 Chapter 10 Part 2 of The Betrothed On the morrow, Gertrude awoke with the image of the approaching examination before her eyes, and while she was considering if and how she could seize this most decisive opportunity to draw back, she was summoned by the Prince. Courage, my child, said he, until now you have behaved admirably, and it only remains today to crown the work. All that has been done hitherto has been done with your consent. If, in this interval, any doubts had arisen in your mind, any misgivings or youthful regrets, you ought to have expressed them. But at the point at which we have now arrived, it is no longer the time to play the child. The worthy man, who is coming to you this morning, will ask you a hundred questions about your election, and whether you go of your own good and why, and how, and what not besides. If you tantalize him in your replies, he will keep you under examination. I don't know how long. It would be an annoyance and a weariness to you, and it might produce a still more serious effort. After all, the public demonstrations that have been made, every little hesitation you may display will risk my honor, and may make people think that I have taken a momentary fancy of yours for a settled resolution, that I have rushed headlong into the business, that I have what not. In this case, I shall be reduced to the necessity of choosing between two painful alternatives, either to let the world form a derogatory judgment of my conduct, a course which I absolutely cannot take injustice to myself, or to reveal the true motive of your resolution, and, by here observing that Gertrude colored crimson, that her eyes became inflamed, and her face contracted like the petals of a flower in the sultry heat that precede the storm, he broke off this strain, and continued with a serene face. Come, come, all depends upon yourself, upon your judgment. I know that you are not deficient in it, and that you are not a child to go spoil a good undertaking just at the conclusion, but I must foresee and provide for all contingencies. Let us say no more about it, only let me feel assured that you are replying with frankness so as not to excite suspicion in the mind of this worthy man. Thus you, also, will be set at liberty the sooner, that after suggesting a few answers to the probable interrogations that would be put, he entered upon the usual topic of the pleasures and enjoyments prepared for Gertrude at the monastery, and contrived to detain her on this subject till a servant announced the arrival of the examiner. After a hasty repetition of the most important kins, he left his daughter alone with him, according to the usual custom. The good man came with a slight preconceived opinion that Gertrude had a strong desire for a cloister life because the prince had told him so when he went to request his attendance. It is true that the good priest, we knew well enough that mistrust was one of the most necessary virtues of his office, held as a maxim that he should be very slow in believing such protestations, and should be on his guard against preconceptions, but it seldom happens that the positive affirmations of a person of such authority and whatever matter do not give a bias to the mind of those who hear them after the usual salutations. Señora, city, I am coming to act the part of the timpter. I have come to excite doubts where your request expresses certainty, to place difficulties before your eyes, and to assure myself whether you have well considered them. Will you allow me to ask you some questions? Proceed, replied Gertrude. The worthy priest then began to question her in the usual prescribed forms. Do you feel in your heart a free, voluntary resolution to become a nun? Have no threatenings, no flatteries been resorted to you? Has no authority been made use of to persuade you to this step? Speak without reserve and with perfect sincerity to a man whose duty it is to ascertain your unbiased will, that he may prevent your being compelled by any exercise of force to take such a course. The true answer to such a demand rose up before Gertrude's mind with fearful distinctness, but to make that reply she must come to an explanation. She must disclose what she had been threatened with and relate a story. The unhappy girl shrink back in horror from such an idea and try to find some other reply, which would more speedily release her from this unpleasant interview. I wish to take the veil, said she, concealing her agitation. I wish to take the veil at my own desire, voluntarily. How long have you had this desire? Again demanded the good priest. I have always felt it, replied Gertrude, rendered after this first step more unscrupulous about speaking the truth. But what is the principal motive that induces you to become a nun? The good priest little knew what a terrible chord he was touching, and Gertrude had to make a great effort not to betrayed in her countenance the effect which these words produced on her mind as she replied, My motive is to serve God and to fly the pearls of the world. May there not have been some disgust, some excuse me, some caprice. There are times when a passing cause may make an impression that seems at the moment sure to be lasting. But afterwards, when the cause is removed and the mind calmed, then no no, replied Gertrude precipitately. The reason is exactly what I have told you, the vicar, rather to discharge his duty faithfully, then because he thought it necessary, persisted in his inquiries, but Gertrude was resolved to deceive him. Besides the horrors she felt at the thought of making him acquainted with her weakness, when he seemed so far from suspecting her of anything of the kind, the poor girl thought that though he could certainly easily prevent her taking the veil, yet that there was the end of his authority over her, or his power of protection, would once he had gone, she would be left alone with the prince, and of what she would then have to endure in that house. The worthy priest could know nothing, or even if he did, he could only pity her. The examiner was tired of questioning, before the unfortunate girl of deceiving him, and finding her replies invariably consistent, and having no reason to doubt their sincerity, he at last changed his tone, and said all he could to confirm her in her good resolution, and after congratulating her, he took his leave. Passing through one of the apartments, he met with the prince, who appeared to fall in with him accidentally, and congratulated him on the good dispositions his daughter had displayed. The prince had been waiting in a very weary some state of suspense, but on receiving this account he breathed more freely, and, for getting his usual gravity, he almost ran to Gertrude, and loaded her with commendations, caresses, and promises, with cordial satisfaction, and a tenderness of manner to a great degree sincere, such a strange medley is the human heart. We will not follow Gertrude in a continual round of sights and amusements, nor will we describe, either generally or particularly, the feelings of our mind during this period. It would be a history of sorrows and fluctuations, too monotonous, and too much resembling what we have already related. The beauty of the surrounding seats, the continual variety of objects, and the pleasant excursions in the open air, rendered the idea of the place where she, most shortly alight, for the last time, more odious to her than ever. Still more painful were the impressions made upon her by the assemblies and amusements of the city, the sight of a bride, in the more obvious and common sense of the word, aroused in her envy and anguish, to a degree almost intolerable, and sometimes the sight of some other individual made her feel as if to hear that title given to herself would be the height of felicity. There were even times when the pomp of palaces, the splendor of the ornaments, and the excitement and clamorous festivity of the conversation so infatuated her, and aroused in her such an ardent desire to lead a gay life, that she resolved to recant and to suffer anything rather than turn to the cold and death-like shade of the cloister. But all these resolutions vanished into air, on the calmer consideration of the difficulties of such a course, or on merely raising her eyes to the princess face. Sometimes, too, the thought that she must forever abandon these enjoyments made even this little taste of them bitter and worrisome to her, as the patient, suffering with thirst, eyes with vexation, and almost refuses with contempt, the spoonful of water the physician unwillingly allows him. In the meanwhile, the vicar of the nuns had dispatched the necessary attestation, and permission arrived to hold the conference for the election of Gertrude. The meeting was called, two-thirds of the secret votes, which were required by the regulations were given, as was to be expected, and Gertrude was accepted. She herself, wearied with this long struggle, begged for immediate admission into the monastery, and no one came forward to oppose such a request. She was therefore gratified in her wish, and after being pompously conducted to the monastery, she assumed the habit. After twelve months of novitiate, full of alternate regret and repentings, the time of public confession arrived. That is to say, the time when she must either utter a no, more strange, more unexpected, and more disgraceful than ever, or pronounce a yes, already so often repeated, she pronounced it, and became a nun forever. It is one of the peculiar and incommunicable properties of the Christian religion, that she can afford guidance and repose to all who, or in whatever exigence, have recourse to her. If there is a remedy for the past, she prescribes it, administers it, and lends light and energy to put it in force at whatever cost. If there is none, she teaches how to do that effectually, and in reality, which the world prescribes proverbially, make a virtue of necessity. She teaches how to continue with discretion, what is thoughtlessly undertaken. She inclines a mind to cleave steadfastly to what it was imposed upon it by authority, and imparts to a choice which, though rash at the time, is now irrevocable. All the sanctity, all the advisedness, and, let us say it boldly, all the cheerfulness of a lawful calling. Here is a path so constructed that, let a man approach it by what labyrinth of precipice he may, he sets himself from that moment to walk in it with security and readiness, and at once begins to draw towards a joyful end. By this means, Gertrude might have proved a holy and contended nun, however, she had become one, but instead of this, the unhappy girl struggled under the yoke, and thus felt it heavier and more galling. An incessant reoccurrence to her lost liberty, abhorrence of her present condition, and a wearisome clinging to her desires which could never be satisfied. These were the principal occupations of her mind. She recalled over and over again the bitterness of the past. Rearranged in her mind all the circumstances by which she had reached her present situation, and undid in thought a thousand times what she had done in act. She accused herself of want of spirit, and others of tyranny and perfidy, and, pined in secret, she idolized, and, at the same time, bewailed her beauty, deplored a youth destined to struggle in a prolonged martyrdom, and envied, at times, any woman in whatever rank with whatever requirements who could freely enjoy these gifts in the world. The sight of those nuns who had cooperated in bringing her hither was hateful to her. She remembered the arts and contrivances they had made use of, and repaid them with incivilities, caprices, and even with open reproaches. These they were obliged to bear in silence. For though the prince was willing enough to tyrannize over his daughter when he found it necessary to force her into the cloister, yet having once obtained his purpose, he would not so willingly allow others to assume authority over one of his family, and any little rumor that might have reached his ears would have been an occasion for their losing his protection, or perhaps, unfortunately, of changing a protector into an enemy. It would seem that she might have felt some kind of leaning towards those other sisters who had not lent a hand in this foul system of intrigue, and who, without having desired her for a companion, loved her as such, and, always good, busy, and cheerful, showed her by their example that here too it was possible not only to live, but to be happy. But these also were hateful to her for another reason. Their consistent piety and contentment seemed to cast a reproof upon her disquietude, and waywardness, so that she never suffered an opportunity to escape of deriding them behind their backs as bigots, or reviling them as hypocrites. Perhaps she would have been less subversed to them had she known, or guessed, that the few black balls found in their urn which decided her acceptance had been put there by these very sisters. She sometimes felt a little satisfaction in commanding, and being courted by those within the monastery, and visited most flatteringly by those without, and accomplishing some undertaking in extending her protection, and hearing herself styled the senora. But what consolations were these? The mind which feels their insufficiency would gladly at times add to them, and enjoy with them, the consolations of religion, yet the one cannot be obtained by renouncing the other as a shipwreck sailor who would cling to the plank which is to bring him safely to shore, must relinquish his hold on the unsubstantial seaweed which natural instinct had taught him to grasp. Shortly after taking the veil, Gertrude had been appointed teacher of the young people who attended the convent for education, and it may easily be imagined what would be their situation under such discipline. Her early companions had all left, but the passions called into exercise by them still remained, and in one way or the other the pupils were compelled to feel their full weight when she remembered that many of them were destined to that course of life of which she had lost every hope. She indulged against the poor children a feeling of rancor which almost amounted to a desire of vengeance, this feeling she manifested by keeping them under, irritating them, and appreciating in anticipation the pleasures which they one day hoped to enjoy. Anyone who had heard with what arrogant displeasure she rebuked them at such times for any little fault would have imagined her a woman of undisciplined and injudicious temper. On other occasions, the same hatred for the rules and discipline of the cloister was displayed in fits of temper entirely different. Then she not only supported the noisy diversions of her pupils but excited them, she would mingle in their games and make them more disorderly, and joining in their conversations would imperceptibly lead them far beyond their intended limits. If one of them happened to allude to the Lady Abes' love of gossiping, their teacher would imitate it at length and act like a scene in a comedy, would mimic the expression of one nun and the manners of another, and all these occasions would laugh immoderately, but her laughter came not from her heart. Thus she passed several years of her life with neither leisure nor opportunity to make any change until, to her misfortune, an occasion unhappily presented itself. Among other privileges and distinctions accorded to her as a compensation for her not being Abes' was the special grant of a bedchamber in a separate part of the monastery. This side of the building adjoined a house inhabited by a young man of professedly abandoned character, one of the many who, in those days by the help of their retinues and bravos, and by combinations with other villains, were enabled up to a certain point to set a defiance public force and the authority of laws. Our manuscript merely gives him the name of Egidio, this man having from a little window which overlooked the courtyard, singer who'd occasionally passing, or idly lording there, and a lured, rather than intimidated by the dangers and impiety of the act, venged one day to address her, the miserable girl replied. At first she experienced a lively but not a mixed satisfaction, into the painful void of her soul was infused a powerful and continual stimulus, a fresh principle as it were of vitality, but this enjoyment was like the restorative draught, which the ingenious cruelty of the ancients presented to a condemned criminal to strengthen him to bear the agonies of martyrdom. A great change at the same time was observable in her whole deportment. She became all at once more regular and tranquil, less bitter and sarcastic, and even showed herself friendly and affable, so that the sisters congratulated each other on the happy change. So far were they from imagining the real cause, and from understanding that this new virtue was nothing else than hypocrisy added to her former failings. This improvement, however, this external cleansing, so to speak, lasted but a short time, at least within his steadiness or consistency. She soon returned to her accustomed scorn and caprice, and renewed her implications, and railery against her cloister prison, expressed sometimes in language, hitherto unheard in that place and from those lips. Nevertheless, a season of repentance succeeded each outbreak and an endeavor to atone for it and wipe out its remembrance by additional courtesies and kindness. The sisters were obliged to bear all these vicissitudes as they best could, and attributed them to the wayward and fickle disposition of the Signora. For some time, no one seemed to think any longer about these matters, but one day the Signora, having had a dispute with a lay sister from some trifling irregularity, continued to insult her so long beyond her usual bounds that the sister, after having for some time gnawed the bit in silence, could no longer keep her patience, and throughout a hint that she knew something and would reveal it when an opportunity occurred. From that moment the Signora had no peace. It was not long after that, one morning, the sister was in vain expected at her usual employment. She was sought in her cell. She was called loudly by many voices, but there was no reply. She was hunted and sought for diligently, here and there, above, below, from the cellar to the roof, but she was nowhere to be found. And who knows what conjectures might have been made. If, in searching for her, it had not happened that a large hole was discovered in the garden wall, which induced everyone to think that she had made her escape fence. Messengers were immediately dispatched in various directions to overtake her and bring her back. Every inquiry was made in a surrounding country, but there was never the slightest information about her. Perhaps they might have known more of her fate, had they, instead of seeking at a distance, dug up the ground near at hand. After many expressions of surprise, because they never thought her a likely woman for such a deed, after many arguments they concluded that she must have fled to some very great distance. And because a sister happened once to say, she must certainly have taken refuge in Holland, it was ever after said and maintained in the monastery that she had fled to Holland. The Signora, however, did not seem to be of this opinion, not that she manifested any disbelief, or opposed the prevailing idea with her particular reasons. If she had any, certainly never were reasons better concealed. Now, was there anything from which she more willingly abstained than from alluding to this event, nor any matter in which she was less desirous to come to the bottom of the mystery? But the less she spoke of it, the more did it occupy her thoughts. How often during the day that the image of the ill-fated nun rush unbidden into her mind and fix itself there, not easily to be removed? How often did she long to see the real and living being before her, rather than have her always in her thoughts, rather than be day and night in the company of that empty, terrible, impassable form? How often would she gladly have listened to a real voice and borne her rebukes, whatever they might threaten, rather than be forever haunted in the depths of her mental ear by the imagery with springs of that same voice, and hear words to which it was useless to reply, repeated with a pertinacity, and an indefatigable perseverance of which no living being was ever capable? It was about a year after this event that Lucia was presented to the senora and had the interview with her which we have described. The senora multiplied her inquiries about Don Brorigo's persecution and had entered into particulars with a boldness, which must have appeared worse than novel to Lucia, who had never imagined that the curiosity of nuns could be exercised on such subjects. The opinions also which were mangled with these inquiries or which she allowed to appear were not less strange. She seemed almost to ridicule Lucia's great honor for the nobleman and asked whether he were deformed, that he excited so much fear and would have esteemed her retiring disposition almost irrational and absurd if she had not beforehand given the preference to Renzo, and on this choice too she multiplied questions which astonished the poor girl and put her to blush, perceiving however afterwards that she had given two free expression to her imagination. She tried to correct and interpret her language differently, but she could not divest Lucia's mind of a disagreeable wonder and confused dread. No sooner did the poor girl find herself alone with her mother than she opened her whole mind to her. But Agnes, being more experienced in a very few words quieted her doubts and solved the mystery. Don't be surprised, said she, when you know the world as well as I. You'll not think in anything very wonderful. Great people, some more, some less, some one way and some another, have all a little oddity. We must let them talk, particularly when we have need of them. We must pretend to be listening to them seriously as if they were saying very bright things. Didn't you hear how she silenced me? Almost as if I had uttered some great nonsense. I was not a bit surprised at all. They are all so, however, heaven be praised that she seems to have taken such a fancy to you and will really protect us. As to the rest, if you live my child and it falls to your lot to have anything more to do with gentlemen, you'll understand it, you'll understand it. A desire to oblige the Father Guardian, the pleasure of extending protection, the thought of the good opinions that would result from so charitable an exercise of that protection, a certain inclination for Lucia, added to a kind of relief she would feel in doing a kindness to an innocent creature and in assisting and comforting the oppressed, were the inducements which had already inclined the senora to take an interest in the fate of these two poor fugitives. In obedience to the others she gave and from regard to the anxiety she displayed, they were lodged in the apartments of the portraits, adjoining the cloister and treated as if they were admitted into the service of the monastery. Both mother and daughter congratulated themselves on having so soon found a secure and honorable asylum and would gladly have remained unknown by everyone. But this was not easy in a monastery, more especially when there was a man determined to get information about one of them and whose mind vexation at having been foiled and deceived was added to his former passions and desires. Leaving the two women then in their retreat, we were returned to this wretched palace while he was waiting for the result of his inquitus undertaking. End of Chapter 10, Part 2 Chapter 11, Part 1 of The Betrothed. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Charles McHugh. The Betrothed by Alessandro Manzoni. Chapter 11, Part 1. As a pack of hounds, after in vain tracking a hair, returned desponding to their master, with heads hung down and drooping tails, so on this disastrous night did the bravos return to the palace of Don Rodrigo. He was listlessly pacing to and fro, in an unoccupied room upstairs that overlooked the terrace. Now and then he would stop to listen or to peep through the chinks in the decayed window frames, full of impatience and not entirely free from disquietude. Not only for the doubtfulness of success, but also for the possible consequences of the enterprise, this being the boldest and most hazardous in which our valiant cavalier had ever engaged. He endeavored, however, to reassure himself with the thought of the precautions he had taken, that not a trace of the perpetrator should be left. As to suspicions, I care nothing for them. I should like to know who would be inclined to come hither, to ascertain if there be a young girl here or not. Let him dare to come the rash fool, and he shall be well received. Let the friar come, if he pleases. The old woman? She shall be off to Bergamo. Justice? Poo! Justice! The potista is neither a child nor a fool. And at Milan? Who will care for these people at Milan? Who will listen to them? Who knows even what they are? They are like lost people in the world. They haven't even a master. They belong to no one. Come, come, never fear. How Attilio will be silenced tomorrow. He shall see whether I am a man to talk and boast. And then, if any difficulty should ensue, what do I know? Any enemy who would seize this occasion, Attilio will be able to advise me. He is pledged to it for the honour of the whole family. But the idea on which he dwelt most, because he founded both a soother of his doubts and a nourisher of his predominating passion, was the thought of the flatteries and promises he would employ to gain over Lucia. She will be so terrified at finding herself here alone in the midst of these faces that, in trough, mine is the most human among them, that she will look to me, will throw herself upon her knees to pray, and if she prays, while indulging in these fine anticipations, he hears a footstep, goes to the window, opens it a little, and peeps through. It is they, and the litter. Where is the litter? Three, five, eight. They are all there. There's Griso too. The litter's not there. Griso shall give me an account of this. When they reached the house, Griso deposited his staff, cap, and pilgrims' habit in a corner of the ground floor apartment, and, as if carrying a burden, which no one at the moment envied him, ascertained to render his account to Don Rodrigo. He was waiting for him at the head of the stairs, and on his approaching, with the foolish and awkward air of a diluted villain, well, said, or rather vociferated, he, Senor Boster, Senor Capitan, Senor, leave it to me. It is hard, replied Griso, resting one foot on the top step. It is hard to be greeted with reproaches after having labored faithfully and endeavored to do one's duty at the risk of one's life. How is it gone? Let us hear. Let us hear, said Don Rodrigo, and, turning towards his room, Griso followed him, and briefly related how he had arranged what he had done, seen and not seen, heard, feared, and retrieved, relating it with that order, and that confusion, that dubiousness, and that astonishment, which must necessarily have together taken possession of his ideas. You are not to blame, and have done your best, said Don Rodrigo. You have done what you could, but if under this roof there be a spy, if there be, if I succeed in discovering him, and you may rest assured I'll discover him if he's here, I'll settle matters with him. I promise you, Griso, I'll pay him as he deserves. The same suspicion, Senor, replied he, has crossed my mind, and if it be true, and we discover a villain of this sort, my master should put it into my hands. One who has diverted himself by making me pass such a night as this, it is my business to pay him for it. However all things considered, it seems likely there may have been some other cross-purposes, which now we cannot fathom. Tomorrow, Senor, tomorrow we shall be in clear water. Do you think you have been recognized? Griso replied that he hoped not, and the conclusion of the interview was that Don Rodrigo ordered him to do three things next day, which he would have thought of well enough by himself. One was to dispatch two men, in good time in the morning, to the constable with the intimation which we have already noticed, two others to the old house to ramble about, and keep at a proper distance any loiterer who might happen to come there, and to conceal the litter from every eye till nightfall, when they would send to fetch it, since it would not do to excite suspicion by any further measures at present. And lastly, to go himself on a tour of discovery, and dispatch several others of the most dexterity and good sense on the same errand that he might learn something of the causes and issue of the confusion of the night. Having given these orders, Don Rodrigo retired to bed, leaving Griso to follow his example, bidding him good night and loading him with praises, through which appeared an evident desire to make some atonement, and in a manner to apologize for the precipitated haste with which he had reproached him on his arrival. Go take some rest, poor Griso, for thou must surely need it. Poor Griso, laboring hard all day, laboring hard half the night without counting the danger of falling into the hands of villains, or of having a price set upon thy head for the seizure of an honest woman, in addition to those already laid upon thee, and then to be received in this manner. But thus men often reward their fellows. Thou mightiest, nevertheless, see in this instance that sometimes people judge according to merit, and that matters are adjusted even in this world. Go rest awhile, for some day thou mayest be called upon to give another and more considerable proof of thy faithfulness. Next morning Griso was again surrounded with business on all hands when Don Rodrigo rose. This nobleman quickly sought Counteteliel, who, the moment he saw him approach, called out to him with a look and gesture of rarity, Saint Montetin. I have nothing to say, replied Don Rodrigo, as he drew near. I will pay the wager. But it is not this that vexes me most. I told you nothing about it, because I confess I thought to surprise you this morning. But stay, I will tell you all. That friar has a hand in this business, said his cousin, after having listened to the account with suspense and wonderment, and with more seriousness than could have been expected from a man of his temperament. I always thought that friar, with his dissembling and out-of-the-way answers, was a nave and a hypocrite. And you never opened yourself to me. You never told me plainly what happened to entertain you the other day. Don Rodrigo related the conversation. And did you submit to that, exclaimed Counteteliel? Did you let him go away as he came? Would you have me draw upon myself all the cappuccines of Italy? I don't know, said Attilio, whether I should have remembered at that moment, that there was another cappuccine in the world except this daring nave. But surely, even under the rules of prudence, there must be some way of getting satisfaction, even on a cappuccine. We must manage to redouble civilities cleverly to the whole body. And then we can give a blow to one member with impunity. However, the fellow has escaped the punishment he best deserved, but I'll take him under my protection, and have the gratification of teaching him how to talk to gentlemen such as we are. Don't make matters worse for me. Trust me for once, and I'll serve you like a relation and a friend. What do you intend to do? What do you intend to do? I don't know yet, but rest assured I'll pay off the friar. I'll think about it, and my uncle the senior Count of the Privy Council will be the man to help me. Dear Uncle Count, how fine it is, when I can make a politician of his stamp do all my work for me. The day after tomorrow I shall be at Milan, and in one way or other the friar shall be rewarded. In the meanwhile breakfast was announced, which however made no interruption in the discussion of an affair of so much importance. Count Atilio talked about it freely, and though he took that side, which his friendship to his cousin and the honour of his name required, according to his ideas of friendship and honour, yet he could not help occasionally finding something to laugh at in the ill success of his relative and friend. But Don Rodrigo, who felt it was his own cause, and who had so signally failed when hoping quietly to strike a great blow, was agitated by stronger passions, and distracted by more vexatious thoughts. Fine talk, said he. These radicals will make in the neighbourhood. But what do I care? As to justice, I laugh at it. There is no proof against me, and even if there were, I should care for it just as little. The Constable was warned this morning to take good heed at the risk of his life, that he makes no deposition of what has happened. Nothing will follow from it, but gossiping, when carried to any length, is very annoying to me. It's quite enough that I have been bullied so unmercifully. You did quite rightly, replied Count Atilio. Your potista, an obstinate, empty-pated, prosing fellow that potista is nevertheless a gentleman, a man who knows his duty. And it is just when we have to do with such people, that we must take care not to bring them into difficulties. If that rascal of a Constable should make a deposition, the potista, however, well-intentioned, would be obliged. But you, interrupted Don Rodrigo with some warmth. You spoil all my affairs by contradicting him in everything, by silencing him and laughing at him on every occasion. Why cannot a potista be an obstinate fool, when at the same time he is a gentleman? Do you know, cousin, said Count Atilio, glancing towards him, a look of railery and surprise? Do you know that I begin to think you are half-afraid? In earnest you may rest assured that the potista—well, well! Didn't you yourself say that we must be careful? I did, and when it is a serious matter, I'll let you see that I am not a child. Do you know all that I have courage to do for you? I am ready to go in person to this senior potista, how proud he will be of the honour. And I am ready, moreover, to let him talk for half an hour about the Count Duke and the Spanish senior, the governor of the castle, and to give an ear to everything, even when he talks so mightily about these people. Then I will throw in a few words about my uncle, the senior count of the Privy Council, and you will see what effect these words, in the ear of the senior potista, will produce. After all, he has more need of our protection than you of his condescension. I will do my best, and will go to him and leave him better disposed towards you than ever. After these and a few similar words Count Atilio set off on his expedition, and Don Rodrigo remained awaiting with anxiety Griso's return. Towards dinner time he made his appearance and reported the success of his reconnoitering tour. The tumult of the preceding night had been so clamorous, the disappearance of three persons from a village was so strange an occurrence, that the inquiries, both from interest and curiosity would naturally be many, eager and persevering, and, on the other hand, those who knew something were too numerous to agree in maintaining silence on the matter. Perpetua could not set foot out of doors without being assailed by one or another to know what it was that had so alarmed her master. And she herself, reviewing and comparing all the circumstances of the case, and perceiving how she had been imposed upon by Agnesi, felt so much indignation at the act of perfidy, that she was ever ready to give vent to her feelings. Not that she complained to this or that person of the manner in which she was imposed upon, on this subject she did not breathe a syllable. But the trick played upon her, poor master, she could not altogether pass over in silence, especially as such a trick had been concerted and attempted by that gentle creature, that good youth and that worthy widow. Don Abendillo indeed might positively forbid her and earnestly entreat her to be silent, and she could easily enough reply that there was no need to urge upon her what was so clear and evident. But certain it is that such a secret in the poor woman's breast was very like new wine, in an old and badly hooped cask which ferments and bubbles and boils, and if it does not send the bung into the air works upon itself till it issues in froth and penetrates between the staves and oozes out in drops here and there, so that one can taste it and almost decide what kind of wine it is. Gervaisa, who could scarcely believe that for once he was better informed than his neighbors, who thought it no little glory to have been a share in such a scene of terror, and who fancied himself a man like the others, from having lent a hand in an enterprise that bore the appearance of criminality, was dying to make a boast of it. And though Tonio, who thought with some dread of the inquiries, the possible processes, and the account that would have to be rendered, gave him many injunctions with his finger upon his lips, yet it was not possible to silence every word. Even Tonio himself, after having been absent from home that night at an unusual hour and returning with an unusual step in air, and an excitement of mind that disposed him to candor. Even he could not dissimulate the matter with his wife, and she was not dumb. The person who talked least was Meniko, for no sooner had he related to his parents the history and the object of his expedition than it appeared to them so terrible a thing that their son had been employed in frustrating an undertaking of Don Rodrigo's, that they scarcely suffered the boy to finish his narration. They then gave him most strenuous and threatening orders to take good heed that he did not give the least hint of anything, and the next morning, not yet feeling sufficiently confident in him, they resolved to keep him shut up in the house for at least that day, and perhaps even longer. But what then? They themselves afterwards, in chatting with their neighbors, without wishing to show that they knew more than others, yet when they came to that mysterious point in the flight of the three fugitives, and the how and the why and the where added almost as a well-known thing that they had fled to Pescarenico. Thus the circumstance also was generally noise to broad. With all these scraps of information put together and compared as usual, and with the embellishments naturally attached to such relations, there were grounds for a story of more certainty and clearness than common, and such as might have contented the most criticizing mind. But the invasion of the bravos, an event too serious and notorious to be left out, and one on which nobody had any positive information, was what rendered this story dark and perplexing. The name of Don Rodrigo was whispered about, and so far all were agreed, but beyond everything was obscurity and dissension. Much was said about the two bravos who had been seen in the street towards evening, and of the other who had stood at the indoor. But what light could be drawn from this naked fact? The inquirerate of the landlord, who had been there the night before, but the landlord could not even remember that he had seen anybody that evening, and concluded his answer, as usual, with the remark that his inn was like a seaport. Above all, the pilgrim, seen by Stefano and Carlandrea, puzzled their heads and disarranged their conjectures, that pilgrim whom the robbers were murdering, and who had gone away with them, or whom they had carried off. What could he be doing? He was a good spirit, come to the aid of the women. He was the wicked spirit of a roguish pilgrim-imposter, who always came by night to join such companions, and perform such deeds, as he had been accustomed to when alive. He was a living and true pilgrim, whom they attempted to murder because he was preparing to arouse the village. He was, just see what they went so far as to conjecture, one of these very villains, disguised as a pilgrim. He was this, he was that, he was so many things, that all the sagacity and experience of griso would not have suffice to discover who he was, if he had been obliged to glean this part of the story from others. But as the reader knows, that which rendered it so perplexing to others was exactly the clearest point to him, and serving as a key to interpret the other notices, either gathered immediately by himself, or through the medium of his subordinate spies, it enabled him to lay before Don Rodrigo a report sufficiently clear and connected. Closeted with him, he told him of the blow attempted by the poor lovers, which naturally accounted for his finding the house empty, and the ringing of the bell, without which they would have been obliged to suspect traitors, as these two worthy men expressed it, in the house. He told him of the flight, and for this, too, it was easy to find more than one reason, the fear of the lovers on being taken in a fault, or some rumor of their invasion. When it was discovered, and the village roused, lastly he told him that they had gone to Pescarenico, but further than this his knowledge did not extend. Don Rodrigo was pleased to be assured that no one had betrayed him, and to find that no traces remained of his enterprise. But it was a light and passing pleasure. Fled together, cried he, together, and that rascally friar, that friar! The word burst forth hoarsely from his throat, and half smothered between his teeth. As he bit his nails with vexation, his countenance was as brutal as his passion. That friar shall answer for it. Grisso, I am not myself. I must know. I must find out. This night I must know where they are. I have no peace. To Pescarenico directly, to know, to see, to find, four crowns on the spot, and my protection, for ever. This night I must know, and that villain, that friar! Once more, Grisso was in the field. And in the evening of that same day he could impart to his worthy patron the desired information, and by this means. One of the greatest consolations of this world is friendship. And one of the pleasures of friendship is to have someone to whom we may entrust a secret. Now friends are not divided into pairs, as husband and wife. Everybody, generally speaking, has more than one. And this forms a chain of which no one can find the first link. When then a friend meets with an opportunity of depositing a secret in the breast of another, he in his turn seeks to share in the same pleasure. He isn't treated, to be sure, to say nothing to anybody, and such a condition, if taken in the strict sense of the words, would immediately cut short the chain of these gratifications. But general practice has determined that it only forbids the entrusting of a secret to everybody but one equally confidential friend, imposing upon him, of course, the same conditions. Thus from confidential friend to confidential friend the secret threads its way along this immense chain, until, at last, it reaches the ear of him or them whom the first speaker exactly intended it should never reach. However, it would, generally, have to be a long time on the way, if everybody had but two friends, the one who tells him and the one to whom he repeats it, with the injunction of silence. But some highly favored men there are, who reckon these blessings by the hundred, and when the secret comes into the hands of one of these, the circles multiply so rapidly that it is no longer possible to pursue them. Our author has been unable to certify through how many mouths the secret had passed, which Grisio was ordered to discover. But certainly it is that the good man who had escorted the women to Monza, returning in the morning, was the one to whom the secret had passed, and it is that the good man who had escorted the women to Monza, returning in his cart to Pescarranico towards evening, happened before reaching home, to light upon one of these trustworthy friends, to whom he related in confidence the good work he had just completed and its sequel. And it is equally certain that, two hours afterwards, Grisio was able to return to the palace and inform Don Rodrigo that Lucia and her mother had found refuge in a convent at Monza, and that Renzo had pursued his way to Milan. Don Rodrigo felt of malicious satisfaction on hearing of this separation and a revival of hope that he might at length accomplish his wicked designs. He spent great part of the night in meditating on his plans and arose early in the morning with two projects in his mind. The one determined upon, the other only roughly sketched out. The first was immediately to dispatch Grisio to Monza, to learn more particular tidings of Lucia, and to know what, if anything, he might attempt. He therefore instantly summoned this faithful servant, placed in his hands four crowns, again commanded him for the ability by which he had earned them, and gave him the order he had been premeditating. Senor said Grisio, feeling his way. What, haven't I spoken clearly? If you would send somebody, how? Most illustrious, Senor, I am ready to give my life for my master. It is my duty, but I know also you would not be willing unnecessarily to risk that of your dependence. Well, your illustrious lordship knows very well how many prices are already set upon my head. And here I am under the protection of your lordship. We are a party. The Senor Podesta is a friend of the family. The bailiffs bear me some respect, and I, too. It is a thing that does me little honour but to live quietly. I treat them as friends. In Milan your lordship's livery is known. But in Monza I am known there instead. And is your lordship aware that? I don't say it to make a boast of myself, that anyone who could hand me over to justice or deliver in my head would strike a great blow, a hundred crowns at once, and the privilege of liberating to Banditi. What, exclaimed Don Rodrigo with an oath, you showing yourself a vile cur that has scarcely courage to fly at the legs of his passerby, looking behind him for fear that they should shut the door upon him, and not daring to leave it four yards? I think, Senor Petrone, that I have given proof. Then, then, frankly replied Gracio, when thus brought to the point, then your lordship will be good enough to reckon, as if I had never spoken, heart of a line, legs of a hair, and I am ready to set off, and I didn't say you should go alone. Take with you two of the bravest, Lo Stregliato and Il Tiradrito. Go with a good heart and be our own Gracio. What, three faces like yours, quietly passing by, who do you think wouldn't be glad to let them pass? The bail of Satmanza must needs be weary of life to stake against it a hundred crowns in so hazard as a game. And besides, don't you think I am so utterly unknown there, that a servant of mine would be counted as nobody? After thus shaming Gracio a little, he proceeded to give him more ample and particular instructions. Gracio took his two companions and set off with a cheerful and hearty look. But cursing in the bottom of his heart. Monza and interdex and women and the fancy of patrons, he walked on like a wolf which, urged by hunger, his body emaciated, and the furrows of his ribs impressed upon his grey hide, descends from the mountains, where everything is covered with snow, proceeds suspiciously along the plain, stops from time to time with uplifted foot and waves his hairless tail, raises his nose and snuffs the faithless wind. If, per chance, it may bring him the scent of man or beast, erects his sharp ears and rolls around to sanguinary eyes, from which shine forth both eagerness for the prey and terror of pursuit. If the reader wishes to know whence I have got this fine line, it is taken from a small, unpublished work on crusaders and lombards, which will shortly be published and make a great stir, and I have borrowed it because it suited my purpose and told where I got it, that I might not take credit due to others. So let no one think at a plan of mine to proclaim that the author of this little book and I are like brothers and that I rummage at will among his manuscripts. The other project of Don Rodrigo's was the devising of some plan to prevent Renzo's again rejoining Lucia, or setting foot in that part of the country. He therefore resolved to spread a broad rumors of threats and snares, which coming to his hearing through some friend might deprive him of any wish to return to that neighborhood. He thought, however, that the surest way of doing this would be to procure his banishment by the state and to succeed in his project, he felt that the law would be more likely to answer his purpose than force. He could, for example, give a little coloring to the attempt made at the personage, painted as an aggressive and seditious act and by means of the doctor, signified to the Podesta that this was an opportunity of issuing an apprehension against Renzo. But our deliberator quickly perceived that it would not do for him to meddle in this infamous negotiation, and without pondering over it any longer, he resolved to open his mind to Dr. Aziza Garbugli. So far, that is, as was necessary to make him acquainted with his desire. There are so many edicts, thought Don Rodrigo, and the doctor is not a goose. He will be sure to find something to suit my purpose, some quarrel to pick with this rascally fellow of a weaver, otherwise he must give up his name. But how strangely matters are brought about in this world? While Don Rodrigo was thus fixing upon the doctor, as the man most able to serve him, another person, one that nobody would imagine, even Renzo himself, was laboring, so to say, with all his heart to serve him in a far more certain and expeditious way than any doctor could possibly have devised. I have often seen a child more active certainly than needs be, but at every moment giving earnest of becoming someday a brave man. I have often, I say, seen such a one busied towards evening in driving to cover a drove of little Indian pigs, which had been allowed all day to ramble about in a field or orchard. He would try to make them all enter the fold in a drove, but it was a labour in vain. One would strike off to the right, and while the little drover was running to bring him back into the herd, another or two or three would start off to the left in every direction, so that, after getting out of all patience, he at last adapted himself to their ways, first driving in those which were at nearest to the entrance, and then going to fetch the others one or two at a time as they happened to have strayed away. A similar game we are obliged to play with our characters. Having sheltered Lucia, we ran to Don Rodrigo, and now we must leave him to receive Renzo, who meets us in our way. After the mournful separation we have related, he proceeded from Monza towards Milan. In a state of mind our readers can easily imagine. To leave his own dwelling and what was worse, his native village, and what was worse still Lucia, to find himself on the high road without knowing where he was about to lay his head, and all on account of that villain. When this image presented itself to Renzo's mind, he would be quite swallowed up with rage and the desire of vengeance. But then he would recollect the prayer which he had joined in offering up with the good friar in the church at Pescara Nico, and repent of his anger. Then he would again be roused to indignation, but seeing an image in the wall, he would take off his hat and stop a moment to repeat a prayer, so that during this journey he had killed Don Rodrigo and raised him to life again at least 20 times. The road here was completely buried between two high banks, muddy, stony, furred with deep cart routes, which after a shower became perfect streams, and where these did not form a sufficient bed of water, the whole road was inundated and reduced to a pool, so as to be almost impassable. At such places, a steep footpath in the form of steps up the bank indicated that other passengers had made a track in the fields. Renzo mounted by one of these passes to the more elevated ground, and, looking around him, beheld the noble pile of the cathedral, towering alone above the plain, not as if standing in the midst of a city, but rather as though it rose from a desert. He paused, forgetful of all his sorrows, and contemplated thus at a distance that eight wonder of the world, of which he had heard so much from his infancy. But turning round after a moment or two, he beheld along the horizon that rugged ridge of mountains. He beheld distinct and elevated among these his own rezagoni, and felt his blood curdled within him, then indulging for a few minutes in a mournful look in that direction. He slowly and sadly turned round and continued his way. By degrees he began to discern bell fries and towers, copulas and roofs, then descending into the road. He walked forward for a long time, and, when he found that he was near the city, accosted a passenger and made a low bow, with the best politeness he was master of, said to him, will you be kind enough, senor? What do you want, my brave youth? Can you direct me the shortest way to the Capuchin convent where Father Bonaventura lives? The person to whom Renzo addressed himself was a wealthy resident in the neighborhood, who, having been that morning to Milan on business, was returning without having done anything, in great haste to reach his home before dark, and therefore quite willing to escape this detention. Nevertheless, without betraying any impatience, he courteously replied, My good friend, there are many more convents than one. You must tell me more clearly which one you are seeking. Renzo then drew from his bosom Father Cristoforo's letter and showed it to the gentleman, who, having read the address, Porto Orientali said he, returning it to him, You are fortunate, young man, the convent you want is not far hence. Take this narrow street to the left. It is a byway, not far off you will come to the corner of a long and low building. This is the Lazareto. Follow the moat that surrounds it, and you will come out at the Porto Orientali. Enter the gate and three or four hundred yards further. You will see a little square surrounded by elms. There is the convent, and you cannot mistake it. God be with you, my brave youth. And, accompanying the last words with a courteous wave of the hand, he continued his way. Renzo stood surprised and edified at the affable manners of the citizens toward strangers, and knew not that it was an unusual day, a day in which the Spanish cloak had to stoop before the doublet. He followed the path that had been pointed out and arrived at the Porto Orientali. The reader, however, must not allow the scene now associated with this name to present itself to his mind. The wide and straight street flanked with poplars. Outside the spacious openings between the two piles of buildings begun at least with some pretensions on first entering these two lateral mounds at the base of the bastions. Regularly sloped, leveled at the top, and edged with trees that garden on one side and further on those palaces on the right and left of the principal street of the suburb. When Renzo entered by that gate, the street outside ran straight along the whole length of the lasaretto, it being impossible for it for that distance to do otherwise. Then it continued crooked and narrow between the two hedges. The gate consisted of two pillars with a roofing above to protect the door posts and on one side a small cottage for the custom house officers. The bases of the bastions were of irregular steepness and the pavement was a rough and unequal surface of rubbish and fragments of broken vessels thrown there by chance. The street of the suburb which opened to the view of a person entering the Porto Orientali bore no bad resemblance to that now facing the entrance of the Porta Tosa. A small ditch ran along the middle till within a few yards of the gate and thus divided it into two winding narrow streets covered with dust or mud according to the season. At the spot where was and now is the little street called Borghetto. This ditch emptied itself into a sewer and thence into another ditch that washes the walls. Here stood a column surmounted by a cross called the Column of San Dionigi. On the right and left were gardens enclosed by hedges and at intervals a few small cottages inhabited chiefly by washer women. Renzo entered the gate and pursued his way. None of the custom house officers spoke to him which appeared to him the more wonderful since the few in this country who could boast of having been at Milan had related marvelous stories of examinations and interrogations to which all those who entered were subjected. The street was deserted so much so that had he not heard a distant buzz indicating some great movement he would have fancied he was entering a forsaken town. Advancing forward without knowing what to make of this he saw on the pavement certain white streaks as white as snow but snow it could not be since it does not fall in streaks nor usually at this season. He advanced to one of these, looked at it, touched it and felt assured that it was flour. A great abundance thought he there must be in Milan if they scatter in this manner the gifts of God. They gave us to understand that there was a great famine everywhere. See how they go about to make us poor people quiet. Going a few steps further and coming up to the column he saw at its foots a still stranger sight. Scattered about on the steps of the pedestal were things which certainly were not stones and had they been on a baker's counter he would not have hesitated a moment to call them loaves but Renzo would not so readily trust his eyes because for sooth this was not likely a place for bread. Let us see what these things can be said he again to himself and going to the column he stooped down and took one in his hand it was really a round very white loaf and such as Renzo was unaccustomed to eat except on holy days. It is really bread said he allowed so great was his astonishment is this the way they scatter it in this country in such a year too and don't they even give themselves the trouble to pick up what falls this must be the land of Cusagagna and after ten miles walk in the fresh morning air this bread when he had recovered his self-possession aroused his appetite shall I take it deliberated he pa they have left it here to the discretion of dogs and surely a Christian may taste it and after all if the owner comes forward I will pay him thus reasoning he put the loaf he held in his hand into one pocket took up a second and put it into the other and a third which he began to eat and then proceeded on his way more uncertain than ever and longing to have this strange mystery cleared up scarcely had he started when he saw people issuing from the interior of the city and he stood still to watch those who first appeared there were a man a woman and a little way behind a boy all three carrying load on their backs which seemed beyond their strength and all three in the most extraordinary condition their dress or rather their rags covered with flour their faces flowered and at the same time distorted and much heated they walked not only as if they were wearied by their load but trembling as if their limbs had been beaten and bruised the man staggered under the weight of the large sack of flour which here and there in holes scattered a shower around at every stumble and at every disturbance of his equilibrium but the figure of the woman was still more awkward an unwieldy bulk two extended arms which seemed to bear it up with difficulty and looked like two carved handles from the neck of a widest part of a large kilderkin and beneath this enormous body two legs naked up to the knees which could scarcely taught her along renzo gaze steadily at this great bulk and discovered that it was a woman's gown turned up around her with as much flour in it as it could hold and rather more so than from time to time it was scattered in handfuls over the ground the boy held with both hands a basket full of bread upon his head but from having shorter legs than his parents he kept falling behind by degrees and in running forward to overtake them the basket lost its balance and a few loaves fell and the name of an ideal country affording all sorts of pleasure if you let another fall you vile helpless said the mother gnashing her teeth at the child i don't let them fall they fall themselves how can i help it replied he eh it's well for you that i have my hands engaged rejoin the woman shaking her fists as if she would have given the poor child a blow and with this movement she sent forth a fresh cloud of flour enough to have made more than the two loaves the boy had let fall come come said the man we will go back presently to pick them up or somebody will do it for us we have been a long while in want now that we have got a little abundance let us enjoy it in blessed peace in the meantime people arrived from without and one of them accosting the woman where must we go to get bread as he forward forward was her reply and when they were a few yards past she added muttering these black guard peasants will come and sweep all the bakehouses and magazines and there will be nothing left for us there's a little for everybody magpie said the husband plenty plenty from this and similar scenes which rinsel heard and witnessed he began to gather that he had come to a city in a state of insurrection and that this was a day of victory that is to say when everyone helped himself in proportion to his inclination and power giving blows in payment however we may desire to make our poor mountaineer appear to the best advantage yet historical accuracy obliges us to say that his first feelings was that of satisfaction he had so little to rejoice at in the ordinary course of things that he was inclined to approve of anything that might make a change whatever it might be and besides not being a man superior to his age he entertained the common opinion or prejudice that the scarcity of bread was produced by monopolies and bakers and readily did he esteem every method justifiable of rescuing from their grasp the food which they according to this opinion so cruelly denied to the hunger of a whole people he resolved however to get out of the tumult and rejoiced at being directed to a cappuccine who would give him shelter and good advice engaged in such thoughts and looking about him at the fresh victors who appeared laden with spoil he took the short road that still remained to reach the convent on the present site of a noble palace with his beautiful portico there was formerly until within a few years a small square and at the furthest side of this the church and the convent of the cappuccines with four large elms standing before them we congratulate not without envy those of our readers who have not seen Milan as thus described that is because they must be very young and have not had much time to commit many follies Renzo went straight to the door put into his bosom the remaining half loaf took out his letter and held it ready in his hand and rang the bell a small wicked was opened at the summons and the face of a porter appeared at the gate to ask who was there one from the country bringing an important letter to father Bonaventura from father Cristoforo give it to me said the porter putting his hand through the grate no no said Renzo I must give it into his own hands he is not in the convent let me come in then and I will wait for him replied Renzo followed my advice rejoined the frayer go and wait in the church where you may be employing yourself profitably you cannot be admitted into the convent at present so saying he closed the wicked Renzo stood a resolute with the letter in his hand he then took a few steps towards the door of the church to follow the advice of the porter but thought he would first just give another glance at the stir outside he crossed the square reached the side of the road and stood with his arms crossed on his breast to watch the thickest and most noisy part of the crowd that was issuing from the interior of the city the vortex attracted our spectator let us go and see thought he and again taking out a piece of bread he began to eat and advanced towards the crowd while he was walking thither we will relate as briefly as possible the causes and the beginnings of this uproar end of chapter 11 part 2 section 23 chapter 12 part 1 of the betrothed this is a LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information auto volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the betrothed by Alessandro Manzoni chapter 12 part 1 this was the second year of the scarcity in the preceding year the surplus remaining from former seasons had more or less supplied the deficiency and the people neither satiated nor famished but certainly sufficiently unprovided for had reached the harvest of 1628 in which our story finds us now this harvest so long and eagerly looked forward to proved still less productive than the former partly on account of the adverse character of the season and that not only at Milan but in great measure in the surrounding country and partly by the agency of man such were the ravages and havoc of the war that amiable war to which we have already alluded that in the parts of the country bordering on its scene much more land than usual remained uncultivated and deserted by the peasants who instead of working to provide food for themselves and others were obliged to wonder about as beggars I have said more than usual because the insupportable taxes levied with unequal cupidity and folly the habitual conduct even in perfect peace of the stationary troops conduct which the mournful documents of the age compared to that of an invading enemy and other reasons which this is not the place to enumerate had for some time been producing this sad effect throughout the whole of the Milanese the particular circumstances of which we are now speaking being but the sudden exacerbation of a chronic disease no sooner had this deficient harvest being gathered in than the provisions for the army and the waste which always accompanies them made such a fearful void in it that scarcity quickly made itself felt and with scarcity its melancholy but profitable as well as inevitable effect a rise of prices but when the price of food reaches a certain point there always arises at least hitherto it has always arisen and if it is so still after all that has been written by so many learned men what must it have been in those days there always arises an opinion among the many that it is not the effect of scarcity they forget that they had foreseen and predicted such an issue they suddenly fancy that there is plenty of corn and that the evil proceeds from there not being as much distributed as is required for consumption propositions sufficiently preposterous but which flatter both their anger and their hopes corn monopolists either real or imaginary large landholders the bakers who purchased corn all in short who had either little or much or were thought to have any were charged with being the causes of the scarcity and dearness of provisions they were the objects of universal complaint and of the hatred of the multitude of every rank the populace could tell with certainty where there were magazines and granaries full and overflowing with corn and even requiring to be propped up they indicated most extravagant numbers of sacks they talked with certainty of the immense quantities of grains secretly dispatched to other places where probably it was asserted with equal assurance and equal excitement that the corn grown there was transported to Milan they implored from the magistrates those precautions which always appear or at least have always hitherto appeared so equitable so simple so capable of drawing forth the corn which they affirm to be secreted walled up or buried and of restoring to them abundance the magistrates therefore busied themselves in fixing the highest price that was to be charged upon every commodity in threatening punishment to anyone who should refuse to sell and making other regulations of a similar nature as however all human precautions how vigorous so ever can neither diminish the necessity of food nor produce crops out of season and as these individual precautions offered no very inviting terms to other countries where there might be a super abundance the evil continued and increased the multitude attributed such an effect to the scarcity and feebleness of the remedies and loudly solicited some more spirited and decisive measures unfortunately they found a man after their own heart in the absence of the governor Don Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordova who was encamped over Casale de Monferrato the high chancellor Antonio Ferrer also a Spaniard supplied his place at Milan this man saw and who could help seeing it that a moderate price on bread is in itself a most desirable thing and he thought here was his mistake that an order from him would suffice to produce it he fixed the limit la meta by which the tariff was distinguished in articles of food at the price that the bread would have had if the corn had been generally sold at 33 livers the bushel and they sold it as high as 80 he acted like the old woman who thought to make herself young again by changing her a baptismal faith regulations less irrational and less unjust had on more than one occasion by the resistance of actual circumstances remained unexecuted but that this should be carried into effect was undertaken by the multitude who seeing their demands at last converted into a law would not suffer it to be a mere form they immediately ran to the bake houses to demand bread at the fixed price and they required it with that air of threatening resolution which passion force and law united could impact it need not be asked if the bakers resisted with sleeves turned up they were busy in carrying putting into the oven and taking out thence without intermission for the people having a confused idea that it was too violent an attempt to last long besieged the bake houses incessantly to enjoy their temporary good fortune and every reader can imagine what a pleasure it must have been to drudge like a slave and expose one's self more than usually to an attack of pleurisy to be after all a loser in consequence but with magistrates on one side threatening punishments and the people on the other important murmuring at every delay that was interposed in serving them and indefinitely menacing someone or other of their chastisements which are always the worst that are inflicted in this world there was no help for it drudge they must they were forced to empty and replenish their ovens and sell however to keep them up to such employment it was of little avail to impose strict orders and keep them in constant fear it was a question of absolute practicability and had the thing lasted a little longer they could have done no more they remonstrated incessantly against the iniquitous and insupportable weight of the burden laid upon them and protested they would willingly throw the shovel into the oven and take their departure and yet they continued to persevere as they could longing hoping that someday or other the high chancellor would come to his senses but antonio ferrer who was what now would be called a man of character replied that the bakers had made enormous profits in past times that they would equally make great gains in better times to come that therefore it was both reasonable and necessary they should make some compensation to the public and that in the meanwhile they must get on as they could whether he were really convinced of the truth of those reasons he alleged to others or whether perceiving from its effects the impossibility of maintaining this regulation he was willing to leave to others the odium of revoking it for who can now look into antonio ferrer's mind yet certain it is he did not relax one iota of what he had established at length the de curioni a municipal magistracy composed of nobles which lasted till the 96th year of the last century informed the governor by letter of the state in which matters stood hoping he might be able to suggest some remedy don gonzalo buried overhead in the affairs of war did what the reader will certainly imagine he nominated a council which he endowed with full authority to fix such a price upon bread as could become current thus doing justice to both parties the deputies assembled or it was expressed after the spanish fashion in the jargon of those days the junta met and after a hundred bowings compliments preambles size whisperings airy propositions and subterfuges urged by a necessity which all felt to come to some determination conscious that they were casting an important die but aware that there was no other course to be taken they at length agreed to augment the price of bread the bakers once more breathed but the people raved the evening preceding the day in which renzo arrived at melanne the streets and squares swarmed with men who transported with indignation and swayed by a prevailing opinion assembled whether acquaintances or strangers in knots and parties without any previous concert and almost without being aware of it like raindrops on a hillside every conversation increased the general belief and roused the passion of both hearer and speaker amongst the many excited ones there were some few of cooler temperament who stood quietly watching with great satisfaction the troubling of the water who busied themselves in troubling it more and more with such reasonings and stories as rogues know how to invent and agitated minds are so ready to believe and who determined not to let it calm down without first catching a little fish thousands went to rest that night with an indeterminate feeling that something must and would be done crowds assembled before daybreak women children men old people workmen beggars all grouped together at random here was a confused whispering of many voices there declined to a crowd of applauding bystanders this one asked his nearest fellow the same question that had just been put to himself that other repeated the exclamation that he heard resounding in his ears everywhere were disputes threats wonderings and very few words made up the materials of so many conversations they're only wanted something to lay hold of some beginning some kind of impetus to reduce words to deeds and this was not long wanting towards daybreak little boys issued from the baker's shops carrying baskets of bread to the houses of their usual customers the first appearance of one of these unlucky boys in a crowd of people was like the fall of a lighted squib in a gunpowder magazine let us see if there is bread here exclaimed a hundred voices in an instant I for the tyrants who roll in abundance and would let us die of hunger said one approaching the boy and raising his hand to the edge of the basket he snatched at it and exclaimed let me see the boy coloured turned pale trembled and tried to say let me go on but the words died between his lips and slackening his arms he endeavored to disengage them hastily from the straps down with the basket was the instantaneous cry many hands seized it and brought it to the ground they then threw the cloth that covered it into the air a tepid fragrance was diffused around we too are christians we must have bread to eat said the first he took out a loaf and raising it in the view of the crowd began to eat in an instant all hands were in the basket and in less time than one can relate it all had disappeared those who had got none of the spoil irritated at the sight of what the others had gained and animated by the facility of the enterprise moved off by parties in quest of other straying baskets which were no sooner met with than they were pillaged immediately nor was it necessary to attack the bearers those who unfortunately were on their way as soon as they saw which way the wind blew voluntarily lay down their burdens and took to their heels nevertheless those who remained without a supply were beyond comparison the greater part nor were the victors half satisfied with such insignificant spoil and some there were mingled in the crowds who had resolved upon a much better regulated attack to the bakehouse to the bakehouse was the cry in the street called la corsa de serbi was a bakehouse which is still there bearing the same name a name that in tuscan means the bakery of the crutches and in milanese is composed of words so extravagant so whimsical that the alphabet of the italian language does not afford letters to express its sound in this direction the crowd advanced the people of the shop were busy questioning the poor boy who had returned unladen and he pale with terror and greatly discomposed was unintelligibly relating his unfortunate adventure when suddenly they heard a noise as of a crowd in motion it increases and approaches the forerunners of the crowd are in sight shut lock up quick quick one runs to beg assistance from the sheriff the others hastily shut up the shop and bolt and bar the doors inside the multitudes begin to increase without and the cries redouble of bread bread open open at this juncture the sheriff arrived in the midst of a troop of halberdie make room make room my boys go home go home make room for the sheriff cried he the throng not too much crowded gave way a little so that the halberdie could advance and get close to the door of the shop they're not in a very orderly manner but my friends said the sheriff addressing the people from thence what are you doing here go home go home where is your fear of god what will our master the king say we don't wish to do you any harm but go home like good fellows what in the world can you do here in such a crush there is nothing good to be got here either for the soul or body go home go home but how were those next to the speaker who saw his face and could hear his words even had they been willing to obey how were they to accomplish it urged forward as they were and almost trampled on by those behind who in their turn were trodden upon by others like wave upon wave and step upon step to the very edge of the rapidly increasing throng the sheriff began to feel a little alarmed make them give way that i may get a little breath he said to his halberdier but don't hurt anybody let us try to get into the shop knock make them give way back back cried the halberdie throwing themselves in a body upon their nearest neighbors and pushing them back with the point of their weapons the people replied with a grumbling shout and retreated as they could dispersing blows on the breast and stomach in profusion and treading upon the toes of those behind while such was the general rush the squeezing and the trampling that those who were in the middle of the throng would have given anything to have been elsewhere in the meanwhile a small space was cleared before the house the sheriff knocked and kicked against the door calling to those within to open it these seeing from the window how things stood ran down in haste and admitted the sheriff followed by the halberdie who crept in one after the other the last repulsing the crowd with their weapons when all were secured they re bolted the door and running upstairs the sheriff displayed himself at the window we leave the reader to imagine the outcry my friends cried he many looked up my friends go home a general pardon to all who go home at once bread bread open open were the most conspicuous words in the savage vociferations the crowd sent forth in reply justice my friends take care you have yet time given you come get away return to your houses you shall have bread but this is not the way to get it hey hey what are you doing down there hey at this door five fire upon you i see i see justice take care it is a great crime i'm coming to you hey hey away with those irons down with those hands five you melanese who are talked of all over the world for peaceableness listen listen you have always been good are you rascals this rapid transition of style was caused by a stone which coming from the hands of one of these good subjects struck the forehead of the sheriff on the left protuberance of his metaphysical profundities rascals rascals continued he shutting the window in a rage and retiring from view but though he had shouted to the extent of the powers of his throat his words both good and bad had vanished and consumed in thin air repulsed by the cries which came from below the objects that now as he afterwards described presented themselves to his view were stones and iron bars the first they could lay hold of by the way with which they tried to force open the doors and windows and they already had made considerable progress in their work end of chapter 12 part one chapter 12 part two of The Betrothed this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org reading done by Jules Harlock of Mississauga Ontario Canada The Betrothed by Alessandro Manzoni chapter 12 part two in the meantime the masters and shop boys appeared at the upper windows armed with stones they had probably unpaved the art and crying out to those below with horrible looks and gestures to let them alone they showed their weapons and threatened to let fly among them seeing that nothing else would avail they began to throw at them in reality not one fell in vain since the press was such that even a grain of corn as the saying was could not have reached the ground ah you great vagabonds you great villains is this the bread you give to poor people ah alas oh now now now at us was raised from below more than one was injured and two boys were killed fury increased the strength of the people and the doors and bars gave way and the crowd poured into the passages in torrents those within perceiving their danger took refuge in the garrets the sheriff the hall breaders and the few of the household gathered together here in a corner under the slates and others escaping by the skylight wandered about on the roof like cats the sight of the spoils made the victors forget their designs of sanguinary vengeance they flew upon the large chests and instantly pillaged them others instead hastened to tear open the counter seized the tills took out by handfuls pocketed and set off with the money to return for bread afterwards if there remained any the crowd dispersed themselves through the interior magazines some laid hold of the sacks and drew them out others turned them wrong side upwards and untying the mouth to reduce them to a weight which they could manage to carry shook out some of the flowers others crying out stay stay came underneath to prevent this waste by catching it in their clothes and aprons others again fell upon the kneading trough and seized the dough which ran over their hands and escaped their grasp on every side here one who had snatched up a meal sieve came brandishing it in the air some come some go some handle men women children swarmed around pushes blows and cries are bandied about and a white powder that rises and clouds and deposits itself in every direction involves the whole proceeding in a thick mist outside is a crowd composed of two reverse processions which alternately separate an intermingle some going out with their prey others entering to share the spoil while this bakehouse was being thus plundered none of the others were quiet and free from danger but at none had the people assembled in such numbers as to be very daring in some the masters had collected a few exhilaries and stood upon their defense others less strong in numbers or more terrified came to some kind of agreement they distributed bread to those who had begun to crowd around their shops if they would be content with this and go away those who did withdraw did so not so much because they were contented with their acquisitions as because the hall breaders and police keeping at a distance from the tremendous scene at the bakehouse of the crutches appeared nevertheless elsewhere in sufficient force to keep in awe these smaller parties of mutineers by this means the confusion and concourse continued to to augment at this first unfortunate bakehouse for all those whose fingers itched to be at work and whose hearts were set upon doing some great deed repaired thither where their friends were in greatest numbers and impunity was secure such was the state of things when renzo finishing as we have related his piece of bread came to the suburb of the port of orientali and set off without being aware of it exactly to the central scene of the tumult he continued his way now urged forward now hindered by the crowd and as he walked he watched and listened to gather from the confused murmurs of voices some more positive information of the state of things the following are nearly the words he caught on his way now said one the infamous imposter of these villains has discovered who said there was no more bread nor flour nor corn now we see things clearly and distinctly and they can no longer deceive us as they have done hurrah for plenty i tell you all this just goes for nothing said another it is only like making a hole in water so that it will be worse for us if we don't get full just as done us bread will be sold at a low price but they will put poison in it to kill us poor people like flies they've said already that we are too many they said so in the council and i know it for certain because i heard it with these ears from an acquaintance of mine who is the friend of a relation of a scullion of one of these lords they are not things to be laughed at said another poor wretch who was foaming at the mouth and holding up to his bleeding head a ragged pocket handkerchief some neighbor by way of consolation echoing his remark make way gentlemen pray be good enough to make way for a poor father of a family who is carrying something to eat to five famished children these were the words of one who came straggling under the weight of a large sack of flour and everybody instantly drew back to attend to his request i said another almost in an undertone to his companion i shall take my departure i am a man of the world and i know how these things go these clowns who now make so much noise tomorrow or next day will be shut up in their houses cowering with fear i have already noticed some faces some worthy fellows who are going about as spies and taking note of those who are here and not here and when all is over they will render in an account and bring punishment on those who deserve it he who protects the bakers cried a sonorous voice which attracted renzo's attention is the superintendent of provisions they are all rascals said a bystander yes but he is at the head of them replied the first the superintendent of provisions elected every year by the governor from a list of six nobles formed by the council of the decorione was the president of this council as well as the court of provisions which composed of 12 noblemen had together with other duties that of overlooking the distribution of corn in the city the person who occupied this post must necessarily in times of scarcity and ignorance have been regarded as the author of the evil unless he had acted like farrier a course which was not in his power even had the idea entered his mind rascals exclaimed another could they do worse they have actually dared to say that the high chancellor is an old fool to rob him of his credit and to get the government into their own hands we ought to make a large handcoupe and put them in to live upon vetches and cockleweed as they would have treated us bread a said one who was making as great haste as he could bread blows with stones of pound weight stones falling plump that came down like hail and such breaking of ribs I long to be at my own house among such sentences as these by which it is difficult to say whether he were more informed or perplexed and among numberless knocks and pushes Renzo at last arrived opposite the bakehouse the crowds here had considerably dispersed so that he could contemplate the dismal scene of recent confusion the walls unplastered and defaced with stones and bricks the window broken and the door destroyed these are no very fine doings thought Renzo to himself if they treat all the bakehouses in this way where will they make bread in the ditches from time to time somebody would issue from the house carrying a part of a bin of a tub or of a boiling hutch the pole of a kneading instrument a bench a basket a journal a waste book or something belonging to this unfortunate bakehouse and shouting make room make room would pass on through the crowd all these he observed went in the same direction and to some fixed place Renzo determined to find out the meaning of this procedure followed behind a man who having tied together a bundle of broken planks and chips carried it off on his back and like the others took the road that runs along the northern side of the cathedral and receives its name from the flight of steps which was then in existence and had his only lately been removed the wish of observing what happened did not prevent our mountaineer on arriving in sight of this noble pile from stopping to gaze upwards with open mouth he then quickened his pace to overtake his self-chosen guide and on turning the corner gave another glance at the front of the building at that time in a rude and far from finished state keeping all the while close behind his leader who advanced towards the middle of the square the crowds became more dense as he went forward but they made way for the carrier and while he cleft the waves of people Renzo following in his wake arrived with him in the very center of the throng here was space and in the midst of bonfire a heap of embers the relics of implements before mentioned around the people were dancing and clapping their hands mingling in the uproar a thousand shouts of triumph and implication the man with the bundle upset it into the embers others with the long half burn pole gathered them up and raked them together from the sides and underneath the smoke increased and thickened the flame again burst forth and with it the redoubled cries of the bystanders hurrah for plenty death to those who would starve us away with the famine perish the court of provision perish the junta hurrah for plenty hurrah for bread to say the truth the destruction of sieves and kneading troughs the pillaging of bakehouses and the routing of bakers are not the most expedious means of providing a supply of bread but this is one of those metaphysical subtleties which never entered the mind of the multitude renzo without being of too metaphysical a turn yet not being in such a state of excitement as the others could not avoid making this reflection in his mind he kept it however to himself for this among other reasons because out of so many faces there was not one that seemed to say my friend if i am wrong correct me and i shall be indebted to you the flame had again sunk no one was seen approaching with fresh combustibles and the crowd was beginning to feel impatient when a rumor was spread that that at the cardusio a small square or crossway not far distance they had laid siege to a bakehouse in similar circumstances the announcement of an event very often produces it together with this rumor a general wish to repair thither gained ground among the multitude i am going are you going let us go let us go we're heard in every direction the crowd broke up were set in motion and moved on renzo remained behind almost stationary except when dragged forward by the torrent and in the meanwhile held counsel with himself whether he should make the his escape from the stir and return to the convent in search of father bonaventura or go and see this afraid to curiosity prevailed he resolved however not to mingle in the thickest of the crowd at the risk of broken bones or something worse but to keep at a distance and watch having determined on his plans and finding himself tolerably unobserved he took out the second role and biting off a mouthful moved forward in the rear of the tumultuous body by the outlet at one corner of the square the multitude had already entered the short and narrow street pesciera vecia and thence through the crooked archway into the piazza di mercanti very few were there who in passing the niche which divides about the center the terrace of the edifice then called the college of doctors did not cast a slight glance upward at the great statue that adorns it at that serious surly frowning morose compments of Don Filippo the second which even in marble enforces a feeling of respect and seems ready to say I am here you rabble this niche is now empty by a singular accident about 170 years after the events which we are now relating one morning the head of the statue that stood there was exchanged the scepter was taken out of his hand and a dagger placed there instead and on his statue was inscribed the name of Marcus Brutus thus adorned it remained perhaps a couple of years but one morning some persons who had no sympathies with Marcus Brutus and who must have even had born him a secret grudge threw a rope around the statue tore it down and bestowed upon it a hundred injuries thus mangled and reduced to a shapeless trunk they dragged it along with a perfused accompaniment of epithets through the streets and when they were well tired through it no one knows where who would have foretold this to Andrea beefy when he sculptured it from the squares of the mercanti the clamorous multitude turned into the by street the fustigandani whence they poured into the Corduzio everyone immediately on entering the square turned their eyes towards the bakehouse that had been indicated to them but instead of the crowd of friends whom they expected to find already at work they saw only a few irresolutely hovering above at some distance from the shop which was fastened up and protected by armed men at the windows who gave tokens of a determination to defend themselves in case of need they therefore turned back and paused to inform those who were coming up and see what course the others would wish to take some returned or remained behind there was a general retreat and detention asking and answering of questions a kind of stagnation size of a resolution then a general murmur of consultation at this moment an ill omen voice was heard in the midst of the crowd the house of the superintendent of provisions is close by let us go and get justice and lay siege to it it seemed rather the common recollection of an agreement already concluded then the acceptance of a proposal to the superintendents to the superintendents was the only cry that could be heard the crowd moved forward with unanimous fury towards the street where the house named at such an ill-fated moment was situated end of chapter 12 part 2