But let us return to Zastrozzi. He had walked with Ugo on the heath,
and had returned late. He was surprised to see no light in the cottage.
He advanced to the door, he rapped violently; no one answered. “Very
strange!” exclaimed Zastrozzi, as he burst open the door with his foot.
He entered the cottage--no one was there. He searched it, and at last
saw Bernardo lying, seemingly lifeless, at the foot of the staircase.
Zastrozzi advanced to him, and lifted him from the ground; he had been
but in a trance, and immediately recovered.
As soon as his astonishment was dissipated, he told Zastrozzi what had
happened.
“What!” exclaimed Zastrozzi, interrupting him, “Verezzi escaped! Hell
and furies! Villain, you deserve instant death; but thy life is at
present necessary to me. Arise, go instantly to Rosenheim, and bring
three of my horses from the inn there--make haste!--begone!”
Bernardo trembling arose, and obeying Zastrozzi’s commands, crossed the
heath quickly towards Rosenheim, a village about half a league distant
on the north.
Whilst he was gone, Zastrozzi, agitated by contending passions, knew
scarcely what to do. With hurried strides he paced the cottage. He
sometimes spoke lowly to himself. The feelings of his soul flashed from
his eyes--his frown was terrible.
“Would I had his heart reeking on my dagger, signor!” said Ugo. “Kill
him when you catch him, which you soon will, I am sure.”
“Ugo,” said Zastrozzi, “you are my friend; you advise me well. But no!
he must not die. Ah! by what horrible fetters am I chained--fool that I
was--Ugo! he shall die--die by the most hellish torments. I give myself
up to fate;--I will taste revenge, for revenge is sweeter than life;
and even were I to die with him, and, as the punishment of my crime, be
instantly plunged into eternal torments, I should taste superior joy
in recollecting the sweet moment of his destruction. Oh! would that
destruction could be eternal!”
The clattering of hoofs was heard, and Zastrozzi was now interrupted by
the arrival of Bernardo--they instantly mounted, and the high-spirited
steeds bore them swiftly across the heath.
Rapidly, for some time, were Zastrozzi and his companions borne across
the plain. They took the same road as Verezzi had. They passed the
pines where he reposed. They hurried on.
The fainting horses were scarce able to bear their guilty burthens. No
one had spoken since they had left the clustered pines.
Bernardo’s horse, overcome by excessive fatigue, sank on the ground;
that of Zastrozzi scarce appeared in better condition. They stopped.
“What!” exclaimed Zastrozzi, “must we give up the search? Ah! I am
afraid we must; our horses can proceed no further--curse on the horses!
But let us proceed on foot; Verezzi shall not escape me; nothing shall
now retard the completion of my just revenge.”
As he thus spoke, Zastrozzi’s eye gleamed with impatient revenge; and
with rapid steps he advanced towards the south of the heath.
Daylight at length appeared; still were the villains’ efforts to find
Verezzi insufficient. Hunger, thirst, and fatigue conspired to make
them relinquish the pursuit. They lay at intervals upon the stony soil.
“This is but an uncomfortable couch, signor,” muttered Ugo.
Zastrozzi, whose whole thoughts were centred in revenge, heeded him
not, but, nerved anew by impatient vengeance, he started from the
bosom of the earth, and muttering curses upon the innocent object of
his hatred, proceeded onwards. The day passed as had the morning and
preceding night. Their hunger was scantily allayed by the wild berries
which grew amid the heathy shrubs; and their thirst but increased by
the brackish pools of water which alone they met with. They perceived
a wood at some distance. “That is a likely place for Verezzi to have
retired to, for the day is hot, and he must want repose as well as
ourselves,” said Bernardo. “True,” replied Zastrozzi, as he advanced
towards it. They quickly arrived at its borders: it was not a wood, but
an immense forest, which stretched southward as far as Schaffhausen.
They advanced into it.
The tall trees rising above their heads warded off the meridian sun;
the mossy banks beneath invited repose; but Zastrozzi, little recking a
scene so fair, hastily scrutinized every recess which might afford an
asylum to Verezzi.
Useless were all his researches--fruitless his endeavours: still,
however, though, faint with hunger and weary with exertion, he nearly
sank upon the turf, his mind was superior to corporeal toil; for
_that_, nerved by revenge, was indefatigable.
Ugo and Bernardo, overcome by the extreme fatigue which they had
undergone, and strong as the assassins were, fell fainting on the earth.
The sun began to decline; at last it sank beneath the western mountain,
and the forest-tops were tinged by its departing ray. The shades of
night rapidly thickened.
Zastrozzi sat awhile upon the decayed trunk of a scathed oak.
The sky was serene; the blue ether was spangled with countless myriads
of stars: the tops of the lofty forest-trees waved mournfully in the
evening wind; and the moonbeam penetrating at intervals, as they
moved, through the matted branches, threw dubious shades upon the dark
underwood beneath.
Ugo and Bernardo, conquered by irresistible torpor, sank to rest upon
the dewy turf.
A scene so fair--a scene so congenial to those who can reflect upon
their past lives with pleasure, and anticipate the future with the
enthusiasm of innocence, ill accorded with the ferocious soul of
Zastrozzi, which at one time agitated by revenge, at another by
agonising remorse, or contending passions, could derive no pleasure
from the past--anticipate no happiness in futurity.
Zastrozzi sat for some time immersed in heart-rending contemplations;
but though conscience for awhile reflected his past life in images of
horror, again was his heart steeled by fiercest vengeance; and, aroused
by images of insatiate revenge, he hastily arose, and, waking Ugo and
Bernardo, pursued his course.
The night was calm and serene--not a cloud obscured the azure
brilliancy of the spangled concave above--not a wind ruffled the
tranquillity of the atmosphere below.
Zastrozzi, Ugo, and Bernardo advanced into the forest. They had
tasted no food, save the wild berries of the wood, for some time,
and were anxious to arrive at some cottage, where they might procure
refreshments. For some time the deep silence which reigned was
uninterrupted.
“What is that?” exclaimed Zastrozzi, as he beheld a large and
magnificent building, whose battlements rose above the lofty trees.
It was built in the Gothic style of architecture, and appeared to be
inhabited.
The building reared its pointed casements loftily to the sky; their
treillaged ornaments were silvered by the clear moonlight, to which the
dark shades of the arches beneath formed a striking contrast. A large
portico jutted out: they advanced towards it, and Zastrozzi attempted
to open the door.
An open window on one side of the casement arrested Zastrozzi’s
attention. “Let us enter that,” said he. They entered. It was a large
saloon, with many windows. Everything within was arranged with princely
magnificence. Four ancient and immense sofas in the apartment invited
repose.
Near one of the windows stood a table, with an escrutoire on it; a
paper lay on the ground near it.
Zastrozzi, as he passed, heedlessly took up the paper. He advanced
nearer to the window, thinking his senses had deceived him when he
read, “La Contessa di Laurentini”; but they had not done so, for La
Contessa di Laurentini still continued on the paper. He hastily opened
it; and the letter, though of no importance, convinced him that this
must have been the place to which Matilda said that she had removed.
Ugo and Bernardo lay sleeping on the sofas. Zastrozzi, leaving them
as they were, opened an opposite door--it led into a vaulted hall--a
large flight of stairs rose from the opposite side--he ascended them.
He advanced along a lengthened corridor--a female in white robes stood
at the other end--a lamp burnt near her on the balustrade. She was in
a reclining attitude, and had not observed his approach. Zastrozzi
recognized her for Matilda. He approached her, and beholding Zastrozzi
before her, she started back with surprise. For awhile she gazed on
him in silence, and at last exclaimed, “Zastrozzi! ah! are we revenged
on Julia? am I happy? Answer me quickly. Well by your silence do
I perceive that our plans have been put into execution. Excellent
Zastrozzi! accept my most fervent thanks, my eternal gratitude.”
“Matilda!” returned Zastrozzi, “would I could say that we were happy!
but, alas! it is but misery and disappointment that cause this my so
unexpected visit. I know nothing of the Marchesa de Strobazzo--less
of Verezzi. I fear that I must wait till age has unstrung my now so
fervent energies; and when time has damped your passion, perhaps you
may gain Verezzi’s love. Julia is returned to Italy--is even now in
Naples; and, secure in the immensity of her possessions, laughs at
our trifling vengeance. But it shall not be always thus,” continued
Zastrozzi, his eyes sparkling with inexpressible brilliancy; “I will
accomplish my purpose; and, Matilda, thine shall likewise be effected.
But, come, I have not tasted food for these two days.”
“Oh! supper is prepared below,” said Matilda. Seated at the
supper-table, the conversation, enlivened by wine, took an animated
turn. After some subjects, irrelevant to this history, being discussed,
Matilda said, “Ha! but I forgot to tell you, that I have done some
good. I have secured that diabolical Paulo, Julia’s servant, who was of
great service to her, and, by penetrating our schemes, might have even
discomfited our grand design. I have lodged him in the lowest cavern of
those dungeons which are under this building--will you go and see him?”
Zastrozzi answered in the affirmative, and seizing a lamp which burnt
in a recess of the apartment, followed Matilda.
The rays of the lamp but partially dissipated the darkness as they
advanced through the antiquated passages. They arrived at a door:
Matilda opened it, and they quickly crossed a grass-grown courtyard.
The grass which grew on the lofty battlements waved mournfully in
the rising blast, as Matilda and Zastrozzi entered a dark and narrow
casement. Cautiously they descended the slippery and precipitous steps.
The lamp, obscured by the vapours, burnt dimly as they advanced. They
arrived at the foot of the staircase. “Zastrozzi!” exclaimed Matilda.
Zastrozzi turned quickly, and, perceiving a door, obeyed Matilda’s
directions.
On some straw, chained to the wall, lay Paulo.
“O pity! stranger, pity!” exclaimed the miserable Paulo.
No answer, save a smile of most expressive scorn, was given by
Zastrozzi. They again ascended the narrow staircase, and, passing the
courtyard, arrived at the supper-room.
“But,” said Zastrozzi, again taking his seat, “what use is that fellow
Paulo in the dungeon? Why do you keep him there?”
“Oh!” answered Matilda, “I know not; but if you wish----”
She paused, but her eye expressively filled up the sentence.
Zastrozzi poured out an overflowing goblet of wine. He summoned Ugo and
Bernardo--“Take that,” said Matilda, presenting them a key. One of the
villains took it, and in a few moments returned with the hapless Paulo.
“Paulo!” exclaimed Zastrozzi, loudly, “I have prevailed on La Contessa
to restore your freedom: here,” added he, “take this; I pledge to your
future happiness.”
Paulo bowed low--he drank the poisoned potion to the dregs, and,
overcome by sudden and irresistible faintness, fell at Zastrozzi’s
feet. Sudden convulsions shook his frame, his lips trembled, his eyes
rolled horribly, and, uttering an agonised and lengthened groan, he
expired.
“Ugo! Bernardo! take that body and bury it immediately,” cried
Zastrozzi. “There, Matilda, by such means must Julia die: you see, that
the poisons which I possess are quick in their effect.”
A pause ensued, during which the eyes of Zastrozzi and Matilda spoke
volumes to each guilty soul.
The silence was interrupted by Matilda. Not shocked at the dreadful
outrage which had been committed, she told Zastrozzi to come out into
the forest, for that she had something for his private ear.
“Matilda,” said Zastrozzi, as they advanced along the forest, “I must
not stay here, and waste moments in inactivity, which might be more
usefully employed. I must quit you to-morrow--I must destroy Julia.”
“Zastrozzi,” returned Matilda, “I am so far from wishing you to spend
your time here in ignoble listlessness, that I will myself join your
search. You shall to Italy--to Naples--watch Julia’s every movement,
attend her every step, and, in the guise of a friend, destroy her; but
beware, whilst you assume the softness of the dove, to forget not the
cunning of the serpent. On you I depend for destroying her; my own
exertions shall find Verezzi; I myself will gain his love--Julia must
die, and expiate the crime of daring to rival me, with her hated blood.”
Whilst thus they conversed, whilst they planned these horrid schemes of
destruction, the night wore away.
The moonbeam darting her oblique rays from under volumes of lowering
vapour, threatened an approaching storm. The lurid sky was tinged with
a yellowish lustre--the forest-tops rustled in the rising tempest--big
drops fell--a flash of lightning, and, instantly after, a peal of
bursting thunder, struck with sudden terror the bosom of Matilda. She,
however, immediately overcame it, and, regarding the battling element
with indifference, continued her discourse with Zastrozzi.
They wore out the night in many visionary plans for the future, and now
and then a gleam of remorse assailed Matilda’s heart. Heedless of the
storm, they had remained in the forest late. Flushed with wickedness,
they at last sought their respective couches, but sleep forsook their
pillow.
In all the luxuriance of extravagant fancy, Matilda portrayed the
symmetrical form, the expressive countenance, of Verezzi; whilst
Zastrozzi, who played a double part, anticipated, with ferocious
exultation, the torments which he she loved was eventually fated to
endure, and changed his plan, for a sublimer mode of vengeance was
opened to his view.
Matilda passed a night of restlessness and agitation; her mind was
harassed by contending passions, and her whole soul wound up to deeds
of horror and wickedness. Zastrozzi’s countenance, as she met him
in the breakfast-parlour, wore a settled expression of determined
revenge--“I almost shudder,” exclaimed Matilda, “at the sea of
wickedness on which I am about to embark! But still, Verezzi--ah! for
him would I even lose my hopes of eternal happiness. In the sweet idea
of calling him mine, no scrupulous delicacy, no mistaken superstitious
fear, shall prevent me from deserving him by daring acts--No! I am
resolved,” continued Matilda, as, recollecting his graceful form, her
soul was assailed by tenfold love.
“And I am likewise resolved,” said Zastrozzi; “I am resolved on
revenge--my revenge shall be gratified. Julia shall die, and
Verezzi----”
Zastrozzi paused; his eye gleamed with a peculiar expression, and
Matilda thought he meant more than he had said--she raised her
eyes--they encountered his.
The guilt-bronzed cheek of Zastrozzi was tinged with a momentary blush,
but it quickly passed away, and his countenance recovered its wonted
firm and determined expression.
“Zastrozzi!” exclaimed Matilda. “Should you be false--should you seek
to deceive me----But no; it is impossible. Pardon, my friend--I meant
not what I said--my thoughts are crazed----”
“’Tis well,” said Zastrozzi, haughtily.
“But you forgive my momentary, unmeaning doubt?” said Matilda, and
fixed her unmeaning eyes on his countenance.
“It is not for us to dwell on vain, unmeaning expressions, which the
soul dictates not,” returned Zastrozzi; “and I sue for pardon from you,
for having, by ambiguous expressions, caused the least agitation; but,
believe me, Matilda, we will not forsake each other; your cause is
mine; distrust between us is foolish. But, farewell for the present; I
must order Bernardo to go to Passau to purchase horses.”
The day passed on; each waited with impatience for the arrival of
Bernardo. “Farewell, Matilda,” exclaimed Zastrozzi, as he mounted the
horses which Bernardo brought; and, taking the route of Italy, galloped
off.