floor. “Remain here,” said they, “till supper time, as we would not let
your mother see you, to distress her.” One of them remained with him,
and they sat down by the fire before the table already prepared. The
other went to the curate of St. Felicita, a good worthy man, and said to
him, “I come to you, reverend Sir, with that confidence due to you. It
is true we are three brothers, among which is one whose name is Matteo,
who, yesterday, on account of some debt, was put into prison, and has
taken it so much to heart that we really think he is losing his senses,
and going mad. In every thing he appears Matteo as heretofore, except
in one thing, that is, he has taken it into his head that he is become
another man than Matteo. Did you ever hear of such a thing? he pretends
that he is a certain Grasso, a carver, well known to him, who has a shop
behind San Giovanni, and his own home is St. Mario del Fiore, and no one
can get this out of his noddle; so that we have got him out of prison,
brought him here, and put him into a room to conceal him, lest these
absurd notions should be made public: therefore, to conclude, we beg of
you, for charity sake, that you would kindly come to our house and speak
to him, and endeavour to cure him of this extraordinary hallucination:
and, indeed, we shall feel under the greatest obligation to you for it.”
The priest was a good-natured soul, and answered, that he most willingly
would do it, and in speaking with him he said he should soon discover
the state of the case, and by talking seriously to him, would get this
maggot out of his head. He went home with them, and when arrived where
Grasso was, he entered the room when he was busy with his own thoughts.
Grasso no sooner saw him, than he rose; the Priest said, “Good night,
Matteo.”
“Good night to you,” said Grasso, “what brings you this way?”
“I am come to spend a little time with thee,” said the Priest, and
having taken a seat, “sit by me,” said he, “and I will tell thee my
mind.” Grasso obeyed him, and sat down. “Now,” said the Priest, “I’ll
tell you the reason, Matteo, why I came; it is first, because I have
heard, and much it grieves me, that yesterday thou wert taken to prison
on account of some debt: and, in the second place, that thou hast felt,
and still feelest the greatest distress, which has almost driven thee
mad; and among other nonsense of that kind, that thou wilt not believe
but that thou art no longer Matteo, and insistest that thou art another
person, called Grasso, the carver. Thou art much to blame to let such
a trifling thing so distress you as almost to make you mad, and suffer
yourself to be laughed at to your great discredit. In truth, Matteo, I
will not have you do so, and I do desire that, for the love of me, thou
wouldst promise me to give up this folly, and attend to thy business as
an honourable man, like other people, by which means thou wilt delight
thy brothers; for, if this circumstance were to be known, it would be
said thou hadst lost thy intellect, and although thou mightest perfectly
recover, yet it would ever be thought that thou wert still subject to
fits of insanity, and thou wouldst be a lost man; therefore, to end the
matter, determine now to be a man, not a simpleton, and give over all
this nonsense; whether thou be Grasso or not Grasso, do as I advise you,
for I counsel thee for thy good.” Thus saying, he smiled kindly at him.
Grasso having heard how benevolently he admonished him, not doubting
but he must be Matteo, answered him directly, “that he certainly was
disposed to do whatever he could to obey him,” and he promised that,
hereafter, he would exert himself, and endeavour not to think of his
being any thing but Matteo, as he was; but that he wanted him to do him
a very great favour, if it was possible, and this was, that he wished
very much indeed to speak to that said Grasso, so as to convince himself
of his own identity: to which the Priest answered, “this is all nonsense
and much against your interest; I see thou hast still this whimsy in thy
head.”
“What the devil have you to do with the fellow? what do you want with
that Grasso, that you should eternally be talking of him? the more you
make this thing public the worse it will be for you,” and so much did he
talk to him, that he at last prevailed on him to give up the idea of
seeing him, and having left him, he told the brothers what he had said
and done, and what Matteo had promised: thus taking leave of them, he
made the best of his way to the church.
While the Priest had remained with Matteo, Philip of Brunelesco had come
secretly into another room. Much to his amusement, he heard the whole
account from one of the brothers, of his going out of the prison--their
conversation in their way home, and the rest: after which, putting a
small powder in a cup, he said to one of the brothers, “contrive, while
you are at supper, to give him this in a glass of wine, or any thing
else you can, so that he may not notice it. This is an opiate, which
will set him so fast asleep, that though you mumbled and tumbled him
ever-so-much, he would not wake for several hours; and I will be with
you by five o’clock, and we will settle the rest of the business.” The
brothers having returned to the room, they sat down with him to supper,
and it was already three o’clock. Thus as they supped, they gave him the
potion unnoticed by him; the which so perfectly stupified him, that
he was unable to keep his eyes open. The brothers then said to him,
“Matteo, thou seemest to be dead asleep, thou must have had little sleep
last night,” to which Grasso replied, “I protest, in the whole course
of my life, I never felt so sleepy; I feel as if I had not slept for a
whole month, therefore I think I had better go to bed,” and he began to
undress, but scarcely was he able to pull off his shoes and stockings,
and get into bed. No sooner did he get into bed but he fell fast asleep,
and snored like a pig.
At the hour previously fixed upon, Philipo di Brunelesco entered the
room where he was, with six of his companions, and seeing him fast
asleep, they took him and placed him on a sort of litter, with all his
clothes, and carried him home. No one being at home, as it happened that
his mother had not returned, they took him to his bed and placed him in
it; they put his clothes where he was in the habit of depositing them,
but instead of laying him at the head of the bed, they placed his head
at the foot. This being done, they took the key of the shop that was
hanging on a nail in the room, and they marched into the shop, where
they took the tools he used to work with, and displaced them all from
their usual places; turned the sharp edges of the planes topsy-turvy;
the hammers on their wrong side; the saws, and, in short, every corner
of his shop was ransacked and all things turned upside-down. The shop
looked as if the devil and all his imps had been at work. Having locked
the shop door, they carried the key to Grasso’s room, and shutting the
door after them, each of them went home to bed. Grasso, in a deep sleep
from the effect of the opium, slept on the whole night without ever
waking. In the morning, at the ringing of Santa Maria del Fiore, the
beverage having taken its due effect, Grasso awoke; it being day-light,
and recollecting the sound of the bell, he opened his eyes, and seeing
the light in the room, and looking about him, he became persuaded he was
in his own house, and recollecting all that had happened to him, he was
full of astonishment. Remembering where he had gone to bed the night
before, and where he then was, he began to think he had been dreaming,
or was at that instant in a dream: the one seemed to be the fact at one
time, and the next at another.
[Illustration: 072]
After a deep sigh from his heart, “Heaven help me,” said he. Getting out
of bed, and dressing himself, he took the key of the shop and went to
it, and on opening it he saw all the shop in the greatest disorder, at
which he stared with wonder. While he was setting them all to rights,
and in their proper places, the two brothers of Matteo came in, and
finding him so busy, seeming not to know him, one of them said, “Good
morning, friend.” Grasso turning round, looked at them, and recognizing
them, said, “Good morning, good morning, what are you come for?”
“I will tell you,” said one of them. “You know we have a brother called
Matteo, who within a few days, owing to his being imprisoned for debt,
has fallen into such a melancholy fit, that it has almost made him mad;
and among other foolish things, he has got it into his head that he is
not Matteo, but the master of this shop, who it seems is called Grasso.
Upon which, having talked to him on the subject, and likewise the priest
of the parish, who is a very good sort of man, he had promised the
latter he would give up this foolish whim. He went to bed last night
very cheerful while we were at supper, but, this morning, without our
hearing him, he went out, nor do we know where he is gone; for this
reason we came to see if perchance he had come here, or you could tell
us if you know any thing of him.” Grasso, while the man was speaking,
was bewildered; at last, turning towards them, he said, “I know not what
the devil you are talking about, or what all this nonsense means. Matteo
has not been here, and if he said he was I, he is a great rascal, and,
by my soul, if I meet with him I’ll have a brush at him: I’ll know
whether he be I, or I am he. What the deuce has happened within these
few days?” and, in a great rage, he took up his mantle, and pulling the
shop-door after him, he left them and went towards St. Maria del Fiore,
swearing all the way.
[Illustration: 077]
The brothers went about their business, and Grasso having entered
into the church, walked up and down raging and fuming like a lion, so
provoked and perplexed was he at all that had occurred. While he was in
this state of confusion, there arrived at Florence one who had been his
comrade, and who had been in Hungary, and had there made money by means
of the protection of Signor Filippo Scolari, formerly called Spano, one
of the citizens of Florence, who was then captain-general in the army
of Gismondo, son of Charles, King of Bohemia. This Spano received
and protected all those Florentines who had any particular talent,
mechanical or intellectual, being a very worthy man who loved his nation
very much, and did a great deal of good to his countrymen. This person
had as it happened, come to Florence for the purpose of engaging some
able and clever mechanics to complete some work he had taken in hand.
He had often talked to Grasso on this subject, begging of him to go with
him, and telling him that in a very few years he would become rich.. As
soon as Grasso saw him coming, he thought of going with him; therefore,
walking up to him, he said, “you have often advised me to go to Hungary
with you, and I always refused; now, in consequence of a certain event
that has befallen me, and on account of some little difference between
my mother and me, I am willing to go with you, if you are willing
I should, and I must be gone to-morrow morning, for if I delay my
departure will be prevented.” The young man said, that he was very glad
of this, but that he himself could not set off tomorrow on account of
some business, but that he might go forward and wait for him at Bologna,
and he would be there in a few days. Grasso was delighted, and having
settled matters, he returned to the shop, packed up some of his best
tools, his clothes, and a little money he had; this being done he
marched off to Borgo St. Lorenzo, and hired a pony as far as Bologna,
and the next morning, mounting his palfrey, rode towards that city, and
left a letter directed to his mother, in which he desired her to dispose
of the shop to her advantage, and said that he was going to Hungary.
Thus did Grasso depart from Florence, and, after waiting for his
companion at Bologna, they departed for Hungary. There they did so
well, that in a very few years they became quite rich considering their
station, through the protection of the above-mentioned Spano, who
made Grasso an engineer under the name of Manetto of Florence. Grasso
returned several times to Florence, and being asked by Philip of
Brunelesco to tell his story, he related this tale.
THE DEAD RIDER.