COUNT ANTONIO AND THE WIZARD'S DRUG.
The opinion of man is ever in flux save where it is founded on the rock
of true religion. What our fathers believed, we disbelieve; but often
our sons shall again receive it. In olden time men held much by magic
and black arts; now such are less esteemed; yet hereafter it may well be
that the world will find new incantations and fresh spells, the same
impulse flowing in a different channel and never utterly to be checked
or stemmed by the censures of the Church or the mocking of unbelievers.
As for truth--in truth who knows truth? For the light of Revelation
shines but in few places, and for the rest we are in natural darkness,
groping along unseen paths towards unknown ends. May God keep our
footsteps!
Now towards the close of the third year of his outlawry the heart of
Count Antonio of Monte Velluto had grown very sad. For it was above the
space of a year since he had heard news of the Lady Lucia, and hard upon
two since he had seen her face; so closely did Duke Valentine hold her
prisoner in Firmola. And as he walked to and fro among his men in their
hiding place in the hills, his face was sorrowful. Yet, coming where
Tommasino and Bena sat together, he stopped and listened to their talk
with a smile. For Bena cried to Tommasino, "By the saints, my lord, it
is even so! My father himself had a philtre from him thirty years ago;
and though, before, my mother had loathed to look on my father, yet now
here am I, nine-and-twenty years of age and a child born in holy
wedlock. Never tell me that it is foolishness, my lord!"
"Of whom do you speak, Bena?" asked Antonio.
"Of the Wizard of Baratesta, my lord. Aye, and he can do more than make
a love-potion. He can show you all that shall come to you in a mirror,
and make the girl you love rise before your eyes as though the shape
were good flesh and blood."
"All this is foolishness, Bena," said Count Antonio.
"Well, God knows that," said Bena. "But he did it for my father; and as
he is thirty years older, he will be wiser still by now;" and Bena
strode off to tend his horse, somewhat angry that Antonio paid so little
heed to his words.
"It is all foolishness, Tommasino," said Antonio.
"They say that of many a thing which gives a man pleasure," said
Tommasino.
"I have heard of this man before," continued the Count, "and marvellous
stories are told of him. Now I leave what shall come to me in the hands
of Heaven; for to know is not to alter, and knowledge without power is
but fretting of the heart; but----" And Antonio broke off.
"Ride then, if you can safely, and beg him to show you Lucia's face,"
said Tommasino. "For to that I think you are making."
"In truth I was, fool that I am," said Antonio.
"But be wary; for Baratesta is but ten miles from the city, and His
Highness sleeps with an open eye."
So Antonio, albeit that he was in part ashamed, learnt from Bena where
the wizard dwelt on the bridge that is outside the gate of
Baratesta--for the Syndic would not suffer such folk to live inside the
wall--and one evening he saddled his horse and rode alone to seek the
wizard, leaving Tommasino in charge of the band. And as he went, he
pondered, saying, "I am a fool, yet I would see her face;" and thus,
still dubbing himself fool, yet still persisting, he came to the bridge
of Baratesta; and the wizard, who was a very old man and tall and
marvellously lean, met him at the door of the house, crying, "I looked
for your coming, my lord." And he took Antonio's horse from him and
stood it in a stable beside the house, and led Antonio in, saying again,
"Your coming was known to me, my lord;" and he brought Antonio to a
chamber at the back of the house, having one window, past which the
river, being then in flood, rushed with noise and fury. There were many
strange things in the chamber, skulls and the forms of animals from
far-off countries, great jars, basins, and retorts, and in one corner a
mirror half-draped in a black cloth.
"You know who I am?" asked Antonio.
"That needs no art," answered the wizard, "and I pretend to none in it.
Your face, my lord, was known to me as to any other man, from seeing you
ride with the Duke before your banishment."
"And you knew that I rode hither to-night?"
"Aye," said the wizard. "For the stars told of the coming of some great
man; and I turned from my toil and watched for you."
"What toil?" asked Antonio. "See, here is money, and I have a quiet
tongue. What toil?"
The wizard pointed to a heap of broken and bent pieces of base metal. "I
was turning dross to gold," said he, in a fearful whisper.
"Can you do that?" asked Antonio, smiling.
"I can, my lord, though but slowly."
"And hate to love?" asked Count Antonio.
The wizard laughed harshly. "Let them that prize love, seek that," said
he. "It is not for me."
"I would it had been; then had my errand here been a better one. For I
am come to see the semblance of a maiden's face."
The wizard frowned as he said, "I had looked for a greater matter. For
you have a mighty enemy, my lord, and I have means of power for freeing
men of their enemies."
But Count Antonio, knowing that he spoke of some dark device of spell or
poison, answered, "Enough! enough! For I am a man of quick temper, and
it is not well to tell me of wicked things, lest I be tempted to
anticipate Heaven's punishment."
"I shall not die at your hands, my lord," said the wizard. "Come, will
you see what shall befall you?"
"Nay, I would but see my lady's face; a great yearning for that has come
over me, and, although I take shame in it, yet it has brought me here."
"You shall see it then; and if you see more, it is not by my will,"
said the wizard; and he quenched the lamp that burned on the table, and
flung a handful of some powder on the charcoal in the stove; and the
room was filled with a thick sweet-smelling vapour. And the wizard tore
the black cloth off the face of the mirror and bade Antonio look
steadily in the mirror. Antonio looked till the vapour that enveloped
all the room cleared off from the face of the mirror, and the wizard,
laying his hand on Antonio's shoulder, said, "Cry her name thrice." And
Antonio thrice cried "Lucia!" and again waited. Then something came on
the polished surface of the mirror; but the wizard muttered low and
angrily, for it was not the form of Lucia nor of any maiden; yet
presently he cried low, "Look, my lord, look!" and Antonio, looking, saw
a dim, and shadowy face in the mirror; and the wizard began to fling his
body to and fro, uttering strange whispered words; and the sweat stood
in beads on his forehead. "Now, now!" he cried; and Antonio, with
beating heart, fastened his gaze on the mirror. And as the story goes (I
vouch not for it) he saw, though very dimly, the face of Lucia; but
more he saw also; for beside the face was his own face, and there was a
rope about his neck, and the half-shaped arm of a gibbet seemed to hover
above him. And he shrank back for an instant.
"What more you see is not by my will," said the wizard.
"What shall come is only by God's will," said Antonio. "I have seen her
face. It is enough."
But the wizard clutched him by the arm, whispering in terror, "It is a
gibbet; and the rope is about your neck."
"Indeed, I seem to have worn it there these three years, and it is not
drawn tight yet; nor is it drawn in the mirror."
"You have a good courage," said the wizard with a grim smile. "I will
show you more;" and he flung another powder on the charcoal; and the
shapes passed from the mirror. But another came; and the wizard, with a
great cry, fell suddenly on his knees, exclaiming, "They mock me, they
mock me! They show what they will, not what I will. Ah, my lord, whose
is the face in the mirror?" And he seized Antonio again by the arm.
"It is your face," said Antonio; "and it is the face of a dead man, for
his jaw has dropped, and his features are drawn and wrung."
The wizard buried his face in his hands; and so they rested awhile till
the glass of the mirror cleared; and Antonio felt the body of the wizard
shaking against his knee.
"You are old," said Antonio, "and death must come to all. Maybe it is a
lie of the devil; but if not, face it as a man should."
But the wizard trembled still; and Antonio, casting a pitiful glance on
him, rose to depart. But on the instant as he moved, there came a sudden
loud knocking at the door of the house, and he stood still. The wizard
lifted his head to listen.
"Have you had warning of more visitors to-night?" asked Antonio.
"I know not what happens to-night," muttered the wizard. "My power is
gone to-night."
The knocking at the door came again, loud and impatient.
"They will beat the door down if you do not open," said Antonio. "I will
hide myself here behind the mirror; for I cannot pass them without being
seen; and if I am seen here, it is like enough that the mirror will be
proved right both for you and me."
So Antonio hid himself, crouching down behind the mirror; and the
wizard, having lit a small dim lamp, went on trembling feet to the door.
And presently he came back, followed by two men whose faces were hid in
their cloaks. One of them sat down, but the other stood and flung his
cloak back over his shoulders; and Antonio, observing him from behind
the mirror, saw that he was Lorenzo, the Duke's favourite.
Then Lorenzo spoke to the wizard saying, "Why did you not come sooner to
open the door?"
"There was one here with me," said the wizard, whose air had become
again composed.
"And is he gone? For we would be alone."
"He is not to be seen," answered the wizard. "Utterly alone here you
cannot be."
When he heard this, Lorenzo turned pale, for he did not love this
midnight errand to the wizard's chamber.
"But no man is here," said the wizard.
A low hoarse laugh came from the man who sat. "Tricks of the trade,
tricks of the trade!" said he; and Antonio started to hear his voice.
"Be sure that where a prince, a courtier, and a cheat are together, the
devil makes a fourth. But there is no need to turn pale over it,
Lorenzo."
When the wizard heard, he fell on his knees; for he knew that it was
Duke Valentine who spoke.
"Look you, fellow," pursued His Highness, "you owe me much thanks that
you are not hanged already; for by putting an end to you I should please
my clergy much and the Syndic of Baratesta not a little. But if you do
not obey me to-night, you shall be dead before morning."
"I shall not die unless it be written in the stars," said the wizard,
but his voice trembled.
"I know nothing of the stars," said the Duke, "but I know the mind of
the Duke of Firmola, and that is enough for my purpose." And he rose
and began to walk about the chamber, examining the strange objects that
were there; and thus he came in front of the mirror, and stood within
half a yard of Antonio. But Lorenzo stood where he was, and once he
crossed himself secretly and unobserved.
"What would my lord the Duke?" asked the wizard.
"There is a certain drug," said the Duke, turning round towards the
wizard, "which if a man drink--or a woman, Lorenzo--he can walk on his
legs and use his arms, and seem to be waking and in his right mind; yet
is his mind a nothing, for he knows not what he does, but does
everything that one, being with him, may command, and without seeming
reluctance; and again, when bidden, he will seem to lose all power of
movement, and to lack his senses. I saw the thing once when I sojourned
with the Lord of Florence; for a wizard there, having given the drug to
a certain man, put him through strange antics, and he performed them all
willingly."
"Aye, there is such a drug," said the wizard.
"Then give it me," said the Duke; "and I give you your life and fifty
pieces of gold. For I have great need of it."
Now when Antonio heard the Duke's words, he was seized with great fear;
for he surmised that it was against Lucia that the Duke meant to use
this drug; and noiselessly he loosened his sword in its sheath and bent
forward again to listen.
"And though my purpose is nothing to you, yet it is a benevolent
purpose. Is it not, Lorenzo?"
"It is your will, not mine, my lord," said Lorenzo in a troubled voice.
"Mine shall be the crime, then, and yours the reward," laughed the Duke.
"For I will give her the drug, and she shall wed you."
Then Antonio doubted no longer of what was afoot, nor that a plot was
laid whereby Lucia should be entrapped into marriage with Lorenzo, since
she could not be openly forced. And anger burned hotly in him. And he
swore that, sooner than suffer the thing to be done, he would kill the
Duke there with his own hand or himself be slain.
"And you alone know of this drug now, they say," the Duke went on. "For
the wizard of Florence is dead. Therefore give it me quickly."
But the wizard answered, "It will not serve, my lord, that I give you
the drug. With my own hand I must give it to the persons whom you would
thus affect, and I must tell them what they should do."
"More tricks!" said the Duke scornfully. "I know your ways. Give me the
drug." And he would not believe what the wizard said.
"It is even as I say," said the wizard. "And if Your Highness will carry
the drug yourself, I will not vouch its operation."
"Give it me; for I know the appearance of it," said the Duke.
Then the wizard, having again protested, went to a certain shelf and
from some hidden recess took a small phial, and came with it to the
Duke, saying, "Blame me not, if its operation fail."
The Duke examined the phial closely, and also smelt its smell. "It is
the same," said he. "It will do its work."
Then Count Antonio, who believed no more than the Duke what the wizard
had said concerning the need of his own presence for the working of the
drug, was very sorely put to it to stay quietly where he was; for if the
Duke rode away now with the phial, he might well find means to give it
to the Lady Lucia before any warning could be conveyed to her. And,
although the danger was great, yet his love for Lucia and his fear for
her overcame his prudence, and suddenly he sprang from behind the
mirror, drawing his sword and crying, "Give me that drug, my lord, or
your life must answer for it."
But fortune served him ill; for as the Duke and Lorenzo shrank back at
his sudden appearance, and he was about to spring on them, behold, his
foot caught in the folds of the black cloth that had been over the
mirror and now lay on the ground, and, falling forward, he struck his
head on the marble rim that ran round the charcoal stove, and, having
fallen with great force, lay there like a man dead. With loud cries of
triumph, the Duke and Lorenzo, having drawn their swords, ran upon him;
and the Duke planted his foot upon his neck, crying, "Heaven sends a
greater prize! At last, at last I have him! Bind his hands, Lorenzo."
Lorenzo bound Antonio's hands as he lay there, a log for stillness. The
Duke turned to the wizard and a smile bent his lips. "O faithful subject
and servant!" said he. "Well do you requite my mercy and forbearance, by
harbouring my bitterest enemies and suffering them to hear my secret
counsels. Had not Antonio chanced to trip, it is like enough he would
have slain Lorenzo and me also. What shall be your reward, O faithful
servant?"
When the Wizard of Baratesta beheld the look that was on Duke
Valentine's face, he suddenly cried aloud, "The mirror, the mirror!" and
sank in a heap on the floor, trembling in every limb; for he remembered
the aspect of his own face in the mirror and knew that the hour of his
death had come. And he feared mightily to die; therefore he besought the
Duke very piteously, and told him again that from his hand alone could
the drug receive its potency. And so earnest was he in this, that at
last he half-won upon the Duke, so that the Duke wavered. And as he
doubted, his eye fell on Antonio; and he perceived that Antonio was
recovering from his swoon.
"There is enough for two," said he, "in the phial; and we will put this
thing to the test. But if you speak or move or make any sign, forthwith
in that moment you shall die." Then the Duke poured half the contents of
the phial into a glass and came to Lorenzo and whispered to him, "If the
drug works on him, and the wizard is proved to lie, the wizard shall
die; but we will carry Antonio with us; and when I have mustered my
Guard, I will hang him in the square as I have sworn. But if the drug
does not work, then we must kill him here; for I fear to carry him
against his will; for he is a wonderful man, full of resource, and the
people also love him. Therefore, if the operation of the drug fail, run
him through with your sword when I give the signal."
Now Antonio was recovering from his swoon, and he overheard part of
what the Duke said, but not all. As to the death of the wizard he did
not hear, but he understood that the Duke was about to test the effect
of the drug on him, and that if it had no effect, he was to die;
whereas, if its operation proved sufficient, he should go alive; and he
saw here a chance for his life in case what the wizard had said should
prove true.
"Drink, Antonio," said the Duke softly. "No harm comes to you. Drink: it
is a refreshing draught."
And Antonio drank the draught, the wizard looking on with parted lips
and with great drops of sweat running from his forehead and thence down
his cheeks to his mouth, so that his lips were salt when he licked them.
And the Duke, having seen that Lorenzo had his sword ready for Antonio,
took his stand by the wizard with the dagger from his belt in his hand.
And he cried to Antonio, "Rise." And Antonio rose up. The wizard started
a step towards him; but the Duke showed his dagger, and said to Antonio,
"Will you go with me to Firmola, Antonio?"
And Antonio answered, "I will go."
"Do you love me, Antonio?" asked the Duke.
"Aye, my lord," answered Antonio.
"Yet you have done many wicked things against me."
"True, my lord," said Antonio.
"Is your mind then changed?"
"It is, my lord," said Antonio.
"Then leap two paces into the air," said the Duke; and Antonio
straightway obeyed.
"Go down on your knees and crawl;" and Antonio crawled, smiling secretly
to himself.
Then the Duke bade Lorenzo mount Antonio on his horse; and he commanded
the wizard to follow him; and they all went out where the horses were;
and the three mounted, and the wizard followed; and they came to the end
of the bridge. There the Duke turned sharp round and rode by the side of
the rushing river. And, suddenly pausing, he said to Antonio, "Commend
thy soul to God and leap in."
And Antonio commended his soul to God, and would have leapt in; but the
Duke caught him by the arm even as he set spurs to his horse, saying,
"Do not leap." And Antonio stayed his leap. Then the Duke turned his
face on the wizard, saying, "The potion works, wizard. Why did you lie?"
Then the wizard fell on his knees, cursing hell and heaven; for he could
not see how he should escape. For the potion worked. And Antonio
wondered what should fall out next. But Duke Valentine leapt down from
his horse and approached the wizard, while Lorenzo set his sword against
Antonio's breast. And the Duke, desirous to make a final trial, cried
again to Antonio, "Fling yourself from your horse." And Antonio, having
his arms bound, yet flung himself from his horse, and fell prone on the
ground, and lay there sorely bruised.
"It is enough," said the Duke. "You lied, wizard."
But the wizard cried, "I lied not, I lied not, my lord. Slay me not, my
lord! For I dare not die."
But the Duke caught him by the throat and drove his dagger into his
breast till the fingers that held the dagger were buried in the folds
of the wizard's doublet; and the Duke pulled out the dagger, and, when
the wizard fell, he pushed him with his foot over the brink, and the
body fell with a loud splash into the river below.
Thus died the Wizard of Baratesta, who was famed above all of his day
for the hidden knowledge that he had; yet he served not God, but Satan,
and his end was the end of a sinner. And, many days after, his body was
found a hundred miles from that place; and certain charitable men,
brethren of my own order, gave it burial. So that he died that same
night in which the mirror had shown him his face as the face of a dead
man; but whence came the vision I know not.
Then the Duke set Antonio again on his horse, and the three rode
together towards Firmola, and as they went, again and again the Duke
tested the operation of the drug, setting Antonio many strange,
ludicrous, and unseemly things to do and to say; and Antonio did and
said them all. But he wondered greatly that the drug had no power over
him, and that his brain was clear and his senses all his own; nor did
he then believe that the Duke had, in truth, slain the wizard for any
reason save that the wizard had harboured him, an outlaw, and suffered
him to hear the Duke's counsels: and he was grieved at the wizard's
death.
Thus they rode through the night; and it was the hour of dawn when they
came to the gates of Firmola. Now Antonio was puzzled what he should do;
for having been in a swoon, he knew not whether the Duke had more of the
potion; nor could he tell with certainty whether the potion would be
powerless against the senses of a weak girl as it had proved against his
own. Therefore he said to the Duke, "I pray you, my lord, give me more
of that sweet drink. For it has refreshed me and set my mind at rest
from all trouble."
"Nay, Antonio, you have had enough," said the Duke, bantering him. "I
have another use for the rest." And they were now nearing the gates of
Firmola. Then Antonio began to moan pitifully, saying, "These bonds hurt
my hands;" and he whined and did as a child would do, feigning to cry.
The Duke laughed in bitter triumph, saying to Lorenzo, "Indeed it is a
princely drug that makes Antonio of Monte Velluto like a peevish child!"
And being now very secure of the power of the drug, he bade Lorenzo
loosen the bonds, saying to Antonio, "Take the reins, Antonio, and ride
with us into the city."
And Antonio answered, "I will, my good lord."
"It is even as I saw when I was with the Lord of Florence," whispered
the Duke in exultation.
"Yet I will still have my sword ready," said Lorenzo.
"There is no need; he is like a tame dog," said the Duke carelessly.
But the Duke was not minded to produce Antonio to the people till all
his Guards were collected and under arms, and the people thus restrained
by a great show of force. Therefore he bade Antonio cover his face with
his cloak; and Antonio, Lorenzo's sword being still at his breast,
obeyed; and thus they three rode through the gates of Firmola and came
to the Duke's palace; and Antonio did all that the Duke ordered, and
babbled foolishly like a bewildered child when the Duke asked him
questions, so that His Highness laughed mightily, and, coming into the
garden, sat down in his favourite place by the fish-pond, causing
Antonio to stand over against him.
"Indeed, Antonio," said he, "I can do no other than hang you."
"If it be your pleasure, my lord."
"And then Lucia shall drink of this wonderful drug also, and she will be
content and obedient, and will gladly wed Lorenzo. Let us have her here
now, and give it to her without delay. You do not fret at that, Antonio?
You love not the obstinate girl?"
"In truth, no," laughed Antonio. "She is naught to me!" And he put his
hand to his head, saying perplexedly, "Lucia? Yes, I remember that name.
Who was she? Was she aught to me, my lord?"
Then Lorenzo wondered greatly, and the doubts that he had held
concerning the power of the wizard's drug melted away; yet he did not
laugh like the Duke, but looked on Antonio and said sadly to the Duke,
sinking his voice, "Not thus should Antonio of Monte Velluto have died."
"So he dies, I care not how," answered the Duke. "Indeed, I love to see
him a witless fool even while his body is yet alive. O rare wizard, I go
near to repenting having done justice on you! Go, Lorenzo, to the
officer of the Guard and bid him fetch hither the Lady Lucia, and we
will play the pretty comedy to the end."
"Will you be alone with him?" asked Lorenzo.
"Aye; why not? See! he is tame enough," and he buffeted Antonio in the
face with his riding-glove. And Antonio whimpered and whined.
Now the officer of the Guard was in his lodge at the entrance of the
palace, on the other side of the great hall; and Lorenzo turned and
went, and presently the sound of his feet on the marble floor of the
hall grew faint and distant. The Duke sat with the phial in his hand,
smiling at Antonio who crouched at his feet. And Antonio drew himself on
his knees quite close to the Duke, and looked up in his face with a
foolish empty smile. And the Duke, laughing, buffeted him again. Then,
with a sudden spring, like the spring of that Indian tiger which the
Mogul of Delhi sent lately as a gift to the Most Christian King, and the
king, for his diversion, made to slay deer before him at the _ch√Ęteau_
of Blois (which I myself saw, being there on a certain mission, and
wonderful was the sight), Count Antonio, leaping, was upon the Duke; and
he snatched the philtre from the Duke's hand and seized the Duke's head
in his hands and wrenched his jaw open, and he poured the contents of
the phial down the Duke's throat, and the Duke swallowed the potion.
Then Antonio fixed a stern and imperious glance on the Duke, nailing his
eyes to the Duke's and the Duke's to his, and he said in a voice of
command, "Obey! You have drunk the potion!" And still he kept his eyes
on the Duke's. And the Duke, amazed, suddenly began to tremble, and
sought to rise; and Antonio took his hands off him, but said, "Sit
there, and move not." Then, although Antonio's hands were no longer upon
him, yet His Highness did not rise, but after a short struggle with
himself sank back in his seat, and stared at Antonio like a bird
fascinated by a snake. And he moaned, "Take away your eyes; they burn my
brain. Take them away." But Antonio gazed all the more intently at him,
saying, "Be still, be still!" and holding up his arm in enforcement of
his command. And Antonio took from the Duke the sword that he wore and
the dagger wherewith the Duke had killed the Wizard of Baratesta, he
making no resistance, but sitting motionless with bewildered stare. Then
Antonio looked round, for he knew that Lorenzo would soon come. And for
the last time he bent his eyes again on the Duke's eyes in a very long
gaze and the Duke cowered and shivered, moaning, "You hurt me, you hurt
me."
Then Antonio said, "Be still and speak not till I return and bid you;"
and he suddenly left the Duke and ran at the top of his speed along
under the wall of the garden, and came where the wall ended; and there
was a flight of steps leading up on to the top of the wall. Running up
it, Antonio stood for a moment on the wall; and the river ran fifty
feet below. But he heard a cry from the garden, and beheld Lorenzo
rushing up to the Duke, and behind Lorenzo, the Captain of the Guard
and, two men who led a maiden in white. Then Count Antonio, having
commended himself to the keeping of God, leapt head foremost from the
top of the wall into the river, and his body clove the water as an arrow
cleaves the wand.
Now Lorenzo marvelled greatly at what he saw, and came to the Duke
crying, "My lord, what does this mean? Antonio flies!" But the Duke
answered nothing, sitting with empty eyes and lips set in a rigid smile;
nor did he move. "My lord, what ails you?" cried Lorenzo. Yet the Duke
did not answer. Then Lorenzo's eye fell on the fragments of the phial
which lay broken on the rim of the fish-pond where Antonio had flung it;
and he cried out in great alarm, "The potion! Where is the potion?" But
the Duke did not answer. And Lorenzo was much bewildered and in sore
fear; for it seemed as though His Highness's senses were gone; and
Lorenzo said, "By some means he has drunk the potion!" And he ran up to
the Duke, and caught him by the arm and shook him violently, seeking to
rouse him from his stupor, and calling his name with entreaties, and
crying, "He escapes, my lord; Antonio escapes! Rouse yourself, my
lord--he escapes!" But the Duke did no more than lift heavy dull eyes to
Lorenzo's face in puzzled inquiry.
And, seeing the strange thing, the Captain of the Guard hurried up, and
with him the Lady Lucia, and she said, "Alas, my lord is ill!" and
coming to His Highness she set her cool soft hand on his hot throbbing
brow, and took perfume from a silver flask that hung at her girdle, and
wetted her handkerchief with it and bathed his brow, whispering soft
soothing words to him, as though he had been a sick woman. For let a
woman have what grudge she may against a man, yet he gains pardon for
all so soon as he becomes sick enough to let her nurse and comfort him;
and Lucia was as tender to the Duke as to the Count Antonio himself,
and forgot all save the need of giving him ease and rousing him from
his stupor.
But Lorenzo cried angrily, "I at least have my senses!" And he said to
the Captain of the Guard, "I must needs stay with His Highness; but
Antonio of Monte Velluto has leapt from the wall into the river. Go and
bring him here, dead or alive, and I will be your warrant to the Duke.
But if he be as when I saw him last, he will give you small trouble. For
he was like a child for weakness and folly." And having said this, he
turned to the Duke again, and gave his aid to Lucia's ministrations.
Now the gentleman who commanded the Duke's Guard at this time was a
Spaniard, by name Corogna, and he was young, of high courage, and
burning to do some great deed. Therefore he said, "I pray he be as he is
wont to be: yet I will bring him to the feet of my lord the Duke." And
he ran swiftly through the hall and called for his horse, and drawing
his sword, rode alone out of the city and across the bridge, seeking
Antonio, and saying to himself, "What a thing if I take him! And if he
slay me, why, I will show that a gentleman of Andalusia can die;" yet
he thought for an instant of the house where his mother lived. Then he
scanned the plain, and he beheld a man running some half-mile away; and
the man seemed to be making for the hill on which stood the ruins of
Antonio's house that the Duke had burnt. Then Corogna set spurs to his
horse; but the man, whom by his stature and gait Corogna knew to be
Antonio, ran very swiftly, and was not overtaken before he came to the
hill; and he began to mount by a very steep rugged path, and he was out
of sight in the trees when Corogna came to the foot. And Corogna's horse
stumbled among the stones, and could not mount the path; so Corogna
sprang off his back and ran on foot up the path, sword in hand. And he
came in sight of Antonio round a curve of the path three parts of the
way up the hill. Antonio was leaning against the trunk of a tree and
wringing the water out of his cloak. Corogna drew near, sword in hand,
and with a prayer to the Holy Virgin on his lips. And he trembled, not
with fear, but because fate offered a great prize, and his name would
be famed throughout Italy if he slew or took Antonio of Monte Velluto;
and for fame, even as for a woman's smile, a young man will tremble as a
coward quakes with fear.
The Count Antonio stood as though sunk in a reverie; yet, presently,
hearing Corogna's tread, he raised his eyes, and smiling kindly on the
young man, he said, "Very strange are the ways of Heaven, sir. I think
that the Wizard of Baratesta spoke truth, and did not lie to the Duke.
Yet I had that same power which the wizard claimed, although the Duke
had none over me. We are children, sir, and our game is blind-man's
buff; but all are blinded, and it is but the narrowest glimpse that we
obtain now and again by some clever shifting of the handkerchief. Yet
there are some things clear enough; as that a man should do his work,
and be clean and true. What would you with me, sir? For I do not think I
know you."
"I am of Andalusia, and my name is Corogna. I am Captain of His
Highness's Guard, and I come to bring you, alive or dead, to his
presence."
"And are you come alone on that errand, sir?" asked Antonio with a smile
that he strove to smother, lest it should wound the young man's honour.
"David slew Goliath, my lord," said the Spaniard with a bow.
Then Count Antonio held out his hand to the young man and said
courteously, "Sir, your valour needs no proof and fears no reproach. I
pray you suffer me to go in peace. I would not fight with you, if I may
avoid it honourably. For what has happened has left me more in the mood
for thinking than for fighting. Besides, sir, you are young, and, far
off in Andalusia, loving eyes, and maybe sparkling eyes, are strained to
the horizon, seeking your face as you return."
"What is all that, my lord?" asked Corogna. "I am a man, though a young
one; and I am here to carry you to the Duke." And he touched Antonio's
sword with his, saying, "Guard yourself."
"It is with great pain and reluctance that I take my sword, and I call
you to witness of it; but if I must, I must;" and the Count took up his
position and they crossed swords.
Now Corogna was well-taught and skilful, but he did not know the cunning
which Antonio had learned in the school of Giacomo in Padua, nor had he
the strength and endurance of the Count. Antonio would fain have wearied
him out, and then, giving him some slight wound to cover his honour,
have left him and escaped; but the young man came at him impetuously,
and neglected to guard himself while he thrust at his enemy: once and
again the Count spared him; but he did not know that he had received the
courtesy, and taking heart from his immunity came at Antonio more
fiercely again; until at last Antonio, breathing a sigh, stiffened his
arm, and, waiting warily for the young man again to uncover himself,
thrust at his breast, and the sword's point entered hard by the young
man's heart; and the young man staggered, and would have fallen,
dropping his sword; but Antonio cast away his own sword and supported
him, stanching the blood from the wound and crying, "God send I have not
killed him!"
And on his speech came the voice of Tommasino, saying carelessly, "Here,
in truth, cousin, is a good prayer wasted on a Spaniard!"
Antonio, looking up, saw Tommasino and Bena. And Tommasino said, "When
you did not come back, we set out to seek you, fearing that you were
fallen into some snare and danger. And behold, we find you nursing this
young spark; and how you missed his heart, Antonio, I know not, nor what
Giacomo of Padua would say to such bungling."
But Antonio cared not for his cousin's words, which were spoken in a
banter that a man uses to hide his true feelings; and they three set
themselves to save the young man's life; for Tommasino and Bena had seen
the better part of the fight and perceived that he was a gallant youth.
But as they tended him, there came shouts and the sound of horses' hoofs
mounting the hill by the winding road that led past Antonio's house. And
Tommasino touched Antonio on the shoulder, saying, "We can do no more
for him; and if we linger, we must fight again."
Then they laid the young man down, Antonio stripping off his cloak and
making a pillow of it; and Bena brought the horses, for they had led one
with them for Antonio, in case there should be need of it; and they were
but just mounted when twenty of the Duke's Guard appeared three hundred
yards away, ascending the crest of the hill.
"Thank Heaven there are so many," said Antonio, "for now we can flee
without shame;" and they set spurs to their horses and fled. And certain
of the Duke's Guard pursued, but only two or three were so well mounted
as to be able to come near them; and these two or three, finding that
they would be man to man, had no liking for the business, and each
called out that his horse was foundered; and thus it was that none of
them came up with Count Antonio, but all, after a while, returned
together to the city, carrying the young Spaniard Corogna, their
captain. But as they drew near to the gates, Corogna opened his eyes and
murmured some soft-syllabled name that they could not hear, and, having
with failing fingers signed the cross, turned on his side and died. And
they brought his body to the great hall of the Duke's palace.
There in the great hall sat Duke Valentine: his face was pale and his
frown heavy, and he gazed on the dead body of the young man and spoke no
word. Yet he had loved Corogna, and out of love for him had made him
Captain of his Guard. And he passed his hand wearily across his brow,
murmuring, "I cannot think, I cannot think." And the Lady Lucia stood by
him, her hand resting on his shoulder and her eyes full of tears. But at
last the strange spell which lay on the senses of the Duke passed away:
his eyes again had the light of reason in them, and he listened while
they told him how Antonio had himself escaped, and had afterwards slain
Corogna on the top of the hill where Antonio's house had stood. And the
Duke was very sorry for Corogna's death: and he looked round on them
all, saying, "He made of me a log of wood, and not a man. For when I had
drunk and looked in his eyes, it seemed to me that my eyes were bound to
his, and that I looked to him for command, and to know what I should
do, and that he was my God, and without his will I could not move. Yes,
I was then to him even as he had seemed to be to me as we rode from
Baratesta. And even now I am not free from this strange affection; for
he seems still to be by me, and if his voice came now bidding me to do
anything, by St. Prisian, I should arise and do it! Send my physician to
me. And let this young man lie in the Chapel of the Blessed Virgin in
the Cathedral, and to-morrow he shall be buried. But when I am well, and
this strange affection is passed from me, and hangs no more like a fog
over my brain, then I will exact the price of his death from Antonio,
together with the reckoning of all else in respect of which he stands in
my debt."
But the Lady Lucia, hearing this, said boldly, "My lord, it is by your
deed and through your devices that this gentleman has met his death, and
the blame of it is yours, and not my lord Antonio's."
At her bold and angry words Duke Valentine was roused, and the last of
his languor left him; and he glared at her in wrath, crying "Go to your
house;" and he rose up suddenly from where he sat and went into his
cabinet, Lorenzo attending him. And on the day after he walked first
behind the bier of Corogna, and his face was very pale, but his air
composed and his manner as it was wont to be. For the spell had passed
and he was his own man again.
But Count Antonio heard with great grief of the death of the young man,
and was very sorry that he had been constrained to kill him, and took
great blame to himself for seeking counsel of the Wizard of Baratesta,
whence had come death to the young man no less than to the wizard
himself.
Such is the story of the drug which the Wizard of Baratesta gave to Duke
Valentine of Firmola. To me it seems a strange tale, but yet it is well
attested and stands on as strong a rock of testimony as anything which
is told concerning the Count. The truth of it I do not understand, and
often I ponder of it, wondering whether the Wizard of Baratesta spoke
truth, and why the drug which had no power over Count Antonio bound the
senses and limbs of the Duke in utter torpor and helplessness. And once,
when I was thus musing over the story, there came to my cell a monk of
the Abbey of St. Prisian, who was an old man and very learned; and I
went to walk with him in the garden, and coming to the fountain we sat
down by the basin; and knowing that his lore was wide and deep, I set
before him all the story, asking him if he knew of this strange drug;
but he smiled at me, and taking the cup that lay by the basin of the
fountain, he filled it with the clear sparkling water and drank a
little, and held the cup to me, saying, "I think the Wizard of Baratesta
would have wrought the spell as well with no other drug than this."
"You say a strange thing," said I.
"And I do not marvel," said he, "that the Duke had no power over Count
Antonio, for he knew not how to wield such power. But neither do I
wonder that power lay in Count Antonio to bend the mind of the Duke to
his will. I warrant you, Ambrose, that the wonderful drug was not
difficult to compound."
Then I understood what he meant; for he would have it that the drug was
but a screen and a pretence, and that the power lay not in it, but in
the man that gave it. Yet surely this is to explain what is obscure by a
thing more obscure, and falls thus into a fault hated of the logicians.
For Heaven may well have made a drug that binds the senses and limbs of
men. Has not the poppy some such effect? And the ancients fabled the
like of the lotus plant. But can we conceive that one man should by the
mere glance of his eye have such power over another as to become to him,
by these means and no other, a lord and master? In truth I find that
hard to believe, and I doubt whether a man may lawfully believe it. Yet
I know not. Knowledge spreads, and men grow wiser in hidden things; and
although I who write may not live till the time when the thing shall be
made clear, yet it may be God's will to send such light to the men of
later days that, reading this story, they may find in it nothing that is
strange or unknown to their science and skill. I pray that they may use
the knowledge God sends in His holy service, and not in the work of the
devil, as did the Wizard of Baratesta.
But Count Antonio being, by his guile and adroitness, and by that
strange power which he had from the drug or whence I know not, delivered
out of the hands of Duke Valentine, abode with his company on the hills
throughout the cold of winter, expecting the day when he might win the
hand of the Lady Lucia; and she returned to her house, and said nothing
of what had befallen the Duke. Yet the Duke showed her no tenderness,
but rather used more severity with her. It is an evil service to a proud
man to aid him in his day of humiliation.