 Chapter 54 of The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reed This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham When she recovered, her head was on Catherine's arm, and the honest half of the family she had invaded like a foe stood round her uttering rough homely words of encouragement, especially Giles, who roared at her that she was not to take on like that. Gerard was alive and well, or he could not have writ this letter the biggest mankind had seen as yet, and, as he thought, the beautifulest and most moving and smallest writ. I, good Master Giles, sighed Margaret Feebley, he was alive, but how know I what hath since befallen him? Oh, why left he Holland to go among strangers fierce as lions, and why did I not drive him from me sooner than part him from his own flesh and blood? Forgive me, you that are his mother. She gently removed Catherine's arm, and made a feeble attempt to slide off the chair onto her knees, which, after a brief struggle with superior force, ended in her finding herself on Catherine's bottom. Then Margaret held out the letter to Eli, and said faintly but sweetly, I will trust it from my hand now. In sooth I am little fit to read any more, and loath to leave my comfort. And she reathed her other arm round Catherine's neck. Read thou, Richard, said Eli, thine eyes be younger than mine. Well, said he, such writing so I never. A righteth with a needle's point, and clear to boot, why is he not in my counting-house at Amsterdam instead of vagabonding it out yonder? When I came to myself, I was seated in the litter, and my good merchant holding of my hand. I babbled I know not what, and then shuddered a while in silence. He put a horn of wine to my lips. Catherine, bless him, bless him, Eli wished. And I told him what had befallen. He would see my leg. It was sprained, sore, and swelled at the ankle, and all my points were broken as I could scarce keep up my hose. And I said, Sir, I shall be but a burden to you, I doubt. And can make you no harmony now. My poor sultry it is broken. And I did grieve over my broken music, companion of so many weary leagues. But he patted me on the cheek, and barred me not fret. Also, he did put up my leg on a pillow, and tended me like a kind father. January 19 I sit all day in the litter, for we are pushing forward with haste, and at night the good, kind merchant sendeth me to bed, and will not let me work. Strange! When ere I fall in with men like fiends, then the next moment God still sendeth me some good man or woman, lest I should turn away from humankind. Oh, Margaret, how strangely mixed they be, and how old I am by what I was three months ago, and lo, if good master Fugger had not been and bought me a sultry! Catherine, Eli, my man, and young merchant comes our way, let us buy a hundred elves of cloth of him and not higgle. Eli, that will I take your oath on't. While Richard prepared to read, Kate looked at her mother, and with a faint blush drew out the piece of work from under her apron, and sewed with head depressed a little more than necessary. On this her mother drew a piece of work out of her pocket, and sewed too, while Richard read. Both the specimens, these sweet surreptitious creatures now first exposed to observation, were baby's caps, and more than half finished, which told a tale. Horror! They were like little monk's cowls in shape and delicacy. January 20. Laid up in the litter, and as good as blind but halting to bait, Lombardy planes burst on me. Oh, Margaret, a land flowing with milk and honey, all sloping plains, goodly rivers, jockoned meadows, delectable orchards, and blooming gardens, and the winter looks warmer than poor beloved Holland at mid-summer, and makes the wanderer's face to shine, and his heart to leap for joy to see earth so kind and smiling. Here be vines, cedars, olives, and cattle plenty, but three goats to a sheep. The draft oxen wear white linen on their necks, and standing by dark green olive trees each one is a picture, and the folk, especially women, wear delicate, strong hearts with flowers and leaves fairly imitated in silk with silver mixed. This day we crossed a river prettily in a chained ferry boat. On either bank was a windlass, and a single man by turning of it drew our whole company to his shore, whereat I did admire being a stranger. Passed over with us some country folk, and an old woman looking at a young wench, she didn't hide her face with her hand, and held her crucifix out like knight's sword in tourney, dreading the evil eye. January 25. Safe at Venice A place whose strange and passing beauty is well known to thee by report of our mariners. Dust-mind, too, how Peter would oft fill our ears with all we handed beneath the table, and he still discoursing of this sea-enthroned and peerless city, in shape a bow and its great canal and palaces on piles, and its watery ways plied by scores of gilded boats, and that marketplace of nations, Orbis, Non-Urbis, Forum, Saint Mark, his place, and his stache with the peerless jewels in his eyes, and the lion at his gate. But I, lying at my window in pain, may see none of these beauties as yet, but only a street, fairly paved, which is dull, and houses with oiled paper and linen in lieu of glass, which is rude, and the passers-by, their habits and their gestures, wherein they are superfluous. Therefore, not to miss my daily comfort of whispering to thee, I will in turn mine eyes inward and bind my sheaves of wisdom reaped by travel. For I love thee so that no treasure pleases me not shared with thee, and what treasure so good and enduring as knowledge. This, then, have I, so futso, learned, that each nation hath its proper wisdom, and its proper folly, and me thinks, could a great king or duke trample like me, and see with his own eyes he might pick the flowers and estue the weeds of nations, and go home and set his own folk on Wisdom's hill. The Germans in the north were churlish, but frank and honest. In the south, kindly and honest, too. Their general blot is drunkenness, for which they carry even to mislike and contempt of sober men. They say commonly, Kannst du nicht saufen und fressen, so kannst du keinem Herrn wohl dienen. In England the vulgar sort drink as deep, but the worshipful hold excess in this a reproach, and drink a health or two for courtesy, not gluttony, and still sugar the wine. In their cups the Germans use little mirth or discourse, but ply the business sadly, crying, Seite frohlich! The best of their drunken sport is Kullemühlehof, a way of drinking with touching deftly of the glass, the beard, the table, in due turn, intermixed with whistlings and snappings of the finger, so curiously ordered as to his a labour of Hercules, but to the beholder right-pleasant and mirthful. Their topers, by advice of German leeches, sleep with pebbles in their mouths, for, as of a boiling pot, the lid must be set ajar, so with these fleshy wine-pots to vent the heat of their inward parts, spite of which many die suddenly from drink, but is a matter of religion to slur it, and glows it, and charge some innocent disease therewith. Yet tis more accustomed than very nature, for their women come among the tiplas, and do but stand a moment, and as it were, kiss the wine-cup, and are indeed most temperate in eating and drinking, and of all women, modest and virtuous, and true spouses and friends to their mates, far before our holland-glasses, that being maids, put the question to the men, and being wived, do lord it over them. Why, there is a wife in Targu, not far from our door. One came to the house, and sought her man, says she, you'll not find him. He asked my leave to go abroad this afternoon, and I did give it him. Catherine, tis sooth, tis sooth, tis Bechholz, Jonah's wife, this comes of a woman wedding a boy. In the south, where wine is, the gentry drink themselves bare, but not in the north, for with beer and noble shall sooner burst his body than melt his lands. They are quarrelsome, but tis the liquor, not the mind, for they are non-revengeful, and when they have made a bad bargain drunk, they stand to it sober. They keep their windows bright, and judge a man by his clothes. Whatever fruit or grain or herb grows by the roadside, gather and eat. The owner seeing you shall say, art welcome, honest man. But any pluck away-side grape, your very life is in jeopardy. Tis eating of that heaven gave to be drunken. The French are much fairer spoken, and not nigh so true-hearted. Sweet words cost them naught. They call it paix en blanche. Deny les coquins, ho-ho! Nevertheless, courtesy is in their hearts, I in their very blood. They say commonly, give yourself the trouble of sitting down, and such straws of speech show how blows the wind. Also at a public show, if you would leave your seat, yet not lose it, tie but your napkin round the bench, and no French man or woman will sit there, but rather keep the place for you. Catherine, grump mercy! That is manners! France for me! Deny rose and placed his hand gracefully to his breastplate. Nevertheless they say things in sport which are not courteous, but shocking. Le diable t'emporte, allez au diable, and so forth. But I throw they mean not such dreadful wishes, custom be like. Moderate in drinking, and mix water with their wine, and sing and dance over their cups, and are then enchanting company. They are curious not to drink in another man's cup. In war the English gain the better of them in the field, but the French are their masters in attack and defence of cities. Witness Orléans, where they besieged their besiegers, and hashed them sore with their double and treble culverines, and many other sieges in this hour century. More than all nations they flatter their women, and despise them. No, she may be their sovereign ruler. Also they often hang their female malefactors instead of drowning them decently as other nations use. The furniture in their inns is walnut. In Germany only deal. French windows are ill. The lower half is of wood and opens, the upper half is of glass but fixed, so that the servant cannot come at it to clean it. The German windows are all glass and movable, and shine far and near like diamonds. In France many mean houses are not glazed at all. Once I saw a Frenchman pass a church without unbonneting. This I ne'er witnessed in Holland, Germany or Italy. At many inns they show the traveller his sheets to give him assurance they are clean, and warm them at the fire before him, a lordable custom. They receive him kindly and like a guest. They mostly cheat him and whilst cut his throat. They plead an excuse hard and tyrannous laws, and true it is their law thrusters its nose into every platter and its finger into every pie. In France worshipful men wear their hats and their furs indoors and go abroad light a clad. In Germany they don hat and furred cloak to go abroad, but sit bare headed and light clad round the stove. The French intermix not the men and women folk in assemblies as we Hollanders use. Round their preachers the women sit on their heels in rows, and the men stand behind them. Their harvests are rye and flax and wine. Three mules shall you see to one horse and hold flocks of sheep as black as coal. In Germany the snails be red, I lie not. The French buy minstrelsy but breed jests and make their own mirth. The Germans foster their set fools with ear cups which move them to laughter by simulating madness, a calamity that asks pity not laughter. In this particular I deem that lighter nation wiser than the graver German. What says thou? Alas, can't not answer me now. In Germany the petty laws are wondrous wise and just. Those against criminals bloody. In France bloody are still and executed a trifle more cruelly there. Here the wheel is common, and the fiery stake, and under this king they drown men by the score in Paris River Sennichlept. But the English are as peremptory in hanging and drowning for a light fault so travellers report. Finally a true hearted Frenchman, when ye chance on one, is a man as near perfect as earth affords, and such a man is my Denis, spite of his foul mouth. Denis, my foul mouth, is that so, rate, Master Richard? Richard, I insoothe, see else. Denis, inspecting the letter gravely, I read not the letter so. Richard, how then? Denis, humph, ahem, why just the contrary. He added, his kitle-work perusing of these black scratchers men are agreed to take for words, and I trow to still by guess you clerks to go worthy, sir. My foul mouth, this is the first time ere I heard on't. Eh, madame! But the females did not seize the opportunity he gave them, and burst into a loud and general disclaimer. Margaret blushed and said nothing. The other two bent silently over their work with something very like a sly smile. Denis inspected their countenance as long and carefully, and the perusal was so satisfactory that he turned with a tone of injured but patient innocence. And, bad Richard, read on. The Italians are appolished and subtle people. They judge a man not by his habits, but his speech and gesture. Here, such off, may by no means pass for fault and gentle, as did I in Germany, pranked in my noble servant's feathers. Wisest of all nations in their singular temperance of food and drink. Most foolish of all to search strangers coming into their borders and stay them from bringing much money in. They would rather invite it, and, like other nations, let the traveller from taking of it out. Also, here in Venice the dames turn their black hair yellow by the sun and art to be wiser than him who made them. They enter no Italian town without a bill of health, though now is no plague in Europe. This peevishness is for extortion's sake. The innkeepers cringe and fawn and cheat, and in country places murder you. Yet will they give you clean sheets by paying, therefore? Delicate in eating, and abhor from putting their hand in the plate. Sooner they will apply a crust or what not. They do even tell of a cardinal at Rome which armeth his guests left hand with a little bifurcle dagger to hold the meat while his knife cuteth it. But me thinks this, too, is to be wiser than him who made the hand so supple and prehensile. Eli, I am of your mind, my lad. They are sore troubled with the itch, and ointment for it, un giuento per la rogna, is cried at every corner of Venice. From this my window I saw an urchin sell it to three several dames in silken trains and to two velvet knights. Catherine, Italy, my lass, I read you wash your body in the tub of Sundays and then you can put your hand in the plate to Thursday without an offence. Their bread is lovely white. Their meats they spoil with sprinkling cheese over them. Oh, perversity! Their salt is black without a lie. In commerce these Venetians are masters of the earth and sea and govern their territories wisely. Only one flaw I find. The same I once heard a learned friar cast up against Plato, his Republic, to it that here women are encouraged to venal frailty and to pay attacks to the state which, not content with silk and spice and other rich and honest frates, good store must trade in sin. Twenty thousand of these Jezebel's there be in Venice and Candia and about, pampered and honoured for bringing strangers to the city and many live in princely palaces of their own. But herein me thinks the politic seniors of Venice forget what King David saith, accept the Lord keep the city, the watchman wakeeth but in vain. Also in religion they hang their cloth according to the wind siding now with the pope and now with the Turk but I with the God of traders mammon height. Shall flowers so cankered bloom to the world's end? But since I speak of flowers this none may deny them, that they are most cunning in making roses and gilly flowers to blow unseasonably and in summer they nip certain of the budding roses and water them not, then in winter they dig round these discouraged plants and put in cloves and so with great art rear sweet-centred roses and bring them to market in January and did first learn this art of a cow. Buds she grazed in summer and they sprouted at Yule. Women have sat in the doctor's chairs at their colleges but she that sat in St. Peter's was a German. Italy too for artful fountains and figures that move by water and enact life and next for fountains is Augsburg where they harness the foul-nave smoke to good sir spit and he turneth stout master roast but lest any one place should vaunt two towns there be in Europe which scorning giddy fountains bring water tame in pipes to every burger's door and he filleth his vessels with but turning of a cock. One is London so watered this many a year by pipes of a league from Paddington a neighbouring city and the other is the fair town of Lubeck. Also the fierce English are reported to me wise in that they will not share their land and flocks with wolves but a fairly driven those marauders into their mountains but neither in France nor Germany nor Italy is a wayfarer's life safe from the vagabonds after sundown. I can hear of no glazed house in all Venice but only oiled linen and paper and behind these barbarian islets a wooden jalousy. Their name for a cowardly assassin is a brave man and for an harlot a courteous person which is as much as to say that a woman's worst vice and a man's worst vice are virtues but I pray God for little Holland that there an assassin may be eclept an assassin and an harlot and harlot till doomsday and then glows foul faults with silken names who can. Eli with a sigh he should have been a priest saving your presence my poor lass. January 26 Sweetheart I must be brief and tell thee but a part of that I have seen for this day my journal ends Tonight it sails for thee and I unhappy not with it but to-morrow in another ship to Rome Dear Margaret I took a hand-litter and was carried to St. Marcus Church Outside it towards the marketplace is a noble gallery and above it four famous horses cut in brass by the ancient Romans and seem all moving and at the very next step must needs leap down on the beholder About the church are six hundred pillars of marble, porphyry and ophites Inside is a treasure greater than either at Sandini or Loretto or Toledo Here a jeweled picture given the scenery by a Persian king also the ducal cap blazing with jewels and on its crown a diamond and a chrysolite each as big as an almond Two golden crowns and twelve golden stomacus studded with jewels from Constantinople Item a monstrous sapphire item a great diamond given by a French king item a prodigious carbuncle item three unicorns horns what are these compared with the sacred relics Dear Margaret I student saw the brazen chest that holds the body of St. Mark the evangelist I saw with these eyes and handled his ring and his gospel written with his own hand and all my travels seemed light for who am I that I should see such things Dear Margaret his sacred body was first brought from Alexandria by merchants in 810 and then not prized us now for between 829 when this church was build and 1094 the very place where it lay was forgotten Then holy priests fasted and prayed many days seeking for light and lo the evangelist's body break at midnight through the marble and stood before them They fell to the earth but in the morning found the crevice the sacred body had burst through and peering through it saw him lie Then they took and laid him in his chest beneath the altar and carefully put back the stone with its miraculous crevice which crevice I saw and she'll gape for a monument while the world lasts After that they showed me the virgin's chair it is of stone also her picture painted by St. Luke very dark and the features now scarce visible This picture in time of drought they carry in procession and brings the rain I wish I had not seen it Item two pieces of marble spotted with John the Baptist's blood Item a piece of the true cross and of the pillar to which Christ was tied Item the rock struck by Moses and wet to this hour also a stone Christ sat on preaching at tire but some say it is the one the patriarch Jacob laid his head on with them by reason our Lord never preached at tire Going hence they showed me the state nursery for the children of those aphrodisian dames their favorites here in the outer wall was a broad niche and if they bring them so little as they can squeeze them through it alive the band falls into a net inside and the state takes charge of it but if too big their mothers must even take them home again with whom abiding is like to be Mali Corvi Mali ovum Coming out of the church we met them carrying in a corpse with the feet and face bare This I then first learned his Venetian custom and sure no other town will ever rob them of it nor of this that follows on a great porphyry slab in the piazza were three ghastly heads rotting and tainting the air and in their hot summers like to take vengeance with breeding of a plague these were traitors to the state and a heavy price two thousand duckets being put on each head their friends had slain them and brought all three to the slab and so sold blood of others and their own faith no state buys head so many nor pays half so high a price for that sorry merchandise but what I most admired was to see over against the duke's palace a fair gallows in alabaster reared express to bring him and no other for the last treason to the state and there it stands in his eye whispering him memento mori I pondered and owned these seniors my masters who will let no man not even their sovereign be above the common wheel hard by on a wall the workmen were just finishing by order the sanary the stone effigy of a tragical and enormous act enacted last year yet on the wall looks innocent here two gentle folks whisper together and there are the twain their swords by their side four brethren were they which did on either side conspire to poison the other two and so halve their land in lieu of quartering it and at a mutual banquet these twain drugged the wine and those twain envenomed a march pain to such good purpose that the same afternoon lay four brave men around one table grovelling in mortal agony and cursing of one another and themselves and so concluded miserably and the land for which they had lost their immortal souls went into another family and why not it could not go into a worse but oh sovereign wisdom of bywords how true they put the finger on each nation's or particulars fall con italy sera son poison et france son trahison et l'angletaire sangueur l'or sera le monde son terre Richard explained this to Catherine then proceeded and after this they took me to the key and presently I aspired among the masts one garlanded with amaranth flowers take me there said I and I let my guide know the custom of our Dutch skippers to hoist flowers to the mast head when they are courting a maid oft had I scoffed at this saying so then his wooing is the earth's concern but now so far from the rotter that bunch at a mast head made my heart leap with assurance of a countryman they carried me and oh Margaret on the stern of that Dutch boy was written in muckle letters Richard Eliasson Amsterdam put me down I said for our lady's sake put me down I sat on the bank and looked scarce believing my eyes and looked and presently felt a crying till I could see the words no more oh me how they went to my heart those bare letters in a foreign land dear Richard good kind brother Richard often I have sat on his knee and rid on his back kisses many he has given me unkind word from him had I never and there was his name on his own ship at his face and all his grave but good and gentle ways came back to me and I sobbed vehemently and cried aloud why why is not brother Richard here and not his name only I spake in touch for my heart was too full to hold their foreign tongues and Eli well Richard go on lad pretty go on is this a place to halt at Richard father with my duty to you it is easy to say go on but thinking I am not flesh and blood the poor boys simple grief and brotherly love coming so sudden on me they go through my heart and I cannot go on sink me if I can even see the words tis writ so fine to me courage good master Richard take your time there are more I'm the wet than yours a little comrade would God thou word here and I at Venice for the Richard poor little curly headed lad what had he done that we have driven him so far that is what I would feign no said Catherine dry Lee then fell to weeping and rocking herself with her apron over her head kind day good friends said Margaret trembling let me tell you how the letter ends the skipper hearing our Gerard speakers grief in Dutch accosted him and speak comfortably to him and after a while our Gerard found breath to say he was worthy master Richard's brother there out was the good skipper all a gog to serve him Richard so so skipper master Richard a fore said we'll be at thy wedding and brings purse to boot Margaret sir he told Gerard of his consort that was to sail that very night for Rotterdam and dear Gerard had to go home and finish his letter and bring it to the ship and the rest it is but his poor dear words of love to me the which and please you I think shame to hear them read aloud and ends with the lines I sent to mistress Kate and they would sound so harsh now and ungrateful the pleading tone as much as the words prevailed and Richard said he would read no more allowed but run his eye over it for his own brotherly satisfaction she blushed and looked uneasy but made no reply Eli said Catherine still sobbing a little tell me for our lady's sake how our poor boy is to live at that nasty Rome he has gone there to write but here he his own words to prove writing avails not I had died a hunger by the way but for paintbrush and sultry well a day well said Eli he has got brush and music still besides so many men so many minds writing though it had no sale in other parts maybe merchandise at Rome father said little Kate have I your good leave to put in my word twix mother and you and welcome little hard then seems to me painting and music close at hand be stronger than writing but being distant not to compare for see what glamour written paper has done here but now our Gerald writing at Venice have verily put his hand into this room at Rotterdam and turned all our hearts I dear dear Gerald me thinks thy spirit hath rid hither on these type paper wings and oh dear father why not do as we should do were he here in the body Kate said Eli fear not Richard and I will give him glamour for glamour we will write him a letter and send it to Rome by a sure hand with money and bid him home on the instant Cornelis and Cybrandt exchanged a gloomy look ah good father and meantime well meantime dear father dear mother what can we do to pleasure the absent but be kind to his poor lass and her own trouble for her as well said Eli but I am older than now and he turned gravely to Margaret will answer me a question my pretty mistress if I may sir faulted Margaret what are these marriage lines Gerald speaks of in the letter our marriage lines sir his and mine know you not that we are betrothed before witnesses I sure my poor father and Martin Wittenhagen this is the first I ever heard of it how came they in his hands they should be in yours alas sir the more is my grief but I never doubted him and he said it was a comfort to him to have them in his bosom you are a very foolish lass indeed I was sir but trouble teaches the simple it is a good answer well foolish or no you're honest I had shown you more respect at first but I thought you had been his Lehman and that is the truth God forbid sir didn't he me thinks it's time for us to go give me my letter sir by G by G be not so hot for a word nonetheless wife me thinks her red cheek becomes her better than it did you to give it her my man better than it did you to give it her my man softly wife softly I am not counted an unjust man though I'd be somewhat slow here rich aren't broken why mistress did you shed your blood for our Gerald not I sir but maybe I would nay nay but he says you did speak sooth now alas I know not what you mean I read you believe not all that my poor lad says of me love makes him blind traitors cried the knee let her not throw dust in my eyes master Richard old Martin tells me you need not make signals to me she comrade I am as blind as love Martin tells me she cut her arm and let her blood flow and smeared her heels when Gerald was hunted by the bloodhounds to turn the scent from her lad well and and if I did it was my own and spilt for the good of my own said Margaret defiantly but Catherine suddenly clasping her she began to cry at having found a bosom to cry on of one of one who would have also shed her blood for Gerald in danger Eli rose from his chair wife said he solemnly you will set another chair at our table for every meal also another plate and knife they will be for Margaret and Peter she will come when she likes and stay away when she pleases none may take her place at my left hand such as can welcome her or welcome to me such as cannot I force them not to abide with me the world is wide and free within my walls I am master and my sons betrothed is welcome Catherine bustled out to prepare supper Eli and Richard sat down and concocted a letter to bring Gerald home Richard promised it should go by sea to Rome that very week Cybrant and Cornelus exchanged a gloomy wink and stole out Margaret seeing Giles deep in meditation for the Dwarf's intelligence had taken giant strides asked him to bring her the letter you have heard but half good master Giles said she shall I read you the rest I shall much beholden to you shouted the sonorous atom she gave him her stool curiosity bowed his pride to sit on it and Margaret murmured the first part of the letter into his ear very low not to disturb Eli and Richard and to do this she leaned forward and put her lovely face cheek by jowl with Giles's hideous one a strange contrast and worth a painter's while to try and represent and in this attitude Catherine found her and all the mother warmed towards her and she exchanged an eloquent glance with little Kate the letter smiled and soared with drooping lashes get him home on the instant Rod Giles I'll make a man of him hear the boy said Catherine half comically half proudly we hear him said Richard mostly makes himself heard when I do speak Cybrant which will get to him first Cornelius gloomily who can tell end of chapter 54 recording by Tom Denham Chapter 55 of The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reid this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Tom Denham about two months before this scene in Eli's home the natives of a little maritime place between Naples and Rome might be seen flocking to the sea beach with eyes cast seaward at a ship that laboured against the stiff gale blowing dead on the shore at times she seemed likely to weather the danger and then the spectators congratulated her aloud at others the wind and sea drove her visibly nearer and the lookers on were not without a secret satisfaction they would not have owned even to themselves nonchia vexari quenquam estioconda valoptas said quibus ipsi malis cariaschia cienere suave est and the poor ship though not scientifically built for sailing was admirably constructed for going ashore with her extravagant poop that caught the wind and her lines like a cocked heart reversed to those on the beach that battered labouring frame of wood seemed alive and struggling against death with a panting heart but could they have been transferred to her deck they would have seen she had not one beating heart but many and not one nature but a score were coming out clear in that fearful hour the mariners stumbled wildly about the deck handling the ropes as each thought fit and cursing and praying alternately the passengers were huddled together around the mast some sitting, some kneeling, some lying prostrate and grasping the bulwarks as the vessel rolled and pitched in the mighty waves one comely young man whose ashi cheek but compressed lips showed how hard terror was battling in him with self-respect stood a little apart holding tight by a shroud and wincing at each sea it was the ill-fated Gerard meantime prayers and vows rose from the trembling throng amidships and to hear them it seemed there were almost as many gods about as men and women the sailors indeed relied on a single goddess they varied her titles only calling on her as Queen of Heaven, Star of the Sea, Mistress of the World, Haven of Safety but among the landsmen polytheism raged even those who by some strange chance hit on the same divinity did not hit on the same edition of that divinity an English merchant vowed a heap of gold to Our Lady of Walsingham but a Genoese merchant vowed a silver collar of four pounds to Our Lady of Loretto and a Tuscan noble promised ten pounds of waxed lights to Our Lady of Ravenna and with a similar rage for diversity they pledged themselves not on the true cross but on the true cross in this, that or the other modern city suddenly a more powerful gust than usual catching the sail at a disadvantage the rotten shrouds gave way and the sail was torn out with a loud crack and went down the wind smaller and smaller blacker and blacker and flooded into the sea half a mile off like a sheet of paper and ere the helmsmen could put the ship's head before the wind a wave quarter on the quarter and drenched the poor wretches to the bone and gave them a foretaste of chill death then one vowed aloud to turn Carthusian monk if St. Thomas would save him another would go a pilgrim to Compostella bare-headed, bare-footed with nothing but a coat of mail on his naked skin if St. James would save him others invoked Thomas, Dominic, Denis and above all Catherine of Siena two petty Neapolitan traders stood shivering one shouted at the top of his voice I vowed to St. Christopher at Paris a wax and image of his own weight if I win safe to land on this the other nudged him and said brother, brother, take heed what thou vow why if you sell all you have in the world by public auction will not buy his weight in wax hold your tongue you fool said the vociferator then in a whisper think ye I'm in earnest let me but win safe to land I'll not give him a rush dip others lay flat and prayed to the sea oh most merciful sea oh sea most generous oh bountiful sea oh beautiful sea be gentle be kind preserve us in this hour of peril and others wailed and moaned in mere animal terror each time the ill-fated ship rolled or pitched more terribly than usual and she was now a mere plaything in the arms of the tremendous waves a Roman woman of the humbler class sat with her child at her half-bared breast silent amid that wailing throng her cheek ashy pale her eye calm and her lips moved at times in silent prayer but she neither wept nor lamented nor bargained with the gods whenever the ship seemed really gone under their feet and bearded men squeaked she kissed her child but that was all and so she sat patient and suckled him in death's jaws for why should he lose any joy she could give him moribundo I there I do believe sat antiquity among those medievals sixteen hundred years had not tainted the old Roman blood in her veins and the instinct of her race she had perhaps scarce heard of taught her to die with decent dignity a gigantic fryer stood on the poop with feet apart like the colossus of roads not so much defying as ignoring the peril that surrounded him he recited verses from the canticles with a loud unwavering voice and invited the passengers to confess to him some did so on their knees and he heard them and laid his hands on them and absolved them as if he had been in a snug sacristy instead of a perishing ship Gerard got nearer and nearer to him by the instinct that takes the wavering to the side of the impregnable and in truth the courage of heroes facing fleshly odds might have paled by the side of that gigantic fryer and his still more gigantic composure thus even here two were found who maintained the dignity of our race a woman tender yet heroic and a monk steeled by religion against mortal fears and now the sail being gone the sailors cut down the useless mast a foot above the board and it fell with its remaining hamper over the ship's side this seemed to relieve her a little but now the hull no longer impelled by canvas could not keep ahead of the sea it struck her again on the poop and the tremendous blows seemed given by a rocky mountain not by a liquid the captain left the helm and came amid ships pale as death lighten her he cried fling all overboard or we shall found her air we strike and lose the one little chance we have of life while the sailors were executing this order the captain pale himself and surrounded by pale faces that demanded to know their fate was talking as unlike an English skipper in like peril as can well be imagined friend said he last night when all was fair too fair alas there came a globe of fire close to the ship when a pair of them come it is good luck and nought can drown her that voyage we mariners call these fiery globes castor and pollocks but if castor come without pollocks or pollocks without castor she is doomed therefore like good Christians prepare to die these words were received with a loud wail to a trembling inquiry how long they had to prepare the captain replied she may or may not last half an hour over that impossible she leaks like a sieve bustle men lighten her the poor passengers seized on everything that was on deck and flung it overboard presently they laid hold of a heavy sack an old man was lying on it seasick they lugged it from under him it rattled two of them drew it to the side up started the owner and with an unearthly shriek pounced on it holy moses what would you do what is my all tis the whole fruits of my journey silver candlestick silver plates broachers and ups let go thou hoary villain cried the others shall all our lives be lost for thy ill-gotten gear fling him in with it cried one tis this ebrew we Christian men are drowned for numbers soon wrenched it from him and heaved it over the side it splashed into the waves then its owner uttered one cry of anguish and stood glaring his white hair streaming in the wind and was going to leap after it and wood had it floated but it sank and was gone for ever and he staggered to and fro tearing his hair and cursed them and the ship and the sea and all the powers of heaven and now the captain cried out see there is a church in sight steer for that church mate and you friends pray to the saint where he be so they steered for the church and prayed to the unknown god it was named after a tremendous sea pooped them broke the rudder and jammed it immovable and flooded the deck then wild with superstitious terror some of them came round gerrod here is the cause of all they cried he has never invoked a single saint he is a heathen here is a pagan aboard alas good friends say not so said gerrod his teeth chattering with cold and fear rather call these heathens that liar praying to the sea friends I do honour the saints but I dare not pray to them now there is no time oh what a veil me dominic and thomas and catherine nearer gods thrown than these st peter siteth and if I pray to him it's odd but I shall be drowned ere he has time to plead my cause with god oh oh oh I must need go straight to him that made the sea our father which art in heaven save these poor souls and me that cry for the bare life oh sweet jesus pitiful jesus that didst walk genesaret when peter sank and wept for lazarus dead when the apostles eyes were dry oh save poor gerrod for dear margaret's sake at this moment the sailors were seen preparing to desert the sinking ship in the little boat which even at that epoch every ship carried then there was a rush of egetists and thirty souls crowded into it remained behind three who were bewildered and two who were paralysed with terror the paralysed sat like heaps of wet rags the bewildered ones ran to and fro and saw the thirty egetists in their attempt to join them only kept running to and fro and ringing their hands besides these there was one on his knees praying over the wooden statue of the virgin mary as large as life which the sailors had reverently detached from the mast it washed about the deck as the water came slushing in from the sea and pouring out at the scuppers and this poor soul sat on his knees with his hands clasped at it and the water playing with it and there was the Jew palsied but not by fear he was no longer capable of so petty a passion he sat cross-legged bemoaning his bag and whenever the spray lashed him shook his fist at where it came from and cursed the Nazarenes and their gods and their devils to all eternity and the gigantic Dominican having shriven the whole ship stood calmly communing with his own spirit and the Roman woman sat pale and patient only drawing her child closer to her bosom as death came nearer Gerard saw this and it awakened his manhood see see he said they have tamed the boat and left the poor woman and her child to perish his heart soon set his wit working wife I'll save thee yet please God and he round to find a cask or a plank to float her there was none then his eye fell on the wooden image of the virgin he caught it up in his arms and heedless of a whale that issued from its worshipper like a child robbed of its toy ran aft with it come wife he cried I'll lash thee and the child to this to saw worm eaten but twill serve she turned her great dark eye on him and said a single word thyself but with wonderful magnanimity and tenderness I am a man and have no child to take care of I said she and his words seem to animate her face with a desire to live he lashed the image to her side then with the hope of life she lost something of her heroic calm not much her body trembled a little but not her eye the ship was now so low in the water that by using an oar as a lever he could slide her into the waves come said he while yet there is time she turned her great Roman eyes wet now upon him poor youth God forgive me my child and he launched her on the surge and with his oar kept her from being battered against the ship a heavy hand fell on him a deep sonorous voice sounded in his ear did as well now come with me it was the gigantic friar Gerard turned and the friar took two strides and laid hold of the broken mast Gerard did the same obeying him instinctively between them after a prodigious effort they hoisted up the remainder of the mast and carried it off fling it in said the friar and follow it they flung it in but one of the bewildered passengers had run after them and jumped first and got on one end Gerard seized the other the friar the middle it was a terrible situation the mast rose and plunged with each wave like a kicking horse and the spray flogged their faces mercilessly and blinded them to help knock them off presently was heard a long grating noise ahead the ship had struck and soon after she being stationary now they were hurled against her with tremendous force their companion's head struck against the upper part of the broken rudder and it was smashed like a coconut by a sledgehammer he sunk directly leaving no trace but a red stain on the water and a white clot on the jagged rudder and a death cry ringing in their ears as they drifted clear under the lee of the black hull the friar uttered a short Latin prayer for the safety of his soul and took his place composedly pulled along one moment they saw nothing and seemed down in a mere basin of watery hills the next they caught glimpses of the shore speckled bright with people who kept throwing up their arms with wild Italian gestures to encourage them and the black boat driving bottom upwards and between it and them the woman rising and falling like themselves she had come across a paddle and was holding her child tight with her left arm and paddling gallantly with her right when they had tumbled along thus a long time suddenly the friar said quietly I touched the ground impossible father said Gerald we are more than a hundred yards from shore prithee prithee leave not our faithful mast my son said the friar you speak prudently but know that I have business of holy church on hand and may not waste time floating when I can walk in her service there I felt it with my toes again see the benefit of wearing sandals and not shun again and sandy thy stature is less than mine keep to the mast I walk he left the mast accordingly and extending his powerful arms rushed through the water Gerald soon followed him at each overpowering wave the monk stood like a tower and closing his mouth threw his head back to encounter it and was entirely lost under it a while then emerged and plowed lustily on at last they came close to the shore but the suction outward baffled all their attempts to land then the natives sent stout fisherman into the sea holding by long spears in a triple chain and so dragged them ashore the friar shook himself bestowed a short paternal benediction on the natives and went on to Rome with eyes bent on earth according to his rule and without pausing he did not even cast a glance back upon that sea which had so nearly engulfed him but had no power to harm him without his master's leave while he stalks on alone to Rome without looking back I who am not in the service of Holy Church stop a moment to say that the reader and I were within six inches of this giant once before but we escaped him that time now I fear we are in for him Gerald grasped every hand upon the beach they brought him to an enormous fire and with a delicacy he would hardly have encountered in the north left him to dry himself alone on this he took out of his bosom a parchment and a paper and dried them carefully when this was done to his mind and not till then he consented to put on a fisherman's dress and leave his own by the fire and went down to the beach what he saw may be briefly related the captain stuck by the ship not so much from gallantry as from a conviction that it was idle to resist castor or Pollux whichever it was that had come for him in a ball of fire nevertheless the sea broke up the ship and swept the poop captain and all clear of the rest and took him safe ashore Gerald had a principal hand in pulling him out of the water the disconsulate Hebrew landed on another fragment and on touching earth offered a reward for his bag which excited little sympathy but some amusement two more were saved on pieces of the wreck the thirty egotists came ashore but one at a time and dead one breathed still him the natives with excellent intentions took to a hot fire so then he too retired from this shifting scene as Gerald stood by the sea watching with horror and curiosity mixed his late companions washed ashore a hand was laid lightly on his shoulder he turned it was the Roman matron burning with womanly gratitude she took his hand gently and raising it slowly to her lips kissed it but so nobly she seemed to be conferring an honour on one deserving hand then with face or beaming and moist eyes she held her child up and made him kiss his preserver Gerald kissed the child more than once he was fond of children but he said nothing he was much moved for she did not speak at all except with her eyes and with glowing cheeks and noble antique gesture so large and stately perhaps she was right gratitude is not a thing of words it was an ancient Roman matron thanking a modern from her heart of hearts next day towards afternoon Gerald twice as old as last year thrices learned in human ways a boy no more but a man who had shed blood in self-defense and grazed the grave by land and sea reached the eternal city Post-Tot Naufragia Tutus End of chapter 55 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 56 of The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reid This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Recording by Tom Denham Gerald took a modest lodging on the west bank of the Tiber and every day went forth in search of work taking a specimen round to every shop he could hear of that executed such commissions they received him coldly we make our letters somewhat thinner than this said one how dark your ink is said another but the main cry was what avails this scant is the Latin writ here now can you not write Greek I but not nice so well as Latin then you shall never make your bread at Rome Gerald borrowed a beautiful Greek manuscript at a high price and went home with a sad hole in his purse but none in his courage in a fortnight he had made vast progress with the Greek character so then to lose no time he used to work at it till noon and hunt customers the rest of the day when he carried round a better Greek specimen he disinformed him that Greek and Latin were alike unsailable the city was thronged with works from all over Europe he should have come last year Gerald bought a Saltery his landlady pleased with his looks and manners used often to speak a kind word in passing one day she made him dine with her and somewhat to his surprise asked him he told her she gave him her reading of the matter those sly traders she would be bound had writers in their pay for whose work they received a noble price and paid a sorry one so no wonder they blow cold on you me thinks you write too well how know I that say you marry marry because you lock not your door curious aye aye you write too well for them Gerald asked an explanation why said she your good work might put out the eyes of that they are selling Gerald sighed a last day you read folk on the ill side and you so kind and frank yourself my dear little heart these Romans are a subtle race I am a CNE's thanks to the Virgin my mistake was leaving Augsburg said Gerald Augsburg said she is that a place to even to roam I never heard of it for my part she then assured him that he should make his fortune in spite of the booksellers seeing thee a stranger they lie to thee without sense or discretion why all the world knows that our great folk are bitten with the writing spider this many years and pour out their money like water and turn good land and houses into rich sheepskins to keep in a chest or a cupboard God help them and send them safe through this fury as he hath threw a heap of others and in sooth hath been somewhat less cutting and stabbing among rival factions and vindictive eating some instant fries since scribbling came in why I can tell you too there is his eminence cardinal Bessarion and his holiness the Pope himself there be a pair could keep a score such as thee a writing day and night but I'll speak to Teresa she hears the gossip of the court the next day she told him she had seen Teresa and had heard of five more seniors who were bitten with the writing spider Gerard took down their names and bought parchment and busied himself for some days in preparing specimens he left one with his name and address in each of these seniors doors and hopefully awaited the result there was none day after day passed and left him heart sick and strange to say this was just the time when Margaret was fighting so hard against odds to feed her male dependence at Rotterdam and arrested for curing without a license instead of killing with one Gerard saw ruin staring him in the face he spent the afternoons picking up kanzanettes and mastering them he laid in playing cards to colour and struck off a meal for a day this last stroke of genius got him into fresh trouble in knees camere locande the landlady dressed all the meals though the lodgers bought the provisions so Gerard's hostess speedily detected him and asked him if he was not ashamed of himself by which brusque opening having made him blush and scared she pacified herself all in a moment and appealed to his good sense whether adversity was a thing to be overcome on an empty stomach but yenza my lad times will mend meantime I will feed you for the love of heaven Italian for gratis nay hostess said Gerard my purse is not yet quite void and it would add to my trouble and if true folks should lose their due by me why you are as mad as your neighbour Pietro with his one bad picture why how know you tis a bad picture because nobody will buy it there is one that hath no gift he will have to don cask and glaive and carry his panel for a shield Gerard pricked up his ears at this so she told him more Pietro had come from Florence with money in his purse and an unfinished picture had taken her one unfurnished room opposite Gerard's and furnished it neatly when his picture was finished he received visitors and had offers for it though in her opinion liberal ones he had refused so disdainfully as to make enemies of his customers since then he had often taken it out with him to try and sell but had always brought it back and the last month she had seen one movable after another go out of his room and now he wore but one suit and lay at night on a great chest she had found this out only by peeping through the keyhole for he locked the door most vigilantly whenever he went out is he afraid we shall steal his chest or his picture that no soul in all Rome is weak enough to buy nay sweet hostess see you not to his poverty he would screen from view and the more fool he are all our hearts as ill as his and might give us a trial first anyway how you speak of him why his case is mine and your countrymen taboot oh we Sienese love strangers his case yours nay it is just the contrary you are the comeliest youth ever lodged in this house hair like gold he is a dark sour visage gloon besides you know how to take a woman on her better side but not he nevertheless I wish he would not starve to death in my house to get me a bad name one starveling is enough in any house you are far from home and it is for me which I'm the mistress here to number your meals for me and the Dutch wife your mother that is far away we too women shall settle that matter mine thou thine own business being a man and leave cooking and the like to us that are in the world for little else that I see but to roast fouls and sweep their grown up cobwebs dear kind dame in sooth you do often put me in mind of my mother that is far away all the better I'll put you more in mind of her before I have done with you and the honest soul beamed with pleasure Gerard not being an egotist nor blinded by female partialities saw his own grief in poor, proud, pietro and the more he thought of it the more he resolved to share his humble means with that unlucky artist pietro's sympathy would repay him he tried to will lay him but without success one day he heard a groaning in the room he knocked at the door but received no answer he knocked again a surly voice about him enter he obeyed somewhat timidly and entered a garret furnished with a chair a picture face to wall an iron basin an easel and a long chest on which was coiled a haggard young man with a wonderfully bright eye anything more like a coiled cobra ripe for striking the first comer was never seen good senor pietro said Gerard forgive me that weary of my own solitude I intrude on yours but I am your niest neighbour in this house and me thinks your brother in fortune I am an artist too you are a painter welcome senor sit down on my bed and pietro jumped off and waved him into the vacant throne with a magnificent demonstration of courtesy Gerard bowed and smiled but hesitated a little I may not call myself a painter I am a writer a calligraph I copy greek and latin manuscripts when I can get them to copy and you call that an artist without offence to your superior merit senor pietro no offence stranger not only me seamoth an artist is one who thinks and paints his thought now a calligraph but draws in black and white the thoughts of another tis well distinguished senor but then a writer can write the thoughts of the great ancients and matters of pure reason such as no man may paint I am the thoughts of God which angels could not paint I am a painter as well but a sorry one the better thy luck they will buy thy work in Rome but seeking to commend myself to one of thy eminence I thought it well rather to call myself a capable writer than a scurvy painter at this moment a step was heard on the stair ah tis the good day what oh hostess what a conversation with senor pietro I dare say he will let me have my humble dinner here the Italian bowed gravely the landlady brought in Gerard's dinner smoking and savoury she put the tish down on the bed with a face divested of all expression and went Gerard fell too but ere he had eaten many mouthfuls he stopped and said I am an ill-managed churl pietro I near eat to my mind when I eat alone for our lady's sake put a spoon into this ragu with me tis not unsavory I promise you pietro fixed his glittering eye on him what could you thower stranger and offer us me thy dinner why see there is more than one can eat well I accept said pietro fixed the dish with some appearance of calmness and flung the contents out of window then he turned trembling with mortification and ire and said let that teach thee to offer arms to an artist thou knowest not master writer Gerard's face flushed with anger and it cost him a bitter struggle not to box this old creature's ears and then to go and destroy good food his mother's milk curled in his veins with horror at such impiety finally pity at pietro's petulance and egotism and a touch of respect for poverty struck pride prevailed however he said coldly likely what thou has done might pass in a novel of thy man senior bocaccio but was not honest make that good said the painter sullenly I offered thee half my dinner no more but thou has tainted all hudst a right to throw away thy share but not mine pride is well but justice is better pietro stared then reflected tis well so transparent was thine artifice forgive me and pretty leave me thou seized how tis with me the world hath soured me I hate mankind I was not always so once more excused that my discourtesy and fair thee well gerard sighed and made for the door but suddenly a thought struck him senior pietro said he and a heart bargainers we are the lads in eye shearing that is to shave an egg therefore I for my lost dinner do claim to feast mine eyes on your picture whose face is toward the wall nay nay said the painter hastily asked me not that I have already misconducted myself enough towards the I would not shed thy blood saints forbid my blood stranger said pietro sullenly irritated by repeated insults to my picture which is my child my heart I did in a moment of rage make a solemn vow to drive my dagger into the next one that should flout it and the labour and love that I have given to it will not praise this picture and he looked at its back with curiosity nay nay but if you would but look at it and hold your parrot tongues but you will be talking so I have turned it to the wall forever would I were dead and buried in it for my coffin gerard reflected I accept the condition show me the picture but hold my peace pietro went and turned its face and put it in the best light the room afforded and coiled himself again on his chest with his eye and stiletto glittering the picture represented the virgin and Christ flying through the air in a sort of cloud of shadowy cherubic faces underneath was a landscape 40 or 50 miles in extent and a purple sky above gerard stood and looked at it in silence then he stepped close and looked then he retired as far off as he could and looked but said not a word when he had been at this game half an hour pietro cried out quarrelously and somewhat inconsistently well have you not a word to say about it gerard started I cry your mercy I forgot there were three of us here I I have much to say and he drew his sword alas alas pietro jumping in terror from his lair what woods thou Marie defend myself against thy bodkin senior and a due odds being as a force head a Dutchman therefore hold aloof while I deliver judgment like a cock chaffer oh is that all said pietro greatly relieved I feared you were going to stab my poor picture with your sword stabbed already by so many foul tongues gerard pursued criticism under difficulties put himself in a position of defense with his sword's point covering pietro and one eye glancing aside at the picture first senior I would have you know that in the mixing of certain colors and in the preparation of your oil you Italians are far behind us Flemings but let that flee stick for as small as I am I can show you certain secrets of the van Iks that you will put to marvel as prophet in your next picture meantime I see in this one great qualities of your nation verily you are soulless filiae if we have color you have imagination mother of heaven and he has not flung his immortal soul upon the panel one thing I go by is this it makes other pictures I once admired seem drossy earth-born things the drapery here is somewhat short and stiff I will not let it float freely the figures being in air and motion I will I will cried pietro eagerly I will do anything for those who will but see what I have done ah this landscape it enlightens me henceforth I scorn those little huddled landscapes that did earth content me here is nature's very face a spacious plane each distance marked as a tree tree house figure field and river smaller and less plain by exquisite gradation till vision itself melts into distance oh beautiful and the cunning rogue hath hung his celestial figure in air out of the way of his little world below here floating saints beneath heaven's purple canopy there far down earth and her busy hives and they let you take this painted poetry this blooming hymn through the streets of Rome and bring it home unsold but I tell thee in gent or bruise or even in Rotterdam they would tear it out of thy hands but it is a common saying that as strange as I see is clearest courage pietro vanucci I reverence thee and though myself a scurvy painter do forgive thee for being a great one forgive thee I thank God for thee and such rare men as thou art and bow the knee to thee in just homage thy picture is immortal and thou that hast but a chest to sit on art a king in thy most royal art viva il maestro viva at this unexpected burst the painter with all the abandon of his nation flung himself on gerrard's neck they said it was a maniac's dream he sobbed maniacs themselves no idiots shouted gerrard generous stranger I will hate men no more since the world had such a thee I was a viper to fling thy poor dinner away a wretch a monster well monster will be gentle now and soap with me ah that I will with a ghost now to order supper on the instant we will have the picture for third man I will invite it whilst thou art gone my poor picture child of my heart our master twill look on many a supper after the worms have eaten you and me I hope so said pietro end of chapter 56 recording by tom denham chapter 57 of the cloister and the hearth by charles reed this libra vox recording is in the public domain recording by tom denham about a week after this the two friends sat working together but not in the same spirit pietro dashed fitfully at his and did wonders in a few minutes and then did nothing except abuse it then presently resumed it in a fury to lay it down with a groan through all which kept calmly working calmly smiling the cany dutchman to be plain gerard who never had a friend he did not master had put his onagra in harness the friends were painting playing cards to boil the pot when done the indignant master took up his picture to make his daily tour in search of a customer gerard begged him to take the cards as well and try and sell them he looked all the rattlesnake but eventually embraced gerard in the italian fashion and took them after first drying the last finished ones which was now powerful in that happy climb gerard left alone executed a greek letter or two and then mended the little rent in his hose his landlady found him thus employed and inquired ironically whether there were no women in the house when you have done that said she come and talk to tereza my friend I spoke to the of the watch which brags his acquaintance with the great gerard went down and who should tereza be but the roman matron ah madama said he is it you the good dame told me not that and the little fair head boy is he none the worse for his voyage in that strange boat he is well said the matron why what are you two talking about hearing at them both in turn and why tremble you so tereza mia he saved my child's life said tereza making an effort to compose herself what my lodger and he never told me a word of that art not ashamed to look me in the face alas speak not harshly to him said the matron she then turned to her friend and poured out a glowing description of the work during which gerard stood blushing like a girl and scarce recognizing his own performance gratitude painted it so fair and to think thou should ask me to serve thy lodger of whom I knew not but that he had thy good word of fiamina and that was enough for me dear youth in serving thee I serve myself and I did an eager description by the two women of what had been done and what should be done to penetrate the thick wall of fees, commissions and chicanery which stood between the patrons of art and an unknown artist in the eternal city tereza smiled sadly at gerard's simplicity in leaving specimens of his skill at the doors of the great city she said she without promising the servants a share without even feying them to let the seniors see thy merchandise as well have flung it into tiber well a day sighed gerard then how is an artist to find a patron for artists are poor not rich by going to some city nobler and not so greedy as this said tereza she fell into thought and said she would come again tomorrow the landlady felicitated gerard tereza has got something in her head said she tereza was scarce gone when pietro returned with his picture looking black as thunder gerard exchanged a glance with the landlady and followed him upstairs to console the ladies and followed him upstairs to console him what have they let they bring home thy masterpiece as here too far more fools they then that is not the worse why what is the matter they have bought the cards yelled pietro and hammered the air furiously right and left all the better said gerard cheerfully they flew at me for them they were enraptured with them they tried to conceal their longing for them but could not I saw I feigned I pillaged cursed the boobies and he flung down a dozen small silver coins on the floor and jumped on them and danced on them with basilisk eyes and then kicked them assiduously and sent them spinning and flying and running all abroad down when gerard on his knees and followed the mal-treated and transferred them tenderly to his purse shouldst rather smile at their ignorance and put it to profit said he and so I will said pietro with concentrated indignation the brutes we will paint a pachade we will set the whole city gambling and ruining itself while we live like princes on its vices and stupidity there was one of the queens though she kept back twas you limped her brother she had lovely red brown hair and sapphire eyes and above all soul pietro said gerard softly I painted that one from my heart the quick-witted italian nodded and his eyes twinkled you love her so well yet leave her pietro it is because I love her so dear that I have wondered all this weary road this interesting colloquy was interrupted by the landlady crying from below come down you are wanted he went down and there was tereza again come with me ser gerard end of chapter 57 recording by tom denham