I promessi sposi. English

by Alessandro Manzoni

  CHAPTER XXXVII.

  One fine evening Agnes heard a carriage drive up to the door of hercottage. It was Lucy and the good widow. We can easily imagine the joyof the meeting.

  The following morning Renzo made his appearance, at an early hour,little expecting to find Lucy with her mother. "How are you, Renzo?"said Lucy, with downcast eyes, and in a tone--oh how different from thatwith which she addressed all besides! Renzo was conscious that it wasmeant for him alone.

  "I am always well when I see you," replied the young man.

  "Our poor Father Christopher," said Lucy, "pray for his soul, althoughwe may be almost sure he is now in heaven, praying for us."

  "I expected no less," said Renzo mournfully, "I expected to hear that hewas taken away from this world of sorrow and trouble."

  Notwithstanding the sadness of their recollections, joy was thepredominant feeling of their hearts. The good widow was an agreeableaddition to the little company. When Renzo saw her in the miserablecabin at the lazaretto, he could not have believed her to be of sofacile and gay a disposition; but the lazaretto and the country, deathand a wedding, are not at all the same things. During the evening Renzoleft them, for the purpose of visiting the curate. "Signor Curate," saidhe, with a respectful but jocular air, "the headache, which, you said,prevented you from marrying us, has it passed off? The bride is here,and I am come to have you appoint an hour, but, I pray you, not to letit be far distant."

  Don Abbondio did not say he would not; but he began to offer excuses andinsinuations. "Why come forward into public view with this order for hisapprehension hanging over him? and the thing could be easily doneelsewhere, and then this, and then that."

  "I understand," said Renzo, "you have still a little pain in your head,but listen to me." And he described the state in which he had seen DonRoderick.

  "That has nothing to do with us," said Don Abbondio. "Did I say no toyou? However, while there is life there is hope, you know. Look at me; Ihave also been nearer the other world than this, and here I amnevertheless; and if new troubles do not fall upon me, I hope to remainhere a little longer."

  The conversation was prolonged some time, without coming to anysatisfactory conclusion, and Renzo returned home to relate it. "I cameoff," said he, "because I feared I should lose all patience. At times hebehaved exactly as he did before, and I verily believe if I had remaineda little longer, he would have spoken Latin again. I see that all thisportends a tedious business. It would be better to do as he says, and goand be married where we intend to live."

  "Let us go and see what we can do," said the widow, "perhaps he will bemore tractable to the ladies."

  They followed this advice, and in the afternoon proceeded to theparsonage. The curate evinced much pleasure on seeing Lucy and Agnes,and much politeness towards the stranger. He endeavoured to divert thediscourse from that which he knew to be the purport of their visit. Hebegged from Lucy a recital of all her woes, and availed himself of theaccount of the lazaretto to draw the stranger into the conversation. Hethen expatiated on his own miseries, which he detailed at full length.The pause so long watched for came at last. One of the widows broke theice; but Don Abbondio was no longer the same man; he did not say _no_;but he returned to his doubts and his difficulties, jumping like a birdfrom branch to branch. "It would be necessary," said he, "to get freefrom this unlucky order. You, signora, who live at Milan, you ought toknow the course of these things; if we had the protection of somepowerful man, all wounds would be healed. After all, the shortest waywould be to have the ceremony performed where these young people aregoing, and where this proscription cannot affect them. Here, with thisorder, which is known to every one, to utter from the altar the name ofLorenzo Tramaglino is a thing I should be very unwilling to do. I wishhim too well; it would be rendering him an ill service."

  While Agnes and the widow were endeavouring to reply to these reasons,which the subtle curate as often reproduced under another form, Renzoentered the room, with the air of one bringing important intelligence,"The Lord Marquis *** has arrived!" said he.

  "What do you mean? arrived! where?" said Don Abbondio, rising.

  "He has arrived at his castle, which was Don Roderick's: he is the heirby feoffment of trust, as they say. So that there is no longer a doubton the subject. And as to the marquis, he is a most worthy man."

  "That he is," said Don Abbondio; "I have often heard him spoken of as anexcellent lord. But is it really true that----"

  "Will you believe your sexton?"

  "Why----"

  "Because he saw him with his own eyes. Will you hear Ambrose? I made himwait without expressly."

  Renzo called the sexton, who confirmed the intelligence.

  "Ah, he is dead then! he is really gone!" said Don Abbondio. "You see,my children, the hand of Providence. It is a happy thing for this poorcountry: we could not live with this man. The plague has been a greatscourge, but it has also been, as it were, a serviceable broom; it hasswept off certain people, of whom, my children, we could never havedelivered ourselves. In the twinkling of an eye they have disappeared bythe hundred. We shall no longer see him wandering about with thathaughty air, followed by his cut throats, and looking at every body asif they were all placed on earth for his pleasure. He is gone, and weare still here! He will send no more messages to honest people. He hasmade us all pass a sad life; and now we are at liberty to say so."

  "I pardon him," said Renzo, "with all my heart."

  "And you do well; it is your duty; but we may also thank Heaven fordelivering us from him. Now, if you wish to be married, I am ready. Asto the _order for your seizure_, that is of little importance; theplague has carried off that too. If you choose--to-day is Thursday--onSunday, I will publish the banns, and then I shall have the happiness ofuniting you."

  "You know we came for that purpose," said Renzo.

  "Very well; and I will send word of it to his Eminence."

  "Who is his Eminence?" asked Agnes.

  "His Eminence? our lord cardinal archbishop, whom may God preserve!"

  "Oh, as to that, you are mistaken; I can tell you they do not call himso, because the second time we went to speak with him, one of thepriests drew me aside, and told me I must call him your illustriouslordship, and my lord."

  "And now, if that same priest were to tell you, he would say you mustcall him _Your Eminence_; the pope has ordered, that this title be givento the cardinals. And do you know why? Because _Most Illustrious_ wasassumed by so many people who had no right to it. By and by, they willcall the bishops _Your Eminence_, then the abbots will claim it, thenthe canons----"

  "And the curates," said the widow.

  "No, no, let the curates alone for that; they will be only _YourReverence_ to the end of the world. But to return to our affairs. OnSunday, I will publish the banns at the church, and obtain, in the meantime, a dispensation for omitting the two other publications. There willbe plenty of similar applications, if things go on elsewhere as they dohere; the fire has taken; no one will wish to live alone, I imagine; Ihave already three marriages on hand besides yours; what a pity Perpetuais dead, she might find a husband! And at Milan, signora, I imagine itis the same thing."

  "Yes, indeed. In my parish alone there were fifty marriages lastSunday."

  "Well, the world wo'n't end yet. And you, signora, has no butterflybegun to fly around you?"

  "No, no, I think not of it; I do not mean to think of it."

  "Oh, yes, yes; would you be alone indeed? Agnes also, Agnes also----"

  "You have a mind to jest," said Agnes.

  "To be sure I have; it is high time. We may hope that the few days thatremain to us will be less sad. As for me, poor old man! there is noremedy for years, as they say, _Senectus ipsa est morbus_."

  "Oh, now," said Renzo, "you may speak Latin as much as you like; I don'tcare about it now."

  "You still quarrel with Latin, do you? Well, I will not forget you. Whenyou come before me with Lucy, to pronounce some little words in Latin,
Iwill say to you, You do not like Latin, go in peace. Eh?"

  "Ah, it is not that Latin I dislike, pure and holy like that of themass; I speak of the Latin which falls on one as a traitor, in the verymidst of conversation. For example, now that we are here, and all ispast, the Latin you spoke there, in that corner, to make me understandthat you could not, and----I know not what. Tell me now in language Ican understand, will you?"

  "Hush! you mischievous fellow, hush!" said Don Abbondio. "Do not stir upold grievances: if we were to settle our accounts, I do not know whichof us would be in debt to the other. I have forgiven you, but you alsoplayed me an ill turn. As for you, it did not astonish me, because youare a good-for-nothing fellow; but I speak of this silent--this littlesaint; one would have thought it a sin to distrust her. But I know whoadvised her; I know I do," added he, pointing to Agnes.

  It is impossible to describe the change which had come over him. Hismind, so long the slave of continual apprehension, was now emancipatedfrom its fetters, and his tongue, liberated from its bonds, recurred toits former habits. He playfully prolonged the conversation, evenfollowing them to the door, with some parting jest.

  The following morning, Don Abbondio received a visit, as agreeable as itwas unexpected, from the lord marquis, whose appearance confirmed allthat report had said of him. "I come," said he, "to bring you thesalutations of the cardinal archbishop."

  "Oh, what condescension in both of you!"

  "When I took leave of that incomparable man, who honours me with hisfriendship, he spoke to me of two young people of this parish who havesuffered much from the unfortunate Don Roderick. My lord wishes to hearof them. Are they living? Are their affairs settled?"

  "Their affairs are settled; and I had thought of writing to his Eminenceabout it, but now that I have the honour----"

  "Are they here?"

  "Yes; and as soon as possible, they will be man and wife."

  "I request you to tell me what I can do for them, and the best manner ofdoing it. You will render me a service by enabling me to dispose of someof my superfluous wealth for their benefit."

  "May Heaven reward you! I thank you in the name of my children," saidDon Abbondio; "and since your lordship allows me, I have an expedient tosuggest which perhaps will not displease you. These good people haveresolved to establish themselves elsewhere, and to sell the little thatbelongs to them here. The best charity you can render them, is to buytheir property, as otherwise it will be sold for little or nothing. Butyour lordship will decide, I have spoken in obedience to your commands."

  The marquis thanked Don Abbondio, telling him he should leave it to himto fix the price, and to do so entirely to their advantage, as it was anobject with him to make the amount as large as possible. He thenproposed that they should go together to the cottage of Lucy.

  On their way, Don Abbondio, quite overjoyed continued theconversation,--"Since your lordship is so disposed to benefit thispeople, there is another service you can render them. The young man hasan order for his apprehension out against him, for some folly hecommitted two years ago at Milan, on the day of the great Tumult. Arecommendation, a word, from a man like yourself, might hereafter be ofservice to him."

  "Are there not heavy charges against him?"

  "They made a great deal of noise about it; but really there was nothingin it."

  "Well, well; I will take it upon myself to free him from allembarrassment."

  We may imagine the surprise of our little company, at a visit from sucha guest. He entered agreeably into conversation with them and after awhile, made his proposal. Don Abbondio, being requested by him to fixthe price, did so; the purchaser said he was well satisfied, and, if hehad not understood him, in repeating it, doubled the sum. He would nothear of rectifying the mistake, and ended the conversation by invitingthe company to dinner the day after the wedding, when the affair couldbe settled with every necessary formality.

  "Ah!" thought Don Abbondio when he returned home, "if the pestilenceacted everywhere with so much discrimination, it would be a pity tospeak ill of it. We should want one every generation."

  The happy day at length arrived. The betrothed went to the church wherethey were united by Don Abbondio. The day after, the wedding party madetheir visit at the castle. We will leave the reader to imagine theirreflections on entering those walls! In the midst of their joy,however, they felt that the presence of the good Father Christopher waswanting to complete it. "But," said Lucy, "he is even happier than weare, assuredly."

  The contract was drawn up by a doctor, but not _Azzecca Garbugli_! Hewas gone to _Canterelli_. For those who are not of this country, anexplanation of this expression may be necessary.

  About half a mile above Lecco, and nearly on the borders of the otherterritory, called Castello, is _Canterelli_. This was a spot where tworoads cross. Near the point of junction there is a small eminence, anartificial hill, surmounted by a cross. This was a heap of bodies, deadof this epidemic. It is true, tradition simply says, _the dead of theepidemic_; but it must have been this one, as it was the last, and mostsevere within the memory of man: and we know that tradition says verylittle of itself, unless we render it some assistance.

  On their return, no other inconvenience was felt, than the weight of themoney which Renzo had to sustain. However, he did not look upon this asone of the greatest hardships he had had to encounter. There was,however, one matter which perplexed him not a little. How should heemploy it? Should it be in agriculture? Should it be in business? Or whychoose at all? Were not both in turn, like one's legs, better thaneither singly?

  It will be asked, Did they feel no regrets on quitting their nativevillage--their native mountains? Don Roderick and his wretched agentscould no longer disturb them. Regrets they did feel; but the oldrecollections of happiness enjoyed amidst its scenes, had been greatlyweakened by recent distresses and apprehensions, and new hopes hadarisen connected with their new country; so that they could look totheir change of abode without any feelings of grief.

  The little company now thought only of preparing for their journey,--the_Tramaglino_ family to their new country, and the widow to Milan. Manytears were shed, many thanks given, and many promises to meet again. Theseparation of Renzo and the friend who had treated him so hospitably,was not less tender. Neither did they part coldly from Don Abbondio:they had always preserved a certain respect for their curate, and he, inhis heart, had always wished them well. It is these unfortunate affairsof the world which perplex our affections. But who would believe that,in this new abode, where Renzo had expected such happiness, he shouldfind only vexation! This was the result of trifles, doubtless; but itrequires so little to disturb a state of happiness in this life!

  The reports the Bergamascans had heard of Lucy, together with Renzo'sextraordinary attachment to her--perhaps, too, the representations ofsome partial friend--had contributed to excite an extravagant idea ofher beauty. When Lucy appeared, they began to shrug their shoulders, andsay, "Is this the woman? We expected something very different! What isshe, after all? A peasant, like a thousand others! Women like her, andfairer than she, are to be found every where!"

  Unfortunately, some kind friends told Renzo these things, perhaps addedto what they had heard, and roused his indignation. "And whatconsequence is it to you?" said he. "Who told you what to expect? Did Iever do so? Did I tell you she was beautiful? She is a peasant,forsooth! Did I ever say I would bring a princess here? She does notplease you. Do not look at her, then: you have beautiful women; look atthem." Thus did he make himself unhappy; and believing that all weredisposed to criticise his Lucy, he showed ill nature in return. It wouldhave gone ill with him, if he had been condemned to remain in the place;but fortune smiled on him in this respect.

  The master of another manufactory, situated near the gates of Bergamo,being dead, the inheritor of it, a young libertine, was willing to sellit half price, for ready money. Bortolo proposed to his cousin that theyshould make the purchase together. They did so; and when they enteredinto
possession, Lucy was much pleased, and Renzo also, and not the lessso for having heard that more than one person amongst his neighbours hadsaid, "Have you seen this beautiful simpleton who is just come?"

  Their affairs now went on prosperously. Before the year was completed,a beautiful little creature made her appearance, as if to give them theearliest opportunity of fulfilling Lucy's vow. Be assured it was namedMaria. In the course of time, they were surrounded by others of bothsexes, whom Agnes was delighted to carry about one after the other,calling them little rogues, and loading them with kisses. They were alltaught to read and write; "for," said Renzo, "as this notion is in thecountry, we may as well take advantage of it."

  It was highly pleasing to hear him relate his adventures: he alwaysconcluded by naming the great things he had learnt, by which to governhis conduct for the future. "I have learnt," said he, "not to mix inquarrels; not to preach in public; not to drink more than I want; not tokeep my hand on the knocker of a door, when the inhabitants of the placeare all crazy; not to tie a little bell to my feet, before I think ofthe consequences."

  "And I!" said Lucy, who thought that the doctrine of her moralist,though sound, was rather confused, and certainly incomplete--"what haveI learnt?" said she. "I have not sought misfortunes, they have soughtme. Unless you say," smiling affectionately, "that my error was inloving you, and promising myself to you."

  They settled the question, by deciding that misfortunes most commonlyhappen to us from our own misconduct or imprudence; but sometimes fromcauses independent of ourselves; that the most innocent and prudentconduct cannot always preserve us from them; and that, whether theyarise from our own fault or not, trust in God softens them, and rendersthem useful in preparing us for a better life. Although this was said bypoor peasants, it appears to us so just, that we offer it here as themoral of our story.

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  Transcriber's note:

  Original spelling, even where inconsistent, and punctuation havebeen preserved. Minor typographical errors have been correctedwithout note. Typographical errors corrected in the text (inbrackets the original):

  12 - the most excellent works o [part of word missing, "on" inserted] morals 21 - most excellent [excellen] lord Juan Fernandez 116 - Without [Witout] waiting for a reply 250 - union between [betwen] them 281 - and asks admittance [admiitance] 306 - Throughout [Thoughout] the village 325 - accepted with many thanks the kind [part of word missing, "kindness" inserted]