The Making of a Saint

by W. Somerset Maugham

  XXXVIII

  One does not really feel much grief at other people's sorrows; onetries, and puts on a melancholy face--thinking oneself brutal for notcaring more, but one cannot; and it is better, for if one grieved toodeeply at other people's tears life would be unendurable; and every manhas sufficient sorrows of his own without taking to heart hisneighbour's. The explanation of all this is that three days after myreturn to Citta di Castello I was married to Giulia.

  Now I remember nothing more. I have a confused idea of great happiness;I lived in an intoxication, half fearing it was all a dream, enchantedwhen anything occurred to assure me it was true. But the details of ourlife I have forgotten; I remember I was happy. Is it not a curious ironythat we should recall our miseries with such plainness, and that ourhappiness should pass over us so indistinctly, that when it has gone wecan scarcely realise that it ever existed? It is as though Fortune werejealous of the little happiness she has given us, and to revenge herselfblots it out of the memory, filling the mind with miseries past.

  But some things I recollect about others. I came across ErcolePiacentini and his wife Claudia. Castello being his native place, he hadgone there on the death of the Count; and now, although the Riarii wererestored to power, he remained, presumably to watch our movements andreport them at Forli. I inquired whom he was, and after some difficultydiscovered that he was the bastard of a Castello nobleman and thedaughter of a tradesman. I saw that he did not lie when he said he hadin his veins as good blood as I. Still I did not think him a verydesirable acquisition to the town, and as I was in some favour with thenew Lord I determined to procure his expulsion. Matteo proposed pickinga quarrel with him and killing him, but that was difficult, because thebold man had become singularly retiring, and it was almost impossible tomeet him. The change was so noticeable that we could not help thinkinghe had received special instructions from Forli; and we determined totake care.

  I invited the Moratini to live with me; but they preferred to take ahouse of their own. The old man, when I asked him for his daughter'shand, told me he wished no better son-in-law, and was very contented tosee his daughter again settled under a man's protection. Scipione andAlessandro were both most pleased, and they redoubled the affection theyhad felt for me before. It all made me extremely happy; for after mylong years of wandering I yearned very much for the love of others, andthe various affections that surrounded me soothed and comforted me. FromGiulia I could ask for nothing more, and I thought she really lovedme--of course, not as I loved her, for that would have been impossible;but I was happy. Sometimes I wondered perplexedly at the incident whichhad separated us, for I could understand nothing of it; but I put itaway from me, I did not want to understand, I wanted only to forget.

  Then there were Checco and Matteo. The Orsi family had bought a palacein Castello, and there they could have settled themselves happily enoughhad they not been driven on by an unextinguishable desire to regain whatthey had lost. Checco was rich even now, able to live as luxuriously asbefore, and in a little while he might have gained in Castello as muchpower as he had lost in Forli, for the young Vitelli had been singularlyattracted by him, and was already inclined to give trust to hiscounsels; but the wretched man was filled with sadness. All day histhoughts were in the town he loved so well, and now his love wasincreased tenfold.... Sometimes he would think of Forli before thetroubles, when he was living a peaceful life surrounded by his friends;and in mind, he wandered through the quiet streets, every house of whichhe knew. He would go from room to room in his palace, looking at thepictures, the statues, the armour; from the window at night he gazedupon the dark, silent town, with the houses rising like tall phantoms;in the morning a silver mist covered the earth, and as it rose left theair cool and fresh. But when his house appeared before him, a bare heapof ruins, with the rain beating down on the roofless stones, he wouldbury his face in his hands, and so remain during long hours of misery.Sometimes he would review the stirring events, which began with theattempted assassination of himself and ended with the ride out of thegate by the river in the cold open country beyond; and as they passedbefore him, he would wonder what he had done wrong, what he might havedone differently. But he could alter nothing; he saw no mistake otherthan of trusting the populace who vowed to follow him to death, and oftrusting the friends who promised to send him help. He had done hispart, and what had followed was impossible to foresee. Fortune wasagainst him and that was all....

  But he did not entirely give himself over to vain regrets; he had openedup communication with Forli, and through his spies had learnt that theCountess had imprisoned and put to death all those who had been in anyway connected with the rebellion, and that the town lay cowed,submissive as a whipped dog. And there was no hope for Checco fromwithin, for his open partisans had suffered terrible punishments, andthe others were few and timid. Then Checco turned his attention to therival states; but everywhere he received rebuffs, for the power of Milanovershadowed them all, and they dared nothing while the Duke Lodovicowas almighty. 'Wait,' they said, 'till he has roused the jealousy of thegreater states of Florence and Venice, then will be your opportunity,and then will we willingly give you our help.' But Checco could notwait, every lost day seemed to him a year. He grew thin and haggard.Matteo tried to comfort him, but gradually Checco's troubles weighed onhim too; he lost his mirth and became as moody and silent as hiscousin. So passed a year, full of anxiety and heartburning for them,full of the sweetest happiness for me.

  One day Checco came to me and said,--

  'Filippo, you have been very good to me; now I want you to do me onemore favour, and that shall be the last I will ask you.'

  'What is it?'

  Then he expounded to me a scheme for interesting the Pope in hisaffairs. He knew how angry his Holiness had been, not only at the lossof the town, but also at the humiliation he had received through hislieutenant. There was a difficulty at the time between the Duke of Milanand Rome respecting certain rights of the former, and he did not thinkit unlikely that the Pope would be willing to break off negotiations andrecover his advantage by making a sudden attack on Forli. Caterina'styranny had become insupportable, and there was no doubt that at thesight of Checco leading the papal army they would open their gates andwelcome him as the Pope's representative.

  I did not see of what use I could be, and I was very unwilling to leavemy young wife. But Checco was so anxious that I should come, seeming tothink I should be of such assistance, that I felt it would be cruel torefuse. Moreover, I reckoned a month would bring me back to Castello,and if the parting was bitter, how sweet would be the return! And I hadcertain business of my own in Rome, which I had delayed for monthsbecause I could not bear the thought of separation from Giulia. So Idecided to go.

  A few days later we were riding towards Rome. I was sad, for it was thefirst time I had left my wife since our marriage, and the parting hadbeen even more painful than I expected. A thousand times I had been onthe verge of changing my mind and saying I would not go; but I couldnot, for Checco's sake. I was also a little sad because I thought Giuliawas not so pained as I was, but then I chid myself for my folly. Iexpected too much. After all, it was only four short weeks, and she wasstill too great a child to feel very deeply. It is only when one is oldor has greatly suffered that one's emotions are really powerful.

  We reached Rome and set about soliciting an audience from the Pope. Icannot remember the countless interviews we had with minor officials,how we were driven from cardinal to cardinal, the hours we spent inante-rooms waiting for a few words from some great man. I used to get sotired that I could have dropped off to sleep standing, but Checco was sofull of eagerness that I had to accompany him from place to place. Themonth passed, and we had done nothing. I suggested going home, butChecco implored me to stay, assuring me that the business would befinished in a fortnight. I remained, and the negotiations dragged theirweary length through weeks and weeks. Now a ray of hope lightened ourstruggles, and Checco would become excited and cheerful; now
the hopewould be dashed to the ground, and Checco begin to despair. The monthhad drawn itself out into three, and I saw clearly enough that nothingwould come of our endeavours. The conferences with the Duke were stillgoing on, each party watching the other, trying by means of untruth anddeceit and bribery to gain the advantage. The King of Naples was broughtin; Florence and Venice began to send ambassadors to and fro, and no oneknew what would be the result of it all.

  At last one day Checco came to me and threw himself on my bed.

  'It's no good,' he said, in a tone of despair. 'It is all up.'

  'I'm very sorry, Checco.'

  'You had better go home now. You can do nothing here. Why should I dragyou after me in my unhappiness?'

  'But you, Checco, if you can do no good, why will not you come too?'

  'I am better here than at Castello. Here I am at the centre of things,and I will take heart. War may break out any day, and then the Pope willbe more ready to listen to me.'

  I saw it was no use that I should stay, and I saw I could not persuadehim to come with me, so I packed up my things, and bidding him good-bye,started on the homeward journey.