Don Tarquinio: A Kataleptic Phantasmatic Romance (Valancourt eClassics) (7 page)

XI

We
iij,
o Prospero, fetched our breath faster; and our eyes dilated, but, speaking no word, we listened.

Cesare continued, saying:

“Now these terms are not what the Keltic monkey wanted: but they are the best which he can get. Being a fool, never constant to a single idea, he hath determined to hasten southward, and to conquer Naples on his own initiative: having persuaded himself that, if he could return some day with the crowns of Naples and the rest in his hand, the Father of princes and kings would not refuse to put them on his head. So the treaty hath been signed. And, touching the matter of Sultán Jam, Our fellow-hostage, thou shalt suppose that, since the Grand Turk hath ceased to pay, he is but a burthen on our Lord the Paparch. Also thou shalt suppose that it mattereth not a jot in whose ward he is, so long as that warden be Christian. Wherefore the magnificent Alexander most sagaciously will shift him on to the shoulders of the Christian King, whence he can be reclaimed at any time by a threat of the Dirae.
[1]
So much for Sultán Jam.”

The speaker thrust out the protruded middle finger of his ringed right hand; and continued, saying:

“But We also are an hostage; and, after the mass of dawn, We ride in the train of the Christian King.”

My bowels began to beat like armourers’ hammers. My lips retired, and left my teeth bare. I drew breath through the last, softly whistling: but as yet I knew not the true cause of mine emotions. The words which I had heard were terrible. Very great affairs were afoot: yet it did not seem that they concerned me. I was only an unnoted prince, profoundly but inexplicably agitated, with my back against an ivory door.

Gioffredo left the cardinals on the cushions, with a snort of incredulity, or despair, or disgust; and came and threw his arm around my neck, nestling against me.

But the Cardinal of Valencia continued, saying:

“Long speeches are better than short ones.
[2]
They give understanding, without which no action of great import can be accomplished. Dost thou admit the validity of my credentials, o Cardinal of Ferrara?”

Ippolito again offered his ear to be touched by the gigantic ring; and, standing, he asseverated:

“We are the son and servant of our Lord the Paparch, and of The Most Respectable Worship of thee speaking to Us in His name. In the words of Plato, immortal, beaming on all things, All Our money is at thy service.
[3]

But now Cesare seemed to fall into a muse, yawning, playing with our impatience as the tawny tiger at our castle of Deira used to play with goats and deer.

Gioffredo left me; and went nearer, lying on the black carpet, supporting his chin on his hands, widely stretching his legs.

Ippolito sat intent, erect, on the black cushions.

I stood transfixed, staring at that queer fateful Cardinal of Valencia, who could afford to play when
iiij
hours would see him an hostage and a prisoner in an enemy’s camp. Very strange it is to say, but I will tell thee, o Prospero, that, though there were
iiij
able-bodied lusty adolescents at that moment in that secret chamber, nevertheless the minds of
iij
of them were in complete abeyance; and only the mind of the fourth predominated. Wherefore we
iij
had naught to do but to listen to the mind of the Cardinal of Valencia, who at length resumed his discourse, saying:

“This ring is one of a score, which have been journeying round Christendom, on the hands of paparchal ablegates, to the Elect-Emperor Maximilian Always August, to the Catholic King
[4]
and Queen Don Hernando and Do
ñ
a Isabella, to the Sacred King
[5]
Henry of the Anglicans, to the Majesties and Tranquillities and Valvasours and Supernities and Celsitudes and Magnificencies and Sublimities and Highnesses and Mightinesses and Splendours and Potencies of the Empire and Portugal and Poland and Hungary and Naples and Milan and Ferrara and Sabaudia and Genoa and Venice and Fiorenza and Mantua and Parma and Padua and Piacenza.”

I am unable to tell thee, o Prospero, why I refrained from roaring. But I perceived that this most feline cardinal would tell his tale in his own way and in none other. It pleased him to dally with us, watching the surging of our emotions. But anon, being satisfied, he struck with the swift talons of his stratagem, saying:

“Our Lord the Paparch is by no means at the end of His resources; and let no man think the contrary.
[6]
Once let Him deliver Himself from the Christian King, once let Him rid Peter’s Patrimony of that pestiferous monkey, and the Holy Roman Empire, Spain, the Italian kingdoms and duchies and republics, Christendom, will league with Alexander against Gaul. In which galley We Ourself are to hold the rudder. To get the Christian King away from the City, the Sultán Jam was conducted to his camp an hour ago. When We leave this palace, We also will join the Keltic army, exposing Our life to the chances of fate.”
[7]

Gioffredo burst in with an oath and an offer.

Cesare silenced him; and continued, saying:

“No, Gioffredo: We will go alone. But now, o Cardinal of Ferrara, lend Us both thine ears. After the dawn-mass, We ride from the City, southward by the Appian Way toward the kingdom of Naples. So Our spies have brought news. Three hours later, We reach Velletri, beyond the frontier: where the Christian King intendeth himself to dine and sleep.”

Ippolito rose, mightily towering, torvidly storming, saying:

“Hear Us now. The Most Respectable Worship of thee is the most valuable of all the Paparch’s lieges. The loss of thee will be like the chopping off of Alexander’s right hand. Wherefore, if it be really and truly necessary for thee to leave the City as thou sayst, let thy going be but a feint. We have here
ccc
armed barbarians to serve thee, and the trained forces of Ferrara at call. We Ourself are as strong as any man; and, with a mace, a mace of tempered steel, and Our Arabian stallion between these thighs, We, even We, will be at Velletri for Thy Worship’s rescue.”

Gioffredo jumped up; and chattered, saying:

“Let Us go in thy stead, o Valencia. Are We not Alexander’s son? Do We not command a troop? Is not Our wife a princess of Aragon of Naples? If there be question of ransom, are We not worth as much as thou?”

But I still maintained phrenetic silence, keen, alert, strenuously desiring to do something, not knowing what to do.

Cesare waved his hand in a furry manner, saying:

“We will not have valorously violent rescues. None in the City may be known as conniving at Our escape: that would insure the Christian King’s return. This is an affair for the head, not for massive limbs. A cunning sage is here more precious than a palatine, o heraklean Ippolito. And as for thee, Gioffredo, know that there is no time in which to change Our plans. The action already is begun. The obligation is made; and cannot be evaded. But it may be annulled. If it is to be annulled, that must be done in such a way that the Christian King will not be able to prove complicity on the part of any Roman. Our Lord the Paparch must not be found out participating in conspiracy. We, His servants, must combine the columbine manner of doves with the serpentine actions of snakes. Wherefore, what is to be done must be done by others, beyond Roman territory, and (to all seeming) quite spontaneously.”

It was clear that we were expected only to listen, not to advise. We were not a council: but merely pupils, in the presence of a master, who was unfolding schemes already cut and dried. We composed our bodies; and our minds attended. Cesare continued, saying:

“That blear-eyed ape of Gaul must be pinned in the kingdom of Naples as vermin is pinned in a trap. His teeth and talons must be drawn there. His army never again must return to Gaul. It must be annihilated in Italy. Wherefore, to lead the said Christian King into this trap, We Ourself will be the bait. We will go with him beyond the Roman frontier. At Velletri, We will halt with him, during the heat of the day. And, from Velletri, We will escape; and return to the City, promptly assuming direction of the league against Gaul.”

XII

Ippolito said:

“We admire the plan, but know not how an escape can be effected under such conditions.”

To whom Cesare responded, saying:

“Know that the Borgia of Velletri, though little insignificant people, are of the same origin as the Roman Borgia: but they have been established in Italy many gliding lustrums longer. Know also that the Regent of Velletri hath a son, by name Pietro Gregorio Borgia, an adolescent of parts, very anxious for a career, very friendly to Ourself, and of equal age with and similar appearance to Us. A messenger instantly must be sent to the said Pietrogorio: who knoweth that he can make his own fortune by caring for Ours. Wherefore, o Cardinal of Ferrara, seeing that the fame of thy collection of barbaric athletes hath come to the ears of our Lord the Paparch, thou art commanded, by thine obedience to the bearer of this ring thou art commanded, to produce a swift runner here and now.”

I think that Ippolito was dazzled, at the moment, by so distinct a recognition of his exquisite connoisseurship of physique: for he sat there smiling and blinking his eyes while one might say a paternoster.

Cesare closely regarded him, until his countenance resumed its normal gravity, shewing that the intellect within was operating; and then he turned away, drawing Gioffredo on to his knees, feeding him with comfits from the table.

But Ippolito approached me where I stood rigid by the door; and would have consulted me, naming his runners one by one, Liparo, Hygropyrrho, Bueselvatico, Fantedifiume, Teres, Lo Skytho, Lo Skoto, the sleek one, the supple redhead, the wild bull, the servant of the sea, the smooth-fleshed one, the Skythian, the Skot, demanding my judgment of each.

But I could not think of anything saving the great good fortune of Pietrogorio, my stars being malignant. I envied and hated him as much as possible; and I wished to occupy his place. There came before mine eyes a phantasm of my maid, as she stood before me at Vatican, with her dear brows so finely lifted and her sweet lips so rapturously trembling, pitying me and urging me. Yet, here I was, stone-still, unable to move, for I knew neither whither nor how.

Ippolito looked at me with inquiry. I vacantly returned his gaze. And anon, having led me aside, he opened the door.

The wedge of Numidians, basaltine, gigantic, turned to face him, making a path for him. A vermilion page advanced, impertinently bending to the ground. That one had the form of a young Hyakinthos, and the face of a beautiful white fiend framed in a web of buttercup-coloured hair. Ippolito commanded him to summon the chief chamberlain.

The page’s parthenean voice shrilled through the outer antechambers.

The chief chamberlain trotted toward us, bustling and genuflecting. To whom Ippolito delivered a mandate, saying:

“Lo Skoto, in secret.”

The chief chamberlain fled. In flying, he swept before him all the pages and gentlemen until the door of the private stairs was passed, driving them out of sight and hearing, leaving only those mute eunuchs of the Numidian guard. Anon, he returned accompanied by a half-savage runner, a lanky, stone-deaf youth of the age of
xviiij
years bought out of the horrible and ultimate Britains. This animal was pushed into the secret chamber; and the door again was shut.

I shall describe this singular barbarian, o Prospero, who was of astonishing leanness, stepping like a prancing horse, and very archaic as to his aspect. He was clad in an oblong cloth, chequered in brown and green and yellow. The lower quarter of the said cloth was belted in folds round his waist. The upper three-quarters were folded together lengthways, and passed upward, behind his back, over his left shoulder and breast; and the end was tucked into the front of the right side of his belt.
[1]
A goat-skin pouch
[2]
depended from the fore-part of the said belt. All the rest of him was uncovered. His arms were very long and very thin. His breast was enormous. His long legs also were very lean, but round and sinewy. His feet were horny. His heavy head was pear-shaped: the brow, white: the cheeks and nose and pointed jaw, thickly freckled: the hair, a nasty light mud-coloured brown knot on the crown; and the steel-coloured eyes awkwardly wavered behind small slits, unlashed, sly. His stench was abominable.

The Cardinal of Valencia sniffed at the perfumed amber ball which was chained to his left wrist; and, having examined Lo Skoto’s points in the way which one useth for horses, he appeared to be satisfied. So he came to us sitting on the cushions; and demanded of Ippolito that a mage should be summoned, who could cause the runner to sleep instantly and heavily during a half-hour without impeding his speed thereafter.

Ippolito went into the antechamber, commanding the service of Messer Nerone Diotisalvi, the mage who tolerated natural death by strangling after the conclave which elected the Piccolhuomini.
[3]
But, to occupy the time which preceded the arrival of this one, Cesare took writing materials; and wrote this letter:

“
To Our well-beloved, Don Pietro Gregorio Borgia of Velletri.

“
These with speed
,
speed
,
speed
[4]

“
Our Lord the Paparch suddenly sendeth Us as hostage with the Christian King
,
leaving Us no opportunity of attending to Our proper affairs
.
Wherefore thou art to know that the bearer of these letters is an unruly slave
,
who (if We remained here) should tolerate not more than one hour of Our private pillory
,
distended as to arms and legs
,
not stringently enough to harm
,
but stringently enough
,
with divers apt and commodious actions on the flesh of his bare back. For which cause
,
O well-beloved Pietrogorio
,
by the affection which thou dost nourish for Us, thy trusty kinsman
,
We lay it upon thee to treat our said slave conveniently as aforesaid
,
with all other order known to thy piety
,
that he may have amended his said naughty ways before Our return. And so earn Our gratitude.

“
C. CAR
^AL
DE VALENCIA
.”

When we were permitted to peruse the screed, Gioffredo denounced it as nonsense. Ippolito uttered the opinion that it meant what it did not say. But I, being perplexed and angry, gave favour to my tongue.

Cesare, having guffawed at our stolidity, said:

“Be it known unto these princes that Our use is to keep, in every city, at least one adolescent on whom We may depend in need. Such an one in Velletri is Pietrogorio, prepared for any emergency, prompt to serve; and he will know what ought to be done. Furthermore, if the Kelts, or Colonna, or Orsini, or Savelli, or Dellarovere, or Cajetani, or any other bandits, shall catch the runner of such a message as this, having read it, will they not rather most hilariously hasten him on to his whipping?”

We
iij
laughed, conceding the point.

Messer Nerone presently entered, indulging himself in a phrenetic spasm of obeisances, chirruping like a slow tomtit. He was antique, humpty-backed. He spoke always in monotone, using a high shrill scream with most exasperating deliberation.

At whom Ippolito rushed, explaining what was to be done. We others stuffed our kerchieves in our nostrils, standing laughing near Lo Skoto, anxious to see the doing.

But the physician forthwith crossed the room to the table where the wine was and the water, prattling of the virtues of belladonna and stramonium. There, standing with his back to Lo Skoto and having taken
ij
little silver pots from his burse, he put a pinch from each into a cup of wine. This cup he put on a salver with another similar cup which he filled with pure water; and so he brought them both to the runner.

As this was being done, the
ij
cardinals and Gioffredo held a parley on the cushions: but I moved toward the window, whence I watched all, unseen, breathing cleaner air.

Messer Nerone offered the water to the runner. Lo Skoto reluctantly sipped it, longingly leering at the wine. The mage, having pretended to assure himself that no one was observing, simulated a sudden access of liberality; and offered the wine instead. It was done most admirably, with absolute art.

Lo Skoto gulched down the infected potion, stroking himself, vacuously grinning.

The mage replaced the salver with the cups on the ivory table. The Cardinal of Valencia took the
ij
little silver pots from him, and pouched them: giving him the jewel with its slight chains from the back of his own hand, and putting him outside the ivory door in the antechamber among the Numidians with a word of dismissal.

As he went, I touched his hump for luck; for it seemed that I needed all the aids which fortune had in store, my stars being most malignant. We heard the shrill whining of his voice dying away as he was escorted beyond the antechambers.

The door having been shut, we continued to entertain ourselves, paying no attention to the drugged runner, except with the corners of our eyes.

But I was staring at the innumerable lights of the waxen torches, reflected in endless vistas in the polished ivory of the circular walls and the dome of the roof, until mine eyes were dazzled by the sheen. And I chafed: being in that agony of bewilderment when the whole world seems to whirl round, near, very near, but just out of reach. For nothing is more exasperating than to find oneself still and alone, when everything else is in myriads violently moving, eluding one’s grasp.

Anon, the runner suddenly started as though a phantom had touched him unawares. He cast suspicious glances round him: but we
iiij
were in the middle of the chamber, while he was alone by the door. We stood up, openly looking at him as though we were astounded at his audacity: for, in starting, he had knocked down the double-cross, golden, which leaned against the pedestal of the ivory faun near him, nor did he attempt to replace it. Indeed, his eyes began to glare like those of one who unadvisedly had looked upon a cluster of hobgoblins. His knees also began to bend like those of one pressed downward by an incubus, gently, irresistibly. Anon he became prone on the black carpet.

Having approached him, Cesare opened one of his eyes with thumb and index-finger. Naught but white was seen. Having pinched together
iij
barleycorns’ length of the freckled flesh of the neck, the said cardinal transfixed the same with a needle-point from Ippolito’s hand-case. But the sleeper soundly slept.

Cesare returned to the black cushions; and seated himself by side of Ippolito, saying:

“Let Us have the skin of this barbarian’s back.”

Gioffredo assisted me. We left the runner in possession of nothing but himself. He was very heavy and inert; and we pulled him about rather roughly. Anon, having dragged him to the feet of the cardinals, we laid him out on the black carpet, limp as a freshly-made cadaver, a lean long form, huge of loin, the breast deeply arched, puny and narrow of shoulder and arm. The tan of the sinuous legs faded at the middle of the thighs: thence, to the ribs on the right side and to the shoulder on the left side, there was dazzling whiteness. Having inspected him, we turned him downward; and left him, eagerly fixing our gaze on the Cardinal of Valencia.

That purpled person produced from his burse a tiny crystal vial containing a flesh-coloured liquid, viscous and opaque as cream, with a little brush of very fine hogs bristles. Having unstopped the vial, he gave it into Ippolito’s ready hand; and dipped the brush. We became conscious of a certain f
œ
tor, mysterious, mephitic.

Cesare said:

“Know that ye are savouring a solution in spirit of the juice of an Indian fig,
[5]
which We took from Messer Leone Abrabanel of Naples. Know also that We habitually bereave mages of their drugs when We have seen the method of using and the effect of the same: for a prince very often hath need of such matters.”

Mark well, o Prospero, those words of wisdom.

Thus he spoke: but we signified assent with our eyebrows very intently watching his actions. He began to write with the brush upon the runner’s back.

But a terrific catastrophe instantly happened.

For, at the first touch of the said brush on the top of the left shoulder-blade, the malignance of his stars caused the sleeper to think fit to move his head, and to attempt to rise. Immense confusion instantly invaded the secret chamber.

Cesare sprang up, vociferating maledictions. Ippolito stopped the vial; and pouched it, preparing himself to rebut accusations of treachery. Gioffredo danced up and down like a cat who inopportunely hath stepped on an oven.

Lo Skoto with a bound was on his feet, phrenetic with fear, capering hither and thither, babbling in an unknown savage jargon. Upon whom I launched myself like a flash of white thunder.