XIII
I walked through the streets like a man who has received sentence ofdeath. My brain was whirling, and sometimes I stopped and pressed myhead with both hands to relieve the insupportable pressure. I could notrealise what had happened; I only knew it was terrible. I felt as if Iwere going mad; I could have killed myself. At last, getting home, Ithrew myself on my bed and tried to gather myself together. I cried outagainst that woman. I wished I had my fingers curling round her softwhite throat, that I could strangle the life out of her. Oh, I hatedher!
At last I fell asleep, and in that sweet forgetfulness enjoyed a littlepeace. When I woke I lay still for a moment without remembering what hadhappened; then suddenly it came back to me, and the blood flushed to myface as I thought of how I had humiliated myself to her. She must be ashard as stone, I said to myself, to see my misery and not take pity onme. She saw my tears and was not moved one jot. All the time I had beenpraying and beseeching, she had been as calm as a marble figure. Shemust have seen my agony and the passion of my love, and yet she wasabsolutely, absolutely indifferent. Oh, I despised her! I had known evenwhen I adored her madly that it was only my love which gave her thequalities I worshipped. I had seen she was ignorant and foolish, andcommonplace and vicious; but I did not care as long as I loved her andcould have her love in return. But when I thought of her so horriblyheartless, so uncaring to my unhappiness, I did more than hate her--Iutterly despised her. I despised myself for having loved her. I despisedmyself for loving her still....
I got up and went about my day's duties, trying to forget myself intheir performance. But still I brooded over my misery, and in my heart Icursed the woman. It was Nemesis, always Nemesis! In my folly I hadforgotten her; and yet I should have remembered that through my life allhappiness had been followed by all misery.... I had tried to ward offthe evil by sacrifice; I had rejoiced at the harm which befell me, butthe very rejoicing seemed to render the hurt of no avail, and with theinevitableness of fate, Nemesis had come and thrown me back into the oldunhappiness. But of late I had forgotten. What was Nemesis to me nowwhen I thought my happiness so great that it could not help but last? Itwas so robust and strong that I never thought of its cessation. I didnot even think the Gods were good to me at last. I had forgotten theGods; I thought of nothing but love and Giulia.
Matteo came asking me to go to the Palace with him and Checco, at theparticular desire of Girolamo, who wished to show them the progress ofthe decorations. I would not go. I wanted to be alone and think.
But my thoughts maddened me. Over and over again I repeated every wordof the terrible quarrel, and more than ever I was filled with horror forher cold cruelty. What right have these people to make us unhappy? Isthere not enough misery in the world already? Oh, it is brutal!
I could not bear myself; I regretted that I had not gone to the Palace.I detested this solitude.
The hours passed like years, and as my brain grew tired I sank into astate of sodden, passive misery.
At last they came back, and Matteo told me what had happened. I tried tolisten, to forget myself.... It appeared that the Count had beenextremely cordial. After talking to them of his house, and showing thebeautiful things he had collected to furnish it with, he took them toCaterina's apartments, where they found the Countess surrounded by herchildren. She had been very charming and gracious, even deigning tocompliment Matteo on his gallantry. How it interested me to know allthis! The children had run to Checco as soon as they saw him, dragginghim into their game. The others looked on while the Orsi playedgood-humouredly with the little boys, and Girolamo, laying his hand onChecco's shoulder, had remarked,--
'You see, dear friend, the children are determined that there should notbe enmity between us. And when the little ones love you so dearly, canyou think that I should hate you?'
And when they left he had accompanied them to the gates and been quiteaffectionate in his farewell.
At last the night came and I could shut myself up in my room. I thoughtwith a bitter smile that it was the hour at which I was used to go toGiulia. And now I should never go to Giulia again. My unhappiness wastoo great for wrath; I felt too utterly miserable to think of mygrievances, or of my contempt. I only felt broken-hearted. I could notkeep the tears back, and burying my face in the pillows, I cried myheart out. It was years and years since I had wept, not since I wasquite a boy, but this blow had taken from me all manliness, and I gavemyself over to my grief, passionately, shamelessly. I did not care thatI was weak; I had no respect for myself, or care for myself. The sobscame, one on the heels of another like waves, and the pain, as they toremy chest, relieved the anguish of my mind. Exhaustion came at last, andwith it sleep.
But I knew I could not hide the change in me, and Matteo soon noticedit.
'What is the matter with you, Filippo?' he asked. I blushed andhesitated.
'Nothing,' I answered at last.
'I thought you were unhappy.'
Our eyes met, but I could not stand his inquiring glance and lookeddown. He came to me, and sitting on the arm of my chair, put his hand onmy shoulder and said affectionately,--
'We're friends, aren't we, Filippo?'
'Yes,' I answered, smiling and taking his hand.
'Won't you trust me?'
After a pause I answered,--
'I should so much like to.' I felt as if indeed it would relieve me tobe able to confide in somebody, I wanted sympathy so badly.
He passed his hand gently over my hair.
I hesitated a little, but I could not help myself, and I told him thewhole story from beginning to end.
'Poverino!' he said, when I had finished; then, clenching his teeth,'She is a beast, that woman!'
'I ought to have taken your warning, Matteo, but I was a fool.'
'Who ever does take warning!' he answered, shrugging his shoulders. 'Howcould you be expected to believe me?'
'But I believe you now. I am horrified when I think of her vice andcruelty.'
'Ah, well, it is over now.'
'Quite! I hate her and despise her. Oh, I wish I could get her face toface and tell her what I think of her.'
I thought my talk with Matteo had relieved me, I thought the worst wasover; but at night melancholy came on me stronger than ever, and Igroaned as I threw myself on my bed. I felt so terribly alone in theworld.... I had no relation but a half-brother, a boy of twelve, whom Ihad hardly seen; and as I wandered through the land, an exile, I hadbeen continually assailed by the hateful demon of loneliness. Andsometimes in my solitude I had felt that I could kill myself. But whenI found I was in love with Giulia, I cried aloud with joy.... I threweverything to the winds, gathering myself up for the supreme effort ofpassion. All the storm and stress were passed; I was no longer alone,for I had someone to whom I could give my love. I was like the ship thatarrives in the harbour, and reefs her sails and clears her deck,settling down in the quietness of the waters.
And now all was over! Oh God, to think that my hopes should be shatteredin so short a time, that the ship should be so soon tossed about in thestorm, and the stars hidden by the clouds! And the past delight made thepresent darkness all the more bitter. I groaned. In my misery I uttereda prayer to God to help me. I could not think I should live henceforth.How could I go on existing with this aching void in my heart? I couldnot spend days and weeks and years always with this despair. It was tooterrible to last. My reason told me that time would remedy it; but timewas so long, and what misery must I go through before the wound washealed! And as I thought of what I had lost, my agony grew moreunbearable. It grew vivid, and I felt Giulia in my arms. I panted as Ipressed my lips against hers, and I said to her,--
'How could you!'
I buried my face in my hands, so as better to enjoy my dream. I smeltthe perfume of her breath; I felt on my face the light touch of herhair. But it would not last. I tried to seize the image and hold itback, but it vanished and left me broken-hearted....
I knew I did not hate her. I had pretended to, bu
t the words came fromthe mouth. In my heart I loved her still, more passionately than ever.What did I care if she was heartless and cruel and faithless andvicious! It was nothing to me as long as I could hold her in my arms andcover her with kisses. I did despise her; I knew her for what she was,but still I loved her insanely. Oh, if she would only come back to me! Iwould willingly forget everything and forgive her. Nay, I would ask herforgiveness and grovel before her, if she would only let me enjoy herlove again.
I would go back to her and fall on my knees, and pray her to bemerciful. Why should I suppose she had changed in the few days. I knewshe would treat me with the same indifference, and only feel a wonderingcontempt that I should so abase myself. It came like a blow in the face,the thought of her cold cruelty and her calmness. No, I vowed I wouldnever subject myself to that again. I felt myself blush at theremembrance of the humiliation. But perhaps she was sorry for what shehad done. I knew her pride would prevent her from coming or sending tome, and should I give her no opportunity? Perhaps, if we saw one anotherfor a few moments everything might be arranged, and I might be happyagain. An immense feeling of hope filled me. I thought I must be rightin my idea; she could not be so heartless as to have no regret. Howwillingly I would take her back! My heart leaped. But I dared not go toher house. I knew I should find her on the morrow at her father's, whowas going to give a banquet to some friends. I would speak to her there,casually, as if we were ordinary acquaintances; and then at the firstsign of yielding on her part, even if I saw but a tinge of regret in hereyes, I would burst out. I was happy in my plan, and I went to sleepwith the name of Giulia on my lips and her image in my heart.
The Making of a Saint Page 14