Valperga (17 page)

"Messer Castruccio, methinks you are much a stranger to my
councils and board. Do you suppose that my father forgets your
services in his cause, or that he does not pray for an opportunity
of shewing his gratitude? Evil reports, I own, have gone abroad to
your disadvantage, and your absence from my palace might give some
colour to these; but I am not a suspicious man, and trust the
actions of my friends which speak in their favour, more readily
than the hearsay which traduces them. If any ill blood exists
between us, and I am the cause of it, I freely ask your pardon for
any offence I may have given you, and request, as the seal of our
reconciliation, that you would honour with your presence a poor
banquet I am to give to--night to the nobility of Lucca."

Castruccio was somewhat astounded by this speech, which was
concluded by the offer of his hand from the speaker. Castruccio
drew back, and replied; "My poor services, my lord, were
offered to my country; from her I hope for gratitude, from your
father I neither deserve nor expect this meed. It were as well
perhaps not to attempt to mix jarring elements; but, since you
offer hospitality, I will freely accept it; for, whatever cause of
alienation may exist between us, you are a knight and a soldier,
and I do not fear deceit."

Castruccio withdrew; and the certainty of revenge alone could
have quelled the deadly anger of Ranieri at the haughty and
supercilious treatment that he had received.

Before the hour for the banquet had arrived, Castruccio rode to
the castle of Valperga, and related the occurrence to Euthanasia.
She listened attentively, and then said: "There is some deep
plot in this; I know Neri della Faggiuola; he is at once cowardly,
artful, and cruel. Be on your guard; I would intreat you not to go
to this feast, but that, going with your followers, I do not see
what danger you can incur; but doubt not, that this, or any other
friendly overture that may follow, is only a snare in which it is
expected that you will entangle yourself."

"Fear not, dear girl; I am open-hearted with my
friends;--but I have been a soldier of fortune; and at such a
school I may well have learned to detect wiles more deep, and
politicians more cunning than Ranieri. Let him beware; this moon
which has just bent her bow among the clouds of sunset, will not be
two weeks old, when you may see this deep schemer take his solitary
way to Pisa, glad to escape from the vengeance that he so well
merits."

Castruccio attended the feast of Ranieri, accompanied by count
Fondi and Arrigo Guinigi. He had expected to find the rest of his
friends and partizans assembled there, since they had all received
invitations: but Ranieri had acted with the utmost caution; and, a
very short time before the hour fixed for the banquet, he had sent
messages to the friends of Castruccio, and under various pretexts,
had, unknown one to the other, employed them on different affairs
which he pretended to be of the greatest urgency. When therefore
Castruccio entered the banqueting hall, he found only the officers
of the German troop attached to the Faggiuola faction, some old men
who had retired from public affairs, and a few Guelph families who
Ranieri supposed would remain neuter on the present occasion.
Castruccio observed this, and felt that all was not right; yet not
for a moment did the expression of his physiognomy change, or his
frank demeanour betray any sign of suspicion. It was not then the
custom, as in the more barbarous society of France and England, to
attend peaceful meetings as if armed for mortal combat; and
Castruccio was unarmed, except with a small dagger, which as a
matter of caution he concealed about his person.

The repast was sumptuous; course succeeded course; and the most
delicate sweetmeats and richest wines invited the guests to a
prolongation of their pleasures. Castruccio was both from habit and
principle abstemious, and the quiet of the banquet was first
interrupted by a sarcasm of Ranieri, as he pointed to the quantity
of water which his guest mingled with his wine. The latter replied;
and his irony was the more keen from the reputation of cowardice
and luxury which his enemy bore. Ranieri grew pale; and, filling
his own cup with pure wine, he presented it to Castruccio, saying;
"Nay, Messere, before you depart, dishonour not my pledge, but
drink this cup of generous Cyprus, to the overthrow of the enemies
of Faggiuola."

These words were the signal agreed upon with his soldiers; they
suddenly entered, surrounded the other guests, and throwing
themselves upon Castruccio, endeavoured to secure him. Twice he
threw them off: and once he had nearly drawn his stiletto from his
bosom; but he was overpowered and manacled with heavy chains--yet,
standing thus impotent, his eagle-glance seemed to wither the soul
of Ranieri, who, unable to give voice to the irony with which he
had intended to load his victim, gave orders that he should be
carried to prison.

Ranieri then addressed his guests, telling them, that the
riotous behaviour of Castruccio the preceding week, and the murder
of one of his servants, were the just causes of his imprisonment.
He bade them not fear any danger to their own persons, unless they
should rashly attempt to disturb the due course of justice. Arrigo,
with all the warmth of youth, would have replied with bitter
reproaches; but count Fondi, making him a signal of silence, and
deigning only to cast on Ranieri a smile of contempt, retreated
with the youth from the violated board. Ranieri invited his guests
to continue their festivity, but in vain: they were silent and
confounded; one by one the Italians withdrew, and Ranieri was left
only with his officers who were chiefly Germans, and the remainder
of the evening was spent in that intemperate enjoyment of the
bottle, which the Italians held in wonder and contempt. Ranieri did
not wish to drown the voice of his conscience, for that was his
servant, and not his monitor; but his coward spirit failed, when he
reflected on his critical situation, and the number and
resoluteness of Castruccio's friends: wine inspired him with
boldness; and a riotous night succeeded and crowned a misspent
day.

No feelings could be in more perfect contrast one to the other,
than those with which the gaoler and his prisoner hailed the
morning of the ensuing day. Castruccio had slept soundly on the
pavement of his dungeon; and, though his limbs were weighted down
by chains, his spirit was light and tranquil; he trusted to his
friends, and he trusted to the intimate persuasion he felt, that
his star was not to stoop before that of the cowardly and
treacherous Ranieri. Looking at the clouds as they passed swiftly
across the sun borne along by an irresistible wind, he chaunted a
troubadour song of victory.

Ranieri awoke with those feelings of listless depression that
succeed to drunkenness; the idea that Castruccio was his prisoner
struck him with affright; and now, repenting that he had taken so
decided a measure, he sent for his favourite attendant, and bade
him go and reconnoitre the town, and endeavour to discover the
opinions and temper of the citizens. During the absence of this man
he was several times on the point of sending an order for the
instantaneous death of his prisoner; but his heart failed him: he
felt that he might be disobeyed, and that the mandate of death
might be the signal for the deliverance of Castruccio. Thus he
waited, irresolutely, but impatiently, till circumstances should
decide the course he was to pursue.

The report of his messenger was ill calculated to allay his
apprehensions. Knots of citizens stood in the streets and market-
place, who, with serious mien and angry fervour, talked over the
occurrence of the preceding evening. Some friend of Castruccio was
at the head of each of these, who incited the people to action,
and, ridiculing the cowardice, and reprobating the treachery and
cruelty of Ranieri, awakened in every heart love and reverence for
Castruccio, by the well deserved praises that he bestowed upon him.
The word Liberty seemed to be creeping among them and warming every
soul, while it struck a blight upon the sensations of Ranieri: he
dared not act, but sent a messenger to his father at Pisa,
recounting what he had done, and desiring his assistance in the
accomplishment of his revenge.

A few weeks before, Uguccione had caused Bonconti and his son,
two Pisan nobles, much loved and esteemed in that town, to be put
to death: he had before committed flagrant injustices and legal
murders in that city, and to these the people had submitted: but
Bonconti was a man of understanding and courage; the Pisans had
looked up to him as the instrument of their deliverance from the
tyrant; by his death this task seemed to devolve into their own
hands, and their sullen looks and whispered discontents shewed
plainly that they were about to right themselves. Uguccione sat
unsteadily on his seat of power; and his uneasiness, as is often
the case in minds untamed by humanity, begot in him a hasty
courage, and fierce rashness, that resolved not to yield to any
obstacle; he was a stag at bay, and the Pisans stood about him
watching some weak side on which they might commence their
attack.

At this moment the messenger of Ranieri arrived, relating the
seizure of Castruccio, and the fears of the governor.
"Fool!" cried Uguccione, "does he not know that the
members walk not without the head?"

So, without giving one moment to reflection, he hastily called
his faithful troop together, consisting of about four hundred men,
and, leaving Pisa, hastened at full gallop towards Lucca. The
Pisans dared not trust their good fortune, when they saw their
enemy and his adherents voluntarily desert their post, and deliver
a bloodless victory into their hands; before Uguccione had reached
the summit of Monte San Giuliano, which is, as Dante says, the
Perchè i Pisan veder Lucca non ponno, the cry of liberty, and death
to the tyrant, arose in the town; the multitude assailed the house
of Uguccione; some of his household fell; the rest fled; and the
crowd, now somewhat appeased, assembled to constitute as their
chief, a man of understanding and valour, who might bring under
discipline the furious passions of the injured Pisans.

Uguccione found Lucca in open revolt: he entered the town, and
at the head of his troop endeavoured to charge the mutinous
multitude. It was vain; firm barriers thrown across the streets
impeded the horses, and the tyrant was obliged to parley with the
heads of the revolters. They demanded Castruccio; and he was
brought forth chained, and delivered to them; his fetters were
knocked off, and, mounting a charger brought by one of his friends,
his manacles carried as a trophy before him, he was led in triumph
to his palace. The people almost worshipped him as he passed, and
the air rang with acclamations in his favour; a crowd of his
adherents, well armed, clustered about him, proud of their victory,
and proud of the chief whom they had delivered. His chains were
affixed to the tower of his palace, in commemoration of this sudden
change of fortune. Uguccione fled:--he did not wait to be expelled
by the furious populace; the news reached him of the revolt of
Pisa, and it struck him with a panic; he was accompanied by
Ranieri; and, quitting Lucca by the northern gate, they hastened
across the mountains to Lombardy, and in one day fell from the rank
of powerful chieftains, to be soldiers of fortune at the hire of
the first prince who might require their services.

Castruccio and his adherents assembled in his palace to
deliberate on the government they should choose; the multitude
assembled round, and demanded to behold their beloved
chief.--Castruccio shewed himself at the balcony, and was saluted
with one cry, as Lord of Lucca, and captain of the war against the
Florentines: his friends joined in the acclamation; but Castruccio,
who never allowed a momentary enthusiasm to obliterate the plan of
conduct that he had marked out for himself, made a sign for
silence, which was obeyed. He then addressed the people, and,
thanking them for their love and services, declared that he could
not alone support the government of his town, and, after many
modest observations, requested a companion in the weighty task. The
people acceded to his wishes, and the Cavaliere Pagano Quartezzano
was named as the sharer of his dignities and power under the
appellation of consul.

THE ill news had travelled fast; and Euthanasia knew of the
imprisonment of Castruccio the same evening that it had taken
place. Well acquainted with the cruel policy of the Faggiuola
family and in particular with the dastard ferocity of Ranieri, her
fears were wound up to an agonizing height: more unhappy than the
prisoner himself, she slept not, nor did she seek sleep; but her
thoughts were bent on the consideration of whether she were able in
any manner to assist her friend. She resolved at least to employ
all the influence her possessions and connections gave her, to
arrest the hand of the murderer.

Early in the morning young Guinigi arrived at the castle. If
Arrigo admired Castruccio, he adored Euthanasia; her sex and beauty
might well have a powerful effect on his youthful heart, and her
simplicity and purity were more calculated to influence his
inexperienced but active understanding, than the more studied
courtesies of Castruccio. Her pale cheek and heavy eyes indicated
the anxious thoughts that beset her; and Arrigo hastened to
tranquillize them. "Fear not," he said, "he shall
not, he cannot die. His friends watch over him; and Ranieri has by
this time learned, that he is more a prisoner among the guards in
his palace, than Castruccio chained in his dungeon."

He then detailed the plans of the Ghibeline party for the
deliverance of their chief; and, having somewhat calmed the
uneasiness of the countess, he returned with haste to his post at
Lucca.