CHAPTER XXX.

"Your heart

is free, and quick with virtuous wrath to accuse

Appearances; and views a criminal

In innocence's shadow."

WERNER.

The Carmelite and Gelsomina found the keepers in waiting, and when they

quitted the cell its door was secured for the night. As they had no

further concerns with the jailors they passed on unquestioned. But when

the end of the corridor which led towards the apartments of the keeper

was reached, the monk stopped.

"Art thou equal to a great effort, in order that the innocent shall not

die?" he suddenly asked, though with a solemnity that denoted the

influence of a high and absorbing motive.

"Father!"

"I would know if thy love for the youth can sustain thee in a trying

scene; for without this effort he will surely perish!"

"I would die to save Jacopo a pang!"

"Deceive not thyself, daughter! Canst thou forget thy habits; overstep

the diffidence of thy years and condition; stand and speak fearlessly in

the presence of the great and dreaded?"

"Reverend Carmelite, I speak daily without fear, though not without awe,

to one more to be dreaded than any in Venice."

The monk looked in admiration at the gentle being, whose countenance

was glowing with the mild resolution of innocence and affection, and he

motioned for her to follow.

"We will go, then, before the proudest and the most fearful of earth,

should there be occasion," he resumed. "We will do our duty to both

parties, to the oppressor and the oppressed, that the sin of omission

lie not on our souls."

Father Anselmo, without further explanation, led the obedient girl into

that part of the palace which was known to be appropriated to the

private uses of the titular head of the Republic.

The jealousy of the Venetian patricians on the subject of their Doge is

matter of history. He was, by situation, a puppet in the hands of the

nobles, who only tolerated his existence, because the theory of their

government required a seeming agent in the imposing ceremonies that

formed part of their specious system, and in their intercourse with

other states. He dwelt in his palace like the queen-bee in the hive,

pampered and honored to the eye, but in truth devoted to the objects of

those who alone possess the power to injure, and perhaps we might add,

like the insect named, known for consuming more than a usual portion of

the fruits of the common industry.

Father Anselmo was indebted to his own decision, and to the confidence

of his manner, for reaching the private apartments of a prince, thus

secluded and watched. He was permitted to pass by various sentinels, who

imagined, from his holy calling and calm step, that he was some friar

employed in his usual and privileged office. By this easy, quiet method

did the Carmelite and his companion penetrate to the very ante-chamber

of the sovereign, a spot that thousands had been defeated in attempting

to reach, by means more elaborate.

There were merely two or three drowsy inferior officers of the household

in waiting. One arose quickly at the unexpected appearance of these

unknown visitors, expressing, by the surprise and the confusion of his

eye, the wonder into which he was thrown by so unlooked-for guests.

"His Highness waits for us, I fear?" simply observed Father Anselmo, who

had known how to quiet his concern, in a look of passive courtesy.

"Santa Maria! holy father, you should know best, but----"

"We will not lose more time in idle words, son, when there has already

been this delay--show us to the closet of his Highness."

"It is forbidden to usher any, unannounced, into the presence----"

"Thou seest this is not an ordinary visit. Go, inform the Doge that the

Carmelite he expects, and the youthful maiden, in whom his princely

bosom feels so parental an interest, await his pleasure."

"His Highness has then commanded----"

"Tell him, moreover, that time presses; for the hour is near when

innocence is condemned to suffer."

The usher was deceived by the gravity and assurance of the monk. He

hesitated, and then throwing open a door, he showed the visitors into an

inner room, where he requested them to await his return. After this, he

went on the desired commission to the closet of his master.

It has already been shown that the reigning Doge, if such a title can be

used of a prince who was merely a tool of the aristocracy, was a man

advanced in years. He had thrown aside the cares of the day, and, in the

retirement of his privacy, was endeavoring to indulge those human

sympathies that had so little play in the ordinary duties of his

factitious condition, by holding intercourse with the mind of one of the

classics of his country. His state was laid aside for lighter ease and

personal freedom. The monk could not have chosen a happier moment for

his object, since the man was undefended by the usual appliances of his

rank, and he was softened by communion with one who had known how to

mould and temper the feelings of his readers at will. So entire was the

abstraction of the Doge, at the moment, that the usher entered unheeded,

and had stood in respectful attention to his sovereign's pleasure, near

a minute before he was seen.

"What would'st thou, Marco?" demanded the prince, when his eye rose from

the page.

"Signore," returned the officer, using the familiar manner in which

those nearest to the persons of princes are permitted to indulge--"here

are the reverend Carmelite, and the young girl, in waiting."

"How sayest thou? a Carmelite, and a girl!"

"Signore, the same. Those whom your Highness expects."

"What bold pretence is this!"

"Signore, I do but repeat the words of the monk. 'Tell his Highness,'

said the father, 'that the Carmelite he wishes to see, and the young

girl in whose happiness his princely bosom feels so parental an

interest, await his pleasure.'"

There passed a glow, in which indignation was brighter than shame, over

the wasted cheek of the old prince, and his eye kindled.

"And this to me--even in my palace!"

"Pardon, Signore. This is no shameless priest, like so many that

disgrace the tonsure. Both monk and girl have innocent and harmless

looks, and I do suspect your Highness may have forgotten."

The bright spots disappeared from the prince's cheeks and his eye

regained its paternal expression. But age, and experience in his

delicate duties, had taught the Doge of Venice caution. He well knew

that memory had not failed him, and he at once saw that a hidden meaning

lay concealed beneath an application so unusual. There might be a device

of his enemies, who were numerous and active, or, in truth, there might

be some justifiable motive to warrant the applicant in resorting to a

measure so hardy.

"Did the Carmelite say more, good Marco?" he asked, after deep

reflection.

"Signore, he said there was great urgency, as the hour was near when the

innocent might suffer. I doubt not that he comes with a petition in

behalf of some young indiscreet, for there are said to be several young

nobles arrested for their follies in the carnival. The female may be a

sister disguised."

"Bid one of thy companions come hither; and when I touch my bell, do

thou usher these visitors to my presence."

The attendant withdrew, taking care to pass into the antechamber by

doors that rendered it unnecessary to show himself too soon to those who

expected his return. The second usher quickly made his appearance, and

was immediately dispatched in quest of one of the Three, who was

occupied with important papers in an adjoining closet. The senator was

not slow to obey the summons, for he appeared there as a friend of the

prince, having been admitted publicly, and with the customary honors.

"Here are visitors of an unusual character, Signore," said the Doge,

rising to receive him whom he had summoned in precaution to himself,

"and I would have a witness of their requests."

"Your Highness does well to make us of the Senate share your labors;

though if any mistaken opinion of the necessity has led you to conceive

it important to call a councillor each time a guest enters the

palace----"

"It is well, Signore," mildly interrupted the prince, touching the bell.

"I hope my importunity has not deranged you. But here come those I

expect."

Father Anselmo and Gelsomina entered the closet together. The first

glance convinced the Doge that he received strangers. He exchanged looks

with the member of the secret council, and each saw in the other's eye

that the surprise was mutual.

When fairly in the presence, the Carmelite threw back his cowl, entirely

exposing the whole of his ascetic features; while Gelsomina, awed by the

rank of him who received them, shrank abashed, partly concealed by his

robes.

"What means this visit?" demanded the prince, whose finger pointed to

the shrinking form of the girl, while his eye rested steadily on that of

the monk, "and that unusual companion? Neither the hour, nor the mode,

is customary."

Father Anselmo stood before the Venetian sovereign for the first time.

Accustomed, like all of that region, and more especially in that age, to

calculate his chances of success warily, before venturing to disburden

his mind, the monk fastened a penetrating look on his interrogator.

"Illustrious prince," he said, "we come petitioners for justice. They

who are thus commissioned had need be bold, lest they do their own

character, and their righteous office, discredit."

"Justice is the glory of St. Mark, and the happiness of his subjects.

Thy course, father, is not according to established rules and wholesome

restraints, but it may have its apology--name thy errand."

"There is one in the cells, condemned of the public tribunals, and he

must die with the return of day, unless your princely authority

interfere to save him."

"One condemned of the tribunals may merit his fate."

"I am the ghostly adviser of the unhappy youth, and in the execution of

my sacred office I have learned that he is innocent."

"Didst thou say, condemned of the common judges-father?"

"Sentenced to die, highness, by a decree of the criminal tribunals."

The prince appeared relieved. So long as the affair had been public,

there was at least reason to believe he might indulge his love of the

species, by listening further, without offence to the tortuous policy of

the state. Glancing his eye at the motionless inquisitor, as if to seek

approbation, he advanced a step nearer to the Carmelite, with increasing

interest in the application.

"By what authority, reverend priest, dost thou impeach the decision of

the judges?" he demanded.

"Signore, as I have just said, in virtue of knowledge gained in the

exercise of my holy office. He has laid bare his soul to me, as one

whose feet were in the grave; and, though offending, like all born of

woman, towards his God, he is guiltless as respects the state."

"Thinkest thou, father, that the law would ever reach its victim, were

we to listen only to self-accusations? I am old, monk, and have long

worn that troublesome cap," pointing to the horned bonnet, which lay

near his hand, the symbol of his state, "and in my day, I do not recall

the criminal that has not fancied himself the victim of untoward

circumstances."

"That men apply this treacherous solace to their consciences, one of my

vocation has not to learn. Our chief task is to show the delusion of

those, who, while condemning their own sins by words of confession and

self-abasement, make a merit of humility; but, Doge of Venice, there is

still a virtue in the sacred rite I have this evening been required to

perform, which can overcome the mounting of the most exalted spirit.

Many attempt to deceive themselves at the confessional, while, by the

power of God, few succeed."

"Praised be the blessed mother and the incarnate son, that it is so!"

returned the prince, struck by the mild faith of the monk, and crossing

himself reverently. "Father, thou hast forgotten to name the condemned?"

"It is a certain Jacopo Frontoni;--a reputed bravo," The start, the

changing color, and the glance of the prince of Venice, were full of

natural surprise.

"Callest thou the bloodiest stiletto that ever disgraced the city, the

weapon of a reputed bravo? The arts of the monster have prevailed over

thy experience, monk!--the true confession of such a wretch would be but

a history of bloody and revolting crimes."

"I entered his cell with this opinion, but I left it convinced that the

public sentiment has done him wrong. If your Highness will deign hear

his tale, you will think him a fit subject for your pity, rather than

for punishment."

"Of all the criminals of my reign, this is the last in whose favor I

could have imagined there was aught to be said!--Speak freely,

Carmelite; for curiosity is as strong as wonder."

So truly did the Doge give utterance to his feelings, that he

momentarily forgot the presence of the inquisitor, whose countenance

might have shown him that the subject was getting to be grave.

The monk ejaculated a thanksgiving, for it was not always easy, in that

city of mystery, to bring truth to the ears of the great. When men live

under a system of duplicity, more or less of the quality gets interwoven

with the habits of the most ingenuous, although they may remain

themselves unconscious of the taint. Thus Father Anselmo, as he

proceeded with the desired explanation, touched more tenderly on the

practices of the state, and used more of reserve in alluding to those

usages and opinions, which one of his holy calling and honest nature,

under other circumstances, would have fearlessly condemned.

"It may not be known to one of your high condition, sovereign prince,"

resumed the Carmelite, "that an humble but laborious mechanic of this

city, a certain Francesco Frontoni, was long since condemned for frauds

against the Republic's revenue. This is a crime St. Mark never fails to

visit with his heavy displeasure, for when men place the goods of the

world before all other considerations, they mistake the objects which

have brought them together in social union."

"Father, thou wert speaking of a certain Francesco Frontoni?"

"Highness, such was his name. The unhappy man had taken into his

confidence and friendship, one who, pretending to his daughter's love,

might appear to be the master of his secrets. When this false suitor

stood on the verge of detection, for offences against the customs, he

laid a snare of deception, which, while he was permitted to escape, drew

the anger of the state on his too confiding friend. Francesco was

condemned to the cells, until he might reveal facts which never had an

existence."

"This is a hard fate, reverend friar, could it be but proved!"

"'Tis the evil of secresy and intrigue, great Doge, in managing the

common interests!--"

"Hast thou more of this Francesco, monk?"

"His history is short, Signore; for at the age when most men are active

in looking to their welfare, he was pining in a prison."

"I remember to have heard of some such accusation; but it occurred in

the reign of the last Doge, did it not, father?"

"And he has endured to near the close of the reign of this, Highness!"

"How? The Senate, when apprised of the error of its judgment, was not

slow to repair the wrong!"

The monk regarded the prince earnestly, as if he would make certain

whether the surprise he witnessed was not a piece of consummate acting.

He felt convinced that the affair was one of that class of acts, which,

however oppressive, unjust, and destructive of personal happiness, had

not sufficient importance to come before them, who govern under systems

which care more for their own preservation than for the good of the

ruled. "Signor Doge," he said, "the state is discreet in matters that

touch its own reputation. There are reasons that I shall not presume to

examine, why the cell of poor Francesco was kept closed, long after the

death and confession of his accuser left his innocence beyond dispute."

The prince mused, and then he bethought him to consult the countenance

of his companion. The marble of the pilaster, against which he leaned,

was not more cold and unmoved than the face of the inquisitor. The man

had learned to smother every natural impulse in the assumed and

factitious duties of his office.

"And what has this case of Francesco to do with the execution of the

Bravo?" demanded the Doge, after a pause, in which he had in vain

struggled to assume the indifference of his counsellor.

"That I shall leave this prison-keeper's daughter to explain. Stand

forth, child, and relate what you know, remembering, if you speak before

the Prince of Venice, that you also speak before the King of Heaven!"

Gelsomina trembled, for one of her habits, however supported by her

motives, could not overcome a nature so retiring without a struggle. But

faithful to her promise, and sustained by her affection for the

condemned, she advanced a step, and stood no longer concealed by the

robes of the Carmelite.

"Thou art the daughter of the prison-keeper?" asked the prince mildly,

though surprise was strongly painted in his eye.

"Highness, we are poor, and we are unfortunate: we serve the state for

bread."

"Ye serve a noble master, child. Dost thou know aught of this Bravo?"

"Dread sovereign, they that call him thus know not his heart! One more

true to his friends, more faithful to his word, or more suppliant with

the saints, than Jacopo Frontoni, is not in Venice!"

"This is a character which art might appropriate, even to a bravo. But

we waste the moments. What have these Frontoni in common?"

"Highness, they are father and son. When Jacopo came to be of an age to

understand the misfortunes of his family, he wearied the senators with

applications in his father's behalf, until they commanded the door of

the cell to be secretly opened to a child so pious. I well know, great

prince, that they who rule cannot have all-seeing eyes, else could this

wrong never have happened. But Francesco wasted years in cells, chill

and damp in winter, and scorching in summer, before the falsehood of the

accusation was known. Then, as some relief to sufferings so little

merited, Jacopo was admitted."

"With what object, girl?"

"Highness, was it not in pity? They promised too, that in good time the

service of the son should buy the father's liberty. The patricians were

slow to be convinced, and they made terms with poor Jacopo, who agreed

to undergo a hard service that his father might breathe free air before

he died."

"Thou dealest in enigmas."

"I am little used, great Doge, to speak in such a presence, or on such

subjects. But this I know, that for three weary years hath Jacopo been

admitted to his father's cell, and that those up above consented to the

visits, else would my father have denied them. I was his companion in

the holy act, and will call the blessed Maria and the saints------"

"Girl, didst thou know him for a bravo?"

"Oh! Highness, no. To me he seemed a dutiful child, fearing God and

honoring his parent. I hope never to feel another pang, like that which

chilled my heart when they said, he I had known as the kind Carlo was

hunted in Venice as the abhorred Jacopo! But it is passed, the Mother of

God be praised!"

"Thou art betrothed to this condemned man?"

The color did not deepen on the cheek of Gelsomina at this abrupt

question, for the tie between her and Jacopo had become too sacred for

the ordinary weaknesses of her sex.

"Highness, yes; we were to be married, should it have pleased God, and

those great senators who have so much influence over the happiness of

the poor, to permit it."

"And thou art still willing, knowing the man, to pledge thy vows to one

like Jacopo?"

"It is because I do know him to be as he is, that I most reverence him,

great Doge. He has sold his time and his good name to the state, in

order to save his imprisoned father, and in that I see nothing to

frighten one he loves."

"This affair needs explanation, Carmelite. The girl has a heated fancy,

and she renders that obscure she should explain."

"Illustrious prince, she would say that the Republic was content to

grant the son the indulgence of visiting the captive, with some

encouragement of his release, on condition that the youth might serve

the police by bearing a bravo's reputation."

"And for this incredible tale, father, you have the word of a condemned,

criminal!"

"With the near view of death before his eyes. There are means of

rendering truth evident, familiar to those who are often near the dying

penitents, that are unknown to those of the world. In any case, Signore,

the matter is worthy of investigation."

"In that thou art right. Is the hour named for the execution?"

"With the morning light, prince."

"And the father?"

"Is dead."

"A prisoner, Carmelite!"

"A prisoner, Prince of Venice."

There was a pause.

"Hast thou heard of the death of one named Antonio?"

"Signore, yes. By the sacred nature of my holy office, do I affirm that

of this crime is Jacopo innocent! I shrived the fisherman."

The Doge turned away, for the truth began to dawn upon him, and the

flush which glowed on his aged cheek contained a confession that might

not be observed by every eye. He sought the glance of his companion, but

his own expression of human feeling was met by the disciplined features

of the other, as light is coldly repelled from polished stone.

"Highness!" added a tremulous voice.

"What would'st thou, child?"

"There is a God for the Republic, as well as for the gondolier! Your

Highness will turn this great crime from Venice?"

"Thou art of plain speech, girl!"

"The danger of Carlo has made me bold. You are much beloved by the

people, and none speak of you, that they do not speak of your goodness,

and of your desire to serve the poor. You are the root of a rich and

happy family, and you will not--nay, you cannot if you would, think it a

crime for a son to devote all to a father. You are our father, and we

have a right to come to you, even for mercy--but, Highness, I ask only

for justice."

"Justice is the motto of Venice."

"They who live in the high favor of Providence do not always know what

the unhappy undergo. It has pleased God to afflict my own poor mother,

who has griefs that, but for her patience and Christian faith, would

have been hard to bear. The little care I had it in my power to show,

first caught Jacopo's eye, for his heart was then full of the duty of

the child. Would your Highness consent to see poor Carlo, or to command

him to be brought hither, his simple tale would give the lie to every

foul slander they have dared to say against him."

"It is unnecessary--it is unnecessary. Thy faith in his innocence, girl,

is more eloquent than any words of his can prove."

A gleam of joy irradiated the face of Gelsomina, who turned eagerly to

the listening monk, as she continued--

"His Highness listens," she said, "and we shall prevail! Father, they

menace in Venice, and alarm the timid, but they will never do the deed

we feared. Is not the God of Jacopo my God, and your God?--the God of

the senate and of the Doge?--of the Council and of the Republic? I would

the secret members of the Three could have seen poor Jacopo, as I have

seen him, coming from his toil, weary with labor and heart-broken with

delay, enter the winter or the summer cell--chilling or scorching as the

season might be--struggling to be cheerful, that the falsely accused

might not feel a greater weight of misery. Oh! venerable and kind

prince, you little know the burden that the feeble are often made to

carry, for to you life has been sunshine; but there are millions who are

condemned to do that they loathe, that they may not do that they dread."

"Child, thou tell'st me nothing new."

"Except in convincing you, Highness, that Jacopo is not the monster they

would have him. I do not know the secret reasons of the councils for

wishing the youth to lend himself to a deception that had nigh proved so

fatal; but all is explained, we have naught now to fear. Come, father;

we will leave the good and just Doge to go to rest, as suits his years,

and we will return to gladden the heart of Jacopo with our success, and

thank the blessed Maria for her favor."

"Stay!" exclaimed the half-stifled old man. "Is this true that thou

tellest me, girl:--Father, can it be so!"

"Signore, I have said all that truth and my conscience have prompted."

The prince seemed bewildered, turning his look from the motionless girl

to the equally immovable member of the Three.

"Come hither, child," he said, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Come

hither, that I may bless thee." Gelsomina sprang forward, and knelt at

the feet of her sovereign. Father Anselmo never uttered a clearer or

more fervent benediction than that which fell from the lips of the

Prince of Venice. He raised the daughter of the prison-keeper, and

motioned for both his visitors to withdraw. Gelsomina willingly

complied, for her heart was already in the cell of Jacopo, in the

eagerness to communicate her success; but the Carmelite lingered to cast

a look behind, like one better acquainted with the effects of worldly

policy, when connected with the interests of those who pervert

governments to the advantage of the privileged. As he passed through the

door, however, he felt his hopes revive, for he saw the aged prince,

unable any longer to suppress his feelings, hastening towards his still

silent companion, with both hands extended, eyes moistening with tears,

and a look that betrayed the emotions of one anxious to find relief in

human sympathies.

The Bravo: A Tale · 第 30 / 31 章