 CHAPTER 38 PART 2 The day following Dona Bondeo received a visit as unexpected as it was gratifying from the senior marquee we have mentioned, a person beyond the prime of manhood whose countenance was, as it were, a seal to what report had said of him, open, benevolent, placid, humble, dignified, and with something that indicated a resigned sadness. I come," said he, to bring you the compliments of the cardinal archbishop. Ah, what condescension of you both! When I was about to take leave of that incomparable man, who is good enough to honor me with his friendship, he mentioned to me two young betrothed persons of this parish, who have had to suffer on account of the unfortunate Don Rodrigo. His lordship wishes to have some tidings of them. Are they living, and are their affairs settled? Everything is settled. Indeed, I was intending to write about them to his eminence, but now that I have the honor, are they here? They are, and they will be man and wife as soon as possible. And I request you to be good enough to tell me if I can be of any service to them, and also to instruct me in the best way of being so. During this calamity, I have lost the only two sons I had and their mother, and have received three considerable inheritances. I had a superfluity even before, so that you see it is really rendering me a service to give me an opportunity of employing some of my wealth, and particularly such an opportunity as this. May heaven bless you! Why are not all enough? I thank you most heartily in the name of these my children, and since your illustrious lordship gives me so much encouragement, it is true, my lord, that I have an expedient to suggest which perhaps may not displease your lordship. Allow me to tell you, then, that these worthy people are resolved to go and settle themselves elsewhere and to sell what little property they have here, the young man a vineyard of about nine or ten perches if I am not mistaken, but neglected and completely overgrown. Besides he also has a cottage, and his bride another, now both you will see the abode of rats. A nobleman like your lordship cannot know how the poor fare when they are all reduced to the necessity of disposing of their goods. It always ends by falling into the hands of some nave, who, if occasion offers, will make love to the place for some time, and as soon as he finds that its owner wants to sell it, draws back, and pretends not to wish for it, so that he is obliged to run after him, and give it him for a price of bread. Truly, too, in such circumstances as these, my Lord Marquis will already have seen the drift of my remarks. The best charity your most illustrious lordship can afford to these people is to relieve them of this difficulty by purchasing their little property. To say the truth, I have an eye to my own interest, my own advantage, in making this suggestion, the acquisition in my parish of a fellow ruler like my Lord Marquis, but your lordship will decide according to your own judgment. I have only spoken from obedience. The Marquis highly commended the suggestion, returned thanks for it, begged Dona Bondeo to be the judge of the price, and to charge it exorbitantly, and completed the curate's amazement by proposing to go together immediately to the bride's house, where they should probably also find the bridegroom. By the way, Dona Bondeo, in high glee as may be imagined, thought of and mentioned another proposal. Since your illustrious lordship is so inclined to benefit these poor people, there is another service which you might render them. The young man has an order of arrest out against him, a kind of sentence of outlawry for some trifling fault he committed in Milan two years ago on that day of the great insurrection, in which he chanced to be implicated without any malicious intentions, indeed quite ignorantly, like a mouse caught in a trap. Nothing serious I assure you, mere boyish tricks mischievous pranks. Indeed he is quite incapable of committing an actual crime. I may say so, for I baptized him, and have seen him grow up under my eyes. Besides, if your lordship would take any pleasure in it, as gentlemen sometimes do in hearing these poor people's rude language, you can make him relate the account himself, and you will hear. At present, as it refers to old matters, no one gives him any molestation, and as I have said, he thinks of leaving the state. But in the course of time, or in case of returning here or going elsewhere, sometime or other, you will agree with me that it is always better to find oneself clear. My Lord Marquis has influence in Milan, as is just, both as a noble cavalier and as the great man he really is. No, no, allow me to say it, for the truth will have its way. A recommendation, a word from a person like yourself, is more than is necessary to obtain a ready acquittal. Were there not heavy charges against this young man? Sha, sha, I would not believe them. They made a great stir about it at the moment, but I don't think there's anything now beyond the mere formalities. If so, the thing will be easy, and I willingly take it upon me. And yet you will not let it be said that you are a great man. I say it, and I will say it. In spite of your lordship, I will say it. And even if I were to be silent, it would be to no purpose, because everybody says so, and vokes populi vokes dey. They found Renso and the three women together as they expected. How these felt, we leave the reader to imagine. But for my part, I think the very rough and bare walls and the windows and the tables and the kitchen utensils must have marveled at receiving among them so extraordinary a guest. He encouraged the conversation by talking of the cardinal and their other matters with unreserved cordiality, and at the same time with a great delicacy. By and by he came to the proposal. Dona Bondeo, being requested by him to name the prize, came forward. And after a few gestures and apologies, that it wasn't in his line and that he could only guess at random, and that he spoke out of obedience, and that he left it to him, mentioned what he thought a most extravagant sum. The purchaser said that for his part he was extremely well satisfied, and if he had misunderstood, repeated double the amount. He would not hear of rectifying the mistake and cut short and concluded all further conversation by inviting the party to dinner at his palace the day after the wedding, when the deeds should be properly drawn out. Ah, said Dona Bondeo afterwards to himself, when he had returned home. If the plague did things in this way always and everywhere, it would really be a sin to speak ill of it. We might almost wish for one every generation, and be content that people should be in league to produce a malady. The dispensation arrived, the acquittal arrived, that blessed day arrived. The bride and bridegroom went in triumphal security to that very church where, with Dona Bondeo's own mouth, they were declared man and wife. Another and far more singular triumph was the going next day to the palace, and I leave my readers to conjecture the thoughts which must have passed through their minds on ascending that eclivity, on entering that doorway, and the observations that each must have made according to his or her natural disposition. I only mention that, in the midst of their rejoicing, one or other more than once made the remark that poor father Christophoro was still wanting to complete their happiness. Yet for himself, added they, he is assuredly better off than we are. The nobleman received them with great kindness, conducted them into a fine large servant's hall, and seated the bride and bridegroom at table with Agnese and their Milanese friend. And before withdrawing to Dain elsewhere with Dona Bondeo, wished to assist a little at this first banquet, and even helped to wait upon them. I hope it will enter into no one's head to say that it would have been a more simple plan to have made it once but one table. I have described him as an excellent man, but not as an original, as it would nowadays be called. I have said that he was humble, but not that he was a prodigy of humility. He possessed enough of this virtue to put himself beneath these good people, but not on an equality with them. After the two dinners, the contract was drawn out by the hands of a lawyer, not, however, Azeka Garbugli. He, I mean his outward man, was and still is at Cantoralli, and for those who are unacquainted with that neighborhood, I suppose some explanation of this information is here necessary. A little higher up than Lekko, perhaps half a mile or so, and almost on the confines of another country named Castello, is a place called Cantoralli, where two ways cross. At one corner of the square space is seen in eminence, like an artificial hillock with a cross on the summit. There is nothing else but a heap of the bodies of those who died in this contagion. Tradition, it is true, simply says, died of the contagion, but it must be this one and none other, as it was the last and most destructive of which any memory remains. And we know that unassisted traditions always say too little by themselves. They felt no inconvenience on their return, except that Renzo was rather incommodated by the weight of the money he carried away with him. But as the reader knows, he had had far greater troubles in his life than this. I say nothing of the disquiet of his mind, which was by no means trifling, in deciding upon the best means of employing it. To have seen the different projects that passed through that mind, the fancies, the debates, to have heard the pros and cons for agriculture or business, it was as if two academies of the last century had there met together. And the affair was to Renzo far more overwhelming and perplexing, because, since he was but a solitary individual, it could not be said to him, why need you choose it all, both one and the other, each in its own turn? For in substance, they are the same. And, like one's legs, they are two things which go better together than one alone. Nothing was now thought of but packing up and setting off on their journey. The Traumaglino family to their new country and the widow to Milan. The tears, the thanks, the promises of going to see each other were many. Not less tender, even to tears, was the separation of Renzo and the family from his hospitable friend. Nor let it be thought that matters went on coldly even with Dona Bondio. The three poor creatures had always preserved a certain respectful attachment to their curate. And he, in the bottom of his heart, had always wished them well. Such happy circumstances as these entangle the affections. Should anyone ask if there was no grief felt in thus tearing themselves from their native country, from their beloved mountains, it may be answered that there was. For sorrow, I venture to say, is mingled more or less with everything. We must, however, believe that it was not very profound, since they might have spared themselves from it by remaining at home now that the two great obstacles, Don Rodrigo and the order for Renzo's apprehension, were both taken away. But all three had been for some time accustomed to look upon the country to which they were going as their own. Renzo had recommended it to the women by telling them of the facilities which it afforded to artificers and a hundred things about the fine way in which they could live there. Besides, they had all experienced some very bitter moments in that home upon which they were now turning their backs. And mournful recollections always end in spoiling to the mind the places which recall them. And if these should be its native home, there is perhaps in such recollections something still more keen and poignant. Even an infant, says our manuscript, reclines willingly on his nurse's bosom and seeks with confidence and avidity the breast which has hitherto sweetly nourished him. But if, in order to wean him, she tinctures it with wormwood, the babe withdraws the lip then returns to try it once more, but at length after all refuses it, weeping indeed but still refusing it. What, however, will the reader now say on hearing that they had scarcely arrived and settled themselves in their adopted country before Renzo found their annoyances all prepared for him? Do you pity him? But so little serves to disturb a state of happiness. This is a short sketch of the matter. The talk that had been there made about Lucia for some time before her arrival, the knowledge that Renzo had suffered so much for her sake and had always been constant and faithful, perhaps a word or two from some friend who was partial to him and all belonging to him had created a kind of curiosity to see the young girl and a kind of expectation of seeing her very beautiful. Now we know what expectation is, imaginative, credulous, confident. Afterwards, when the trial comes, difficult to satisfy, disdainful. Never finding what she had counted upon because, in fact, she knew not her own mind, and pitilessly exacting severe payment for the loveliness so unmeaningly lavished on her object. When this Lucia appeared, many who had perhaps thought that she must certainly have golden locks and cheeks blushing like the rose and a pair of eyes one more beautiful than the other and what not besides began to shrug their shoulders, turn up their noses and say, Is this she? After such a time, after so much talk, one expected something better. What is she after all? A peasant like hundreds more. Why, there are plenty everywhere as good as she is and far better, too. Then, descending to particulars, one remarks one defect and another another, nor were there wanting some who considered her perfectly ugly. As, however, no one thought of telling Renzo these things to his face, so far there was no great harm done. They who really did harm, they who widened the breach, were some persons who reported them to him. And Renzo, what else could be expected, took them very much to heart. He began to muse upon them and to make them matters of discussion, both with those who talked to him on the subject and more at length in his own mind. What does it matter to you and who told you to expect anything? Did I ever talk to you about her? Did I ever tell you she was beautiful? And when you asked me if she was, did I ever say anything in answer but that she was a good girl? She's a peasant. Did I ever tell you that I would bring you here a princess? She displeases you. Don't look at her, then. You have some beautiful women, look at them. Only look how a trifle may sometimes suffice to decide a man's state for his whole life. Had Renzo been obliged to spend his in that neighborhood agreeably to his first intentions, he would have got on but very badly. From being himself displeased, he had now become displeasing. He was on bad terms with everybody, because everybody might be one of Lucia's criticizers. Not that he actually offended against civility, but we know how many sly things may be done without transgressing the rules of common politeness, quite sufficient to give vent to one's spleen. There was something sardonic in his whole behavior. He, too, found something to criticize in everything. If only there were two successive days of bad weather, he would immediately say, I indeed, in this country. In short, I may say he was already only born with by a certain number of persons, even by those who had at first wished him well. And in course of time, from one thing to another, he would have gone on till he had found himself, so to say, in a state of hostility with almost the whole population, without being able, probably himself, to assign the primary cause or ascertain the root which such an evil had sprung. But it might be said that the plague had undertaken to amend all Renzow's errors. That scourge had carried off the owner of another silk mill situated almost at the gates of Baragmo. And the heir, a disillute young fellow, finding nothing in this edifice that could afford him any diversion, proposed, or rather was anxious, to dispose of it, even at half its value. But he wanted the money down upon the spot, that he might instantly expend it with unproductive prodigality. The matter having come to Bortolo's ears, he immediately went to see it, tried to treat about it. A more advantageous bargain could not have been hoped for. But that condition of ready money spoiled all, because his whole property, slowly made up out of his savings, was still far from reaching the required sum. Leaving the question therefore still open, he returned in haste, communicated the affair to his cousin, and proposed to take it in partnership. So capital and agreement cut short all Renzow's economical dubitations, so that he quickly decided upon business, and complied with the proposal. They went together, and the bargain was concluded. When, then, the new owners came to live upon their own possessions, Lucia, who was here expected by no one, not only did not go thither subjected to criticisms, but, we may say, was not displeasing to anybody, and Renzow found out that it had been said by more than one, have you seen that pretty she blockhead who has come hither? The substantive was allowed to pass in the epithet. And even from the annoyance he had experienced in the other country, he derived some useful instruction. Before that time, he had been rather inconsiderate in criticizing other people's wives, and all belonging to them. Now he understood that words make one impression in the mouth, and another in the ear. And he accustomed himself rather more to listen within to his own, before uttering them. We must not, however, suppose that he had no little vaccinations even here. Man, says our anonymous author, and we already know by experience that he had rather a strange pleasure in drawing similes, but bear with it this once for it is likely to be the last time. Man, so long as he is in this world, is like a sick person lying upon a bed more or less uncomfortable, who sees around him other beds nicely made to outward appearance, smoothened level, and fancies that they must be most comfortable resting places. He succeeds in making an exchange, but barely is he placed in another before he begins, as he presses it down to feel in one place a sharp point pricking him in another a hard lump. In short, we come to almost the same story over again. And for this reason, adds he, we ought to aim rather at doing well than being well. And thus we should come in the end even to be better. This sketch, though somewhat parabolic and in the style of the 17th century, is in substance true. However, continues he again, our good friends had no longer any sorrows and troubles of similar kind and severity to those we have related. Their life was, from this time forward, one of the calmest, happiest, and most enviable of lives. So that, were I obliged to give an account of it, it would tire the reader to death. Business went on capitally. At the beginning, there was a little difficulty from the scarcity of workmen and from the ill conduct and pretensions of the few that still remained. Orders were published, which limited the price of labor. In spite of this help, things rallied again. Because after all, how could it be otherwise? Another rather more judicious order arrived from Venice, exemption for 10 years from all charges, civil and personal, for foreigners who would come to reside in the state. To our friends, this was another advantage. Before the first year of their marriage was completed, a beautiful little creature came to light. And as if it had been made on purpose to give Renzo an early opportunity of fulfilling that magnanimous promise of his, it was a little girl. It may be believed that it was named Maria. Afterwards, in the course of time, came I know not how many others of both sexes. And Agnese was busy enough in carrying them about, one after the other, calling them little robes, and imprinting upon their faces hardy kisses, which left a white mark for ever so long afterwards. They were all very well inclined, and Renzo would have them all learn to read and write, saying that since this amusement was in fashion, they ought at least to take advantage of it. The finest thing was to hear him relate his adventures, and he always finished by enumerating the great things he had learned from them for the better government of himself in future. I've learned, he would say, not to meddle in disturbances. I've learned not to make speeches in the street. I've learned not to drink more than I want. I've learned not to hold the knocker of a door in my hand when crazy-headed people are about. And I've learned not to buckle a little bell to my foot before thinking of the consequences, and a hundred other things. Lucia did not find fault with the doctrine itself, but she was not satisfied with it. It seemed to her in a confused way that something was still wanting to it, by dint of hearing the same song over and over again and meditating on it every time. And I, said she one day to her moralizer, what ought I to have learned? I did not go to look for troubles. It was they that came to look for me. Though you wouldn't say, added she, smiling sweetly, that my error was in wishing you well and promising myself to you. So at first was quite puzzled. After a long discussion and inquiry together, they concluded that troubles certainly often arise from occasion afforded by ourselves, but that the most cautious and blameless conduct cannot secure us from them, and that, when they come, whether by our own fault or not, confidence in God alleviates them and makes them conducive to a better life. This conclusion, though come to by poor people, seemed to us so just and right that we have resolved to put it here as the moral of our whole story. If this same story has given the reader any pleasure, he must thank the anonymous author and in some measure his reviser for the gratification. But if instead we have only succeeded in rearing him, he may rest assured that we did not do so on purpose. End of Chapter 38 Part 2 End of The Betrothed by Alessandro Monsoni