_Euthanasia removes to Lucca.--Conference
with Tripalda.--Tripalda turns Informer._
One of the first effects of Euthanasia's entrance into the conspiracy of
Bondelmonti, was a journey from Florence to Lucca. It was necessary for
her to be there some time before the breaking out of the plot, that she
might be able to take the part allotted to her. She quitted her native
city with a heavy heart. It was at the end of the month of November; and
the lowering skies portended rain, and the bare earth, stripped of its
summer ornaments, appeared chilled by the cold blast that passed over
it. The olive and ilex woods, and the few cork trees and cypresses, that
grew on the declivities of the hills, diversified the landscape with
their sober green: but they had a funereal appearance; they were as the
pall of the dying year, and the melancholy song of their waving branches
was its dirge.
Euthanasia's mind was no store-house of blithe thoughts. She felt deeply
the danger of the project in which she had embarked; and yet its danger
was one of the considerations that reconciled her to it. To have
encountered Castruccio with superior force, and to have despoiled him of
all power with security to herself, would have been hateful to her
feelings; and it appeared to her that in acting such a part she would
have merited the disapprobation of mankind. But she approached the
foundations of his power by a path encompassed with danger; she groped
through the murky air of night, and owls and bats flitted before her,
and flapped their wings in her eyes; her footing was unsteady;--a
precipice yawned on each side, and the probable result of her
undertaking was ignominy and death. She felt all this. The name of
Tripalda had extinguished in her bosom every hope of success. She felt
that the purity of her intentions would excuse her in her own eyes; and
she could then endure with patience all of bitter and evil that might
befal her. She could not say in the words of the poet,
Roll on, the chariot-wheels of my dear plots,
And bear mine ends to their desired marks!
As yet there's not a rub of wit, or gulph of thought,
No rocky misconstruction, thorny maze,
Or other let of any doubtfulness:
As yet thy way is smooth and plain,
Like the green ocean in a silent calm[4].
No! the course she followed was a slippery path, that overhung a chasm
terrible as death: the sea on which she sailed was rife with quicksands,
and its breakers threatened instant destruction.
Sometimes the memory of her peaceful life at Florence obtruded itself
upon her, and more than that, her charitable occupations when she
attended the sick in that city, and whence, as from a rough-hewn chalice
containing nectarian drink, she had quaffed happiness. Sometimes she
reproached destiny that she had not fallen a victim to her perilous
exertions; but she endeavoured to shut out these remembrances from her
mind, to look before her and not behind. What though dense clouds hid
the future, and thunder muttered above? she was borne on by a virtuous
purpose, which would be to her as the wings of an eagle, or the sure
foot of the precipice-walking chamois.
And then, if the enterprise succeeded, she would save Castruccio. But
for her he would be sacrificed by his insatiable enemies. But her hand
would avert their daggers, her voice bid them "Hold!"----Her imagination
pictured the whole scene. He would be seized by his enemies, and expect
death; he would be conveyed aboard one of the vessels of the king of
Naples; and she would be there, to watch over and tend upon him. At
first he might repulse, perhaps spurn her: but patient forbearance, and
her meek demeanour would soften him; he would see the tears of her
devotion; he would hear her defence; and he would forgive her. They
would disembark on some lovely island on the sea of Baiæ--his prison. A
resting-place, whose walls would be the ocean, and whose bars and locks
the all-encompassing air--would be allotted to him on the island of
Ischia. Thence he would survey the land where the philosophers of past
ages lived; he would study their lessons; and their wisest lore would
descend into his soul, like the dews of heaven upon the parched frame of
the wanderer in the Arabian desarts. By degrees he would love obscurity.
They would behold together the wondrous glories of the heavens, and the
beauty of that transparent sea, whose floor of pebbles, shells and
weeds, is as a diamond-paved palace of romance, shone on and illustrated
as it is by the sun's rays. He would see the flame arise from Vesuvius,
and behold afar off the smoke of the burning lava,--such was the emblem
of his former life; but he would then have become, like the land he
trod, an extinguished volcano; and the soil would prove more fertile,
more rich in beauty and excellence, than those cold natures which had
never felt the vivifying heat of mighty and subdued passions.
Thus she dreamed; and thus she cheated herself into tranquillity. She
arrived at Pisa, where she was met by Orlando Quartezzani, who explained
to her much of the minutiæ of the plot, and besought her to hasten its
execution. "I pine, in exile," he said, "still to behold that ungrateful
tyrant seated on a throne, which, if it be not formed of our skulls, yet
exists only to torture and destroy us. My brothers are tardy, those
Avogadii, lazy and inert. They are still at Lucca; they see its fertile
vallies; they live among its mountains. Sometimes indeed I dare go to
the top of the hill of San Giuliano, and behold its towers almost at my
feet; but I long to make one with my fellow-citizens, to enter again
into the lists of life."
Euthanasia quitted Pisa. She crossed the plain to the foot of the hills,
and passed along through Pugnano and Ripafrata. She was very melancholy.
How could it be otherwise? She had entered upon a race, whose penalty
was death, whose prize was yet hidden in the mists of futurity;--it
might turn out even more blighting and terrible than death itself. But
there was no room for retreat; the path was narrow, and her chariot
could not turn; she must fix her eyes upon the goal, for be the
consequence good or evil, she must arrive there, she must there seek and
find the fulfilment of her destiny.
She entered Lucca at the beginning of the month of December; and she
went immediately to the palace which had been assigned her by the
Lucchese government, in compensation for her demolished castle. The same
evening that she arrived, the two chiefs of the conspiracy, Ugo
Quartezzani and Tripalda, visited her. The name of Tripalda, so often
and so fearfully repeated by the dying Beatrice, made her shrink from
all communication with one who had tarnished his life with the foulest
crimes. On this occasion she was obliged however to smother her
indignation; and he, from a sense of his own importance, was more
presumptuous and insolent than she had ever seen him.
"Madonna," said he, stalking forward with an erect mien, and half shut
eyes, which, although they were not bent on the ground, yet ever avoided
the direct gaze of those to whom he spoke;--"Madonna, I much praise your
wisdom in entering into this conspiracy. We all know that, when you
choose to exert your abilities, you are the cleverest woman in Tuscany.
This is a period which will shew you in your true colours."
"Mester Battista, let us leave to speak of me and my poor talents: we
come to talk of far weightier matter; and I bear a message to Messer Ugo
from his brother Orlando."
They now began to speak of the future; but Tripalda would allow no one
to talk but himself; and he walked up and down the room delivering his
opinion in a loud voice.
"Hush, for Jesu's sake!" cried Ugo, "some one will overhear us, and we
are all lost."
Tripalda looked suspiciously around, approached on tiptoe the sopha on
which Euthanasia and Ugo sat, and, speaking in a whisper, he said,--"I
tell you we shall succeed. Look! I have already sharpened the dagger
which is to stab the tyrant to the heart."
"Now the Mother of God defend him!" cried Euthanasia, turning pale:
"that is beyond my contract. Bear witness, Ugo, that I entered into this
plot on condition that his life should be saved."
"Women! women!" said Tripalda, contemptuously. "By the body of Bacchus!
I wonder what Bondelmonti meant by introducing a woman into the plot.
One way or another they have spoiled, and ever will spoil, every design
that the wisdom of man has contrived. I say he must die."
"I say he shall not, sir priest. And remember, you are not one who dares
place your warrant on the life of Antelminelli. That is guarded by
spirits of whose very existence you are ignorant; it is guarded by
devoted love and disinterested virtue; and you shall not endanger it."
"You indeed talk of spirits, of which I and all the wise among men know
nothing. In the present case I do not exactly see what devoted love has
to do with a conspiracy to overthrow the party beloved; and as for
disinterested virtue, all the virtue I know any thing about bids me stab
the tyrant. He shall die."
"Nay, as you say that you understand me not, you may well leave to speak
of what dwells without the circle of your intelligence. Are you not a
priest? a man of peace? and dare you avow such thoughts? They shame your
profession; and, if any spark of virtue dwelt within you, you would now
blush as deep a red, as your hands would shew, stained with that blood
you think to shed."
"Madonna," said Ugo, "you are now animated beyond all prudence. Speak
mildly; and Messer Tripalda will yield."
"That will I not!" cried Tripalda, compressing his thin lips, and
elevating his high brows. "I have doomed him to death; and he shall die.
By my soul's salvation, he shall!"
"Then is your soul lost; for he shall live."
The gentle modulation of Euthanasia's voice, now first attuned to
command, carried with it an irresistible force, while she extended her
fair arm in earnest gesture; then, calming herself, she continued: "I
entered into this conspiracy on one condition; and I might well say, 'If
you keep not your words with me, neither will I keep mine with you; if
you betray me, so will I betray you.' But I say not this; I have other
means of silencing this man. I know you, Tripalda; and you are well
aware, that I can see through the many folds which you have wound round
your heart. You oblige me to menace you. I can tell a tale, Tripalda, a
tale the knowledge of whose exceeding horror is confined to your own
polluted heart; but whose slightest sketch would fill mankind with
detestation, and your destruction would quickly follow. Dare not even to
imagine the death of Castruccio; while he is safe, you are safe;
otherwise you know what will follow."
"So far from knowing, I cannot even guess your meaning," replied
Tripalda; but with a subdued voice and a humble manner. "In truth,
Madonna, you speak enigmas to me. But since you are resolved to save the
life of the prince, so let it be. But I suppose you will allow us to
secure his person."
"We have a plan for that," said Euthanasia, turning to Ugo, "a plan to
which I hope you will accede: for Castruccio must be saved; Bondelmonti
entered into that engagement with me, before I became a party to your
plot."
"It shall be as you command," replied Tripalda, who had shifted his
place several times, and seemed to stand as uneasily before the now
softened looks of Euthanasia, as a hypocrite well might before the eyes
of the accusing angel. "I will leave you now," continued he, "for I
promised to be with Nicola dei Avogadii at eight o'clock, and seven
struck some time ago. Good night, Madonna; when we again meet, I hope
you will be better pleased with my intentions, and thank me for my
exertions in favour of your friend, the prince."
He quitted the room. Euthanasia followed him with her eyes until he had
closed the door; and then she said to Ugo, "I distrust that man; and if
my purpose did not lift me alike above fear and hope, I should dread
him. But do you have a care, Ugo; and, if you regard your own safety,
watch him, as you would one whose sword you must parry, until the deed
you meditate be accomplished."
"You judge hastily, Madonna; he is the sworn enemy of Castruccio; and I
believe him to be, on this occasion at least, trust-worthy. I cannot
divine what you know concerning him; it is surely something black, for
he cowered beneath your words. But a man may be one day wicked, and good
the next; for self-interest sways all, and we are virtuous or vicious as
we hope for advantage to ourselves. The downfal of Antelminelli will
raise him; and therefore he is to be trusted."
"That is bad philosophy, and worse morality, Ugo: but we have no time to
dispute now; remember, that I tell you to beware of Tripalda. Now let us
occupy ourselves in worthier considerations."
After a long conversation, in which all was concluded except the exact
period for the breaking out of the conspiracy, Ugo retired, to prepare
messengers for Pisa and Florence, that they might, with the concurrence
of their associates, determine the conduct of this last act of the
tragedy. Euthanasia was left alone. She had been roused to the
expression of anger by the insolent cruelty of Tripalda; but her nature,
mild as it was, quickly forgot the feeling of indignation, and now other
thoughts (oh, far other thoughts!) possessed her. She was again in
Lucca. She ascended to the tower of her palace; and the waning moon,
which shone in the east, shed its yellow and melancholy light over the
landscape: she could distinguish afar the abrupt and isolated rock on
which the castle of Valperga had stood; it formed one of the sides of
the chasm which the spirits of creation had opened to make free the
course of the Serchio. The scene was unchanged; and even in winter the
soul of beauty hovered over it, ready again to reanimate the corpse,
when the caducean wand of spring should touch it. The narrow, deep
streets of Lucca lay like the allies of a prison around her; and she
longed for the consummation of the deed in which she had engaged, when
she might fly for ever from a scene, which had been too dear to her, not
to make its sight painful in her altered situation.
In the mean time, while in deep security of thought she brooded over the
success of her attempt, the hour which yet lingered on the dial was big
with her ruin; and events which threatened to destroy her for ever,
already came so near, that their awful shadow began to be thrown on the
path of her life.
Tripalda had left her, burning with all the malice of which his evil
nature was so amply susceptible. He had learned that the prisoner of the
castle in the Campagna di Roma had survived, and had fallen into the
hands of Euthanasia: and he knew that his fate depended upon disclosures
that she was enabled to make. The prisoner was now dead; but both
Castruccio and Euthanasia had become in part the depositaries of her
secret; Euthanasia had heard his name pronounced, mingled with shrieks
and despair, by the lips of the lovely maniac; and, after her death, she
had revealed her suspicions to the prince, while he in anger forbade the
priest ever again to approach his palace or his person. In disgracing
and banishing him from his presence, Castruccio had incurred the penalty
of his hate; and he was overjoyed to think, that in destroying the man
who had injured him, he should also free himself from one who was
conscious of the most perilous secrets concerning him. He had been loud
in his abuse of the prince; but none had listened to him, except those
who sympathized in his feelings; and Antelminelli despised him too
heartily to take heed to what he said.
Thus, with the wily heart and wicked design of a serpent beneath a
magpie's exterior, this self-named Brutus of modern Italy, whose feigned
folly was a cover for pride, selfishness and all uncharitableness,
fomented a conspiracy in Lucca to overthrow a tyrant, who well deserved
to fall, but who was as pure as the milk-white dove, if compared with
the sable plumage of this crow. He had endeavoured to intice Euthanasia
to participate in the plot, he hardly knew why, secure that, if she were
persuaded to enter into it, it would be pregnant with nothing but misery
and suffering for her. The scene which had taken place in her palace,
overturned all his ideas. Castruccio despised and banished him; but he
had never menaced the disclosure of those secrets, whose smallest effect
would be to immure him for ever within the dungeons of some convent. He
therefore hated, rather than feared him; but the words of Euthanasia had
terrified his soul, and with his terror awakened all those feelings of
hellish malignity with which his heart was imbued. To destroy her, and
save himself, was now the scope of his desire. To betray the conspiracy,
and deliver over his confederates to death, was of little moment in his
eyes, compared with the care he had for his own preservation, and the
satisfaction of his new-born revenge. All night he slept not; he walked
up and down his room, easing his heart with curses, and with images of
impending ruin for his enemies. When morning dawned, he hasted to
Agosta, and made his way into the private cabinet of Vanni
Mordecastelli.
Castruccio was at Pistoia, and would not return until the following day;
in the mean time Mordecastelli was the governor of Lucca. He was seated
in his cabinet with his secretary when Tripalda entered: like a true
courtier, he hardly deigned to look on the man who was disgraced by his
prince.
"Messer Tripalda," said he, "are you still in Lucca? I thought some one
told me that you had returned to your canonicate. Have you any business
with me? Be brief; for you see that I am occupied."
"Messer Vanni, I have business with you; but it must be private. Do not
look thus contemptuously on me; for you know that I have been useful to
you before; and I shall now be so again."
"I do not much care to trust myself alone with you; for they say that
you have sworn destruction to all the prince's friends. However, I am
armed," he continued, taking a dagger from his bosom, and drawing it
from it's sheath; "so, Ubaldo, you may leave us alone."
"And, Ubaldo, do you hear," cried Tripalda, "it is as much as your life
is worth to tell any one that I am with the governor. The very walls of
the palace must not know it."
"And are you the lord to threaten me, Messer Canonico? though you have a
fool's head, pray keep a discreet tongue."
"Silence, Ubaldo," said Mordecastelli. "Go, and remember what he says:
you shall answer for it, if it be known that this visit has taken
place.----And now, Sir Priest, what have you to say to me? if it be not
something well worth the hearing, you shall pay a rich penalty for this
impertinence of yours."
"Remember, Messer Vanni, who put you on the right scent in Leodino's
plot; remember the golden harvest which that brought you in. Remember
this; and put aside your pride and insolence."
"I remember well the detestable part that you then played, and it had
been well that your head had been struck off instead of Leodino's. But
you trifle now, and I have no time to waste; if you have any fresh scene
of villainy to disclose, be quick."
"I have discovered a plot of the highest consequence. One that counts
among the conspirators the first citizens of the principality. But I
must make my conditions before I tell you further: I hold the life of
your lord in my grasp; and, before I part with my advantage, I must be
paid its full worth."
"Conditions! Aye, they shall be generous and ample ones; if you fairly
tell all, you shall be believed on your word, and not be put to the
torture, to extort that which craft may make you conceal: these are all
the conditions a villain, such as you, deserves. Come, waste no more
time; if your plot be worth the telling, you well know that you will not
go unrewarded; if this is all smoke, why perchance you may be smothered
in it; so no more delay."
Tripalda opened each door, peeped behind the hangings, under the tables,
and chairs; and then, approaching as softly as a cat who sees a mouse
playing in the moonshine, or a spider who beholds his prey unconsciously
cleaning his wings within an inch of him, he sat down beside
Mordecastelli and whispered:
"The Avogadii."
"Well, what of them? I know that they hate Antelminelli; but they are
not powerful enough to do any mischief."
"The Quartezzani."
"Nay, then this is of deeper interest. Have they turned vipers? By St.
Martin! they have a sting!"
Tripalda in a low and solemn voice entered into a detail of the plot.
"And now," said he, when he had nearly concluded, "except for one
circumstance, you had not heard a word of this from me."
"You are a villain to say so;--but what is this circumstance? the love
you bear your prince?"
"The love I bear him might have made me bring the Pope to Lucca with
thirty thousand Gascons at his heels, but not betray a plot against him.
No truly it was not that; but they have admitted a woman into it; and,
as there is neither safety nor success where they are, I made my retreat
in good time."
"A woman! What, Berta Avogadii?"
"One of far higher rank; the countess of Valperga."
"Nay, then, it is all a lie, Tripalda, and, by the Virgin, you shall
repent having amused me with your inventions! The countess of Valperga!
She is too wise and too holy to mingle in one of your midnight plots:
besides, once upon a time, to my knowledge she loved Castruccio."
"The old proverb tells us, Vanni, that sweetest love turns to bitterest
hate. Remember Valperga! Do you think she has forgotten it? Remember her
castle, her power, the state she used to keep, when she was queen of
those barren mountains! Do you think she has forgotten that? She might
carry it humbly; but she, like the rest of those painted ruins, is proud
at heart, proud and revengeful; why she has vowed the death of her
quondam lover."
"I would not believe it, if an angel were to tell me; do you think then
that I will credit such a tale, when it is given out by a devil like
you? Nay, do not frown, Sir Priest; the devil loves to clothe himself in
a holy garb; and report says that you have more than once shewn the
cloven foot."
"You are pleased to jest, Lord Governor," replied Tripalda, with a
ghastly smile, "do you know the hand-writing of Orlando Quartezzani?"
"As I know my own."
"Read then that letter."
It was a letter from Orlando to Tripalda, conjuring him to be speedy in
his operations, and saying that, since the countess of Valperga appeared
to enter into the plot with a willing heart, all difficulties would now
be easily removed.
Vanni put down the letter with a look of mingled contempt and
indignation. "And who else have ye among you? I expect next to hear that
some of the saints or martyrs, or perhaps the Virgin herself has come
down to aid you."
"Here is a list of the conspirators; and here are letters which will
serve as further proofs of the truth of my disclosures."
"Give them to me. And now let me tell you, my excellent fox, that I by
no means trust you, and that, knowing your tricks of old, I may well
suspect that, after trying to get all you can from us by betraying your
associates, you will endeavour to get all you can out of them by
assisting them to escape; so, my good fellow, you must for the present
remain under lock and key."
"I hoped that I had deserved better----"
"Deserved! Aye, you deserve the torture, as much as the vilest heretic
who denies the passion of our Redeemer. You know yourself to be an
arch-traitor, and, by the saints! you shall be treated like one. Come,
there is a better room for your prison than you deserve: go in
peaceably; for if you oblige me to use force, you shall lodge for the
next week in one of those holes underground, of which I believe you have
some knowledge, since your fiendish malice contrived them."
"Well, Vanni, I yield. But I hope that your future gratitude----"
"Oh! trust to my gratitude. I know my trade too well not to encourage
such hell-hounds as you are."
[Footnote 4: The Dumb Knight by Machin: Act IV.]