can." + +"My dear fellow! How so?" + +"Haven't you read anything about the experiments of the Dutch botanist +Hugo de Vries?" + +"No." + +"Well, his experiments have proved that there are certain vegetable +species which, all at once, without any preparation, without anything +to make you expect it, change type absolutely and take on other +characters." + +"The devil! That really is extraordinary." + +"Vries verified this rapid transformation first in a plant named +OEnotheria Lamarckiana, which, all of a sudden, with no influence from +the environment, with nothing to justify it, at times changes and +metamorphosizes itself into a different plant." + +"But this transformation may be due to a disease," said Alzugaray. + +"No, because the mutation, after taking place, persists from generation +to generation, not with pathological characteristics, but with +completely normal ones." + +"It is most curious." + +"These experiments have produced Neo-Darwinism. The Neo-Darwinists, with +Hugo de Vries at their head, believe that species are not generally +gradually transformed, but that they produce new forms in a sudden, +brusque way, having children different from the fathers. And if such +brusque variations can take place in a characteristic so fixed as +physiological form, what may not happen in a thing so unstable as the +manner of thinking? Thus, it is very possible that the men of the +Italian Renaissance or the French Revolution were mentally distinct from +their predecessors and their successors, and they may even have been +organically distinct." + +"But this overthrows the whole doctrine of evolution," said Alzugaray. + +"No. The only thing it has done is to distinguish two forms of change: +one, the slow variation already verified by everybody, the other the +brusque variation pointed out by Hugo de Vries. We see now that the +impulses, which in politics are called evolution and revolution, are +only reflexions of Nature's movements." + +"So then, we may hope that Castro Duro will change into an Athens?" +asked Alzugaray. + +"We may hope so," said Caesar. + +"All right, let's hope sleeping." + +They ordered the porter to prepare two berths in the car, and they both +lay down. + + +THE RECEPTION + + +In the morning Caesar went to the dressing-room, and a short while later +came back clean and dressed up as if he were at a ball. + +"How spruce you are!" Alzugaray said to him. + +"Yes, that's because they will come to receive me at the station." + +"Honestly?" + +"Yes." + +"Ha...ha...ha...!" laughed Alzugaray. + +"What are you laughing at?" asked Caesar, smiling. + +"At your having arranged a reception and brought me along for a +witness." + +"No, man, no," said Caesar; "I have arranged nothing. The workmen of the +Club will come down out of gratitude." + +"Ah, that's it! Then there will be only a few." + +At this juncture the car door opened and a man in the dirty clothes of a +mechanic appeared. + +"Don Caesar Moncada?" he inquired. + +"What is it?" said Caesar. + +"I belong to the Castro Workmen's Club and I have come to welcome you +ahead of anybody else," and he held out his hand. "Greetings!" + +"Greetings! Regards to the comrades," said Caesar, shaking his hand. + +"Damn it, what enthusiasm!" murmured Alzugaray. + +The employee disappeared. On arriving at the station, Alzugaray looked +out the window and saw with astonishment that the platform was full of +people. + +As the car entered the covered area of the station, noisy applause broke +out. Caesar opened the door and took off his hat courteously. + +"Hurrah for Moncada! Hurrah for the Deputy from Castro! Hurrah for +liberty!" they heard the shouts. + +Caesar got out of the car, followed by Alzugaray, and found himself +surrounded by a lot of people. There were some workmen and peasants, but +the majority were comfortable citizens. + +They all crowded around to grasp his hand. + +Surrounded by this multitude, they left the station. There Caesar took +leave of all his acquaintances and got into a carriage with Alzugaray, +while hurrahs and applauses resounded. + +"Eh? What did you think of the reception?" asked Caesar. + +"Magnificent, my boy!" + +"You can't say I behaved like a demagogue." + +"On the contrary, you were too distant." + +"They know I am like that and it doesn't astonish them." + +Caesar had a rented house in Castro and the two friends went to it. +All morning and part of the afternoon committees kept coming from the +villages, who wanted to talk with Caesar and consult him about the +affairs of their respective municipalities. + + +INAUGURATION OF THE CLUB + + +In the evening the Workmen's Club was inaugurated. Nobody in Castro +talked of anything else. The Clerical element had advised all religious +persons to stay away from the meeting. + +The large hall of the Club was profusely lighted; and by half-past six +was already completely full. + +At seven the ceremony began. The president of the Club, a printer, +spoke, and told of Caesar's benefactions; then the Republican +bookseller, San Romn, give a discourse; and after him Caesar took up +the tale. + +He explained his position in the Chamber in detail. The people listened +with some astonishment, doubtless wishing to find an opportune occasion +for applause, and not finding it. + +Some of the old men put their hands to their ears, like a shell, so as +to hear better. + +Next, Caesar spoke about life in Castro, and pointed out the town's +needs. + +"You have here," he said, "three fundamental problems, as is the case +with almost all towns in the interior of Spain. First: water. You have +neither good drinking water, nor enough water for irrigation. For +want of drinkable water, the mortality of Castro is high; for want of +irrigation, you cannot cultivate more than a very small zone, under +good conditions. For that reason water must be brought here, and an +irrigation canal begun. Second problem: subsistence. Here, as in the +whole of Castile, there are people who corner the grain market and raise +the price of wheat, and people who corner the necessities of life and +put up their prices as high as they feel like. To prevent this, it is +necessary for the Municipality to establish a public granary which shall +regulate prices. For, want of that, the people are condemned to hunger, +and people that do not eat can neither work nor be free. Third problem: +means of transport. You have the railway here, but you have neither good +highways nor good byways, and transportation is most difficult. I, +for my part, will do all I can to keep the federal government +from neglecting this region, but we must also stir up the little +municipalities to take care of their roads. + +"These three are questions that must be settled as soon as possible. + +"Water, subsistence, transportation; those are not matters of luxury, +but of necessity, matters of life. They belong to what may be called the +politics of bread. + +"I cannot make the reforms alone; first, because I have not the means; +next, because even supposing I had, if I must leave these improvements +in a township that would not look after them, not take care of them, +they would soon disappear; they would be like the canals dug by the +Moors and afterwards allowed to fill up through the neglect of +the Christians. That is what politics are needed for, to convince +reactionaries. + +"At the same time, looking toward the future, let us start the school, +which I should like to see not merely a primary school, but also a +school for working-men. + +"Let us endeavour, too, to turn the field of San Roque into a park." + +After explaining his program, Caesar called on all progressive men who +had liberal ideas and loved their city, to collaborate in his work. + +When he ended his speech, all the audience applauded violently. +Alzugaray was able to verify the fact that the majority of them had not +understood what Caesar was saying. "They didn't understand anything. A +few sparkling phrases would have pleased them much better." + +"Ah, of course. But that makes no difference," replied Caesar. "They +will get used to it." + +The inauguration over, the bookseller, San Romn, Dr. Ortigosa, Seor +Camacho, who was the pharmacist that called himself an inventor of +explosives, and some others, met in the office of the Club, and talked +with great enthusiasm of the transformation that was obviously taking +place at Castro. + + + + +XI + +THE PITFALL OF SINIGAGLIA + +A COMMISSION FOR THE MINISTER + + +A few days later, during Carnival, the Minister of the Treasury +presented himself at Caesar's hotel. The famous financier was a trifle +nervous. + +"Come along with me," he said. + +"Come on." + +They got into a motor, and the Minister suddenly asked: + +"Could you go to Paris immediately?" + +"There's nothing to prevent. What is it to do?" + +"You know that the great financier Dupont de Sarthe is studying out a +plan for restoring the value of the currency of Spain." + +"Yes." + +"Well, today the Speaker asked me several times if it was ready. It is +necessary for me to introduce it soon, as soon as possible, and along +with the plan for restoring the currency, one for the suppression of the +government tax." + +"The Speaker wishes to have these plans introduced?" + +"Yes, he wishes them introduced at once." + +"That indicates that the Conservative situation is very strong," said +Caesar. + +"Obviously." + +"And what do you want me to do?" + +"Go to Dupont de Sarthe and have him explain his scheme clearly, and +tell you the difficulties; if he has an outline of it, have him give it +to you; if not, have him give you his notes." + +"All right. Shall I go tonight?" + +"If you can, it would be the best thing." "There's nothing to prevent. +Take me back to the hotel and I will pack." + +The Minister told the chauffeur to go back to Caesar's house. + +"As soon as you arrive, let me know by wire, and write to me explaining +the scheme in the greatest possible detail." + +"Very good." + +"You will need money; I don't know if I have any here," said the +Minister, feeling for his pocket-book. + +"I have enough for the trip," replied Caesar. "But, as I might need some +in Paris, it would not be a bad idea for you to open an account for me +at a bank there, or else to give me a cheque." + +The Minister vacillated, then went into the hotel writing-room and +signed a cheque on a Parisian banker in the Rue de Provence, which he +handed to Caesar. + +"See you on your return," he said. + +"Good-bye." + +Caesar called a servant and bade him: + +"Telephone to my friend Alzugaray. You know his number. Tell him to be +here inside an hour." + +"Very good, sir." + +This arranged, Caesar went to the main door and saw that the Minister's +motor was headed for down town. Immediately he took a carriage and went +to the Chamber. The undersecretary of the Speaker was a friend of his; +sometimes he gave him advice about playing the market. + +Caesar looked him up, and when he found him, said: + +"How are we getting on?" + +"All right, man," replied the undersecretary. + +"Come over here, so I can see you in the light," said Caesar, and taking +him by the hand, he looked into his eyes. + +"It's true," said the undersecretary, laughing, "that the situation is +not very strong." + +"What is the danger?" + +"The only danger is your friend, the famous financier. He is the one who +could play us a dirty trick." + +"Do you suspect what it could be?" "No. Not clearly. You must know +better than any one else." + +"I have just seen the Minister, and he gave me the impression of being +satisfied." + +"Then everything is all right. But I haven't much confidence." + +Caesar left the undersecretary, went out of the Chamber, and returned +home in the carriage. Alzugaray was waiting in the entry for him. + +Caesar called to him from the carriage: + +"I am going to Paris," he told him, "to spend a few days." + +"Good." + +"I must draw out what money I have in the Bank." + +"Let's go there now." + +They went to the Bank, to the paying teller, and Caesar drew out twenty +thousand pesetas of his few months' winnings on the market. + +"You are not going to play at all, this month?" asked Alzugaray. + +"No, not this month." + +They left the Bank. + +"I will wire you my address in Paris," said Caesar. + +"Very good. And nothing is to be done?" + +"No. That is to say, my partner and I are not going to play. +Nevertheless, I am going to leave you two thousand pesetas, and if you +think well, you can use it as you choose." + +"All right," said Alzugaray, pleased at Caesar's confidence in his +talents for speculation. + +"In case I need any information which had best not be public," Caesar +went on, "I will wire you in code. Do you know the Aran code?" + +"No." + +"I will give it to you, directly, at my house. If you receive a telegram +from me from Paris, beginning with your name: 'Ignacio, do thus or so,' +you will know it is in the code." + +"I follow you. What's up?" + +"An affair the Minister is putting through, which we will not let him +pull off without getting our share out of him. I will explain it to you, +when I come back." + +"How long do you expect to be there?" + +"Two weeks at most; but perhaps I'll come right back." + + +INDUCTION + + +On arriving at the train, Caesar bought all the evening papers. In one +of them he found an article entitled: _The Projects of the Minister of +Finance_, and he read it carefully. + +The writer said that the Minister of Finance had never been so closely +identified with the Conservative Cabinet as at that moment; that he +had plans for a number of projects for the salvation of the Spanish +Treasury, which he would briefly explain. + +"It's a witty joke," thought Caesar. + +He was too well acquainted with the market and monetary affairs in +general, too well acquainted with the sterling worth of the famous +financier not to understand the idea of his scheme. + +Caesar knew that the Minister not only was not on good terms with his +colleagues in the Government, but was at sword's points with them, and +was moreover disposed to give up his portfolio from one day to the next. + +Whence came this haste to launch the plan for the suppression of the +government tax and restoring the value of the currency? Why did he send +him, Caesar, on this errand, and not somebody in the Department? + +His haste to launch the plan was easy to comprehend. + +The Minister was about to give a decisive impulse to all stocks; the +suppression of the affidavit and the restoring the value of the currency +would shove up domestic paper in Spain and foreign stocks in France to +extraordinary heights. Then a difficulty with the Speaker, a moment of +anger, such as was to be expected in a character like the Minister's, +would oblige him to offer his resignation ... prices would take a +terrible drop, and the Minister, having already planned for a big bear +scoop in Paris, would clear some hundreds of thousands of francs and +keep his reputation as a patriot and an excellent financier. + +Why was he sending Caesar? No doubt because he suspected his secretary, +whom he had probably given similar missions to previously. + +Caesar knew the Minister well. He had described him in his notes in +these words: "He is dark and brachicephalic; a man of tradition and +good common sense; average intellect, astute, a good father and a good +Catholic. He believes himself cleverer than he really is. His two +leading passions are vanity and money." + +Caesar knew the Minister, but the Minister did not know Caesar. He +imagined him to be a man of brilliant intellect, but incapable of +grasping realities. + +After thinking a long while over the business, while he was undressing +to go to bed in the sleeping-car, Caesar said: + +"There is only one thing to find out. Who is the Minister's broker in +Paris, and who is his banker? With Yarza's assistance that is not going +to be difficult for me to ascertain. When we know what broker he works +through and what banker, the affair is finished." + +Having concluded thus, he got into his berth, put out the light, and lay +there dozing. + + +IN PARIS + + +On arriving at Paris next evening, he left his luggage in the hotel at +the Quai d'Orsay station. He wired his address to the Minister and to +Alzugaray, and went out at once to look for Carlos Yarza. He was unable +to find him until very late at night. He explained to his friend what +had brought him, and Yarza told him he was at his disposition. + +"When you need me, let me know." + +"Good." + +Caesar went off to bed, and the next morning he proceeded to the +banking-house in the Rue de Provence where he was to cash the cheque +handed him by the Minister of the Treasury. + +He entered the bank and asked for the president. A clerk came out and +Caesar explained to him that on arriving at his hotel he had missed a +cheque for three thousand francs from the Spanish Minister of Finance. +He introduced himself as a Deputy, as an intimate friend of the +Minister's, and behaved as if much vexed. The department manager told +him that they could do no more than take the number and not pay the +cheque if anybody presented it for payment. + +"You don't handle the Minister's business here?" asked Caesar. + +"No, only very rarely," said the manager. + +"You don't know who his regular banker is?" + +"No; I will ask, because it is very possible that the chief may know." + +The clerk went out and came back a little later, informing Caesar that +they said the house the Spanish Minister of Finance did his banking with +was Recquillart and Company, Rue Bergre. + +The street was near at hand, and it took Caesar only a very little while +to get there. The building was dark, lighted by electricity even in the +daytime, one of those classic corners where Jewish usurers amass great +fortunes. + +There was no question of employing the same ruse as in the Rue de +Provence, and Caesar thought of another. + +He asked for M. Recquillart, and out came a heavy gentleman, a blond +going grey, with a rosy cranium and gold eyeglasses. + +Caesar told him he was secretary to a rich Spanish miner, who was then +in Paris. That gentleman wanted to try some business on the Bourse, but +was unable to come to the bank because he was ill of the dropsy. + +"Who recommended our house to this gentleman?" asked the banker. + +"I think it was the Minister of Finance, in Spain." + +"Ah, yes, very good, very good! And how are we to communicate with him? +Through you?" + +"No. He told me he would prefer to have a clerk who knows Spanish come +to him and take his orders." "That is all right; one shall go. We +happen to have a Spanish clerk. At what hour shall he come?" said M. +Recquillart, taking out a pencil. + +"At nine in the evening." + +"For whom shall he ask?" + +"For Seor Prez Cuesta." + +"At what hotel?" + +"The one in the Quai d'Orsay station." + +"Very good indeed." + +Caesar bowed; and after he had sent Yarza a telephone message, making +an appointment for after the Bourse at the Caf Riche, he took an +automobile and went to hunt for the great financier Dupont de Sarthe, +who lived on the other bank of the Seine, near the Montparnasse station. + +He had a large, sumptuous office, with an enormous library. Two +secretaries were at work at small tables placed in front of the +balconies, and the master wrote at a big Ministerial table full of +books. When Caesar introduced himself, the great economist rose, offered +his hand, and in a sharp voice with a Parisian accent, asked what he +desired. + +Caesar told him the Minister's request, and the great economist became +indignant. + +"Does that gentleman imagine that I am at his bidding, to begin a piece +of work and stop it according as it suits him, and take it up again when +he orders? No, tell him no. Tell him the scheme he asked me for is not +done, not finished; that I cannot give him any data or any information +at all." + +In view of the great man's indignation, Caesar made no reply, but left +the house. He lunched at his hotel, gave orders that if any one brought +a letter or message for Seor Prez Cuesta they should receive it, and +went again to the Rue de Provence, where he said he had had the good +luck to find his cheque. + +With all these goings and comings it got to be three o'clock, and Caesar +turned his steps toward the Caf Riche. Yarza was there and the two +talked a long while. Yarza knew of the manoeuvres of the Minister of +Finance, and he gave his opinion about them with great knowledge of the +business questions. He also knew Recquillart's clerk, the Catalan Pujol, +of whom he had not a very good opinion. + +The two friends made an engagement for the next day and Caesar +hurried to his hotel. He wrote to the Minister, telling him what the +fundamentals of Dupont de Sarthe's project were; and between his own +ideas and those Yarza had expounded to him, he was able to draw up a +complete enough plan. + +"The Minister being a man who knows nothing about all this," thought +Caesar, "when he understands that the ideas I expound are those of the +celebrated Dupont de Sarthe, will find them wonderful." + + +RECQUILLART'S CLERK + + +After having written his letter and taken a little tea, he lay stretched +out on a divan, until they brought him word that a young man was asking +for Seor Prez Cuesta. + +"Send him up." + +Seor Puchol entered, a dark little man who wore a morning-coat and had +a hat with a flat brim edged with braid. + +Caesar greeted him affably and made him sit down. + +"But are you not Spanish?" Caesar asked him. + +"Yes, I was born in Barcelona." + +"I should have taken you for a Frenchman." + +"In dress and everything else, I am a complete Parisian." + +"This poor man is full of vanity," thought Caesar. "All the better." He +immediately began to explain the affair. + +"Look," he said, "the whole matter is this: the Spanish Minister of +Finance, my chief, has dealings on a large scale with the Recquillart +bank; you know that, and so do I; but the Recquillarts, besides charging +an inflated commission, interfere in his buying and selling with so +little cleverness, that whenever he buys, it turns out that he bought +for more than the market price of the security, and whenever he sells, +he sells lower than the quotation. The Minister does not wish to break +off with the Recquillarts...." + +"He can't, you meant to say," replied Puchol, in an insinuating manner. +"Since you know the situation..." responded Caesar. + +"Oughtn't I to?" + +"Since you know the whole situation," continued Caesar, "I will say that +he cannot indeed break off with the Recquillarts, but the Minister would +like to do business with somebody else, without passing under the yoke +of the chief." + +"He ought to make arrangements with another broker here," said Puchol. + +"Ah, certainly. I have brought some twenty thousand francs with that +object." + +"Then there is no difficulty." + +"But we need a go-between. The Minister doesn't care to turn to the +first banker at hand and explain all his combinations to him." + +"That's where I come in." + +"Good, but we must know beforehand how much you are to get. Your +demands may be such that it would be better for him to stick to the +Recquillarts." + +"Recquillart gets ten percent of the profits, besides a small commission +as broker. I will take five." + +"It's a good deal." + +"I will not accept less; the arrangement might cost me my career. +Consult him...." + +"If I could consult him! The truth is that there may not be time. We +will accept five." + +"What does the Minister wish to speculate in? The same things as with +Recquillart? Foreign Loans and Northerns?" + +"Exactly. Just as before." + +"All right. The investment, as you can see, is safe," Puchol continued. +"I would put my fortune in it, if I had one. There are a lot of +newspapers bought; all the financial reviews are predicting a rise." + +The clerk took out a folded review and handed it to Caesar, who read: + +"We are assured that the plan of the Spanish Minister of Finance must +make foreign securities rise considerably. Northerns will follow the +same path, and there are indications that their rise will be very rapid +and will cover several points." + +"The field is going to be covered with corpses," said Caesar. + +Seor Puchol burst out laughing; Caesar invited him to dine with him, +and gave him a sumptuous dinner with good wines. + +Puchol was absolutely vain, and he boasted of his triumphs on the +Bourse; it was he who guided Recquillart in the dealings he had with +Spaniards, in which they had plucked various incautious persons. + +"How much will the Minister's operation amount to?" Caesar asked him. + +"Nobody can prevent his making three hundred thousand, at the least. +With the increase he has ordered you to make, it will come to six +hundred thousand. We will gobble up the two points it falls." + +"I don't know if there may have been some new order while I was in the +train coming to Paris," said Caesar. + +"No, his operation is all arranged," replied Puchol, and he got out a +note-book and consulted it. "It will be like giving away bread. We are +going to sell ten millions of Foreigns and five hundred Northerns on the +seventeenth, the eighteenth, and the twentieth." + +"And the scoop will take place?" asked Caesar. + +"On the 27th." + +"So that on those days we shall sell just as much again?" + +"And we shall sell much dearer." + +They dropped that point and talked of other things. + +Seor Puchol was a literary man and was writing a symbolistic drama +which he wanted to read to Caesar. + +At twelve they said good-night. Puchol was to tell his chief that he had +not been able to do any business with Seor Prez Cuesta. In respect to +the other matter, they had an engagement for ten the next morning at a +caf in the neighbourhood of the Bourse. + +There were no great difficulties to overcome. They saw a broker named +Mller. Caesar entrusted him with his twenty thousand francs, and hinted +that the speculation was being made for some rich people, who would +have no objection to making up any loss, if he should exceed the twenty +thousand francs. + +The broker told him he could play whatsoever sum he wished. + +As Caesar had not entire confidence in Puchol, and did not care either +to tell the broker that he was to begin only when the stocks fell, he +brought Yarza into the deal. + +Puchol was to say to Yarza: "The Minister has given the order to sell"; +and Yarza would first verify this, if he could verify it; then he would +tell the broker: "Sell." It might go as far as handling twenty millions +of Foreigns and up to a thousand of Northerns. + +In order to get all the ends well tied up, Caesar had to get from one +place to another without a moment's rest. + + +IN MADRID + + +The trap being set, Caesar took the train, worn out and feverish. He +arrived at Madrid, took a bath, and went to see the Minister; and after +the interview went to his house in the Calle de Galileo and spent two +days in bed, alone in the completest silence. + +The third day Alzugaray arrived, anxious. + +"What's the matter? Are you sick?" he asked. + +"No. How did you know I was here?" + +"Your janitress came to my house to tell me you were in bed." + +"Well, there's nothing wrong with me, boy." + +"You should know that there's a splendid chance to make some money, +today." + +"My dear fellow!" + +"Yes, and we haven't done anything in the market, except one miserable +little operation." + +"And why do you think there is such a good chance?" + +"Because there is, because everybody can see it," said Alzugaray. +"Prices are going to rise with this project of the Minister of +Finance's; they are going in for a big deal; everybody has been +indiscreet, without meaning to be, and people on the market are buying +and buying. Everybody is sure of a rise ... and we are doing nothing." + +"We are doing nothing," repeated Caesar. + +"But it is absurd." + +"What's the date?" + +"The twenty-second." + +"The evening of the twenty-seventh we will talk." + +"How mysterious you are, boy." + +"I can't tell you any more now. If you have bought anything, sell it." + +"But why?" + +"I can't tell you." + +"All right, when you get on these sibylline airs, I say no more. Another +thing. Various gentlemen have come to tell me that they wanted to play +the market; they have heard that it is about to go up...." + +"Who were they?" + +"Among others, Amparito's father and Don Calixto Garca Guerrero." + +"If they wish to give security, tell our broker, and I will sell them +anything they want to buy." + +"Really?" + +"Really. I have my reasons for doing it." + +"This time we are all going to make, except you." + +"Dear Ignacio, I am at Sinigaglia." + +"What does that mean?" + +"If you have a moment free, read the history of the Borgias," murmured +Caesar, turning over in bed. + +The next few days Caesar lived in constant intranquillity. Yarza +telegraphed him, saying that they had done the whole operation. On the +27th, in the afternoon, Caesar wandered toward the Calle de Alcal; +Madrid wore its normal aspect; the newspaper boys were calling no +extras. More worried than he liked, Caesar went for his walk by the +Canalillo and then shut himself in his house. In the evening he went out +breathless and bought the newspapers. His first impression was one of +panic; there was nothing; on reaching the third page he uttered an +exclamation and smiled. The Minister of Finance had just offered his +resignation. + +The next morning Caesar went to the hotel in the Carrera de San Jernimo +where he had a room, and in the afternoon to the Chamber. He telephoned +to Alzugaray to come and see him after the exchange closed. + +Alzugaray arrived, looking pale, in company with Amparito's father, Don +Calixto, and the broker. They were all wretched. The news was horrible. +Domestics had fallen two points and were still falling; in Paris the +Foreign Loan had fallen more than four; Northern was not falling but +tumbling to the bottom of a precipice. + +"Did you know that the Minister was going to present his resignation?" +asked the broker, in despair. + +"I, no. How should I know it? Even the Minister himself couldn't have +known it yesterday. But I had scientific data for not believing in that +rise." + +"I am ruined," exclaimed the broker. "I have lost my savings." + +Don Calixto and Amparito's father had also lost very large sums, which +Caesar won, and they were disconsolate. + +When they were gone and only Alzugaray remained, he said to Caesar: + +"And you have played in Paris, too, probably." + +"Yes." + +"On a fall?" + +"Certainly." + +"You are a bandit." + +"This game, my dear Ignacio, based solely on events, is not a +speculator's game, but is, simply, a hold-up. The other day I told you: +'I am at Sinigaglia.' Did you read the history of Caesar Borgia?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, what he did at Sinigaglia to the _condottieri_, to Vittellozzo, +Oliverotto da Fermo, and his other two captain-adventurers, I have done +to the Minister of Finance, to Don Calixto, Amparito's father, and many +others." And Caesar explained his game. Alzugaray was amazed. + +"How much have you made?" + +"From what these telegrams say, I think I shall go over half a million +francs. From those beginners, Don Calixto and Amparito's father, I think +I have made forty thousand pesetas." + +"What an atrocious person! If the Minister should find out about your +game." + +"Let him find out. I am not worried. The famous financier, in addition +to being an idiot, is an honourable rogue. He plays the market with +the object of enriching himself and leaving a fortune to his repugnant +children. I, on the other hand, play it with a patriotic object." + +The matter didn't rest there: Puchol, carried away by an easily +comprehensible desire for lucre, and thinking it brought the same amount +to the famous financier whether he played through Recquillart or through +Muller, had made the last bid for the Minister through the new broker. + +The Minister's winnings diminished considerably and Caesar's gained in +proportion. The illustrious financier, on learning what had happened, +shrieked to heaven; but he said nothing, because of the secret +transaction they had had together. Puchol was dismissed by Recquillart, +and with the thirty thousand francs he collected from Caesar he set up +for himself. + +The Minister, a little later, went to Biarritz, to collect his share. +On his return he sent Caesar a note, unsigned and written on the +type-writer. It read: + +"I did not think you had enough ability for cheating. Another time I +will be more careful." + +Caesar replied in the same manner, as follows: + +"When it's a question of a man who, besides being an idiot, is a poor +creature and a cheat like you, I have no scruple in robbing him first +and despising him afterwards." + +Some days later Caesar published an article attacking the retiring +Minister of Finance and disclosing a lot of data and figures. + +The Minister answered with a letter in a Conservative paper, in which +he denied everything Caesar alleged, and said, with contempt, that +questions of Finance were not to be treated by "amateurs." + +Caesar said that he considered himself insulted by the Minister's words, +whom, however, he admired as a financier; and a few months later he +joined the Liberal party and was received with open arms by its famous +chief. + + +XII + +LOCAL STRUGGLES + +THE WATER SUPPLY + + +Caesar had money in abundance, and he decided to exert a decisive +influence on Castro Duro. + +For a long while he had had various projects planned. + +He thought it was an appropriate moment to put them into practice. + +The first that he tried to carry out was the water supply. + +The Municipality had a plan for this in the archives, and Caesar asked +for it to study. The scheme was big and expensive; the stream it was +necessary to harness so as to bring it to Castro, was far away. Besides +it was requisite to construct a piping system or an aqueduct. + +Caesar consulted an engineer, who told him: + +"From a business point of view, this is very poor. Even if you use +the superfluous water, in a factory for instance, it will give you no +results." + +"What shall we do then?" + +"The simplest thing would be to put in a pumping plant and pump up the +river water." + +"But it is infected water, full of impurities." + +"It can be purified by filtering. That's not difficult." + +Caesar laid this plan before the Municipality, and it was decided to +carry it out, as the most practical and practicable. A company was +formed to pump up the water, and work was begun. + +The stockholders were almost all rich people of Castro, and the company +drew up its constitution in such a manner that the town got scarcely any +benefit out of it. They were not going to instal more than two public +fountains inside the city limits, and those were to run only a few +hours. Caesar tried to convince them that this was absurd, but nobody +paid any attention to him. + + +THE LIBRARY + + +A bit disappointed, he left the "Water Pumping Company" to go its way, +and devoted himself entirely to things that he could carry out alone. + +The first one he tried was establishing a circulating library of +technical books on trades and agriculture, and of polite and scientific +literature, in the Workmen's Club. + +"They will sell the books," everybody said; "they will get them all +soiled, and tear out the leaves...." + +Caesar had the volumes bound, and at the end of each he had ten or +twelve blank sheets put in, in case the reader wished to write notes. + +The experiment began; predictions were not fulfilled; the books came +back to the library untorn and unspotted and with some very ingenuous +notes in them. Lots of people took out books. + +The clerical element immediately protested; the priests said in the +pulpit that to send any chance book to working people's houses without +examining it first, was to lead people into error. Dr. Ortigosa retorted +that Science did not need the approval of sacristans. As, in spite +of the clerical element's advice, people kept on reading, there were +various persons that took out books and filled them with obscene +drawings and tore out illustrations. Dr. Ortigosa sent Caesar a letter +informing him what was happening, and Caesar answered that he must limit +the distribution of books to the members of the Workmen's Club and +people that were known. He bade him replace the six or seven books +abused, and continued to send new ones. + +The ferment kept the city stirred up; there were no end of heated +discussions; lectures were given in the Club, and Dr. Ortigosa's paper, +_The Protest_, came to life again. + +"I am with you in whatever will agitate the people's ideas," wrote +Caesar; "but if they start to play orators and revolutionists, and +you folks come along with pedantic notions, then I for my part shall +drop the whole thing." + +When Caesar was in Castro, he spent his evenings at the Workmen's Club. +They gave moving pictures and frequent balls. Caesar did not miss one of +the Club's entertainments. The men came to him for advice, and the +girls and the little boys bowed to him affectionately. There was great +enthusiasm over him. + + +THE BENEVOLENT SOCIETY + + +Shortly after the initiation of these improvements in the Club, there +appeared in Castro Duro, without fuss, without noise, two rather +mysterious societies; the Benevolent Society of Saint Joseph and the +Agricultural Fund. In an instant the Benevolent Society of Saint Joseph +had a numerous array of members and patrons. All the great landholders +of the region, including Amparito's father, bound themselves to employ +no labourers except those belonging to the Benevolent Society. In the +neighbouring villages the inhabitants joined _en masse_. At the same +time as this important society, Father Martin and his friends founded +the Castrian Agricultural Fund, whose purpose was to make loans, at a +low rate of interest, to small proprietors. + +The two Catholic institutions set themselves up in rivalry to the +Workmen's institution. The town was divided; the Catholics were more +numerous and richer; the Liberals more determined and enthusiastic. The +Catholics had given their upholders a resigned character. + +Moreover, the name Catholic applied to the members of the two Clerical +societies made those who did not belong to them admit with great +tranquillity that _they_ were not Catholics. + +The Clericals called their enemies Moncadists, and by implication +Schismatics, Atheists, and Anarchists. Inside the town there was a +Moncadist majority; in the environs everybody was a Catholic and +belonged to the Benevolent Society. + +Generally the Catholics were abused in word and deed by the Moncadists; +the members of the Workmen's Club held those of the Benevolent Society +for cowards and traitors. Doubtless Father Martn did not wish that +his followers should be distinguished by Christian meekness, and he +appointed a bully whom people called "Driveller" Juan warden of the +Benevolent Society. This Juan was a lad who lived without working; his +mother and his sisters were dressmakers, and he bled them for money, and +spent his life in taverns and gambling-dens. + +"Driveller" began to insult members of the club, especially the boys, +and to defy them, on any pretext. Dr. Ortigosa went to see Caesar and +explained the situation. "Driveller" was a coward, he didn't venture +beyond a few peaceable workmen; but if he had defied "Furibis" or +"Panza" or any of the railway men that belonged to the Club, they +would have given him what he deserved. But in spite of "Driveller's" +cowardice, he inspired terror among the young boys and apprentices. + +Dr. Ortigosa was in favour of getting another bully, who could undertake +the job of cutting out "Driveller's" guts. + +"Whom are we to get?" asked Caesar. + +"We know somebody," said Ortigosa. + +"Who is it?" + +"' El Montes.'" + +"What kind of a party is he?" + +"A bandit like the other, but braver." + +_BANDITS_ + +"El Montes" had just come out of Ocaa. + +He was a Manchegan, tall, strong, robust, and had been in the +penitentiary several times. + +"And how do we manage 'El Montes'?" asked Caesar. + +"We make him a servant at the Workmen's Club." + +"He will corrupt the place." + +"Yes, that's true. Then at the right moment we shall send him to the +Caf del Comercio. They gamble at that caf; he can go there and in two +or three days call a halt on 'Driveller' Juan." "Good." + +"We must arrange for you to dismiss the new judge and put in some friend +of yours, and one fine day we will get a quarrel started and we will put +all Father Martin's friends in jail." + +"You two play atrocious politics," said Alzugaray, who was listening to +the conversation. + +"It's the only kind that will work," replied Ortigosa. "This is +scientific politics. Ruffianism converted into philosophy. We are +playing a game of chess with Father Martin and we are going to see if we +can't win it." + +"But, man, employing all these cut-throats!" + +"My dear friend," responded Caesar, "political situations include such +things; with their heads they touch the noblest things, the safety of +one's native land and the race; with their feet they touch the meanest +things, plots, vices, crimes. A politician of today still has to mingle +with reptiles, even though he be an honourable man." + +"Besides, we need have no scruples," added Ortigosa; "the inhabitants of +Castro are laboratory guinea-pigs. We are going to experiment on them, +we are going to see if they can stand the Liberal serum." + +* * * * * + +_THE TWO ASYLUMS_ + +A little after these rivalries between the Benevolent Society and the +Workmen's Club, which stirred up every one's passions to an extreme +never before known at Castro Duro, another motive for agitation +transpired. + +There were two asylums in the town; the Municipal Aid and the Asylum of +the Little Sisters of the Poor. + +The Municipal Aid had its own property and was wisely organized; the old +people were permitted to go out of the asylum, they had no uniform, and +from time to time they were allowed to drink a glass of something. In +the Little Sisters' Home, on the contrary, discipline was most severe; +all the inmates had to go dressed in a horrible uniform, which the +poor hated; to be present, like a chorus, at the funerals of important +persons; pray at every step; and besides all that, they were forbidden +under pain of expulsion, to smoke or to drink anything. + +So the result was that there were abandoned old wretches, who, if they +couldn't get a place in the Aid, let themselves die in some corner, +rather than put on the uniform of the Little Sisters' Home, degrading in +their eyes. + +That asylum had no income, because its Catholic managers had eaten it +all up. In view of the institution's bad economic condition, it occurred +to Father Martin to consolidate the two; to make one asylum of the +municipal and the religious, and to put it under the strict rule of the +religious one. What Father Martin wanted was that the Little Sisters +should have a finger in the whole thing, and that the income of one +institution should serve for both. + +Caesar threatened the mayor with dismissal if he accepted the +arrangement, and insisted that the Liberal councilmen should not permit +the fusion, which was to the great advantage of the Clerical party. + +As a matter of fact, the plan came to nothing, and Caesar treated the +Municipal Aid to two barrels of wine and tobacco in abundance, which +aroused great enthusiasm among the old people, who cheered for the +Deputy of their District. + +Caesar rode over the situation on horseback; but the Clerical campaign +strengthened at the same rate that popular sympathies went out toward +him. In almost every sermon there were allusions to the immorality and +the irreligion that reigned in the town. The support of the women was +sought and they were exhorted to influence their husbands, brothers, and +sons to resign from the Workmen's Club. + +The old pulpit oratory began to seem mild, and on the feast of the +Virgin of the Rock, a young preacher launched out, in the church, into +an eloquent, violent, and despotic sermon in which he threatened eternal +suffering to those who belonged to heretical clubs and would not return +to the loving bosom of the Church. The homily caused the greatest +impression, and there were a few unhappy mortals who, some days later, +were reported as dead or missing at the Workmen's Club. + + + + +XIII + +AMPARITO IN ACTION + +_LAURA AT CASTRO_ + + +A time for new elections arrived, and Caesar stood for Castro Duro. Don +Calixto, who had married his two daughters and was bored at not being +allowed to pull the strings in the town, decided to move to Madrid. +First he had thought of spending only some time at the capital, but +later he decided to stay there and he had his furniture sent down. + +People said that Don Calixto had no great affection for the old palace +of the Dukes of Castro, and Caesar proposed that he should rent the +house to him. + +Don Calixto hesitated; in Castro he would certainly have refused, but +being in Madrid he accepted. His wife advised him that if he had any +scruples, he should ask more rent. They came to the agreement that +Caesar should pay three thousand pesetas a year for the part Don Calixto +had formerly inhabited. + +This time Caesar had the election won, and there was not the slightest +fight. He was the boss of Castro, a good boss, accepted by everybody, +save the Clericals. + +Caesar had money, and he wrote to his sister to come and see him at +Castro in his seigniorial mansion. Laura arrived at Madrid in the +autumn, and the two went to Castro together. + +Laura's appearance in the town created a great sensation. At first +people said she was Caesar's wife. Others said she was an actress; until +finally everybody understood that she was his sister. + +Laura really took undue advantage of her superiority. She was +irresistibly amiable and bewitching with everybody. The majority of the +men in Castro Duro talked of nothing but her, and the women hated her to +the death. + +Being a marchioness, a Cardinal's niece, and a Deputy's sister, gave +her, besides, a terrible social prestige. + +One person who clung to her, enchanted to have such a friend, was +Amparito. She went to the palace in her motor at all hours, to see Laura +and chat with her. In the afternoon the two of them used to walk in +Amparito's father's property, where the labourers, who were threshing, +received them like queens. + +What enchanted Laura was the wild garden at Don Calixto's house, with +its pomegranates and laurels, its tower above the river, full of +climbing plants and oleanders. + +"You ought to buy this house," she used to tell Caesar. + +"It would cost a good deal." + +"Pshaw! You could arrange that wonderfully. You would get married and +live here like a prince." + +"Get married?" + +"Yes. To Amparito. That young thing is enchanting. + +"She will make a splendid little wife. Even for your respectability as a +Deputy, it would be fitting to marry. A bachelor politician has a poor +look." + +Caesar paid no attention to these suggestions and continued to lead +an unsocial life. He covered the environs on horseback, found out +everything that was going on and settled it. In this he set himself +an enormous task, which was not notable for results; but he hoped to +succeed in conquering the district completely, and then to extend his +sphere of action to others and yet others. + +After being a fortnight in Castro Duro, Laura went to Biarritz, as was +her custom every year. + + +AMPARITO AND CAESAR + + +Caesar was left alone. He had seen Amparito with his sister many times +but had scarcely ever exchanged more than a few words with her. One +afternoon Caesar was in the gallery in an arm-chair, with his feet high. +He felt melancholy and lazy, and was watching the clouds move across the +sky. Soon he heard steps, and saw Amparito with an old servant who had +been her nurse. + +Caesar jumped up. + +"What's the matter?" he exclaimed. + +"I came to get something Laura forgot," said Amparito. + +"She forgot something?" asked Caesar stupidly. + +"Yes," replied Amparito; and added, addressing the old woman: + +"Go see if there is a little glass box in Seorita Laura's room." + +The old woman went out, and Amparito, looking at Caesar, who was on his +feet watching her nervously, said: + +"Do you still hate me?" + +"I?" exclaimed Caesar. + +"Yes, you do hate me." + +"I! I have never hated you.... Quite the contrary." + +"Whenever you see me you get away, and just now you looked at me as +if you were terrified. Have you such a grudge against me for a joke I +played on you long ago?" + +"I, a grudge! No. It is because I have the impression, Amparito, that +you want to upset my plans, to make game of me. Why do you?" + +"Do you think I try to amuse myself by worrying you?" + +"Yes." + +"No, that isn't true. You don't think so." + +"Then why this constant inclination to distress me, to poke fun at me?" + +"I never poked fun at you." + +"Then I have made a mistake.... I had come to think that you took some +interest in me." + +"And so I did. I did take an interest in you, and I keep on taking an +interest in you." + +"And why so?" + +"Because I see that you are unhappy, and you are alone." + +"Ah! You are sorry for me!" "Now you are offended. Yes, I am sorry for +you." + +"Sorry!" + +"Yes, sorry. Because I see that you despise everybody and despise +yourself, because you think people are bad, and that you are too, and to +me this seems so sad that it makes me pity you deeply." + +Caesar began to walk up and down the gallery, trembling a little. + +"I don't see why you say this to me," he murmured. "I am a morbid man, +with an ulcerated, wounded spirit.... I know that. But why say it to me? +Do you take pleasure in humiliating me?" + +"No, Caesar," said Amparito, drawing near him. "You don't believe that I +take pleasure in humiliating you. No, you know well that I do not." + +On saying this, Amparito burst into tears, and she had to lean against +the gallery window, to hide her face and dissemble her emotion. + +Caesar took her hand, and as she did not turn her head, he seized her +other, too. She looked at him with her eyes shining and full of tears; +and in that look there was so much attachment, so much distress, that +Caesar felt a weakness in his whole frame. Then, taking Amparito's head +between his hands, he kissed it several times. + +She leaned her head on Caesar's shoulder and stood pressed against him, +sobbing. Caesar felt a sensation of anguish and pain, as if within the +depths of his soul, the strongest part of his personality had broken and +melted. + +They heard the footsteps of the old woman, coming back to say that she +had found nothing in the room Laura had occupied during her stay. + +Amparito dried her tears, and smiled, and her face was redder than +usual. Presently she said to the nurse: + +"Probably you didn't look well. I am going to go myself." + +Amparito went out. + +Caesar was pale and absorbed; he felt that something extraordinary +had happened to him. His hands trembled and things swam around him. + +In a short while Amparito returned. She had a round glass box in her +hand, which she said she had found in Laura's room. + +"This afternoon I am going to Our Lady of the Rock," said Amparito. +"Will you come, Caesar?" + +"Yes." + +"Then, good-bye till then." + +Amparito gave him her hand, and Caesar kissed it. The old servant was +dumfounded. Amparito burst out laughing. + +"He is my beau. Hadn't you noticed it before?" + +"No," said the old woman with a gesture of violent negation. + +Amparito laughed again and disappeared. + +The first days of his engagement Caesar was constantly in-tranquil and +uneasy. He kept thinking that it was impossible to live like that, +giving his whole attention to nothing except the desires of a girl. He +imagined that the awakening would come from one moment to the next; but +the awakening didn't arrive. + +By degrees Caesar abandoned all the affairs of the district, which had +taken all his attention, and took to occupying himself solely with his +sweetheart. The whole town knew their relations and talked of the coming +wedding. + +That dazzling idyll intrigued all the girls in Castro. The truth was +that none of them had considered Caesar a marrying man; some had +imagined him already old; others an experienced and vicious bachelor, +incapable of yielding to the matrimonial yoke; and now they saw him a +youth, of distinguished type, with distinguished manners and looks. + +Caesar went almost daily to Amparito's father's country-place. It was +a magnificent estate, another ancient property of the Dukes of Castro +Duro, with a house adorned with escutcheons, and an extensive stone +pool, deep and mysterious. The garden did not resemble that at Don +Calixto's house, for that one was of a frantic gaiety, and the one on +Amparito's father's estate was very melancholy. Above all, the square of +water in the pool, whose edges were decorated with great granite vases, +had a mysterious, sad aspect. + +"Doesn't it make you very sad to look at this deep water in the pool?" +Caesar asked his fiance. + +"No, it doesn't me." + +"It does me." + +"Because you are a poet," she said, "and I am not; I am very prosaic." + +"Really?" + +"Yes." + +The more Caesar talked with Amparito, the less he understood her and the +more he needed to be with her. + +"We really do not think the same about anything," Caesar used to tell +himself, "and yet we understand each other." + +Many times he endeavoured to make a psychological rsum of Amparito's +character, but he didn't succeed. He didn't know how to classify her; +her type always escaped him. + +"All her notions are different from mine," he used to think; "she speaks +in another way, feels in another way, she even has a different moral +code. How strange!" + +Also, what Amparito knew was completely heterogeneous; she spoke French +well and wrote it fairly correctly; in Spanish, on the other hand, she +had no idea of spelling. Caesar was always stupefied on seeing the +transpositions of h's, s's, and z's that she made in her letters. + +There remained by Amparito, from her passage through the French school, +a recollection of the history of France made up of a few anecdotes and a +few phrases. Thus, it was not unusual to hear her speak of Turenne, +of Francis I, or of Colbert. For the rest, she played the piano badly +enough and with extremely little enthusiasm. + +This was the part belonging to her education as a rich young lady; that +which belonged to the country girl, who lived among peasants, was more +curious and personal. + +She knew many plants by their vulgar names, and understood their +industrial and medicinal use. Besides, she spoke in such pure, natural +phrases that Caesar was filled with admiration. + +Caesar had reached such a degree of exaltation that he thought of +nothing any more, except his sweetheart. At night, before going to +sleep, he thought of her deliriously. He often dreamed that Amparito had +changed into the red-flowered oleander of the wild palace garden, and +in every flower of the oleander he used to see Amparito's red lips and +white teeth. + + + + +XIV + +INTRANSIGENCE LOST + +DISQUIET DISAPPEARS + + +The wedding took place and Caesar had to compromise about a lot of +things. It didn't trouble him to confess and receive communion; he +considered those mere customs, and went to the church of the Plain to +conform to these practices with the old priest who was a friend of +Amparito's. + +On the other hand, it did bother Caesar to have to suffer Father Martin +in his house, who allowed himself to talk and give advice; and he +was also irritated by the presence of certain persons who considered +themselves aristocrats and who came to call on him and point out to him +that it was now time to give up the rabble and the indigent and to rise +to their level. + +If he had not had so much to think about as he did have, he would have +found this a good chance to show his aggressive humour; but all his +attention was fixed on Amparito. + +The newly married pair spent the first days of their honeymoon at +Castro; then they went to Madrid, with the intention of going abroad, +and afterwards they went back to the town. + +The old palace of the Dukes of Castro was witness to their idyll. + +At the end of some time Caesar felt tranquil, perhaps too tranquil. + +"This, no doubt, is what is called being happy," he used to say to +himself. And being happy gave him the impression of a limbo; he felt +as though his old personality was dying within him. He could no longer +recover his former way of life; all his disquietudes had vanished. He +felt that he was balanced, lacking those alternations of courage and +cowardice which had previously formed the characteristic thing in him. +It was the oasis after the desert; the calm that follows the storm. + +Caesar wondered if he had acquired new nerves. His instinct to be +arbitrary was on the downward track. + +He could not easily determine what role his wife played in his inner +life. He felt the necessity of having her beside him, of talking to her; +but he did not understand whether this was mere selfishness, for the +sake of the soothing effect her presence produced, or was for the +satisfaction of his vanity in seeing how she gave all her thought to +him. + +Spiritually he did not feel her either identified with him or strange to +him; her soul marched along as if parallel to his, but in other paths. + +"All that men say about women is completely false," Caesar used to +think, "and what women say about themselves, equally so, because they +merely repeat what men say. Only when they are completely emancipated +will they succeed in understanding themselves. It is indubitable that we +have not the same leading ideas, or the same points of view. Probably we +have not a similar moral sense either. Neither is woman made for man, +nor man for woman. There is necessity between them, not harmony." + +Many times, watching Amparito, he told himself: + +"There is some sort of machinery in her head that I do not understand." + +Noting his scrutinizing gaze, she would ask him: + +"What are you thinking about me?" + +He would explain his perplexities, and she would laugh. + + +SYMPATHY + +Indubitably, there existed an instinctive accord of the sentiments +between Amparito and him, an organic sympathy. She could feel for them +both, but he could not think for them both; each mental machine ran in +isolation, like two watches, which do not hear each other. She knew +whether Caesar was sad or joyful, disheartened or spirited, merely by +looking at him. She had no need to ask him; she could read Caesar's +face. He could not, on his side, understand what went on behind that +little forehead and those moist and sparkling eyes. + +"Are you feeling happy? Are you feeling sad?" he would ask her. He could +not reach the point of knowing by himself. + +"I never succeed in knowing what you want," he sometimes said to her, +bitterly. + +"Why, you always succeed," she used to reply. + +Caesar often wondered if the rle of being so much loved, whether wrong +or right, was an absurd, offensive thing. In all great affections there +is one peculiarity; if one loves a person, one gets to the point of +changing that person to an idol inside oneself, and from that moment +it seems that the person divides into the unreal idol, which is like a +false picture of the adored one, and the living being, who resembles the +idolized object very slightly. + +Caesar found something absurd in being loved like that. Besides, he +found that she was dragging him away from himself. After six months of +marriage, she was making him change his ideas and his way of life, and +he was having absolutely no influence on her. + +Previously he had often thought that if he lived with a woman, he should +prefer one that was spiritually foreign to him, who should look on him +like a rare plant, not with one that would want to identify herself with +his tastes and his sympathies. + +With a somewhat hostile woman he would have felt an inclination to be +voluble and contradictory; with a sympathetic woman, on the contrary, he +would have seemed to himself like a circus runner whom one of his pupils +is trying to overtake, and who has to run hard to keep the record where +it belongs. + +But his wife was neither one nor the other. + +Amparito had an extraordinary insouciance, gaiety, facility, in +accepting life. Caesar never ceased being amazed. She spent her days +working, talking, singing. The slightest diversion enchanted her, +the most insignificant gift aroused a lively satisfaction. + +"Everything is decided, as far as you are concerned," Caesar used, to +tell her. + +"By what?" + +"By your character." + +She laughed at that. + +It seemed as if she had chosen the best attitude toward life. She saw +that her husband was not religious, but she considered that an attribute +of men, and thought that God must have an especial complacency toward +husbands, if only so as not to leave wives alone in paradise. + +Amparito held by a fetichistic Catholicism, conditioned by her situation +in life, and mixed with a lot of heterodox and contradictory ideas, but +she didn't give any thought to that. + +The marriage was very successful; they never had disputes or +discussions. When both were stubborn, they never noticed which one +yielded. + +They had rented one rather big floor facing on the Retiro, and they +began to furnish it. + +Amparito had bad taste in decoration; everything loud pleased her, and +sometimes when Caesar laughed, she would say: + +"I know I am a crazy country girl. You must tell me how to fix things." + +Caesar decided the arrangement of a little reception-room. He chose +a light paper for the walls, some coloured engravings, and Empire +furniture. Female friends found the room very well done. Amparito used +to tell them: + +"Yes, Caesar had it done like this," as if that were a weighty argument +with everybody. + +Amparito and her father persuaded Caesar that he ought to open an +office. All the people in Castro lamented that Caesar did not practise +law. + +He had always felt a great repugnance for that sharpers' and skinflints' +business; but he yielded to please Amparito, and set up his office and +took an assistant who was very skillful in legal tricks. Caesar was often +to be found writing in the office, when Amparito opened the door. + +"Do you want to come here a moment?" she would say. + +"Yes. What is it?" + +"Look and see how this hat suits me. How do you like it?" + +Caesar would laugh and say: + +"I think you ought to take off the flowers, or it ought to be smaller." + +Amparito accepted Caesar's suggestions as if they had been, articles of +faith. + +Caesar, on his part, had a great admiration for his wife. What strength +for facing life! What amazing energy! + +"I walk among brambles and leave a piece of my clothing on every one of +them," thought Caesar, "and she passes artlessly between all obstacles, +with the ease of an ethereal thing. It's extraordinary!" + +It pleased Amparito to be thus observed. + +Her husband used to tell her: + +"You have, as it were, ten or twelve Amparitos inside of you; it often +seems to me that you are a whole round of Amparitos." + +"Well, you are not more than one Caesar to me." + +"That's because I have the ugly vice of talking and of being +consequential." + +"Don't I talk?" + +"Yes, in another way." + + +_DOUBT_ + +In the spring they went to Castro, and the members of the Workmen's Club +presented themselves before Caesar to remind him of a project for a +Co-operative and a School, which he had promised them. They were all +ready to put up what was necessary for realizing both plans. + +Caesar listened to them, and although with great coldness, said yes, +that he was ready to initiate the scheme. A few days later, in Dr. +Ortigosa's _Protest_, there was enthusiastic talk of the Great +Co-operative, which, when established, would improve, and at the same +time cheapen necessary articles. + +The same day that the paper came out with this news, a commission of the +shopkeepers of Castro waited on Caesar. The scheme would ruin them. It +was especially the small shopkeepers that considered themselves most +injured. + +Caesar replied that he would think it over and decide in an equitable +manner, looking for a way to harmonize the interests of all people. +Really he didn't know what to do, and as he had no great desire to begin +new undertakings, he wanted to call the Co-operative dead, but Dr. +Ortigosa was not disposed to abandon the idea. + +"It is certain that if goods are made cheaper," said the doctor, "and +the Co-operative is opened to the public, the shopkeepers will have to +fight it, and then either they or we shall be ruined; but something else +can be done, and that is to sell articles to the public at the same +price as the tradesmen, and arrange it that members get a dividend from +the profits of the society. In that way there will be no fight, at any +rate not at first." + +They tried to do it that way, but it did not satisfy the poor people, or +calm the shopkeepers. + +Caesar, who had lost his lust for a fight, put the scheme aside; and +although it would cost him more, decided to have the construction of the +school begun. + +The Municipality ceded the lot and granted a subsidy of five thousand +pesetas to start the work; Caesar gave ten thousand, and at the +Workmen's Club a subscription was opened, and performances were given in +the theatre to collect funds. + +The school promised to be a spacious edifice with a beautiful garden. +The corner-stone was laid in the presence of the Governor of the +Province, and despite the fact that the founders' intention was to found +a lay school, the Clerical element took part in the celebration. + +When the work began, the majority of the members of the Club were +shocked to find that the masons, instead of working on the same +conditions as for other jobs, asked more pay, as if the school where +their sons might study were an institution more harmful than beneficial +for them. + +Caesar, on learning this, smiled bitterly and said: + +"They are not obliged to be less of brutes than the bourgeoisie." + +From Madrid Caesar continued sending maps for the school, engravings, +bas-reliefs, a moving-picture machine. + +Dr. Ortigosa and his friends went every day to look over the work. + +A year from the beginning of work, the boys and girls' school was +opened. Dr. Ortigosa succeeded in arranging that two of the three male +teachers they procured were Free-Thinkers. One of them, a poor man who +had lived a dog's life in some town in Andalusia, was reputed to be an +anarchist. They appointed three female teachers too, two old, and one +young, a very attractive and clever girl, who came from a town near +Bilboa. + +Caesar took part in the opening, and spoke, and received enthusiastic +applause. Despite which, Caesar felt ill at ease among his old friends; +in his heart he knew that he was deserting them. He now thought it +unlikely, almost impossible, that that town should succeed in emerging +from obscurity and meaning something in modern life. Moreover, he +doubted about himself, began to think that he was not a hero, began to +believe that he had assigned himself a role beyond his powers; and this +precisely at the moment when the town had the most faith in him. + + + +XV + +"DRIVELLER" JUAN AND "THE CUB-SLUT" + + +_A MURDER_ + +"Driveller" Juan, the town dandy protected by Father Martn, had from +childhood distinguished himself by his cowardice and by his tendency to +bullying. His appearance was that of an idiot; people said he drivelled; +whence they gave him the nickname of "Driveller" Juan. He lived by +pretending to be terrible in the gambling houses, and bragged of having +been in prison several times. + +The Clericals had made "Driveller" the janitor of the Benevolent +Society, and at the same time its bully, so that he could inspire +terror; but as he was a coward in reality, and this was evident, he did +not succeed in terrifying the members of the Workmen's Club. + +"Driveller" Juan was tall, red-headed, with high cheek bones, knotty +hands, and a pendulous lip; his father, like him, had been bony and +strong, and for that reason had been called "Big Bones." + +"Driveller," like the coward he was, knew that he was not filling his +job; one day he had dared to go to a ball at the Workmen's Club, and San +Romn, the old Republican, had gone to him and tapped him on the arm, +saying: + +"Listen here, 'Driveller,' get out right now and don't you come back." + +"Why should I?" + +"Because you are not wanted." + +Juan had gone away like a whipped dog. "Driveller" wanted to do a manly +action, and he did it. + +There was a boy belonging to the Workmen's Club, who was called +"Lengthy," one of the few type-setters in the town, a clever, facetious +lad who now and then wrote an article for _The Protest_. + +"Driveller" insisted that "Lengthy" wanted to make fun of him. No doubt +he chose him for his victim, because he was so slim, lanky, and weak; +perhaps he had some other reason for attacking him. One afternoon, +at twilight, "Driveller" halted "Lengthy," demanded an explanation, +insulted him, and on finding his victim made no reply, gave him a blow. +The street was wet, and "Driveller" stepped on a fruit-skin and fell +headlong. Seeing the bully infuriated, "Lengthy" started to run, came to +an open door, and ran rapidly up the stairs. "Driveller," furious, ran +after him. Pursued and pursuer went down a hallway and "Lengthy" managed +to reach a door and close it. "Driveller's" revengeful fury was not +satisfied; he lay in wait until "Lengthy," believing himself alone, +tried to escape from his hiding-place and was walking down the hall, +and then "Driveller" drew his pistol and fired with the mouth against +"Lengthy's" shoulder, and left him dead. As it was a rainy day, both the +dead man's footsteps and the murderer's could be followed and everything +that had happened ascertained. + +The impression produced in the town by this assassination was enormous. +Some people said that Father Martin and his followers had ordered +"Lengthy" killed. In the Workmen's Club there was talk of setting fire +to the Benevolent Society of Saint Joseph and of burning the monastery +of la Pea. + +Caesar was in Madrid at the time of the crime. Some days later a +committee from the Club came to see him; it was necessary to have a +charge pushed and for Caesar to be the private attorney. + +According to the Club people, the Clericals wanted to save "Driveller" +Juan, and if he was not disposed of completely, he would begin his +performances again. + +Caesar could see nothing for it but to accept the duty which the town +put upon him. + +Because of the crime, the history of "Driveller's" family came to be +public property. He had a mother and two sisters who were seamstresses, +whom he exploited, and he lived with a tavern-keeper nicknamed "The +Cub-Slut," a buxom, malicious woman, who said horrible things about +everybody. + + +* * * * * + +_LIFE OF "THE CUB-SLUT"_ + +There were reasons for "The Cub-Slut's" being what she was. Her parents +being dead when she was a baby, having no relatives she had been left +deserted. A farrier they called "Gaffer," who seemed to have been a +kind person, took in the infant and brought her up in his house. It was +"Gaffer" who had given the nickname to the child, because instead of +calling her by her name, he used to say: + +"Hey, 'Cub-Slut!' Hey, little 'Cub-Slut!'" and the appellation had +stuck. + +When the girl was fourteen, "Gaffer" ravished her, and afterwards, being +tired of her, took her to a house of prostitution in the Capital and +sold her. "The Cub-Slut" left the brothel to go and live with an old +innkeeper, who died and made her his heiress. Six years later she went +back to Castro. Those that had seen her come back maintained that when +she reached the town and was told that "Gaffer" had died a few months +before, she burst into tears; some said it was from sentiment, but +others thought, very plausibly, that it was from rage at not being able +to get revenge. "The Cub-Slut" set up a tavern at Castro. + +"Driveller" and "The Cub-Slut" got along well, although, by what any one +could discover, "The Cub-Slut" treated the bully more like a servant +than anything else. + +"The Cub-Slut" was said to be very outspoken. One Sunday, on the +promenade, she had answered one of the young ladies of Castro rudely. +The young lady was the daughter of a millionaire, who had married after +having several children by a mistress of pretty bad reputation. The +millionaire's children had been educated in aristocratic schools, and +his girls were very elegant young ladies; even the mother got to be +refined and polished. One Sunday, on the promenade, one of them, on +passing near "The Cub-Slut," said in a low tone to her mother: + +"Dear Lord, what riff-raff!" + +And "The Cub-Slut," hearing her, stopped and said violently: + +"There's no riff-raff here except your mother and me. Now you know it." + +The young lady was so upset by the harsh retort that she didn't leave +the house again for a long while. + +Such rude candour on "The Cub-Slut's" part had made her feared; so that +nobody durst provoke her in the slightest degree. Besides, her history +and her misfortune were known and people knew that she was not a vicious +woman, but rather a victim of fate. + +The assassination of "Lengthy" was one of those events that are not +forgotten in a town. "Lengthy" was the son of "Gaffer," "The Cub-Slut's" +protector, and some people imagined that she had persuaded "Driveller" +to commit the crime; but the members of the Workmen's Club continued to +believe that it was a case of clerical revenge. + + +_"THE CUB-SLUT'S" ARGUMENT_ + +In the month of June, Caesar and Amparito went to Castro Duro. + +One afternoon when Caesar was alone in the garden, a very buxom woman +appeared before him, wearing a mantilla and dressed in black. + +"I came in without anybody seeing me," she said. "Your porter, 'Wild +Piglet,' let me pass. I know that Amparito is not here." + +She didn't say "Your wife," or "Your lady," but "Amparito." + +"Tell me what you want," said Caesar, looking at the woman with a +certain dread. + +"I am the woman that lives with 'Driveller' Juan." + +"Ah! You are...?" "Yes. 'The Cub-Slut.'" + +Caesar looked at her attentively. She was of the aquiline type seen on +Iberian coins, her nose arched, eyes big and black, thin-lipped mouth, +and a protruding chin. She noticed his scrutiny, and stood as if on her +guard. + +"Sit down, if you will, please, and tell me what you wish." + +"I am all right," she replied, continuing to stand; then, precipitately, +she said, "What I want is for them not to punish Juan more than is +just." + +"I don't believe he will be punished unjustly," responded Caesar. + +"The whole town says that if you speak against him in court, the +punishment will be heavier." + +"And you want me not to speak?" + +"That's it." + +"It seems to me to be asking too much. I shall do no more than insist +that they punish him justly." + +"There is no way to get out of it?" + +"None." + +"If you wanted to ... I would wait on you on my knees afterwards, I +would make any sacrifice for you." + +"Are you so fond of the man?" + +"The Cub-Slut" answered in the negative, by an energetic movement of her +head. + +"Well, then, what do you expect to get out of him?" + +"I expect revenge." + +"The Cub-Slut's" eyes flashed. + +"Is what they say about you true?" asked Caesar. + +"Yes." + +"The dead boy was the son of the man that sold you?" + +"Yes." + +"But to revenge oneself on the son for the sin of the father is +horrible." + +"The son was just as wicked as the father." + +"So that you ordered him killed?" + +"Yes, I did." + +"And you come and tell that to me, when I am to be the private +attorney." "Have them arrest me. I don't care." + +"The Cub-Slut" stood firm before Caesar, provocative, with flashing +eyes, in an attitude of challenge. + +"You hated that dead boy so much as this?" + +"Yes, him and all his family." + +"I can understand that if the father were alive, you might..." + +"If he were alive! I would give my life to drag him out of his tomb, so +as to make him suffer as much as he made me suffer." + +Caesar vaguely remembered the story he had heard about this woman, whose +adopted father had ruined her and then left her in a disreputable house +in the Capital. In general, the most absolute lack of apprehension +characterizes such village tragedies, and neither does the victim know +she is a victim, nor the villain that he is a villain. + +But in this case, judging by what "The Cub-Slut" was telling him, it +had not been so; "Gaffer" had gone about it with a certain depravity, +glutting his desires on her, and then selling her, putting her into an +infamous house. The villain had been cruel and intelligent; the victim +had realized that she was one, to the degree that her soul was filled +with desires for vengeance. + +"That man," "The Cub-Slut" ended, sobbing, "took away my name and gave +me a nickname; took away my honour, my life, everything; and if I +cannot be revenged on him because he is dead, I will be revenged on his +family." + +Caesar listened attentively to the woman's explanation, without +interrupting her. Then, when she had finished speaking, he said: + +"And why not go away?" + +"Away? Where?" she asked, astonished. + +"Anywhere. The world is so big! Why do you persist in living in the one +spot where people know you and have a bad opinion of you? Go away from +here. There are countries with more generous sentiments than these old +corners of the world. You do not consider yourself infamous or vile." + +"No, no." + +"Then go away from here. To America, to Australia, anywhere. Perhaps +you can reconstruct your life. At any rate, nobody will call you by your +nickname; nobody will talk familiarly to you. You will conquer or you +will be conquered in the struggle for life. That's evident. You will +share the common lot, but you will not be vilified. Do go." + +"The Cub-Slut" listened to Caesar with eyes cast down. When he ceased, +she stood looking at him intently, and then, without a word, she +disappeared. + + + + +XVI + +PITY, A MASK OF COWARDICE + +_THE MOTHER_ + + +Some days later Caesar was in his office, when a thin old woman, dressed +in black, shot in, crossed the room, and fell on her knees before him. +Caesar jumped up in disgust. + +"What's this? What's going on here?" he asked. + +Amparito entered the room and explained what was going on. The old woman +was "Driveller" Juan's mother. People had told Juan's mother that the +only obstacle to her son's salvation from death was Caesar, and she had +come to implore him not to let them condemn Juan to death. + +"My poor son is a good boy," moaned the old creature; "a woman made him +commit the crime." + +Caesar listened, silent and gloomy, without speaking, and then left the +room. Amparito remained with the old woman, consoling her and trying to +quiet her. + +That night Amparito returned to the task, and dragged the promise from +her husband that he would not act as private attorney at the trial. + +Caesar was ashamed and saddened; he didn't care to go to see anybody; he +was committing treason against his cause. + +"Pity will finish my work or finish me," thought Caesar, walking +about his room. "That poor old woman is worthy of compassion; that is +undeniable. She believes her son is a good boy, and he really is a low, +cowardly ruffian. I ought not to pay any attention to this plea, but +insist on their condemning that miserable wretch to death. But I haven't +any more energy; I haven't any more strength. I can feel that I am going +to yield; the mother's grief moves me, and I do not consider that if +this bully goes free, he is going to turn the town upside down and ruin +all our work. I am lost." + + +_FLIGHT_ + +Caesar confided to his wife that he was daunted; his lack of courage was +a nightmare to him. + +Amparito said that they ought to take a long trip. Laura had invited +them to come to Italy. It was the best thing they could do. + +Caesar accepted her solution, and, as a matter of fact, they went to +Madrid and from there to Italy. + +The Workmen's Club telegraphed to Caesar when the time for the trial +came, and Amparito answered the telegram from Florence, saying that her +husband was ill. + +Never had Caesar felt so agitated as then. He bought the Spanish +newspapers, and expected to find in some one of them the words: "Seor +Moncada is a coward," or "Seor Moncada is a sorry creature and a +traitor." + +When they knew that judgment had been pronounced and Juan condemned to +eight years in the penitentiary, they returned to Madrid. + +Caesar felt humiliated and ashamed; he did not dare show himself in +Castro. The congratulations that some people sent him on the restoration +of his health made his cheeks hot with shame in the solitude of his +office. + +The editor of a newspaper in the Capital of the Province came to call on +Caesar, who was so dispirited that he confided to his visitor that he +was ready to retire from politics. Two days later Caesar saw a big +headline on the first page of the Conservative newspaper of the Capital, +which said: "Moncada is about to retire." + +Amparito applauded her husband's decision, and Caesar made melancholy +plans for the future, founded on the renunciation of all struggle. + +A few days later Caesar received a letter from Castro Duro which made +him quiver. It was signed by Dr. Ortigosa, by San Romn, Camacho, the +apothecary, and the leading members of the Workmen's Club. The letter +was in the doctor's handwriting. It read thus: + +"Dear Sir: We have read in the newspaper from the Capital the +announcement that you are thinking of retiring from politics. We believe +this announcement is not true. We cannot think that you, the champion of +liberty in Castro Duro, would abandon so noble a cause, and leave the +town exposed to the intrigues and the evil tricks of the Clericals. +There is no question in this of whether it would suit you better to +retire from politics, or not. That is of no importance. There is a +question of what would suit our country and Liberty better. + +"If because of the seductions of an easy life, you should withdraw +from us and desert us, you would have committed the crime of +lse-civilization; you would have slain in its flower the re-birth of +the spiritual and civic life of Castro. + +"We do not believe you capable of such cowardice and such infamy, and +since we do not believe you capable of it, we beg you to come to +Castro Duro as soon as possible to direct the approaching municipal +elections.--Dr. Ortigosa, Antonio San Romn, Jos Camacho." + +On reading this letter Caesar felt as if he had been struck with a whip. +Those men were correct; he had no right to retire from the fight. + +This conviction supported him. + +"I have to go to Castro," he said to Amparito. + +"But didn't you say that...?" + +"Yes, but it is impossible." + +Amparito realized that her husband's decision was final, and she said: + +"All right; let us go to Castro." + + + +XVII + +FIRST VICTORY + + +The Conservatives had come into power; the time to change the town +government was approaching. It was customary at Castro, as in all rural +districts in Spain, that in a period of Liberal administration the +majority of the councillors elected should be Liberal, and at a time of +Conservative government, they should be Conservative. + +The former Liberal, Garca Padilla, had gone over to the Conservative +camp, and one was now to see whether he would get his friends into the +Municipality so as to prepare for his own election as Deputy later. + +It was the first time there was going to be a real election at Castro +Duro. Moncada's candidates were almost all persons of good position. +Dr. Ortigosa and a Socialist weaver figured among the candidates, as +representing the revolutionary tendency. The Liberals felt and showed an +unusual activity and anxiety. Caesar started a newspaper which he named +Liberty, Dr. Ortigosa was the soul of this paper, whose doctrines ran +from Liberal Monarchy to Anarchy, inclusive. As the election drew +nearer, the agitation increased. + +In the two electoral headquarters established by Moncada's party, the +coming and going never stopped; some enthusiastic Moncadists came to +headquarters every fifteen minutes, to bring rumours going about and to +get news. + +Don So-and-So had said this; Uncle What's-His-Name was thinking of doing +that; it was nothing but conferences and machinations. The painter had +painted for them gratis a big poster expressing cheers for Liberty, +for Moncada, Dr. Ortigosa, and the Liberal candidates. The caf keeper +brought chairs, without any one's asking him; somebody else brought a +brasier for the clerks; everybody was anxious to do something. The stock +phrase, an electoral battle, was not for them a political commonplace +but a reality. The most trivial things served as a motive for very +long discussions. Such was their identification with the Idea, that +it succeeded in wiping out selfish ends. They all felt honoured and +enthusiastic, at least while it lasted. + +People dreamed of the election. + +When Caesar arrived at the electoral headquarters, it was always a +series of exclamations, of embracing, of advice, that never ended. + +"Don Caesar, such a thing is ... Don Caesar, don't trust So-and-So." + +"We must get rid of them." + +"Not one of them ought to be left." + +He used to smile, because finding himself really loved by the people had +cleansed him of his habitual bitterness and his loss of spirits. When he +had finished receiving recommendations and congratulations, he would +go to an inside room, and there, in the company of a candidate or a +secretary, would read letters and arrange what they had to do. + +The most active of the candidates was Dr. Ortigosa. + +Ortigosa was a narrow-minded, tenacious man. His chief hatred was for +Catholicism and he directed all his attacks at the religion of his +forefathers, as he ironically termed it. + +He had founded a Masonic lodge, named the "Microbe," and whose principal +characteristic was anti-Catholicism. + +Ortigosa carried his propaganda everywhere. He stopped at every corner +to speechify, to talk of his plans. + +Caesar used his motor-car to go about among the villages in the +district. They would go to four or five and talk from balconies, or very +often from the car, like itinerant patent-medicine venders. + +In the little villages these reunions produced a great effect. What was +said served as a topic of conversation for a month. + +Caesar had developed a clear, insinuating eloquence. He knew how to +explain things admirably. Padilla's followers were not asleep; but, as +was natural, they took up the work in another way. They went from shop +to shop, making the shopkeepers see the harmfulness of the Moncadist +politics, promising them advantages. They threatened workmen with +dismissal. There was no great enthusiasm; their campaign was less noisy, +but, in part more certain. + +All the Liberal element of Castro was wrought up, from the temperate +Liberals, who remembered Espartero, to the Anarchists. "Whiskers" and +"Furibis" were the only ones who got together in a tavern to talk about +bombs and dynamite, and one could be sure that neither of them was +capable of anything. Those two had nothing more to do with Ortigosa, +considering him a deserter. + +"You are imbeciles," the doctor told them, with his habitual fury. +"This fight is waking the people up. They are beginning to show their +instincts, and that makes a man strong. The longer and more violent this +fight is, the better; progress will be so much quicker." + +"Agitation, agitation is what we need," cried the doctor; and he himself +was as agitated as a man condemned. + +The Liberals won a great victory; they obtained eight places out of ten +vacancies. + + + +XVIII + +DECLARATION OF WAR + + +The new city government of Castro was the most extraordinary that could +be imagined. Dr. Ortigosa presented motions which caused the greatest +astonishment and stupefaction, not only in the town, but in the whole +province. He conceived magnificent plans and extravagant ideas. He asked +to have the teaching system changed, religious festivals suppressed and +other ones instituted, property abolished, public baths installed, and +that Castro Duro should break with Rome. + +The doctor was a creature born to succeed those revolutionary eagle-men, +like Robespierre and Saint Just, and condemned to live in a miserable +chicken-yard. + +One day when Caesar was working in his office, he was astounded to see +Father Martin enter. + +Father Martin greeted Caesar like an old acquaintance; he had come to +ask him a favour. Suspicious, Caesar prepared to listen. After speaking +of the business that had brought him, the friar began to criticize the +town-government of Castro and to say that it was a veritable mad-house. + +"Your friends," said the priest, smiling, "are unrestrained. They want +to change everything in three days. Dr. Ortigosa is a crazy man...." + +"To my mind, he is the only man in Castro that deserves my estimation." + +"Yes?" + +"Yes." + +"This demoniac says that for him traditions have no value whatsoever." + +"Oh! I think the same thing," said Caesar. "Are you anti-historic?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"I don't believe it." + +"Absolutely. Tradition has no value for me either." + +"The basis of tradition," answered the friar, arguing like a man who +carries the whole of human knowledge in the pocket of his habit, "is the +confidence we all have in the experience of our predecessors. Whether I +be a labourer or a pastor, even though I have lived fifty years, I may +have great experience about my work and about life, but it will never be +so great as the united experience of all those who have preceded me. Can +I scorn the accumulation of wisdom that past generations hand down to +us?" + +"If you wish me to tell you the truth, for me your argument has no +weight," answered Caesar coldly. + +"No?" + +"No. It is undeniable that there is a sum of knowledge that comes from +father to son, from one labourer to another, and from one pastor to +another. But what value have these rudimentary, vague experiences, +compared to the united experience of all the men of science there have +been in the world? It is as if you told me that the stock of knowledge +of a quack was greater and better than that of a wise physician." + +"I am not talking," answered the Father, "of pure science. I am talking +of applied science. Is one of your universal savants going to occupy +himself with the way of sowing or of threshing in Castro?" + +"Yes. He has already occupied himself with it, because he has occupied +himself with the way of sowing or threshing in general, and, what is +more, with the variations in the processes that may be occasioned by the +kind of soil, the climate, etc." + +"And do you believe that such scientific pragmatism can be substituted +for the natural pragmatism born of the people's loins, created by them +through centuries and centuries of life?" + +"Yes. That is to say, I believe it can purify it; that it can cast out +of this pragmatism, as you call it, all that is wrong, absurd, and false +and keep what good there may be." "And for you the absurd and false is +Catholic morality." + +"It is." + +"You are not willing to discuss whether Catholicism is true or is a lie; +you consider it a ruinous doctrine which produces decadence. I have been +told that you have stated that on various occasions." + +"It is true. I have said so." + +"Then we do not agree. Catholicism is useful; Catholicism is efficient." + +"For what? For this life?" + +"Yes." + +"No. Pshaw! It may be useful when it comes to dying? Where there is +Catholicism there is ruin and misery." + +"Nevertheless, there is no misery in Belgium." + +"Certainly there is none, but in that country Catholicism is not what it +is in Spain." + +"Of course it isn't," exclaimed the friar, shouting, "because what +characterizes Spanish Catholicism is Spain, poverty-stricken, fanatic +Spain, and not the Catholicism." + +"I do not believe we are going to understand each other," replied +Caesar; "what seems a cause to me is an effect for you.... Besides, +we are getting away from the question. To you Castro's moral and +intellectual state seems good, does it not?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, to me it seems horrifying. Sordid vice, obscure adultery; +gambling, bullying, usury, hunger... You think it ought to keep on being +just as it was before I was Deputy for the District. Do you not?" + +"I do." + +"That I have been a disturbance, an enemy to public tranquillity." + +"Exactly." + +"Well, this state of things that you find admirable, seems to me +bestially fanatical, repugnantly immoral, repulsively vile." + +"Of course, for you are a pessimist about things as they are, like any +good revolutionist. You believe that you are going to improve life at +Castro. You alone?" "I, united with others." + +"And meanwhile you introduce anarchy into the city." + +"I introduce anarchy! No. I introduce order. I want to finish with the +anarchy already reigning in Castro and make it submit to a thought, to a +worthy, noble thought." + +"And by what right do you arrogate to yourself the power to do this?" + +"By the right of being the stronger." + +"Ah! Good. If you should get to be the weaker, you ought not to complain +if we should misuse our strength." + +"Complain! When you have been misusing it for thousands of years! At +this very moment, we do the talking, we make the protests, but you +people give the orders." + +"We offset your idiotic behaviour. We stand in the way of your utopias. +Do you think you are going to solve the problem of this earth, and that +of Capital? Are you going to solve the sexual question? Are you going +to institute a society without inequality or injustice, as Dr. Ortigosa +said in _La Libertad_ the other day? To me it seems very difficult." + +"To me too. But that is what there is to try for." + +"And when will you attain so perfect an arrangement, so great a harmony, +as the Catholic, created in twenty centuries? When?" + +"We shall attain a different, better harmony." + +"Oh, I doubt it." + +"Naturally. That is just what the pagans might have said to the +Christians; and perhaps with reason, because Christianity, compared to +paganism, was a retrogression." + +"That point we cannot discuss," said Father Lafuerza, getting up. + +Caesar got up too. + +"In spite of all this, I admire you, because I believe you are sincere," +said Father Martin. "But I believe you to be dangerous and I should be +happy to get you out of Castro." + +"I feel the same way about you, and I should also be happy to get you +out of here, as an unwholesome element." + +"So that we are open, loyal enemies." "Loyal! Pshaw! We are ready to do +each other all the harm possible." + +"For my part, yes, and in any way," announced the priest with energy. + +"I, too," Caesar answered; and he raised the curtain of the office door. + +"Don't disturb yourself," said Father Martin. + +"Oh, it's no trouble." + +"Regards to Amparito." + +"Thank you." + +The friar hesitated about going out, as if he wanted to return to the +attack. + +"Afterwards, if you repent..." he said. + +"I shall not repent," Caesar coldly replied. + +"I will drink peace to you." + +"Yes, if I submit. I will drink peace to you too, if I submit." + +"You are going to play a dangerous game." + +"It will be no less dangerous for you than for me." + +"You are playing for your head." + +"Pshaw! We will play for it and win it." + +The friar bowed, and smiling in a forced manner, left the house. + + + +XIX + +THE FIGHT FOR THE ELECTION + + +The Conservatives at Castro Duro were ready to commit the greatest +outrages and the most arbitrary acts so as to win by any methods. + +It was known that a committee consisting of Garca Padilla, Father +Martn Lafuerza, and two Conservative councillors had gone to the +Minister of the Interior to beg that Caesar's victory might be prevented +by whatsoever means. + +"It is necessary that Don Caesar Moncada should not be elected for the +District," said Father Martn. "If he is, the town will remain subjected +to a revolutionary dictatorship. All the Conservative classes, the +merchants, the religious communities, fervently hope that Moncada will +not be made Deputy." + +The committee of Castrians visited other high personages, and they +must have attained their object, because the municipal government +was suspended a few days later, the Workmen's Club closed, the judge +transferred, the Civil Guard was reinforced, and a police inspector +of the worst antecedents was detailed to Castro as commissioner of +elections. + +The Governor of the Province, a political enemy of Caesar's, was a +personal friend of his. + +"For your sake I am ready to lose my future," he had said to him, "but +as for your followers, there is nothing left for me to do but knock them +over the head." + +_La Libertad_, Caesar's newspaper, made a very violent campaign against +Garca Padilla. Ortigosa succeeded in finding out that Padilla had been +tried for embezzlement, and he published that fact. The _Castro News_, +on its side, insulted Caesar and called him a crooked speculator on the +exchange, an upstart, and an atheist. + +The rapidity and violence of the Government's methods produced an effect +of fear on lukewarm Liberals; on the other hand, it moved the decided +ones to show themselves all the more courageous and rash. + +Moncada's party almost immediately took on a revolutionary character. +The lodge, "The Microbe," was at work, and the most radical arrangements +started there. It suited the Government and the Conservatives to have +the Moncada party take this demagogic character. The commissioner had +contaminating persons come on from the Capital for the purpose of sowing +discord in the Workmen's Club. + +These suspicious persons, directed by one they called "Sparkler," used +to gather in the taverns to corrupt the workmen and the peasants, +carrying on a propaganda that was anarchistic in appearance, but in +reality anti-liberal. + +"They are all the same," they used to say; "Liberals and Conservatives +are not a bit different." + +The drunkards and vagabonds were in their glory during those days, +eating and drinking. Nobody knew for certain where the money came from, +but everybody could make certain that it flowed profusely. + +At the same time the commissioner had the most prominent workmen of the +Club arrested and brought suit against them on ridiculous accusations. + +_THE MEETING_ + +The Liberals tried to hold a manifestation in protest, but the +commissioner and the mayor prohibited it. + +The newspaper _La Libertad_ explained what was going on, and was +reprimanded. + +A meeting was organized at the school; the governor had granted +permission. + +The school was not lighted, and Caesar sent a man to the Capital for +acetylene lamps, which were put up on the walls, and which made a +detestable smell. The reunion took place at nine at night. Caesar +presided, and had San Romn, the bookseller, on his right, and Dr. +Ortigosa on his left. + +Behind them on a bench were some of the members of the Workmen's Club. + +The audience was composed of the poorest people; the rich Liberal +element was drawing back; there were day-labourers with blankets around +their shoulders and mouths, women in shawls holding children in their +arms. Among the audience were the _agents provocateurs_ who doubtless +had the intention of making a disturbance; but the Republican bookseller +ordered them thrown out of the place, and, despite their resistance, he +managed to have it done. + +The chief of police, insolent and contemptuous, took his seat at the +table with an officer of the Civil Guard in civilian's, who was there, +he said, to take notes. + +San Romn, the bookseller, gave Caesar a paper with the names of those +who were going to speak. They were many, and Caesar didn't know them. + +The first to whom he gave the floor, in the order of the list, was a +lame boy, who came forward on a crutch, and began to speak. + +The boy expressed himself with great enthusiasm and admirable candour. + +"Who is this youngster?" Caesar asked San Romn. + +"He is the best pupil in our school. We call him 'Limpy.' He comes of a +very poor family. He came to the school a year ago, knowing nothing, +and see him now. He says, and I think he is right, that if he keeps on +studying, he will be an eminent man." + +The audience applauded everything "Limpy" said, and when he finished +they hailed him with shouts and cheers. As he went back to his seat, +Caesar and San Romn shook his hand effusively. + + +_STAND FAST, FELLOW CITIZENS!_ + +After "Limpy," various orators spoke, in divers keys: "Furibis," "Uncle +Chinaman," "Panza," San Romn, a weaver, a railway employee, and Dr. +Ortigosa. The last-named let loose, and launched into such violent terms +that the audience shouted in horrified excitement. Caesar's speech +recommended firmness, and caused scarcely any reaction. The note had +been given by "Limpy," with his ingenuousness and his appealing quality, +and by the doctor with the violence of his words. + +The next day the Governor's commissioner gave orders to close the +school, and Dr. Ortigosa and San Romn were taken to jail. + + +_POLITICAL TRICKS_ + +It was impossible to carry on a campaign of popular agitation, and +Caesar decided to open a headquarters for propaganda next door to each +voting place. + +Meetings in the villages had been suppressed, because at the least +alarm, or even without any motive, the chief of police, with members of +the Civil Guard, went in among the people and dispersed them by shoving +and by pounding rifles on their feet. + +The newspapers couldn't say anything without being immediately reported +and suspended. + +Caesar sent no telegrams of protest, but he kept at work silently. He +was thinking of using all weapons, including even trickery and bribes. + +Garca Padilla and the Government agents found this proceeding even more +dangerous than the former. Caesar offered twenty dollars to anybody that +would give information of any electoral sharp practices which could be +proved. The week of the election he and his friends did not rest. + +At one of the polls in Carrascal, where Caesar had a majority, the tile +bearing the house-number had been changed by night. The real voters had +to wait to cast their votes in one place, and meanwhile the urn was +being filled with ballots for the Government candidate at another place. + +In the hamlet of Val de San Gil, another trick was tried; the polling +place was established in a hay-loft to which one went up by a ladder. +While the villagers were waiting for the ladder to be set up, the urn +was being filled. When the ladder was put into place and the voters went +up one by one, they found that they had all voted already. As the ladder +was narrow, they had to go up singly, and it was not likely they would +have ventured to protest. Besides, there were a number of ruffians in +the place, armed with sticks and pistols, who were ready to club or to +shoot any one protesting. + +In spite of all, Caesar had the election won, always supposing that the +Government did not carry things to the limit; but at the last moment he +learned that more Civil Guards were going to come to Castro, and that +the Government agents had orders to prevent Moncada's victory by any +method. + +In the evening on Saturday, Caesar was told that the commissioner was +in a tavern, with others of the police, giving out ballots for illegal +voters. Caesar went there alone, and entered the tavern. + +The commissioner, on seeing him, grew confused. + +"I know what you are doing," said Caesar. "Be careful, because it may +cost you a term in prison." + +"You are the one that may have to pay by going to prison," replied the +inspector. + +"Just try to arrest me, you poor fool, and I'll shoot your head off!" + +The police inspector jumped up from the table where he was seated, and, +as he went out, he let one of the ballots fall. Caesar looked over the +men who were with the police inspector; one of them was "Sparkler." Some +days before he had come to Moncada's headquarters to offer to work for +him, and he was the director of the contaminating persons sent to Castro +by the Government. + +A CLANDESTINE MEETING + +When he returned to the headquarters, they told him there was a meeting +in "Furibis's" tavern at nine that night. Caesar got there a little +later than the time set. The place was gloomy, and had some big earthen +jars in it. They had put a table at the back of this cave, and an +acetylene light illuminated it. + +Those present formed a semicircle around the table. + +Caesar knocked at the tavern, and they opened the door to him; a workman +who was speaking delayed his peroration, and they waited until Caesar +had reached the table and got seated. The atmosphere was suffocating. +Everything was closed so that the Civil Guards would not see the light +through the windows and suspect that there was a meeting being +held there. The workmen were, for the most part, masons, weavers, +brickmakers. There were women there with their little ones asleep in +their bosoms. The air one breathed there was horrible. It looked like +a gathering of desperate people. They had learned that their arrested +comrades had been beaten in the prison, and that San Romn and Dr. +Ortigosa were in the infirmary as a result. + +_EULOGY OF VIOLENCE_ + +The excitement among those present was terrible. "Limpy" was the most +strenuous; he was in favour of their all going out that moment and +storming the jail. + +When they had all spoken, Caesar got up and asked them to wait. If he +won the election the next day, he promised them that the prisoners +should be freed immediately; if he did not win and the prisoners +remained there... + +"Then what is to be done?" said a voice. + +"What is to be done? I am in favour of violence," answered Caesar; +"burning the jail, setting fire to the whole town; I am ready for +anything." + +At that moment he really did think he had been too lenient. + +"Man's first duty is to break the law," he shouted, "when it is a bad +law. Everything is due to violence and war. I will go to the post of +danger this very second, whenever you wish. Shall we storm the jail? +Let's go right now." + +This storming of the jail didn't seem an easy thing to the others. One +might try to climb down the hill and surprise the prison guards, but it +would be difficult. According to "Furibis," the best thing would be for +ten or twelve of them to go out into the street with guns and pistols +and shoot right and left. + +At this disturbance the Civil Guard would come out, and that would be +the moment for the others to enter the jail and drag the prisoners out +into the street. + +Some one else said that it seemed better to him for them to approach +the Civil Guards' quarters cautiously, kill the sentinels, and take +possession of the rifles. + +"Decide," said Caesar; "I am ready for anything." + +Caesar's attitude made the excited ones grow calmer and understand that +it was not so easy to storm the jail. + +It was about eleven when the meeting at the tavern ended. They had +decided to wait and see what would happen the next day, and they left +the place one by one. + +"We will escort you, Don Caesar," several of them said. + +"No. What for?" + +"Remember there are people who might attack you. 'Driveller' Juan is at +large in Castro." + +"Really?" + +"Yes." + +"That bully can't do anything to me." + +* * * * * + +_AT NIGHT_ + +Caesar went out of the tavern, pulled down his hat, and wrapped himself +in his cape. He had not brought the motor, to avoid being recognized. It +was a cloudy night, but still and beautiful. + +Before they got out of the town a small boy came up to Caesar. + +"'The Cub-Slut' sent me to tell you to come to her house; she wants to +speak to you." + +"I will go tomorrow." + +"No. You must come now, because what she has to say is very important," +shouted the youngster. + +"Well, I can't go now." + +The youngster protested, and Caesar continued on his way. "Limpy" and +"Uncle Chinaman" followed him. Caesar was walking in the middle of the +highway, when, about half way home, a man on the run passed him. No +doubt he was going to give some signal. + +"Limpy" and "Chinaman" shouted over and over: + +"Don Caesar! Don Caesar!" + +Caesar halted, and "Chinaman" and "Limpy" ran up to him. + +"What's going on?" asked Caesar. + +"They are lying in wait for you," said "Limpy." "Didn't you see a man go +past running?" + +"Yes." + +"We are going to stay with you. We will sleep at your house," said +"Chinaman," "and if they attack us, we will defend ourselves." + +He showed a pistol which he carried in his sash. + +The three walked on together, and as they passed a little grove in front +of the palace, a shadow passed by, crawling, and fled away. + +"He was there," said "Chinaman." + +They went into the house. Amparito, with the old nurse, was praying +before a lighted image. + + + + +XX + +CONFIDENCE + +_YES, HE IS THE HERO_ + + +When he got up, Caesar found a lot of letters and notices from his +followers all over the district, giving him pointers. + +With the help of a manservant who used to go about with him, he himself +got the motor ready and prepared to visit the polls. + +As he got into the car, the youngster of the night before appeared with +a letter. + +"From 'The Cub-Slut'; please read it right away." + +"Give it to me; I will read it." + +"She told me you were to read it right away." + +"Yes, man, yes." + +Caesar took the letter and put it distractedly into his pocket. The +motor started and Caesar did not read the note. At eight in the morning +he was on his way to Cidones. The polls had been established legally. + +It was raining gently. As he drew near Cidones, the sun appeared. The +river was turbid and mud-coloured. Thick grey fog-clouds were rolling +about the plain; when they gathered below the hill where Caesar stood, +they gave it the appearance of an island in the middle of the sea. From +the chimneys of the town the smoke came out like hanks of spun silver, +and bells were ringing through this Sunday morning calm. + +Caesar stopped at an inn which was a little outside the town. The +blacksmith, an old Liberal, came out to receive him. The old man had +been suffering with rheumatism for some while. "How goes it?" Caesar +asked him. + +"Very well. I have been to vote for you." + +"And your health?" + +"Now that spring is coming, one begins to get better." + +"Yes, that is true," said Caesar; "I hadn't noticed that the trees are +in bloom." + +"Oh, yes, they are out. In a little while we shall have good weather. +It's a consolation for old folks." + +Caesar took leave of the blacksmith and got into the motor. + +* * * * * + +_CAESAR! CAESAR!_ + +"Yes, spring is in flower," said Caesar. "I will remove all the +obstacles and men's strength will come to life, which is action. This +town, then others, and finally all Spain.... May nothing remain hidden +or closed up; everything come to life, out into the sunlight. I am a +strong man; I am a man of iron; there are no obstacles for me. The +forces of Nature will assist me. Caesar! I must be Caesar!" + +The automobile began to move in a straight line toward Castro. + +The ground on both sides of the highway fled away rapidly. + +The automobile lessened its pace at the foot of the hill, and began to +climb. + +It went in by an old gate in the wall, which was called the Cart Gate. + +The street of the same name, a street in the poor suburb, was narrow +and the houses low; it was paved with cobbles. A little farther along +several lanes formed a crossroads. + +This was a quarter of brothels and of gipsies who made baskets. + +When he reached the crossroads, in the narrowest part there was a cart +blocking the street. The automobile stopped. + +"What's the matter?" asked Caesar, standing up. + +At that moment two shots rang out, and Caesar fell wounded into the +bottom of the car. The chauffeur saw that the discharges came from the +low windows of a loom, and backing the motor, he returned rapidly, +passed out the Cart Gate, at risk of running into it, went down to the +highway, and drove at high speed to Caesar's house. + +A moment later "Driveller" Juan and "Sparkler" came out of the loom and +disappeared down a lane. The judge who went to take depositions learned +from the chauffeur that Caesar had received a letter as he was getting +into the car. He had the wounded man's clothes searched, and they found +"The Cub-Slut's" letter, in which she warned Caesar of the danger he +was in. Fate had kept Caesar from reading it. + +* * * * * + +_THE RED FLAG_ + +The news that Caesar was seriously wounded ran through the town like a +train of powder. + +A movement of terror shook everybody. "Limpy," "Furibis," and the other +hysterical ones gathered at the tavern and agreed to set fire to the +monastery of la Pea. "Furibis" had arms in his house and divided them +among his comrades. A woman fastened a red rag to a stick, and they left +Castro by different paths and met opposite Cidones. + +Nine of them went armed, and various others followed behind. + +On reaching Cidones, one of the party advanced up the lane and saw two +pairs of Civil Guards. They discussed what they had better do, and the +majority were in favour of going into Moro's inn, which was at the +entrance to the town, and waiting until night. + +They did go in there and told Moro what they had just done. The +inn-keeper listened with simulated approval, and brought them wine. This +Moro was not a very commendable party; he had been convicted for robbery +several times and had a bad reputation. + +While the revolutionists were drinking and talking, Moro stole out +without any one's noticing, and went to see the chief of the Civil +Guard, and told him what was going on. "They are armed, then?" asked the +chief. + +"Yes." + +"And how many are they?" + +"Nine with arms." + +"We are only five. Do you want to do something?" + +"What is it?" + +"At dusk we will pass by the inn. I will knock. And you shall say to +them: 'Here is the chief of the Civil Guard; hide your arms.' They will +hide them, and we will arrest them." + +"Shall I get something for doing this favour?" asked Moro. + +"Naturally." + +"What will they give me?" + +"You will see." + +The ruse worked as they had plotted it; Moro played the comedy to +perfection. + +On learning that the chief of the Civil Guard wanted to come in, the +revolutionists, on the landlord's advice, left their arms in the next +room. At the same instant the window panes burst to bits and the +soldiers of the Civil Guard fired three charges from close up. Two women +and four men fell dead; the wounded, among whom was "Limpy," were taken +to the hospital, and only one person was lucky enough to escape. + +* * * * * + +_FATE_ + +At the chief headquarters of Moncada's followers, a strange phenomenon +was noticed; on the preceding days they had been chock full; that night +there were not over ten or a dozen men from the Workmen's Club collected +by a table lighted by a petroleum lamp. The pharmacist, Camacho, +presided. + +The news of the election was worse every minute. At the last hour the +Padillists, knowing that Moncada was wounded, were behaving horribly. In +the polls at Villamiel the tellers had fled with the blank ballots, and +the Conservative boss arranged the outcome of the election from his +house. + +As the teller from Santa Ins, who was a poor Liberal school-master, +was on his way from the hamlet with the papers, six men had seized him, +had snatched the returns from him, changed all the figures, and sent +them to the municipal building at Castro full of blots. + +They had fired over twenty shots at the teller for Paralejo. Many +of Moncada's emissaries, on knowing that Caesar was wounded and his +campaign going badly, had passed over to the other party. + +Only Moncada could have rallied that flight. His most faithful gave one +another uneasy looks, hoping some one would say: "Come along!" so that +they could all have gone. Camacho alone kept up the spirits of the +meeting. + +At nine o'clock at night the chief of police entered the headquarters, +accompanied by two Civil Guards. + +"Close up here, please," said the inspector. + +"Why?" asked the pharmacist. + +"Because I order you to." + +"You have no right to order that." + +"No? Here, get out, everybody, and _you_ are under arrest." + +Those present took to their heels; the pharmacist went to jail to keep +San Romn and Ortigosa company, and the Club was shut up.... + +* * * * * + +The election was won by Padilla. + + + +XXI + +OUR VENERABLE TRADITIONS! OUR HOLY PRINCIPLES! + + +The banquet in honour of Padilla was given at the Caf del Comercio. +All the important persons of the town, many of whom had been Caesar's +adherents the day before, had gathered to feast the victor. The majority +gorged enthusiastically, the chief of police distinguishing himself by +his hearty applause. A fat lawyer presided, a greasy person with a black +beard, a typical coarse, dirty, tricky Moor. Next to him sat a small +attorney, pock-marked, pale of face. By dessert one no longer heard +anything but cries of "Hurrah for Padilla!" among the smoke of the big +cigars they were all smoking. + +Then the lawyer with the black beard arose and began to orate. + +He spoke slowly and with great solemnity. + +"This meeting shows," he said in a strong and sonorous voice, "your +enthusiasm and your loyalty for the good cause. Never, never will +we permit outsiders devoid of religion and patriotism to upset the +existence of our beloved city." (Applause.) "We will defend our +venerated traditions by all the means in our power; we will not permit +the hydra of anarchy to rise up in Castro; and if it should arise +to attack our holy principles, we shall crush it under our heels." +(Applause.) "When men turn their backs on God, when they preach the +relaxation of discipline, and licentiousness, when they are not willing +to acknowledge any authority, divine or human, then it is time for +decent men to form a bulwark with their breasts, for the defence of +their traditions. We are, before all else, Catholics and Spaniards; and +we will not consent to having Anarchists, Masons, sacrilegious persons +get the mastery of this sacred soil, and wipe out its memories, and spot +the most holy rights of our mother, the Church." (Ovation.) + +"Hurrah for Jesus Christ and His Immaculate Church!" shouted a priest, a +bit upset by his wine, in a raucous voice. + +Next, the fat, greasy lawyer paraded all the glories of Spain, with +their appropriate adjectives: the Cid, Columbus, Isabella the Catholic, +the Great Captain, Hernn Corts.... Then a couple of dozen orators +spoke, and the meeting ended very late at night. + + +CASTRO DURO TODAY + +Today Castro Duro has definitely abandoned her intentions of living, and +return to order, as the weekly Conservative paper says; the fountains +have dried, the school been closed, the little trees in Moncada Park +have been pulled up. The people emigrate every year by hundreds. Today a +mill shuts down, tomorrow a house falls in; but Castro Duro continues +to live with her venerated traditions and her holy principles, not +permitting outsiders devoid of religion and patriotism to disturb her +existence, not spotting the most holy rights of the Church, our mother; +enveloped in dust, in dirt, and in filth, asleep in the sun, in the +midst of her grainless fields. + + + + +XXII + +FINIS GLORI MUNDI + +_FROM A SOCIETY COLUMN_ + + +To be in Castro Duro and not visit Don Caesar Moncada's house is a +veritable crime of _lse-art_. Seor Moncada, who is a most intelligent +person, has gathered in his aristocratic residence a collection of +precious things, old pictures, antiques, sculptures of the XV and +XVI Centuries, badges of the Inquisition. Seor Moneada has made +a conscientious study of the primitive Castilian painters, and is +certainly the person most at home in that line. + +His most beautiful wife, who is also a distinguished artist, has aided +him in forming this collection, and they have both gone about by +automobile through all the towns in this province and the neighbouring +ones, collecting everything artistic they found. + +At Don Caesar's house we had the pleasure of greeting the learned +Franciscan Father Martin, to whom the population of Castro Duro owes so +much. + +At a halt in the conversation we asked Seor Moncada: + +"And you, Don Caesar, have no idea of going back into politics?" + +And he answered us, smiling: + +"No, no. What for? I am nothing, nothing." + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Caesar or Nothing, by Pio Baroja + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAESAR OR NOTHING *** + +This file should be named 8csar10.txt or 8csar10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8csar11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8csar10a.txt + +Produced by Eric Eldred, David Widger, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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