I OBEYED the Cardinal, and returned to Paris, where I made excellent
cases for my three silver vases, After the lapse of twenty days, I began
my preparations, and packed the three vases upon a mule. This animal had
been lent me for the journey to Lyons by the Bishop of Pavia, who was
now once more installed in my castle.
Then I departed in my evil hour, together with Signor Ippolito Gonzaga,
at that time in the pay of the King, and also in the service of Count
Galeotto della Mirandola. Some other gentlemen of the said count went
with us, as well as Lionardo Tedaldi, our fellow-citizen of Florence.
I made Ascanio and Pagolo guardians of my castle and all my property,
including two little vases which were only just begun; those I left
behind in order that the two young men might not be idle. I had lived
very handsomely in Paris, and therefore there was a large amount of
costly household furniture: the whole value of these effects exceeded
1500 crowns. I bade Ascanio remember what great benefits I had bestowed
upon him, and that up to the present he had been a mere thoughtless lad;
the time was now come for him to show the prudence of a man; therefore I
thought fit to leave him in the custody of all my goods, as also of my
honour. If he had the least thing to complain of from those brutes of
Frenchmen, he was to let me hear at once, because I would take post and
fly from any place in which I found myself, not only to discharge the
great obligations under which I lay to that good King, but also to
defend my honour. Ascanio replied with the tears of a thief and
hypocrite: “I have never known a father better than you are, and all
things which a good son is bound to perform for a good father will I
ever do for you.” So then I took my departure, attended by a servant and
a little French lad.
It was just past noon, when some of the King’s treasurers, by no means
friends of mine, made a visit to my castle. The rascally fellows began
by saying that I had gone off with the King’s silver, and told Messer
Guido and the Bishop of Pavia to send at once off after his Majesty’s
vases; if not, they would themselves despatch a messenger to get them
back, and do me some great mischief. The Bishop and Messer Guido were
much more frightened than was necessary; so they sent that traitor
Ascanio by the post off on the spot. He made his appearance before me
about midnight. I had not been able to sleep, and kept revolving sad
thoughts to the following effect: “In whose hands have I left my
property, my castle? Oh, what a fate is this of mine, which forces me to
take this journey! May God grant only that the Cardinal is not of one
mind with Madame d’Etampes, who has nothing else so much at heart as to
make me lose the grace of that good King.”
L
WHILE I was thus dismally debating with myself, I heard Ascanio calling
me. On the instant I jumped out of bed, and asked if he brought good or
evil tidings. The knave answered: “They are good news I bring; but you
must only send back those three vases, for the rascally treasurers keep
shouting, ‘Stop thief!’ So the Bishop and Messer Guido say that you must
absolutely send them back. For the rest you need have no anxiety, but
may pursue your journey with a light heart.” I handed over the vases
immediately, two of them being my own property, together with the silver
and much else besides. [1] I had meant to take them to the Cardinal of
Ferrara’s abbey at Lyons; for though people accused me of wanting to
carry them into Italy, everybody knows quite well that it is impossible
to export money, gold, or silver from France without special license.
Consider, therefore, whether I could have crossed the frontier with
those three great vases, which, together with their cases, were a whole
mule’s burden! It is certainly true that, since these articles were of
great value and the highest beauty, I felt uneasiness in case the King
should die, and I had lately left him in a very bad state of health;
therefore I said to myself: “If such an accident should happen, having
these things in the keeping of the Cardinal, I shall not lose them.”
Well, to cut the story short, I sent back the mule with the vases, and
other things of importance; then, upon the following morning, I
travelled forward with the company I have already mentioned, nor could
I, through the whole journey, refrain from sighing and weeping.
Sometimes, however, I consoled myself with God by saying: “Lord God,
before whose eyes the truth lies open! Thou knowest that my object in
this journey is only to carry alms to six poor miserable virgins and
their mother, my own sister. They have indeed their father, but he is
very old, and gains nothing by his trade; I fear, therefore, lest they
might too easily take to a bad course of life. Since, then, I am
performing a true act of piety, I look to Thy Majesty for aid and
counsel.” This was all the recreation I enjoyed upon my forward journey.
We were one day distant from Lyons, and it was close upon the hour of
twenty-two, when the heavens began to thunder with sharp rattling claps,
although the sky was quite clear at the time. [2] I was riding a
cross-bow shot before my comrades. After the thunder the heavens made a
noise so great and horrible that I thought the last day had come; so I
reined in for a moment, while a shower of hail began to fall without a
drop of water. A first hail was somewhat larger than pellets from a
popgun, and when these struck me, they hurt considerably. Little by
little it increased in size, until the stones might be compared to balls
from a crossbow. My horse became restive with fright; so I wheeled
round, and returned at a gallop to where I found my comrades taking
refuge in a fir-wood. The hail now grew to the size of big lemons. I
began to sing a Miserere; and while I was devoutly uttering this psalm
to God, there fell a stone so huge that it smashed the thick branches of
the pine under which I had retired for safety. Another of the hailstones
hit my horse upon the head, and almost stunned him; one struck me also,
but not directly, else it would have killed me. In like manner, poor old
Lionardo Tedaldi, who like me was kneeling on the ground, received so
shrewd a blow that he fell grovelling upon all fours. When I saw that
the fir bough offered no protection, and that I ought to act as well as
to intone my Misereres, I began at once to wrap my mantle round my head.
At the same time I cried to Lionardo, who was shrieking for succour,
“Jesus! Jesus!” that Jesus would help him if he helped himself. I had
more trouble in looking after this man’s safety than my own. The storm
raged for some while, but at last it stopped; and we, who were pounded
black and blue, scrambled as well as we could upon our horses. Pursuing
the way to our lodging for the night, we showed our scratches and
bruises to each other; but about a mile farther on we came upon a scene
of devastation which surpassed what we had suffered, and defies
description. All the trees were stripped of their leaves and shattered;
the beasts in the field lay dead; many of the herdsmen had also been
killed; we observed large quantities of hailstones which could not have
been grasped with two hands. Feeling then that we had come well out of a
great peril, we acknowledged that our prayers to God and Misereres had
helped us more than we could have helped ourselves. Returning thanks to
God, therefore, we entered Lyons in the course of the next day, and
tarried there eight days. At the end of this time, being refreshed in
strength and spirits, we resumed our journey, and passed the mountains
without mishap. On the other side I bought a little pony, because the
baggage which I carried had somewhat overtired my horses.
Note 1. 'Con l’argento e ogni cosal.' These words refer perhaps to the
vases: 'the silver and everything pertaining to them.'
Note 2. 'E l’aria era bianchissima.' Perhaps this ought to be: 'and the
air blazed with lightnings.' Goethe takes it as I do above.