‘Pater Patriæ! Pater Patriæ!’
Checco walked along with bare head, his eyes cast down, his face quite white. His triumph was so great — that he was afraid!
The great procession entered the street in which stood the Palazzo Orsi, and at the same moment, from the gates of the palace issued Checco’s wife and his children. They came towards us, followed by a troop of noble ladies. They met and Checco, opening his arms, clasped his wife to his breast and kissed her tenderly; then, with his arm round her waist, the children on each side, he proceeded towards his house. If the enthusiasm had been great before, now it was ten times greater. The people did not know what to do to show their joy; no words could express their emotion; they could only give a huge deafening shout, —
‘Pater Patriæ! Pater Patriæ!’
XXVI
AFTER a while the formal embassy sent to Cesena came back with the message that the Protonotary Savello had been filled with doubts as to whether he should accept the town or no; but seeing the Forlivesi firm in their desire to come under the papal rule, and being convinced that their pious wish had been inspired by the most High Ruler of Kings, he had not ventured to contradict the manifest will of Heaven, and therefore would come and take possession of the city in person.
Checco smiled a little as he heard of the worthy man’s doubts and the arguments used by the ambassadors to persuade him; but he fully agreed with Monsignor Savello’s decision, thinking the reasons very cogent....
The protonotary was received with all due honour. Savello was a middle-sized, stout man, with a great round belly and a fat red face, double-chinned and bull-necked. He had huge ears and tiny eyes, like pig’s eyes, but they were very sharp and shrewd. His eyebrows were pale and thin, so that with the enormous expanse of shaven cheek his face had a look of almost indecent nakedness. His hair was scanty and his crown quite bald and shiny. He was gorgeously dressed in violet. After the greetings and necessary courtesies, he was informed of the state of things in Forli. He was vexed to find the citadel still in the hands of the Castellan, who had been summoned with great courtesy to surrender to the papal envoy, but without any courtesy at all had very stoutly declined. Savello said he would speak to the Countess and make her order the Castellan to open his gates. I was sent forward to inform Caterina of the last occurrences and of the protonotary’s desire for an interview.
The Countess had received apartments in the Orsi Palace, and it was in one of these rooms that the good Savello was ushered.
He stopped on the threshold, and lifting up his arm stretched out two fingers, and in his thick, fat voice, said, —
‘The peace of God be upon you!’
Caterina bowed and crossed herself. He went up to her and took her hand in his.
‘Madam, it has always been my hope that I should some day meet the lady whose fame has reached me as the most talented, most beautiful, and most virtuous of her time. But I did not think that the day of our meeting would be one of such bitterness and woe!’
He expressed himself in measured tones, grave and slow, and very fit to the occasion.
‘Ah, lady, you do not know the grief I felt when I was made acquainted with your terrible loss. I knew your dear husband in Rome, and I always felt for him a most profound affection and esteem.’
‘You are very kind!’ she said.
‘I can understand that you should be overwhelmed with grief, and I trust you do not think my visit importunate. I have come to offer you such consolation as is in my power; for is it not the most blessed work that our Divine Master has imposed upon us, to comfort the afflicted?’
‘I was under the impression that you had come to take over the city on behalf of the Pope.’
‘Ah, lady, I see that you are angry with me for taking the city from you; but do not think I do it of myself. Ah, no; I am a slave, I am but a servant of his Holiness. For my part, I would have acted far otherwise, not only for your own merits, great as they are, but also for the merits of the Duke, your brother.’
His unction was most devout. He clasped his hand to his heart and looked up to Heaven so earnestly that the pupils of his eyes disappeared beneath the lids, and one could only see the whites. In this attitude he was an impressive picture of morality.
‘I beseech you, madam, bravely to bear your evil fortunes. Do we not know that fortune is uncertain? If the city has been taken from you it is the will of God, and as a Christian you must, with resignation, submit yourself to His decrees. Remember that the ways of the Almighty are inscrutable. The soul of the sinner is purified by suffering. We must all pass through the fire. Perhaps these misfortunes will be the means of saving your soul alive. And now that this city has returned to the fold of the Master — for is not the Holy Father the Vicar of Christ — be assured that the loss you have suffered will be made good to you in the love of his Holiness, and that eventually you will receive the reward of the sinner who has repented, and sit amongst the elect singing hymns of praise to the glory of the Master of all things.’
He paused to take breath. I saw Caterina’s fingers convulsively close round the arm of her chair; she was restraining herself with difficulty.
‘But the greatest grief of all is the loss of your husband, Girolamo. Ah, how beautiful is the grief of a widow! But it was the will of God. And what has he to complain of now? Let us think of him clad in robes of light, with a golden harp in his hands. Ah, lady, he is an angel in heaven, and we are miserable sinners upon earth. How greatly to be envied is his lot! He was a humble, pious man, and he has his reward. Ah—’
But she could hold back no longer. She burst forth like a fury.
‘Oh, how can you stand before me, uttering these hypocrisies? How dare you say these things to me, when you are enjoying the fruits of his death and my misfortune? Hypocrite! You are the vulture feeding with the crows, and you come and whine and pray and talk to me of the will of God!’
She clasped her hands and lifted them passionately towards heaven.
‘Oh, I hope that my turn will come, and then I will show you what is the will of God. Let them take care!’
‘You are incensed, dear lady, and you know not what you say. You will regret that you have accepted my consolations with disdain. But I forgive you with a Christian spirit.’
‘I do not want your forgiveness. I despise you.’
She uttered the words like the hiss of a serpent. Savello’s eyes sparkled a little, and his thin lips were drawn rather thinner than before, but he only sighed, and said gently, —
‘You are beside yourself. You should turn to the Consoler of Sorrow. Watch and pray!’
‘What is it you want with me?’ she said, taking no notice of his remark.
Savello hesitated, looking at her. She beat her foot impatiently.
‘Quick!’ she said. ‘Tell me, and let me remain in peace. I am sick of you.’
‘I came to offer you consolation, and to bid you be of good faith.’
‘Do you think I am a fool? If you have no further business with me — go!’
The priest now had some difficulty in containing himself; his eyes betrayed him.
‘I am a man of peace, and I desire to spill no blood. Therefore I wished to propose that you should come with me and summon the Castellan to give up the citadel, which may be the means of avoiding much bloodshed, and also of gaining the thanks of the Holy Father.’
‘I will not help you. Shall I aid you to conquer my own town?’
‘You must remember that you are in our hands, fair lady,’ he answered meekly.
‘Well?’
‘I am a man of peace, but I might not be able to prevent the people from revenging themselves on you for your refusal. It will be impossible to hide from them that you are the cause of the holding back of the citadel.’
‘I can well understand that you would hesitate at nothing.’
‘It is not I, dear lady—’
‘Ah, no; you are the servant of the Pope! It is the will of God!’
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‘You would be wise to do as we request.’
There was a look of such ferocity in his face that one saw he would indeed hesitate at nothing. Caterina thought a little....
‘Very well,’ she said, to my intense surprise, ‘I will do my best.’
‘You will gain the gratitude of the Holy Father and my own thanks.’
‘I put an equal value upon both.’
‘And now, madam, I will leave you. Take comfort, and apply yourself to pious exercises. In prayer you will find a consolation for all your woes.’
He raised his hand as before, and, with the outstretched fingers, repeated the blessing.
XXVII
WE went to the fortress in solemn procession, the people, as we passed, mingling shouts of praise for Checco with yells of derision for Caterina. She walked on with her stately indifference, and when the protonotary addressed her, repelled him with disdain.
The Castellan was summoned, and the Countess addressed him in the words which Savello had suggested, —
‘As Heaven has taken the Count from me, and also the city, I beg you, by the confidence I showed in choosing you as Castellan, to surrender this fortress to the ministers of His Holiness the Pope.’
There was a light tinge of irony in her voice, and her lips showed the shadow of a smile.
The Castellan replied gravely, —
‘By the confidence you showed in choosing me as Castellan, I refuse to surrender this fortress to the ministers of his Holiness the Pope. And as Heaven has taken the Count from you, and also the city, it may take the citadel too, but, by God! madam, no power on earth shall.’
Caterina turned to Savello, —
‘What shall I do?’
‘Insist.’
She solemnly repeated her request, and he solemnly made his reply.
‘It is no good,’ she said, ‘I know him too well. He thinks I am speaking under compulsion. He does not know that I am acting of my own will, for the great love I bear the Pope and the Church.’
‘We must have the citadel,’ said Savello, emphatically. ‘If we do not get it, I cannot answer for your safety.’
She looked at him; then an idea seemed to occur to her.
‘Perhaps if I went in and spoke to him he would consent to surrender.’
‘We cannot allow you out of our power,’ said Checco.
‘You would have my children as hostages.’
‘That is true,’ mused Savello; ‘I think we can let her go.’
Checco disapproved, but the priest overruled him, and the Castellan was summoned again, and ordered to admit the Countess. Savello warned her, —
‘Remember that we hold your children, and shall not hesitate to hang them before your eyes if—’
‘I know your Christian spirit, Monsignor,’ she interrupted.
But when she was inside she turned to us, and from the ramparts addressed us with mocking laughter. The fury which had been boiling within her burst out. She hurled at us words of foul abuse, so that one might have thought her a fishwife; she threatened us with death, and every kind of torture, in revenge for the murder of her husband....
We stood looking up at her with open mouths, dumbfounded. A cry of rage broke from the people; Matteo uttered an oath. Checco looked angrily at Savello, but said nothing. The priest was furious; his big red face grew purple, and his eyes glistened like a serpent’s.
‘Bastard!’ he hissed. ‘Bastard!’
Trembling with anger, he ordered the children to be sent for, and he cried out to the Countess, —
‘Do not think that we shall hesitate. Your sons shall be hanged before your very eyes.’
‘I have the means of making more,’ she replied scornfully.
She was lion-hearted. I could not help feeling admiration for the extraordinary woman. Surely she could not sacrifice her children! And I wondered if a man would have had the courage to give that bold answer to Savello’s threats.
Savello’s expression had become fiendish. He turned to his assistants.
‘Let a double scaffold be erected here, at once and quickly.’
The chiefs of the conspiracy retired to a sheltered place, while the mob gathered in the piazza; and soon the buzz of many voices mingled with hammering and the cries of workmen. The Countess stood above looking at the people, watching the gradual erection of the scaffold.
In a little while its completion was announced. Savello and the others came forward, and the priest once more asked her whether she would surrender. She did not deign to answer. The two boys were brought forward — one was nine, the other seven. As the people looked upon their youth a murmur of pity passed through them. My own heart began to beat a little. They looked at the scaffold and could not understand; but Cesare, the younger, seeing the strange folk round him and the angry faces, began to cry. Ottaviano was feeling rather tearful too; but his superior age made him ashamed, and he was making mighty efforts to restrain himself. All at once Cesare caught sight of his mother, and he called to her. Ottaviano joined him, and they both cried out, —
‘Mother! Mother!’
She looked at them, but made not the slightest motion, she might have been of stone.... Oh, it was horrible; she was too hard!
‘Once more, I ask you,’ said Savello, ‘will you surrender the castle?’
‘No — no!’
Her voice was quite steady, ringing clear as a silver bell.
Savello made a sign, and two men approached the boys. Then suddenly they seemed to understand; with a shriek they ran to Checco, and, falling at his feet, clasped his knees. Ottaviano could hold out no longer; he burst into tears, and his brother, at the elder’s weakness, redoubled his own cries.
‘Oh, Checco, don’t let them touch us!’
Checco took no notice of them; he looked straight in front of him. And even when the Count had just fallen under his dagger he had not been so ghastly pale.... The children were sobbing desperately at his knees. The men hesitated; but there was no pity in the man of God; he repeated his sign more decisively than before, and the men advanced. The children clung to Checco’s legs, crying, —
‘Checco, don’t let them touch us!’
He made no sign. He held his eyes straight in front of him, as if he saw nothing, heard nothing. But his face! Never have I seen such agony....
The children were torn from him, their hands bound behind their backs. How could they! My heart was bursting within me, but I dared say nothing. They were led to the scaffold. A sobbing cry came from the people and wailed through the heavy air.
The Countess stood still, looking at her children. She made not the slightest motion; she might have been of stone.
The children cried out, —
‘Checco! Checco!’
It was heartbreaking.
‘Go on!’ said Savello.
A groan burst from Checco, and he swayed to and fro, as if he were going to fall.
‘Go on!’ said Savello.
But Checco could not bear it.
‘Oh, God! Stop! — stop!’
‘What do you mean?’ said Savello, angrily. ‘Go on!’
‘I cannot! Untie them!’
‘You fool! I threatened to hang them, and I will. Go on!’
‘You shall not! Untie them, I tell you!’
‘I am master here. Go on!’
Checco strode towards him with clenched fists.
‘By God, Master Priest, you shall go the way you came, if you thwart me. Untie them!’
In a moment Matteo and I had pushed aside the men who held them, and cut their cords. Checco staggered towards the children, and they with a bound threw themselves into his arms. He clasped them to him passionately, and covered them with kisses. A shout of joy broke from the people, and many burst into tears.
Suddenly we saw a commotion on the castle walls. The Countess had fallen back, and men were pressing round her.
She had fainted.
XXVIII
WE went home rather trouble
d. Savello was walking alone, very angry, with a heavy frown between his eyes, refusing to speak.... Checco was silent and angry too, half blaming himself for what he had done, half glad, and Bartolomeo Moratini was by his side, talking to him. Matteo and I were behind with the children. Bartolomeo fell back and joined us.
‘I have been trying to persuade Checco to apologise to Savello, but he will not.’
‘Neither would I,’ said Matteo.
‘If they quarrel, it will be the worse for the town.’
‘If I were Checco, I would say that the town might go to the devil, but I would not apologise to that damned priest.’
When we reached the Palazzo Orsi a servant came out to meet us, and told Checco that a messenger was waiting with important news. Checco turned to Savello, and said gloomily, —
‘Will you come? It may need some consultation.’
The protonotary did not answer, but walked sulkily into the house. After a few minutes, Checco came to us, and said, —
‘The Duke of Milan is marching against Forli with five thousand men.’
No one spoke, but the expression on the protonotary’s face grew darker.
‘It is fortunate we have preserved the children,’ said Bartolomeo. ‘They will be more useful to us alive than dead.’
Savello looked at him; and then, as if trying to mend the breach, but rather against his will, said ungraciously, —
‘Perhaps you were right, Checco, in what you did. I did not see at the moment the political wisdom of your act.’
He could not help the sneer. Checco flushed a little, but on a look from Bartolomeo answered, —
Delphi Collected Works of W. Somerset Maugham (Illustrated) Page 27