XXII
My sleep was troubled, and when I woke the next morning the sun had onlyjust risen.
It was Saturday, the 14th of April 1488.
I went to my window and saw a cloudless sky, brilliantly yellow over inthe east, and elsewhere liquid and white, hardening gradually into blue.The rays came dancing into my room, and in them incessantly whirledcountless atoms of dust. Through the open window blew the spring wind,laden with the scents of the country, the blossoms of the fruit trees,the primroses and violets. I had never felt so young and strong andhealthy. What could one not do on such a day as this! I went intoMatteo's room, and found him sleeping as calmly as if this were anordinary day like any other.
'Rise, thou sluggard!' I cried.
In a few minutes we were both ready, and we went to Checco. We found himseated at a table polishing a dagger.
'Do you remember in Tacitus,' he said, smiling pleasantly, 'how the plotagainst Nero was discovered by one of the conspirators giving hisdagger to his freedman to sharpen? Whereupon the freedman becamesuspicious, and warned the Emperor.'
'The philosophers tell us to rise on the mistakes of others,' I remarkedin the same tone.
'One reason for my affection towards you, Filippo,' he answered, 'isthat you have nice moral sentiments, and a pleasant moral way of lookingat things.'
He held out his dagger and looked at it. The blade was beautifullydamaskeened, the hilt bejewelled.
'Look,' he said, showing me the excellence of the steel, and pointingout the maker's name. Then, meditatively, 'I have been wondering whatsort of blow would be most effective if one wanted to kill a man.'
'You can get most force,' said Matteo, 'by bringing the dagger down fromabove your head--thus.'
'Yes; but then you may strike the ribs, in which case you would notseriously injure your friend.'
'You can hit him in the neck.'
'The space is too small, and the chin may get in the way. On the otherhand, a wound in the large vessels of that region is almost immediatelyfatal.'
'It is an interesting subject,' I said. 'My opinion is that the best ofall blows is an underhand one, ripping up the stomach.'
I took the dagger and showed him what I meant.
'There are no hindrances in the way of bones; it is simple and certainlyfatal.'
'Yes,' said Checco, 'but not immediately! My impression is that the bestway is between the shoulders. Then you strike from the back, and yourvictim can see no uplifted hand to warn him, and, if he is very quick,enable him to ward the blow.'
'It is largely a matter of taste,' I answered, shrugging my shoulders.'In these things a man has to judge for himself according to his ownidiosyncrasies.'
After a little more conversation I proposed to Matteo that we should goout to the market-place and see the people.
'Yes, do!' said Checco, 'and I will go and see my father.'
As we walked along, Matteo told me that Checco had tried to persuade hisfather to go away for a while, but that he had refused, as also had hiswife. I had seen old Orso d'Orsi once or twice; he was very weak anddecrepit; he never came downstairs, but stayed in his own rooms all dayby the fireside, playing with his grand-children. Checco was in thehabit of going to see him every day, morning and evening, but to therest of us it was as if he did not exist. Checco was complete master ofeverything.
The market-place was full of people. Booths were erected in rows, and onthe tables the peasant women had displayed their wares: vegetables andflowers, chickens, ducks and all kinds of domestic fowls, milk, butter,eggs; and other booths with meat and oil and candles. And the sellerswere a joyful crew, decked out with red and yellow handkerchiefs, greatchains of gold around their necks, and spotless headdresses; they werestanding behind their tables, with a scale on one hand and a littlebasin full of coppers on the other, crying out to one another,bargaining, shouting and joking, laughing, quarrelling. Then there werethe purchasers, who walked along looking at the goods, picking upthings and pinching them, smelling them, tasting them, examining themfrom every point of view. And the sellers of tokens and amulets andcharms passed through the crowd crying out their wares, elbowing,cursing when someone knocked against them. Gliding in and out, betweenpeople's legs, under the barrow wheels, behind the booths, werecountless urchins, chasing one another through the crowd unmindful ofkicks and cuffs, pouncing on any booth of which the proprietor hadturned his back, seizing the first thing they could lay hands on, andscampering off with all their might. And there was a conjurer with agaping crowd, a quack extracting teeth, a ballad singer. Everywhere wasnoise, and bustle, and life.
'One would not say on the first glance that these people were miserablyoppressed slaves,' I said maliciously.
'You must look beneath the surface,' replied Matteo, who had begun totake a very serious view of things in general. I used to tell him thathe would have a call some day and end up as a shaven monk.
'Let us amuse ourselves,' I said, taking Matteo by the arm, and dragginghim along in search of prey. We fixed on a seller of cheap jewellery--ahuge woman, with a treble chin and a red face dripping withperspiration. We felt quite sorry for her, and went to console her.
'It is a very cold day,' I remarked to her, whereupon she bulged out hercheeks and blew a blast that nearly carried me away.
She took up a necklace of beads and offered it to Matteo for his ladylove. We began to bargain, offering her just a little lower than sheasked, and then, as she showed signs of coming down, made her a finaloffer a little lower still. At last she seized a broom and attacked us,so that we had to fly precipitately.
I had never felt in such high spirits. I offered to race Matteo in everyway he liked--riding, running and walking--but he refused, brutallytelling me that I was frivolous. Then we went home. I found that Checcohad just been hearing mass, and he was as solemn and silent as ahangman. I went about lamenting that I could get no one to talk to me,and at last took refuge with the children, who permitted me to join intheir games, so that, at 'hide-and-seek' and 'blind man's buff,' Ithoroughly amused myself till dinner-time. We ate together, and I triednot to be silenced, talking the greatest nonsense I could think of; butthe others sat like owls and did not listen, so that I too began to feeldepressed....
The frowns of the others infected me, and the dark pictures that werebefore their eyes appeared to mine; my words failed me and we all threesat gloomily. I had started with an excellent appetite, but again theothers influenced me, and I could not eat. We toyed with our food,wishing the dinner over. I moved about restlessly, but Checco was quitestill, leaning his face on his hand, occasionally raising his eyes andfixing them on Matteo or me. One of the servants dropped some plates; weall started at the sound, and Checco uttered an oath; I had never heardhim swear before. He was so pale I wondered if he were nervous. I askedthe time: still two hours before we could start. How long would theytake to pass! I had been longing to finish dinner, so that I might getup and go away. I felt an urgent need for walking, but when the meal wasover a heaviness came to my legs and I could do nothing but sit and lookat the other two. Matteo filled his tankard and emptied it severaltimes, but after awhile, as he reached over for the wine, he sawChecco's eyes fixed on the flagon, with a frown on his forehead, and thecurious raising of one corner of the mouth, which was a sign he wasdispleased. Matteo withdrew his hand and pushed his mug away; it rolledover and fell on the floor. We heard the church bell strike the hour; itwas three o'clock. Would it never be time! We sat on and on. At lastChecco rose and began walking up and down the room. He called for hischildren. They came, and he began talking to them in a husky voice, sothat they could scarcely understand him. Then, as if frightened ofhimself, he took them in his arms, one after the other, and kissed themconvulsively, passionately, as one kisses a woman; and he told them togo. He stifled a sob. We sat on and on. I counted the minutes. I hadnever lived so long before. It was awful....
At last!
It was half-past three; we got up and took our hats.
We followed him out of the house. I noticed the jewelled hilt of hisdagger, and every now and then I saw him put his hand to it to see thatit was really there. We passed along the streets, saluted by thepeople. A beggar stopped us, and Checco threw him a piece of gold.
'God bless you!' said the man.
And Checco thanked him fervently.
We walked along the narrow streets in the shade, but as we turned acorner the sun came full on our faces. Checco stopped a moment andopened his arms, as if to receive the sunbeams in his embrace, and,turning to us, with a smile, he said,--
'A good omen!'
A few more steps brought us to the piazza.
The Making of a Saint Page 23