 Chapter 43 of Ramola. 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 Elizabeth Marant. Ramola by George Elliott. Chapter 43. The Unseen Madonna. In returning from the hospital, more than an hour later, Ramola took a different road, making a wider circuit towards the river, which she reached at some distance from the Ponte Vecchio. She turned her steps towards that bridge, intending to hasten to San Stefano in search of Baldizzare. She dreaded to know more about him, yet she felt as if in forsaking him, she would be forsaking some near claim upon her. But when she approached the meeting of the roads where the poor Santa Maria would be on her right hand and the Ponte Vecchio on her left, she found herself involved in a crowd who suddenly fell on their knees, and she immediately knelt with them. The cross was passing, the great cross of the Duomo which headed the procession. Ramola was later than she had expected to be, and now she must wait till the procession had passed. As she rose from her knees when the cross had disappeared, the return to a standing posture with nothing to do but gaze made her more conscious of her fatigue than she had been while she had been walking and occupied. A shopkeeper by her side said, Madonna Romola, you will be weary of standing. Gianfantoni will be glad to give you a seat in his house. Here is his door close, at hand. Let me open it for you. What! He loves God in the frate as we do. His house is yours. Ramola was accustomed now to be addressed in this fraternal way by ordinary citizens whose faces were familiar to her from having seen them constantly in the Duomo. The idea of home had come to be identified for her less with the house in Via di Bardi where she sat in frequent loneliness, than with the towered circuit of Florence where there was hardly a turn of the streets at which she was not greeted with looks of appeal or of friendliness. She was glad enough to pass through the open door on her right hand and be led by the fraternal hose-vendor to an upstairs window where a stout woman with three children, all in the plain garb of the Piacnoni, made a place for her with much reverence above the bright hanging draperies. From this corner station she could see not only the procession pouring in solemn slowness between the lines of houses on the Ponte Vecchio, but also the river and the lung arno on towards the bridge of the Santa Trinita. In sadness and in stillness came the slow procession. Not even a wailing chant broke the silent appeal for mercy. There was only the tramp of footsteps and the faint sweep of woollen garments. There were young footsteps that were passing when Ramola first looked from the window a long train of the Florentine youth bearing high in the midst of them the white image of the youthful Jesus with a golden glory above his head standing by the tall cross where the thorns and the nails lay ready. After that train of fresh beardless faces came the mysterious looking companies of discipline bound by secret rules to self-chastisement and devout praise and special acts of piety all wearing a garb which concealed the whole head and face except the eyes. Everyone knew that these mysterious forms were Florentine citizens of various ranks who might be seen at ordinary times going about the business of the shop, the counting house or the state, but no member now was discernible as son, husband or father. They had dropped their personality and walked as symbols of a common vow. Each company had its color and its badge, but the garb of all was a complete shroud and left no expression without a fellowship. In comparison with them the multitude of monks seemed to be strongly distinguished individuals in spite of the common taunture and the common frock. First came a white stream of reformed benedictines and then a much longer stream of the Frati Menori or Franciscans in that age all clad in gray with the knotted cord round their wastes and some of them with the zacoli or wooden sandals below their bare feet, perhaps the most numerous order in Florence, owning many zealous members who loved mankind and hated the Dominicans. And after the gray came the black of the Augustinians of San Spirito with more cultured human faces above it, men who had inherited the library of Boccaccio and had made the most learned company in Florence when learning was rarer, then the white over dark of the Carmelites and then again the unmixed black of the Servites, that famous Florentine order founded by seven merchants who forsaked their gains to adore the divine mother. And now the hearts of all onlookers began to beat a little faster, either with hatred or with love, for there was a stream of black and white coming over the bridge, of black mantles over white scapularies and everyone knew that the Dominicans were coming. Those of Fiasole passed first, one black mantle parted by white after another, one tonsured head after another and still expectation was suspended. They were very coarse mantles, all of them, and many were threadbare if not ragged, for the prior of San Marco had reduced the fraternities under his rule to the strictest poverty and discipline. But in the long line of black and white there was at last singled out a mantle only a little more worn than the rest, with the tonsured head above it which might not have appeared supremely remarkable to a stranger who had not seen it on bronze metals, with the sword of God as its obverse, or surrounded by an armed guard on the way to the Duomo, or transformed by the inward flame of the orator as it looked round on a wrapped multitude. As the approach of Savanarola was discerned, none dared conspicuously to break the stillness by a sound which would rise above the solemn tramp of footsteps and the faint sweep of garments. Nevertheless his ear, as well as other ears, caught a mingled sound of slow hissing that longed to be curses and murmurs that longed to be blessings. Perhaps it was the sense that the hissing predominated which made two or three of his disciples in the foreground of the crowd at the meeting of the roads fall on their knees as if something divine were passing. The movement of silent homage spread. It went along the sides of the streets like a subtle shock, leaving some unmoved, while it made the most bend the knee and bow the head. But the hatred, too, gathered a more intense expression and as Savanarola passed up the poor Santa Maria, Ramola could see that someone at an upper window spat upon him. Monks again, fratti umiliati, or humble brethren, from Agnesanti, with a glorious tradition of being the earliest workers in the wool trade, and again more monks, Valimbrosan, and other varieties of Benedictines, reminding the instructed eye by niceties of form and color that in ages of abuse, long ago, reformers had arisen who had marked a change of spirit by a change of garb. Till at last these shaven crowns were at an end and there came the train of untonsored, secular priests. Then followed the twenty-one incorporated arts of Florence in long array, with their banners floating above them in proud declaration that the bearers had their distinct functions, from the bakers of bread to the judges and notaries, and then all the secondary officers of state, beginning with the less and going on to the greater, till the line of secularities was broken by the cannons of the Duomo, carrying a sacred relic, the very head, and closed in silver of San Zenobio, immortal bishop of Florence, whose virtues were held to have saved the city perhaps a thousand years before. Here was the nucleus of the procession. Behind the relic came the archbishop in gorgeous cope, with canopy held above him, and after him the mysterious hidden image, hidden first by rich curtains of brocade enclosing an outer painted tabernacle, but within this by the more ancient tabernacle which had never been opened in the memory of living men, or the fathers of living men. In that inner shrine was the image of the pitying mother, found ages ago in the soil of La Impruneta, uttering a cry as the spades struck it. Hitherto the unseen image had hardly ever been carried to the Duomo without having rich gifts born before it. There was no reciting the list of precious offerings made by emulous men and communities, especially of veils and curtains and mantles, but the richest of all these, it was said, had been given by a poor Abbas and her nuns, who, having no money to buy materials, wove a mantle of gold brocade with their prayers, embroidered it and adorned it with their prayers, and, finally, saw their work presented to the Blessed Virgin in the great piazza by two beautiful youths who spread out white wings and vanished in the blue. But today there were no gifts carried before the tabernacle. No donations were to be given today except to the poor. That had been the advice of Fra Girolamo, whose preaching never insisted on gifts to the invisible powers but only on help to visible need, and altars had been raised at various points in front of the churches, on which the oblations for the poor were deposited. Not even a torch was carried. Surely the hidden mother carried less for torches and brocade than for the wail of the hungry people. Florence was in extremity. She had done her utmost and could only wait for something divine that was not in her own power. The frate in the torn mantle had said that help would certainly come, and many of the faint-hearted were clinging more to their faith in the frate's word than to their faith in the virtues of the unseen image. But there were not a few of the fierce-hearted who thought with secret rejoicing that the frate's word might be proved false. Slowly the tabernacle moved forward and knees were bent. There was profound stillness. For the train of priests and chaplains from La Impruneta stirred no passion in the onlookers. The procession was about to close with the priors and the gonfaloniere. The long train of companies and symbols, which have their silent music and stir the mind as a chorus stirs it, was passing out of sight. And now a faint yearning hope was all that struggled with the accustomed despondency. Ramala, whose heart had been swelling, half with foreboding, half with that enthusiasm of fellowship which the life of the last two years had made as habitual to her as the consciousness of costume to a vain and idle woman, gave a deep sigh, and at the very end of some long mental tension, and remained on her knees for very langer, when suddenly there flashed from between the houses on to the distant bridge something bright-colored. In the instant Ramala started up and stretched out her arms, leaning from the window while the black drapery fell from her head, and the golden gleam of her hair and the flush in her face seemed the effect of one illumination. A shout arose in the same instant the last troops of the procession paused and all faces were turned towards the distant bridge. But the bridge was passed now. The horseman was pressing at full gallop along by the arno. The sides of his bay horse, just streaked with foam, looked all white from swiftness. His cap was flying loose by his red bachetto, and he waved an olive branch in his hand. It was a messenger, a messenger of good tidings. The blessed olive branch spoke afar off, but the impatient people could not wait. They rushed to meet the oncomer and seized his horse's reign, pushing and trampling. And now Ramala could see that the horseman was her husband, who had been sent to Pisa a few days before on a private embassy. The recognition brought no new flash of joy into her eyes. She had checked her first impulsive attitude of expectation, but her governing anxiety was still to know what news of relief had come for Florence. Good news! Best news! News to be paid with hoes! Novell de Calze were the vague answers with which Tito met the importunities of the crowd until he had succeeded in pushing on his horse to the spot at the meeting of the ways where the gonfaloniere and the priors were awaiting him. There he paused and bowing low said, Magnificent senori, I have to deliver to you the joyful news that the galleys from France, laden with corn and men, have arrived safely in the port of Leghorn by favour of a strong wind which kept the enemy's fleet at a distance. The words had no sooner left Tito's lips than they seemed to vibrate up the streets. A great shout rang through the air and rushed along the river and then another and another and the shouts were heard spreading along the line of the procession towards the Duomo and then there were a fainter answering shouts like the intermediate plash of distant waves in a great lake whose waters obey one impulse. For some minutes there was no attempt to speak further. The senoria themselves lifted up their caps and stood bare-headed in the presence of a rescue which had come from outside the limit of their own power from that region of trust and resignation which has been in all ages called divine. At last as the signal was given to move forward Tito said with a smile, I ought to say that any hose to be bestowed by the magnificent senoria and reward of these tidings are due not to me but to another man who had ridden hard to bring them and would have been here in my place if his horse had not broken down just before he reached Cygna. Meo di sasso will doubtless be here in an hour or two and may all the more justly claim the glory of the messenger because he has had the chief labor and has lost the chief delight. It was a graceful way of putting a necessary statement and after a word of reply from the Poposto or spokesman of the senoria this dignified extremity of the procession passed on and Tito turned his horse's head to follow in its train while the great bell of the Palazzo Vecchio was already beginning to swing and give a louder voice to the people's joy in that moment when Tito's attention had ceased to be imperatively directed it might have been expected that he would look round and recognize Ramola but he was apparently engaged with his cap which now the eager people were leading his horse he was able to seize and place on his head while his right hand was still encumbered by the olive branch he had a becoming air of lassitude after his exertions and Ramola instead of making any effort to be recognized by him threw her black drapery over her head again and remained perfectly quiet yet she felt almost sure that Tito had seen her he had the power of seeing everything without seeming to see it End of Chapter 43 of Ramola Reading by Elizabeth Morant Chapter 44 of Ramola 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 Elizabeth Morant Ramola by George Elliott Chapter 44 The Visible Madonna The crowd had no sooner passed onward than Ramola descended to the street and hastened the steps of San Stefano Ciccio had been attracted with the rest towards the piazza and she found Baldazzare standing alone against the church door with the horned cup in his hand waiting for her there was a striking change in him the blank dreamy glance of a half-returned consciousness had given place to a fierceness which as she advanced and spoke to him flashed upon her as if she had been its object it was the glance of caged fury that sees its prey passing safe beyond the bars Ramola started as the glance was turned on her but her immediate thought was that he had seen Tito and as she felt the look of hatred grating on her something like a hope arose that this man might be the criminal and that her husband might not have been guilty towards him if she could learn that now by bringing Tito face to face with him and have her mind set at rest if you will come with me she said I can give you shelter and food until you are quite rested and strong will you come? yes said Baldazzare I shall be glad to get my strength I want to get my strength he repeated as if he were muttering to himself rather than speaking to her come she said inviting him to walk by her side and taking the way by the arno towards the Ponte Rubicante as the more private road I think you are not a Florentine she said presently as they turned on to the bridge he looked round at her without speaking his suspicious caution was more strongly upon him than usual just now that the fog of confusion and oblivion was made denser by bodily feebleness but she was looking at him too and there was something in her gentle eyes which at last compelled him to answer her but he answered cautiously no I am no Florentine I am a lonely man she observed his reluctance to speak to her and dared not question him further lest he should desire to quit her as she glanced at him from time to time her mind was busy with thoughts which quenched the faint hope that there was nothing painful to be revealed about her husband if this old man had been in the wrong where was the cause for dread and secrecy they walked on in silence till they reached the entrance into the Via de Bardi and Ramola noticed that he turned and looked at her with a sudden movement as if some shock had passed through him a few moments after she paused at the half open door of the court and turned towards him ah he said not waiting for her to speak you are his wife whose wife said Ramola it would have been impossible for Balthasare to recall any name at that moment the very force with which the image of Tito pressed upon him seemed to expel any verbal sign he made no answer but looked at her with strange fixedness she opened the door wide and showed the court covered with straw which lay four or five sick people while some little children crawled or sat on it at their ease tiny pale creatures biting straws and gurgling if you will come in said Ramola tremulously I will find you a comfortable place and bring you some more food no I will not come in said Balthasare but he stood still arrested by the burden of impressions which his mind was too confused to choose a course can I do nothing for you said Ramola let me give you some money that you may buy food it will be more plentiful soon she had put her hand into her scarcella as she spoke and held out her palm with several grossy in it she purposely offered him more than she would have given to any other man in the same circumstances he looked at the coins a little while and then said yes I will take them she poured the coins into his palm and he grasped them tightly tell me said Ramola almost beseechingly what shall you but Balthasare had turned away from her and was walking again towards the bridge passing from it straight on up the Via del Faso he came upon the shop of Nicolo Capara and turned towards it without a pause as if it had been the very object of his search Nicolo was at that moment in procession with the armorers of Florence and there was only one apprentice in the shop but there were all sorts of weapons in abundance hanging there and Balthasare's eyes discerned what he was more hungry for than for bread Nicolo himself would probably have refused to sell anything that might serve as a weapon to this man with signs of the prison on him but the apprentice less observant and scrupulous took three grossie for a sharp hunting knife without any hesitation it was a conveniently small weapon which Balthasare could easily thrust within the breast of his tunic and he walked on feeling stronger that sharp edge might give deadliness to the thrust of an aged arm at least it was a companion it was a power in league with him and he failed it would break against armor but was the armor sure to be always there? in those long months while vengeance had lain in prison baseness had perhaps become forgetful and secure the knife had been bought with the trader's own money that was just before he took the money he had felt what he should do with it buy a weapon yes, and if possible food too food to nourish the arm that would grasp the weapon food to nourish the body which was the temple of vengeance when he had had enough bread he should be able to think and act to think first how he could hide himself lest Tito should have him dragged away again with that idea of hiding in his mind Balthasare turned up the narrowest streets bought himself some meat and bread and sat down under the first logia to eat the bells that swung out louder and louder peels of joy laying hold of him and making him vibrate along with all the air seemed to him simply part of that strong world which was against him Ramola had watched Balthasare until he had disappeared around the turning into the Piazza dei Mozi half feeling that his departure was a relief half reproaching herself for not seeking with more decision to know the truth about him for not assuring herself whether there were any guiltless misery in his lot which was not helpless to relieve yet what could she have done if the truth had proved to be the burden of some painful secret about her husband in addition to the anxieties that already weighed upon her surely a wife was permitted to desire ignorance of a husband's wrongdoing since she alone must not protest and warn men against him but that thought stirred too many intricate fibers of feeling to be pursued now in her weariness it was a time to rejoice Balthasare's help had come to Florence and she turned into the court to tell the good news to her patients on their straw beds she closed the door after her lest the bells should drown her voice and then throwing the black drapery from her head that the women might see her better she stood in the midst and told them that corn was coming and that the bells were ringing for gladness at the news they all set up to listen while the children trotted her and held towards her and pulled her black skirts as if they were impatient at being all that long way off her face she yielded to them weary as she was and sat down on the straw while the little pale things peeped into her basket and pulled her hair down and the feeble voices around her said the holy virgin be praised it was the procession the mother of God has had pity on us at last Ramola rose from the heap of straw too tired to try and smile any longer saying as she turned up the stone steps I will come by and by to bring you your dinner bless you Madonna bless you said the faint chorus in much the same tone as that in which they had a few minutes before praised and thanked the unseen Madonna Ramola cared a great deal for that music she had no innate taste in attending the sick and clothing the ragged like some women to whom the details of such work are welcome in themselves simply as an occupation her early training had kept her aloof from such womenly labors and if she had not brought to them the inspiration of her deepest feelings they would have been irksome to her but they had come to be the one unshaken resting place of her mind the one narrow pathway on which the glight fell clear if the gulf between herself and Tito which only gathered a more perceptible wideness from her attempts to bridge it by submission brought a doubt whether, after all the bond to which she had labored to be true might not itself be false if she came away from her confessor Fra Salvestro or from some contact with the disciples of Savanarola amongst whom she worshiped with a sickening sense that these people were miserably narrow and impetuous reaction towards her old contempt for their superstition she found herself recovering of firm footing in her works of womanly sympathy whatever else made her doubt the help she gave to her fellow citizens made her sure that Fra Giolamo had been right to call her back according to his unforgotten words her place had not been empty it had been filled with her love and her labor and her need of her and the more her own sorrow pressed upon her the more gladness she felt in the memories stretching through the two long years of hours and moments in which she had lightened the burden of life to others all that ardor of her nature which could no longer spend itself in the woman's tenderness for father and husband had transformed itself into an enthusiasm of sympathy with the general life in which she would think that her own lot could be happy had ceased to think of happiness at all the one end of her life seemed to her to be the diminishing of sorrow her enthusiasm was continually stirred to fresh vigor by the influence of Savanarola in spite of the wearisome visions and allegories from which she recoiled and discussed when they came as stale repetitions from other lips than his and the splendor of his aims had lost none of its power his burning indignation against the abuses and oppression that made the daily story of the church and of the states had kindled the ready fire in her too his special care for liberty and purity of government in Florence with his constant reference of this immediate object to the wider end of a universal regeneration had created in her a new consciousness of the great drama of human existence in which her life was a part and through her daily helpful contact with the less fortunate of her fellow citizens this new consciousness became something stronger than a vague sentiment it grew into a more and more definite motive of self-denying practice she thought little about dogmas and shrank from reflecting closely on the fratres prophecies of the immediate scourge and closely following regeneration she had submitted her mind to his and had entered into communion with the church because in this way she had found an immediate satisfaction for moral needs which all the previous culture and experience of her life had left hungering Fra Girolamo's voice had waked in her mind a reason for living for personal enjoyment and personal affection but it was a reason that seemed to need feeding with greater forces than she possessed within herself and her submissive use of all offices of the church was simply a watching and waiting if by any means fresh strength might come the pressing problem from Ramola just then was not to settle questions of controversy but to keep alive the flame of unselfish emotion by which a life of sadness might still be a life of active love her trust in Savanarola's nature as greater than her own made a large part of the strength she had found and the trust was not to be lightly shaken it is not force of intellect which causes ready repulsion from the aberration and eccentricities of greatness any more than it is force of vision that causes the eye to explore the warts on a face bright with human expression it is simply the negation of high sensibilities Ramola was so deeply moved by the grand energies of Savanarola's nature that she found herself listening patiently to all dogmas and prophecies when they came in the vehicle of his ardent faith and believing utterance note he himself had had occasion enough to note the efficacy of that vehicle if, he says in the compendium revelationum you speak of such as have not heard these things from me I admit that they who disbelieve are more than they who believe because it is one thing to hear him who inwardly feels these things and another to hear him who feels them not and therefore it is well said by saint Jerome habit, nestio, quid, latentis, energai, vivai, bosis, actis, etin, oris, discipuli, de, octoris, ori, transfusa, fortis, sonat no soul is desolate as long as there is a human being for whom it can feel trust and reverence Ramola's trust in Savanarola was something like a rope suspended securely by her path making her step elastic while she grasped it if it were suddenly removed no firmness of the ground she trod could save her from staggering or perhaps from falling End of Chapter 44 of Ramola Reading by Elizabeth Morant Chapter 45 of Ramola Chapter 45 of Ramola 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 Elizabeth Morant Ramola by George Elliott Chapter 45 at the Barbers Shop After that welcome appearance as the messenger with the olive branch which was an unpromised favor of fortune Tito had other commissions to fulfill of a more premeditated character He posited the Palazzo Vecchio and awaited there the return of the Ten who managed external and war affairs that he might duly deliver to them the results of his private mission to Pisa intended as a preliminary to an avowed embassy of which Bernardo Rouss de Lai was to be the head with the object of coming if possible to a pacific understanding with the Emperor Maximilian and the League Tito's talents for diplomatic work had been well ascertained He gave with fullness and precision the results of his inquiries and interviews Bernardo Del Niro who was at that time one of the Ten could not withhold his admiration He would have withheld it if he could for his original dislike of Tito had returned and become stronger since the sale of the library Ramola had never uttered a word to her godfather on the circumstances of the sale and Bernardo had understood her silence as a prohibition to him on the subject but he felt sure that the breach of her father's wish had been a blighting grief to her and the old man's observant eyes discerned other indications that her married life was not happy ah, he said inwardly that doubtless is the reason she has taken to listening to Fra Girolamo and going amongst the Piagnoni which I never expected from her these women, if they are not happy and have no children must either take to folly or to some religion that makes them think they've got all heaven's work on their shoulders and as for my poor child Ramola it is as I always said the cramming with Latin and Greek has left her as much a woman as if she had done nothing all day but prick her fingers with a needle and this husband of hers who gets employed everywhere because he's a tool with a smooth handle I wish Tornobloni and the rest may not find their fingers cut well, well many a full sack comes from a crooked furrow and he who will be captain of none but honest men will have small higher to pay with this long established conviction that there could be no moral sifting of political agents the old Florentine abstained from all interference in Tito's disfavor apart from what must be kept sacred and private for Ramola's sake Bernardo had nothing direct to allege against the useful Greek that was a Greek and that he Bernardo did not like him for the doubleness of feigning attachment to the popular government while at heart a Medician was common to Tito with more than half the Medician party he only feigned with more skill than the rest that was all so Bernardo was simply cold to Tito who returned the coldness with a scrupulous distant respect and it was still the notion in Florence that the old tie between Bernardo and Ramola was done to Ramola's husband an acceptable homage to her godfather after delivering himself of his charge at the old palace Tito felt that the avowed official work of the day was done he was tired and in dust with long riding but he did not go home there were certain things in his scarcella and on his mind from which he wished to free himself as soon as possible but the opportunities must be found so skillfully that they must not seem to be sought from the palazzo in a sauntering fashion towards the piazza del Duomo the procession was at an end now but the bells were still ringing and the people were moving about the streets restlessly longing for some more definite vent to their joy if the frate could have stood up in the great piazza and preached to them they might have been satisfied but now in spite of the new discipline which declared Christ to be the special king of the Florentines and required all pleasures to be of a Christian sort there was a secret longing in many of the youngsters who shouted Viva Gesu for a little vigorous stone throwing in sign of thankfulness Tito as he passed along could not escape being recognized by some as the welcome bearer of the olive branch and could only rid himself of an inconvenient ovation chiefly in the form of eager questions by telling those who pressed on him that Meio Disasso the true messenger from Legorm must now be entering and might certainly be met towards the Porta San Fradiano he could tell much more than Tito knew freeing himself from importunities in this adroit manner he made his way to the piazza del Duomo casting his long eyes around the space with an air of the utmost carelessness but really seeking to detect some presence which might furnish him with one of his desired opportunities the fact of the procession having terminated at the Duomo made it probable that there would be more than the usual concentration of loungers and talkers in the piazza and around Nello's shop it was as he expected there was a group leaning against the rails near the north gates of the baptistry so exactly what he saw that he looked more indifferent than ever and seemed to recognize the tallest member of the group entirely by chance as he had half past him just turning his head to give him a slight greeting while he tossed the end of his bichetto over his left shoulder yet the tall broad-shouldered personage greeted in that slight way looked like one who had considerable claims he wore a richly embroidered tunic with a great show of linen after the newest French mode and at his belt there hung a sword in poignard with a fine workmanship his hat with a red plume in it seemed a scornful protest against the gravity of Florentine costume which had been exaggerated to the utmost under the influence of the Piagnoni certain undefinable indications of youth made the breadth of his face and the large diameter of his waist appear the more emphatically a stamp of coarseness and his eyes had that rude desecrating stare at all men and things and the way refined mind is as intolerable as a bad odor or a flaring light he and his companions also young men dressed expensively and wearing arms were exchanging jokes with that sort of ostentatious laughter which implies a desire to prove that the laughter is not mortified though some people might suspect it there were good reasons for such a suspicion for this broad-shouldered man with the red feather was Dolfo Spini of the Campagnacci or evil companions that is to say of all the disillute young men belonging to the old aristocratic party enemies of the Medicians enemies of the popular government but still more bitter enemies of Savonarola Dolfo Spini, heir of the great house with the logia over the bridge of the Santa Trinita had organized these young men into an armed band as sworn champions of extravagant suppers and all the pleasant sins of the flesh against reforming pietists who threatened to make the world chaste and temperate to so intolerable a degree that there would soon be no reason for living except the extreme unpleasantness of the alternative up to this very morning he had been loudly declaring that Florence was given up to famine and ruin entirely through its blind adherence to the advice of the frate and that there could be no salvation for Florence but in joining the league and driving the frate out of the city, sending him to Rome in fact wither he ought to have gone long ago in obedience to the summons of the Pope. It was suspected therefore that Miser Dolfo Spini's heart was not a glow with pure joy at the unexpected suckers which had come in apparent fulfillment of the frate's prediction and the laughter which was ringing out afresh as Tito joined the group at Nello's door did not serve to dissipate the suspicion for leaning against the doorpost in the center of the group was a close-shaven keen-eyed personage named Niccolo Machiavelli who, young as he was had penetrated all the small secrets of egoism Miser Dolfo's head he was saying is more of a pumpkin than I thought I measure men's dullness by the devices they trusted for deceiving others your dullest animal of all is he who grins and says he doesn't mind just after he has had his shins kicked if I were a trifle duller now he went on smiling as the circle opened to admit Tito I should pretend to be fond of this Malema who has got a secretary ship that would exactly suit me as if Latin ill-paid could love better Latin that's better paid Malema you are a fellow very much in my way and I'm sorry to hear you've had another piece of good luck today questionable luck Niccolo said Tito touching him on the shoulder in a friendly way I have got nothing by it yet but being laid hold of and breathed upon by wool beaters when I am as soiled and battered with riding as a taballario letter carrier from Bologna ah you want a touch of my art Miser Oratory said Nello who had come forward at the sound of Tito's voice your chin I perceive has yesterday's crop upon it come come consign yourself to the priest of all the muses Sandro quick with the lather in truth Nello that is just what I most desire at this moment said Tito seating himself and that was why I turned my step towards the eye shop instead of going home at once when I had done my business at the market yes indeed it is not fitting that you should present yourself to Madonna Ramola with a rusty chin and a tangled Zazzera nothing that is not dainty ought to approach the Florentine Lily though I see her constantly going about like a sunbeam amongst the rags that line our corners if indeed she is not more like a moonbeam now for I thought yesterday when I met her that she looked as pale and worn as the sunbeams of the monies you must see to it my bell erudito she keeps too many fasts and vigils in your absence Tito gave a melancholy shrug it is too true Nello she has been depriving herself of half her proper food every day during this famine but what can I do her mind has been set all a flame a husband's influence is powerless against the influence is likely to be that of the Holy Father included said Domenico Sanini one of the group at the door who had turned in with Tito I don't know whether you have gathered anything at pizza about the way the wind sits at Rome Malema secrets of the council chamber Maser Domenico said Tito smiling and opening his palms in a deprecatory manner an envoy must be as dumb as a father confessor certainly said Sanini I asked for no breach of that rule well my belief is that if his holiness were to drive Fra Girolamo to extremity the frate would move heaven and earth to get a general council of the church I and would get it too and I for one should not be sorry though I'm no Piagnone with leave of your greater experience Maser Domenico said Machiavelli I must differ from you not in your wish to see a general council which might reform the church but in your belief that the frate will checkmate his holiness the frate's game is an impossible one if he had contented himself with preaching against the vices of Rome and with prophesying that in some way not mentioned Italy would be scourged depend upon it Pope Alexander would have allowed him to spend his breath in that way as long as he could find hearers such spiritual blasts as those knock no walls down but the frate wants to be something more than a spiritual trumpet he wants to be a lever and what is more he is a lever he wants to spread the doctrine of Christ by maintaining a popular government in Florence and the Pope as I know on the best authority of private views to the contrary then Florence will stand by the frate Senini broken with some fervor I myself should prefer that he would let his prophesying alone but if our freedom to choose our own government is to be attacked I am an obedient son of the church but I would vote for resisting Pope Alexander the 6th as our forefathers resisted Pope Gregory the 11th but pardon me where Domenico said Machiavelli sticking his thumbs into his belt and speaking with that cool enjoyment of exposition which surmounts every other force in discussion have you correctly seized the frate's position how is it that he has become a lever and made himself worth attacking by an acute man like his holiness because he has got the ear of the people because he gives them threats and promises which they believe not only about God not only about hell purgatory and paradise but about Pisa and our great council but let events go against him so as to shake the people's faith and the cause of his power will be the cause of his fall he is accumulating three sorts of hatred on his head the hatred of average mankind against everyone who wants to lay on them a strict yoke of virtue the hatred of the stronger powers who want to farm Florence for their own purposes and the hatred of the people to whom he has ventured to promise good in this world instead of confining his promises to the next if a prophet is to keep his power he must be a prophet like Muhammad with an army at his back that when the people's faith is fainting it may be frightened into life again rather sum up the three sorts of hatred in one said Francesco say impetuously and say he has won the hatred of all men who have sense and honesty by inventing hypocritical lies his proper place is among the false prophets in the inferno who walk with their heads turned hind foremost you are too angry my Francesco said Machiavelli smiling you poets are apt to cut the clouds in your wrath I am no votary of the fratays and would not lay down my little finger for his veracity but veracity is a plant of paradise and the seeds have never flourished beyond the walls you yourself my Francesco tell poetical lies only partly compelled by the poets fervor partly to please your audience but you object to lies in prose well the fratay differs from you as to the boundary of poetry that's all to the pulpit of the Duomo he has the fervor within him and without him he has the audience to please echo you are somewhat lax there Nicolo said Sinini gravely I myself believe in the fratays integrity though I don't believe in his prophecies and as long as his integrity is not disproved we have a popular party strong enough to protect him and resist foreign interference a party that seems strong enough said Machiavelli with a shrug and an almost imperceptible glance towards Tito who was abandoning himself with much enjoyment to Nello's coming and sending but how many Medicians are there among you how many who will not be turned round by a private grudge as to the Medicians said Sinini I believe there is very little genuine feeling left on behalf of the Medici who would risk much for Piero de Medici a few old staunch friends perhaps like Bernardo del Niro but even some of those most connected with the family are hearty friends of the popular government and would exert themselves for the frate I was talking to Gianno so Pucci only a little while ago and I am convinced there is nothing he would set his face against more than against any attempt to alter the new order of things you are right there said Tito as he rose from the shaving chair and I fancy the tender passion came an aid of hard theory there I am persuaded there was some jealousy at the bottom of Gianno's alienation from Piero de Medici else so amiable a creature as he would never feel the bitterness he sometimes allows to escape him in that quarter he was in the procession with you I suppose no Sinini he is at his villa went there a few days ago Tito was settling his cap and glancing down at his splashed hoses if he hardly needed the answer in reality he had obtained a much desired piece of information he had at that moment in his scarcella a crushed gold ring which he had engaged to deliver to Gianno so Pucci he had received it from an envoy at Piero de Medici whom he had ridden out of his way on the Surtaldo on the Siena road since Pucci was not in the town he would send the ring by Fra Michel a Carthusian lay brother in the service of the Medicians and the receipt of that sign would bring Pucci back to hear the verbal part of Tito's mission behold him said Nello flourishing his comb and pointing at a Tito the handsomest scholar in the world or in the words del mondo o di marema now he has passed through my hands a trifle thinner in the face though that when he came in his first bloom to Florence eh? and I vow there are some lines just faintly hinting themselves about your mouth Miser oratore ah, mind is an enemy to beauty I myself was thought beautiful by the women at one time when I was in my swaddling bands but now oime I carry my unwritten poems and cipher on my face Tito laughing with the rest as Nello looked at himself tragically in the hand mirror made a sign of farewell to the company generally and took his departure I'm of our old Piero di Cosimo's mind said Francesco say I don't half like Malema that trick of smiling gets stronger than ever no wonder he has lines about the mouth he's too successful said Machiavelli playfully I'm sure there's something wrong about him else he wouldn't have that secretary ship he's an able man said Sinini in a tone of judicial fairness I and my brother have always found him useful with our Greek sheets and he gives great satisfaction to the ten I like to see a young man work his way upward by merit and the secretary Scala who befriended him from the first thinks highly of him still I know I wish Miss Ser Bartolomeo would pay me to doctor his gouty Latin said Machiavelli with a shrug did he tell you about the pay Ser Ciccione or was it Malema himself he added looking at the notary with a face ironically innocent Malema no indeed answered Sir Ciccone I wish Miss Ser Bartolomeo would pay me to doctor his gouty no indeed answered Sir Ciccone he is as close as a nut he never brags that's why he's employed everywhere they say he's getting rich with doing all sorts of underhand work it is a little too bad said Machiavelli and so many able notaries out of employment well I must say I thought that was a nasty story a year or two ago about the man who said he had stolen jewels it got hushed up somehow but I remember Piero De Cosimo said at the time he believed there was something in it for he saw Malema's face when the man laid hold of him and he never saw a visage so painted with fear as our sour old Dante says come spit no more of that venom Francesco said Nello getting indignant else I shall consider it public duty to cut your hair all right the next time I get you under my scissors that story of the stolen jewels was a lie Bernardo Russoli and the Magnificent 8 knew all about it the man was a dangerous madman and he was very properly kept out of mischief and prison as for our Piero De Cosimo his wits are running after the wind of Mon Giberlo he has such an extravagant fancy that he would take a lizard crocodile no that story has been dead and buried too long our noses object to it it is true said Machiavelli you forget the danger of the precedent Francesco the next mad beggar man may accuse you of stealing his verses or me god help me of stealing his coppers ah he went on turning towards the door Dolfo Spini has carried his red feather to the piazza that captain of swaggerers would like the Republic to lose Pisa just for the chance of seeing the people tear the frock off the frate's back with your pardon Francesco I know he is a friend of yours there are few things I should like better than to see him play the part of Capo de Oca who went out to the tournament blowing his trumpets and returned with them in a bag end of chapter 45 recording by Elizabeth Morant Chapter 46 of Ramola this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Ramola by George Eliot Chapter 46 by a street lamp that evening when it was dark and threatening rain returning with Mazzo and the lantern by her side from the hospital of San Matteo which she had visited after Vestas encountered her husband just issuing from the monastery of San Marco Tito, who had gone out again shortly after his arrival in the Via di Bardi and had seen little of Ramola during the day immediately proposed to accompany her home dismissing Mazzo who short steps annoyed him it was only usual for him to pay her such an official attention when it was obviously demanded from him Tito and Ramola never jarred never remonstrated with each other they were too hopelessly alienated in their inner life ever to have that contest which is an effort towards agreement they talked of all affairs public and private with careful adherence to an adopted course if Tito wanted to supper prepared in the old library furnished as a banquet room Ramola assented and saw that everything needful was done and Tito on his side left her entirely uncontrolled in her daily habits accepting the help she offered him in transcribing or making digests and in return meeting her conjectured want of supplies for her charities yet he constantly as on this very morning avoided exchanging glances with her affected to believe that she was out of the house in order to avoid seeking her in her own room and playfully attributed to her a perpetual preference of solitude to his society in the first hour of her self-conquest after she had renounced her resolution of flight Ramola had made many timid efforts towards return of a frank relation between them but to her such a relation could only come by open speech about their differences and to arrive at a moral understanding while Tito could only be saved from alienation from her by such a recovery of her effusive tenderness as would have presupposed oblivion of their differences he cared for no explanation between them he felt any thorough explanation impossible he would have cared to have Ramola fond again and to her fondness was impossible she could be submissive and gentle she could repress any sign of repulsion but tenderness was not to be famed she was helplessly conscious of the result her husband was alienated from her it was an additional reason why she should be carefully kept outside of secrets which he would in no case have chosen to communicate to her with regards to his political action he sought to convince her that he considered the cause of the conflict hopeless and that on that practical ground as well as in theory he heartily served the popular government in which she had now a warm interest but impressions subtle as odours made her uneasy about his relations with San Marco she was painfully divided between the dread of seeing any evidence to arouse her suspicions and the impulse to watch lest any harm should come that she might have arrested as they walked together this evening Tito said the business of the day is not quite ended for me I shall conduct you to our door Maramola and then I must fulfil another commission which will take me an hour perhaps before I can return and rest as I very much need to do and then he talked amusingly of what he had seen at Pisa until they were close upon a lodger near which they hung a lamp before a picture of the virgin the street was a quiet one and here the two they had passed few people but now there was a sound of many approaching footsteps and confused voices we shall not get home without a wetting unless we take shelter under this convenient lodger said Tito hastily hurrying Maramola with a slightly startled movement up the steps of the lodger sure it is useless to wait for this small drizzling rain said Maramola in surprise no I felt it becoming heavier let us wait a little with that wakefulness to the faintest indication which belongs to a mind habitually in a state of caution Tito had detected by the glimmer of the lamp that the leader of the advancing group wore a red feather and a glittering sword-hilt in fact was almost the last person in the world he would have chosen to meet at this hour with Maramola by his side he had already during the day had one momentous interview with Dolfo Spini and the business he had spoken of to Maramola as yet to be done was a second interview with that personage a sequence of the visit he had paid at San Marco Tito by a long preconcetted plan had been the bearer of letters to Savonarola carefully forged letters one of them by a stratagem bearing the very signature and seal of the cardinal of Naples who of all the sacred college had most exerted his influence at Rome in the favour of the frate the purport of the letters was to state that the cardinal was on his progress from Pisa and unwilling for strong reasons to enter Florence yet desirous of taking council with Savonarola at this difficult juncture intended to pause this very day at San Cassano about ten miles from the city whence he would ride out the next morning and meet Savonarola as if casually five miles on the Florence road two hours after sunrise the plot of which these forged letters were the initial step was that Dolfo Spinney with a band of his compagnacci was to be posted in ambush on the road at a lonely spot about five miles from the gates that he was to seize Savonarola with the Dominican brother who would accompany him according to rule and deliver him over to a small detachment of Milanese horse in readiness near San Cassano by whom he was to be carried into the Roman territory there was a strong chance that the penetrating frate was suspect a trap and declined to incur the risk which he had for some time avoided of going beyond the city walls even when he preached his friends had held it necessary that he should be attended by an armed guard and he was called on to commit himself to a solitary road with no other attendant than a fellow monk on this ground the minimum of time had been given him for decision and the chance in favour of his acting on the letters was that the eagerness with which his mind was set on the combining of interests within and without the church towards the procuring of a general council and also the expectation of immediate service from the cardinal in the actual juncture of his contest with the pope would triumph over his shrewdness and caution in the brief space allowed for deliberation Tito had had an audience of Savnerola having declined to put the letters into any hands but his and with consummate art had admitted that incidentally and by inference he was able so far to conjecture their purport as to believe they referred to Arandivu outside the gates in which case he urged that the fratis should seek an armed guard from the senoria and offered his own services in carrying the request with the utmost privacy Savnerola had replied briefly that this was impossible an armed guard was incompatible with privacy he spoke with a flashing eye and Tito felt convinced that he meant to incur the risk Tito himself did not much care for the result he managed his affairs so cleverly that all results he considered must turn to his advantage whichever party came up a most he was secure of favour and money that is an indecorously naked statement the fact clothed as Tito habitually clothed it was that his acute mind discerning the equal hollowness of all parties took the only rational course in making them subservient to his own interest if Savnerola fell into the snare there were diamonds in question and papal patronage if not Tito's adroit agency had strengthened his position with Savnerola and with Spinney while any confidences he obtained from them made him the more valuable as an agent of the Medicians but Spinney was an inconvenient colleague he had cunning enough to delight in plots but not the ability to self-command necessary to so complex in effect as secrecy he frequently got excited with drinking but even sober Florence had its bonny or topers both lay and clerical who became loud at taverns and private banquets and in spite of the agreement between him and Tito that their public recognition of each other should invariably be of the coolest sort there was always the possibility that on an evening encounter he would be suddenly blurting and affectionate the delicate sign of casting the bouquet over the left shoulder was understood in the morning but the strongest hint short of a threat might not suffice to keep off a fraternal grasp of the shoulder in the evening Tito's chief hope now was that doleful Spinney had not caught sight of him and the hope would have been well founded if Spinney had had no clearer view of him than he had caught of Spinney but himself in shadow he had seen Tito illuminated for an instant by the direct rays of the lamp and Tito in his way was a strongly marked a personage as the captain of the compagnacci Ramola's black shrouded figure had escaped notice and she now stood behind her husband's shoulder in the corner of the lodger Tito was not left to hope long ah my carrier pigeon greeted Spinney's harsh voice in what he meant to be an undertone while his hand grasped Tito's shoulder what did you run into hiding for you didn't know it was comrades who were coming it's well I caught sight of you it saves time what of the chase tomorrow morning will the bald headed game rise are the falcons to be got ready if it had been in Tito's nature in excess of rage he would have felt it against this bull-faced accomplice unfit either for a leader or a tool his lips turned white but his excitement came from the pressing difficulty of choosing a safe device if he attempted to hush Spinney that would only deepen Ramola's suspicion and he knew her well enough to know that if some strong alarm were roused in her she was neither to be silenced nor hoodwinked on the other hand if he repelled Spinney angrily the wine-breathing compagnaccio might become savage being more ready at resentment than in the divination of motives he adopted a third course which proved that Ramola retained one sort of power over him the power of dread he pressed her hand as if intending a hint to her and said in a good-humoured tone of friendship yes my doleful, you may prepare in all security but take no trumpets with you don't be afraid said Spinney a little peaked no need to play Cercacente with me I know where the devil keeps his tail as well as you do what? he swallowed the bait to hole the prophetic nose didn't scent the hook at all he went on, lowering his tone a little to secrecy the brute will not be satisfied till he has emptied the bag thought Tito, but aloud he said swallowed all as easily as you swallow a cup of Trebiano ah, I see torches there must be a dead body coming the pestilence has been spreading, I heard Santi Deo I hate the sight of those beers good night said Spinney hastily moving off the torches were really coming but they proceeded a church dignitary who was returning homeward the suggestion of the dead body and the pestilence was Tito's device for getting rid of Spinney without telling him to go the moment he had moved away Tito turned to Ramola and said quietly do not be alarmed by anything that bestia has said my Ramola we go on now I think the rain has not increased she was quivering with indignant resolution it was of no use for Tito to speak in that unconcerned way she distrusted every word he could utter I will not go on she said I will not move nearer home until I have some security against this treachery being perpetrated wait at least until these torches have passed said Tito with perfect self-command but with a new rising of dislike to his wife who this time he foresaw might have the power of thwarting him in spite of the husband's predominance the torches passed with the Vicario de la Civersco and due reverence was done by Tito but Ramola saw nothing outward if for the defeat of this treachery in which she believed with all the force of long presentiment it had been necessary at that moment for her to spring on her husband with him down a precipice she felt as if she could have done it union with this man at that moment the self-quelling discipline of two years seemed to be nullified she felt nothing but that they were divided they were nearly in darkness again and could only see each other's faces dimly tell me the truth Tito this time tell me the truth Ramola in a low, quivering voice it will be safer for you why should I desire to tell you anything else my angry saint said Tito with a slight touch of contempt which was the vent of his annoyance since the truth is precisely that over which you have most reason to rejoice namely that my knowing a plot of spinnies enables me to secure the fratte from falling a victim to it what is the plot? that I declined to tell said Tito it is enough that the fratte's safety will be secured it is a plot for drawing him outside the gates that spinny may murder him there has been no intention of murder it is simply a plot for compelling him to obey the pope's summons to Rome but as I serve the popular government and think the fratte's presence here is a necessary means of maintaining it at present I choose to prevent his departure you may go to sleep with entire ease of mind tonight for a moment Ramola was silent then she said in a voice of anguish Tito it is of no use I have no belief in you she could just discern his action as he shrugged and spread out his palms in silence that cold dislike which is the anger of unimpassioned beings was hardening within him if the fratte leaves the city if any harm happens to him said Ramola after a slight pause in a new tone of indignant resolution I will declare what I have heard to the signoria and you will be disgraced what if I am your wife she went on impetuously I will be disgraced with you if we are united I am that part of you that will save you from crime others shall not be betrayed I am quite aware of what you would be likely to do anima mia said Tito in the coolest of his liquid tones therefore if you have a small amount of reasoning at your disposal just now consider that if you believe me in nothing else you may believe me when I say I will take care of myself and not put it in your power to ruin me then you assure me that the fratte is warned he will not go beyond the gates he shall not go beyond the gates there was a moment's pause but distrust was not to be expelled I will go back to San Marco now and find out making a movement forward you shall not said Tito in a bitter whisper seizing her wrists with all his masculine force I am masked over you you shall not set yourself in opposition to me there were passes by approaching Tito had heard them and that was why he spoke in a whisper Ramona was too conscious of being mastered to have struggled even if she had remained unconscious that witnesses were at hand but she was aware now of footsteps and voices and her habitual sense of personal dignity made her at once yield to Tito's movement towards leading her from the lodger they walked on in silence for some time under the small drizzling rain the first rash of indignation and alarm in Ramona had begun to give way to more complicated feelings which rendered speech and action difficult in that simple state of vehemence open opposition to the husband from whom she felt her soul revolting had had the aspect of temptation for her it seemed the easiest of all courses but now habits of self-questioning memories of impulse subdued and that proud reserve which all discipline had left unmodified began to emerge from the flood of passion the grasp of her wrists which asserted her husband's physical predominance instead of arousing a new fierceness in her as it might have done if her impetuosity had been of a more vulgar kind had given her a momentary shuddering horror at this form of contest with him it was the first time they had been in declared hostility to each other since her flight and return and the check given to her ardent resolution then retained the power to arrest her now in this altered condition her mind began to dwell on the probabilities that would save her from any desperate course Tito would not risk betrayal by her whatever had been his original intention he must be determined now by the fact that she knew of the plot she was not bound now to do anything else than to hang over him that certainty that if he deceived her her lips would not be closed and then it was possible yes she must cling to that possibility till it was disproved that Tito had never meant to aid in the betrayal of the frate Tito on his side was busy with thoughts and did not speak again till they were near home then he said well Ramola have you now had time to recover calmness if so you can supply your want of belief in me by a little rational inference you can see I presume that if I had had any intention of furthering Spinney's plot I should now be aware that the possession of a fair piagnone from my wife who knows the secret of the plot would be a serious obstacle in my way Tito assumed the tone which was just then the easiest to him but in Ramola's present mood persuasive deprecation would be lost upon her yes Tito she said in a low voice I think you believe that I would guard the Republic from further treachery you are right to believe it if the frate is betrayed I will denounce you she paused a moment and then said with an effort but it was not so I have perhaps spoken too hastily you never meant it only why will you seem to be that man's comrade such relations are inevitable to practical men my Ramola said Tito gratified by discerning the struggle within her you fair creatures live in the clouds pray go to rest with an easy heart he added opening the door for her End of Chapter 46 Chapter 47 of Ramola This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Ramola by George Elliott Chapter 47 Check Tito's clever arrangements have been unpleasantly frustrated by trivial incidents which could not enter into a clever man's calculations it was very seldom that he walked with Ramola in the evening yet he had happened to be walking with her precisely on this evening when her presence was supremely inconvenient life was so complicated a game that the devices of skill were liable to be defeated at every turn by air-blown chances incalculable as the descent of Thistledown it was not that he minded about the failure of Spinney's plot but he felt an awkward difficulty in so adjusting his warning to Savonarola on the one hand and to Spinney on the other as not to incur suspicion suspicion roused in the popular party might be fatal to his reputation and ostensible position in Florence suspicion roused in Dolfo's Spinney might be as disagreeable in its effects as the hatred of a fierce dog not to be chained if Tito went forthwith to the monastery to warn Savonarola before the monks went to rest his warning would follow so closely on his delivery of the forged letters that he could not escape unfavourable surmises he could not warn Spinney at once without telling him the true reason since he could not immediately allege the discovery that Savonarola had changed his purpose and he knew Spinney well enough to know that his understanding would discern nothing but that Tito had turned round and frustrated the plot on the other hand by deferring his warning to Savonarola until the morning he would be almost sure to lose the opportunity of warning Spinney that the fratte had changed his mind and the band of compagnacci would come back in all the rage of disappointment this last however was the risk he chose trusting to his power of soothing Spinney assuring him that the failure was due only to the fratte's caution Tito was annoyed if he had had to smile it would have been an unusual effort to him he was determined not to encounter Ramola again and he did not go home that night she watched through the night and never took off her clothes she heard the rain become heavier and heavier she liked to hear the rain the stormy heavens seemed a safeguard against men's devices compelling them to inaction and Ramola's mind was again assailed not only by the utmost doubt of her husband but by doubters to her own conduct what lie might he not have told her what project might he not have of which she was still ignorant everyone who trusted Tito was in danger it was useless to try and persuade herself of the contrary and was not she selfishly listening to the promptings of her own pride when she shrank from warning men against him if her husband was a mal-factor her place was in the prison by his side that might be she was contented to fulfil that claim but was she a wife to allow a husband to inflict the injuries that would make him a mal-factor when it might be in her power to prevent them prayer seemed impossible to her the activity of her thought excluded a mental state of which the essence was expectant passivity the excitement became stronger and stronger her imagination in a state of morbid activity conjured up possible schemes by which, after all, Tito would have eluded her threat and towards daybreak the rain became less violent till at last it ceased the breeze rose again and dispersed the clouds and the morning fell clear on all the objects around her it made her uneasiness all the less enjoyable she wrapped her mantle round her and ran up to the lodger as if there could be anything in the wide landscape that might determine her action as if there could be anything but roofs hiding the line of street along which Savonarola might be walking towards betrayal if she went to her godfather might she not induce him without any specific revelation to take measures for preventing Fragirolamo from passing the gates but that might be too late Ramola thought, with new distress, that she had failed to learn any guiding details from Tito and it was already long past seven she must go to San Marco there was nothing else to be done she hurried down the stairs she went out into the street without looking at her sick people and walked at a swift pace along the Via de Bardi towards the Ponte Vecchio she would go through the heart of the city it was the most direct road and besides, in the great piazza there was a chance of encountering her husband who by some possibility to which she still clung might satisfy her of the fratis' safety and leave no need for her to go to San Marco when she arrived in front of the Palazzo Vecchio she looked eagerly into the pillard court then her eyes swept the piazza but the well-known figure, once painted in her heart by young love and now branded there by eating pain nowhere to be seen she hurried straight under the piazza del Duomo it was already full of movement there were worshippers passing up and down the marble steps there were men pausing for chat and there were market people carrying their burdens between those moving figures Ramola caught a glimpse of her husband on his way from San Marco he had turned into Nello's shop and was now leaning against the doorpost as Ramola approached she could see that he was standing and talking with the easiest air in the world holding his cap in his hand and shaking back his freshly combed hair the contrast of this ease with the bitter anxieties he had created convulsed her with indignation the new vision of his hardness heightened her dread she recognized Cronaca and two other frequenters of San Marco standing near her husband it flashed through her mind she will compel him to speak before these men and her light step brought her close upon him before he had time to move while Cronaca was saying here comes Madonna Ramola a light shock passed through Tito's frame as he felt himself face to face with his wife she was haggard with her anxious watching but there was a flash of something else than anxiety in her eyes as she said is the frate gone beyond the gates? Tito said, feeling completely helpless before this woman and needing all the self-command he possessed to preserve accountants in which there should seem to be nothing stronger than surprise and you are certain that he is not going? she insisted I am certain that he is not going that is enough? said Ramola and she turned up the steps to take refuge in the Duomo till she could recover from her agitation Tito never had a feeling so near hatred as that with which his eyes followed Ramola retreating up the steps there were present not only genuine followers of the frate but Sir Ciccone, the notary who at that time like Tito himself was secretly an agent of the Medicines Sir Francesco di Sir Barone more briefly known to infamy as Sir Ciccone was not learned, not handsome not successful and the reverse of generous he was a traitor without charm it followed that he was not fond of Tito Malema End of Chapter 47 Chapter 48 of Ramola this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Ramola by George Elliot Chapter 48 Counter-Check it was late in the afternoon when Tito returned home Ramola seated opposite the cabinet in her narrow room copying documents was about to desist from her work because the light was getting dim when her husband entered he had come straight to this room to seek her with a thoroughly defined intention and there was something new to Ramola in his manner and expression as he looked at her silently on entering and without taking off his cap and mantel leaned one elbow on the cabinet and stood directly in front of her Ramola fully assured during the day of the Flattie's safety was feeling the reaction of some penitence for the access of distrust and indignation which had compelled her to address her husband publicly on a matter that she knew he wished to be private she told herself that she had probably been wrong the scheming duplicity which she had heard even her godfather elude to inseparable from party tactics might be sufficient to account for the connection with Spinney without this opposition that Tito had ever meant to further the plot she wanted to atone for her impetuosity by confessing that she had been too hasty and for some hours her mind had been dwelling on the possibility that this confession of hers might lead to other frank words breaking the two-year silence of their hearts the silence had been so complete that Tito was ignorant of her having fled from him and come back again they had never approached an avowal of that past which, both in its young love and in the shock that shattered the love they locked away from them like a banquet room where death had once broken the feast she looked up at him with that submission in her glance which belonged to her state of self-reproof but the subtle change in his face and manner arrested her speech for a few moments they remained silent looking at each other Tito himself felt that a crisis was come in his married life the husband's determination to mastery which laid deep below all blandness and beseechingness had risen permanently to the surface now and seemed to alter his face as a face is altered by a hidden muscular tension with which a man is secretly throttling or stamping out the life from something feeble or dangerous Ramola, he began in the cool liquid tone that made her shiver it is time that we should understand each other he paused that is what I most desire Tito she said frankly her sweet pale face with all its anger gone and nothing but the timidity of self-doubt in it seemed to give a marked predominance to her husband's dark strength you took a step this morning Tito went on which you must now yourself perceive to have been useless which exposed you to remark and may involve me in serious practical difficulties I acknowledged that I was too hasty I'm sorry for any injustice I may have done you Ramola spoke these words in a fuller and firmer tone Tito she hoped would look less hard when she had expressed her regret and then she could say other things I wish you once for all to understand he said without any change of voice that such collisions are incompatible with our position as husband and wife I wish you to reflect on the mode in which you were led to that step that the process may not be repeated that depends chiefly on you Tito said Ramola taking fire slightly it was not at all what she had thought of saying but we see a very little way before us in mutual speech you would say I suppose answered Tito that nothing is to occur in future which can excite your unreasonable suspicions you were frank enough to say last night that you have no belief in me I am not surprised at any exaggerated conclusion that you may draw from slight premises but I wish to point out to you what is likely to be the fruit of your making such exaggerated conclusions a ground for interfering in affairs of which you are ignorant your attention is thoroughly awaited to what I am saying he paused for a reply yes said Ramola flushing an irrepressible resentment of this cold tone of superiority well then it may possibly not be very long before some other chance words or incidents set your imagination at work devising crimes for me and you may perhaps rush to the Palazzo Vecchio to alarm the Signoria and set the city in an uproar shall I tell you what may be the result not simply the disgrace of your husband to which you look forward with so much courage but the arrest and ruin of many among the chief men in Florence including Messo Bernardo del Nero Tito had meditated a decisive move and he had made it the flesh died out of Ramola's face and her very lips were pale an unusual effect with her little subject of fear Tito perceived his excess you would perhaps flatter yourself he went on that you are performing a heroic deed of deliverance you might as well try to turn locks with fine words as apply such notions to the politics of Florence the question now is not whether you can have any belief in me but whether now you have been warned you will dare to rush like a blind man with a torch in his hand amongst intricate affairs of which you know nothing Ramola felt as if her mind were held in advice by Tito's the possibilities he had indicated were rising before her with terrible clearness I'm too rash she said I will try not to be rash remember said Tito with unsparing insistence that your act of distrust towards me this morning might for what you knew had more fatal effect than that sacrifice of your husband which you have learnt to contemplate without flinching Tito it is not so Ramola burst forth in a pleading tone rising and going near to him with a desperate resolution to speak out it is false that I would willingly sacrifice you it has been the greatest effort of my life to cling to you I went away in my anger two years ago and I came back again because I was more bound to you than to anything else on earth but it is useless you shut me out from your mind you affect the think of me as a being too unreasonable to share in the knowledge of your affairs you will be open with me about nothing she looked like his good angel pleading with him as she bent her face towards him with dilated eyes and laid her hand upon his arm but Ramola's touch and glance no longer stirred any fibre of tenderness in her husband the good-humoured, tolerant Tito incapable of hatred, incapable almost of impatience disposed always to be gentle towards the rest of the world felt himself becoming strangely hard towards this wife whose presence had once been the strongest influence he had known with all his softness of disposition he had a masculine effectiveness of intellect and purpose which, like sharpness of edge, is itself an energy working its way without any strong momentum Ramola had an energy of her own which thwarted his and no man who was not exceptionally feeble will endure being thwarted by his wife marriage must be a relation either of sympathy or of conquest no emotion darted across his face as he heard Ramola for the first time speak of having gone away from him his lips only looked a little harder as he smiled slightly and said My Ramola, when certain conditions are ascertained we must make up our minds to them no amount of wishing will fill the arnal as your people say or turn a plum into an orange I have not observed even that prayers have much efficacy that way you are so constituted as to have certain strong impressions inaccessible to reason I cannot share those impressions and you have withdrawn all trust from me in consequence you have changed towards me it has followed that I have changed towards you it is useless to take any retrospect we have simply to adapt ourselves to altered conditions Tito it would not be useless for us to speak openly said Ramola with the sort of exasperation that comes from using living muscles against some lifeless insurmountable resistance it was the sense of deception in you that changed me and that has kept us apart and it is not true that I changed first you changed towards me the night you first wore that chain armour you had some secret from me it was about that old man and I saw him again yesterday Tito she went on again in an agonised entreaty if you would once tell me everything let it be what it may I would not mind pain that there might be no wall between us is it not possible that we could begin a new life this time there was a flash of emotion across Tito's face he stood perfectly still but the flash seemed to have whitened him he took no notice of Ramola's appeal but after a moment's pause said quietly your impetuosity about Trifl's Ramola has a freezing influence that would cool the baths of Nero at these cutting words Ramola shrank and drew herself up into her usual self-sustained attitude Tito went on if by that old man you mean the mad Draconna di Nola who attempted my life and made a strange accusation against me of which I told you nothing because it would have alarmed you to no purpose he, poor, wretch, has died in prison I saw his name in the list of dead I know nothing about his accusation, said Ramola but I know he is the man whom I saw with the rope round his neck in the dormo the man whose portrait Piero di Cosimo painted grasping your arm as he saw him grasp it the day the French entered the day you first wore the armour and where is he now, pray? said Tito, still pale, but governing himself he was lying lifeless in the street from starvation, said Ramola I revived him with bread and wine I brought him to our door but he refused to come in then I gave him some money and he went away without telling me anything but he had found out that I was your wife who is he? half mad, half imbecile who was once my father's servant in Greece and who has a rancorous hatred towards me because I got him dismissed for theft now you know the whole mystery and the further satisfaction of knowing that I am again in danger of assassination the fact of my wearing the armour about which you have thought so much must have led you to infer that I was in danger from this man was that the reason you chose to cultivate his acquaintance and invite him into the house? Ramola was mute to speak was only like rushing with bare breasts against a shield Tito moved from his leaning posture slowly took off his capped mantle and pushed back his hair he was collecting himself for some final words and Ramola stood upright looking at him as she might have looked at some oncoming deathly force to be met only by silent endurance we need not refer to these matters again Ramola he said precisely in the same tone as that in which he had spoken at first it is enough if you will remember that next time your generous ardour leads you to interfere in political affairs you are likely not to save anyone from danger but to be raising scaffolds and setting houses on fire you are not yet a sufficiently ardent Pianone to believe that Mesa Bernardo de Nero is the Prince of Darkness and Mesa Francesco Valore the Archangel Michael I think I need demand no promise from you I have understood you too well Tito it is enough he said leaving the room Ramola turned round with despair in her face and sank into her seat oh god I tried I cannot help it we shall always be divided those words passed silently through her mind unless she said aloud as if some sudden vision had startled her into speech unless misery should come and join us Tito too had a new thought in his mind after he had closed the door behind him with the project of leaving Florence as soon as his life there had become a high enough stepping stone to a life elsewhere perhaps at Rome or Milan there was now for the first time associated a desire to be free from Ramola and to leave her behind him she had ceased to belong to the desirable furniture of his life there was no possibility of an easy relation between them without genuineness on his part genuineness implied confession of the past and confession involved a change of purpose but Tito had as little bent that way as a leopard has to lap milk when its teeth are grown from all relations that were not easy and agreeable we know Tito shrank why should he cling to them? and Ramola had made his relations difficult with others besides herself he had had a troublesome interview with Dolfo Spinney who had come back in a rage after an ineffectual soaking with rain and long waiting in ambush and that scene between Ramola and himself at Nello's door once reported in Spinney's ear might be a seed of something more unmanageable than suspicion but now at least he believed that he had mastered Ramola by a terror which appealed to the strongest forces of her nature he had alarmed her affection and her conscience by a shadowy image of consequences he had arrested her intellect by hanging before it the idea of a hopeless complexity in affairs which defied any moral judgment yet Tito was not at ease the world was not yet quite cushioned with velvet and if it had been he could not have abandoned himself to that softness with thorough enjoyment for before he went out again this evening he put on his coat of chain armour End of Chapter 48 Chapter 49 of Ramola 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 Felicity Campbell Ramola Chapter 49 The Pyramid of Vanities The wintry days passed for Ramola as the fight ships pass one who is standing lonely on the shore passing in silence and sameness yet each bearing a hidden burden of coming change Tito's hint had mingled so much dread with her interest in the progress of public affairs that she had begun to court ignorance rather than knowledge threatening German Emperor was gone again and in other ways besides the position of Florence was alleviated but so much distress remained that Ramola's active duties were hardly diminished and in these as usual her mind found a refuge from its doubt she dared not rejoice that the relief which had come in extremity and had appeared to justify the policy of the Friday's party was making that party so triumphant that Francesco Valori, hot tempered chieftain of the Pianoni had been elected con fallanieri at the beginning of the year and was making haste to have as much of his own liberal way as possible during his two months of power that seemed for the moment like a strengthening of the party most attached to freedom and a reinforcement of protection to Savranola but Ramola was now alive to every suggestion likely to deepen her foreboding that whatever the present might be it was only an unconscious brooding over the mixed germs of change which might any day become tragic and already by carnival time a little after mid-February her pre-sentiment was confirmed by the signs of a very decided change the Medicians had ceased to be passive and were openly exerting themselves to procure the election of Bernardo del Nero as the new con fallanieri on the last day of the carnival between 10 and 11 in the morning Ramola walked out according to promise towards the Corso d'Alie albice to fetch her cousin Brigida that they might both be ready to start from the Via del Badi early in the afternoon and take their places at a window which Tito had had reserved for them in the Piazza della Signoria where there was to be a scene of so new and striking a sort that all Florentine eyes must desire to see it for the Pianoni were having their own way thoroughly about the mode of keeping the carnival in vain Dolpho Spini and his companions had struggled to get up the dear old masks and practical jokes well spiced with indecency such things were not to be in a city where Christ had been declared king Ramola set out in that languid state of mind with which everyone enters on a long day of sightseeing purely for the sake of gratifying a child or some dear childish friend the day was certainly an epoch in carnival keeping but this phase of reform had not touched her enthusiasm and she did not know that it was an epoch in her own life when another lot would begin to be no longer secretly but visibly entwined with her own she chose to go through the great Piazza that she might take a first survey of the unparalleled sight there while she was still alone entering it from the south she saw something monstrous and many coloured in the shape of a pyramid or rather like a huge fir tree 60 feet high with shelves on the branches widening and widening towards the base till they reached a circumference of 80 yards the Piazza was full of life slight young figures in white garments with olive reeds on the heads were moving to and fro about the base of the Pyramidal tree carrying baskets full of bright coloured things and mature forms some in the monastic frock some in the loose tunics and dark red caps of artists were helping and examining or else retreating to various points in the distance to survey the wondrous hole while a considerable group amongst whom Ramola recognised Piero di Cosimo standing on the marble steps of Organa's lodger seemed to be keeping aloof and discontent and scorn approaching nearer she paused to look at the multifarious objects ranged in predation from the base to the summit of the pyramid there were tapestries and brocades of immodest design pictures and sculptures held too likely to incite to vise there were boards and tables for all sorts of games playing cards along with the blocks for printing them dice and other apparatus for gambling there were worldly music books musical instruments and all the pretty varieties of looted drums, cymbal and trumpet there were masks and masquerading dresses used in the old carnival shows there were handsome copies of Ovid, Boccaccio, Petraca, Pulsi and other books of a vein or impure sort there were all the implements of feminine vanity rouge pots, false hair, mirrors, perfumes, powders and transparent veils intended to provoke inquisitive glances lastly at the very summit there was the unflattering effigy of a probably mythical Venetian merchant who was understood to have offered as heavy sum for this collection of marketable abominations and soaring above him in surpassing oddliness the symbolic figure of the old, debauched carnival this was the preparation for a new sort of bonfire the burning of vanities hidden in the interior of the pyramid was a plentiful store of dry fuel and gunpowder and on this last day of the festival at evening the pile of vanities was to be set ablaze to the sound of trumpets and the ugly old carnival was to tumble into the flames amid the songs of reforming triumph this crowning act of the new festivities could hardly have been prepared but for a peculiar organization which had been started by Savranola two years before the mass of the Florentine boyhood and youth was no longer left to its own genial promptings towards street mischief and crude disilluteness under the training of Fra Dominico a sort of lieutenant to Savranola lads and stipplings the hope of Florence were to have none but pure words on their lips were to have a zeal for unseen good that should put to shame the lukewarmness of their elders and were to know no pleasures save of an angelic sort singing divine praises and walking in white robes it was for them that the ranges of seats had been raised high against the walls of the Duomo and they had been used to hear Savranola appeal to them as the future glory of a city specially appointed to do the work of God these fresh-cheeked troops were the chief agents in the regenerated merriment of the new carnival which was a sort of sacred parody of the old had there been bonfires in the old time there was to be a bonfire now consuming impurity from off the earth had there been symbolic processions there were to be processions now but the symbols were to be white robes and red crosses and olive reeds emblems of peace and innocent gladness and the banners and images held aloft were to tell the triumphs of goodness had there been dancing in a ring under the open sky of the piazza to the sound of choral voices chanting loose songs there was to be dancing in a ring now but dancing of monks and laity and fraternal love and divine joy and the music was to be the music of hymns as for the collections from street passengers they were to be greater than ever not from gross and superfluous suppers but for the benefit of the hungry and needy and besides there was the collecting of the anathema or the vanities to be laid on the great pyramidal bonfire troops of young inquisitors went from house to house on this exciting business of asking that the anathema should be given up to them perhaps after the more avowed vanities had been surrendered Madonna at the head of the household had still certain little reddened balls brought from the leavened intended to produce on a sallow cheek a sudden bloom of the most ingenuous falsity if so let her bring them down and cast them into the basket of doom or perhaps she had ringlets and coils of dead hair if so let her bring them to the street door not on her head but in her hands and publicly renounced the anathema which hid the respectable signs of age under a ghastly mockery of youth and in reward she would hear fresh young voices pronounce a blessing on her and her house the beardless inquisitors organised into little regiments doubtless took to their work very willingly to coerce people by shame or other spiritual palting into the giving up of things that will probably vex them to part with is a form of piety to which the boyish mind is most readily converted if some obstinately wicked men got enraged and threatened the whip or the cudgel this also was exciting Savranola himself evidently felt about the training of these boys the difficulty weighing on all minds with noble yearnings towards great ends yet with that imperfect perception of means which forces the resort to some supernatural constraining influence as the only sure hope the Florentine youth had had very evil habits and foul tongues it seemed at first an unmixed blessing when they were got to shout VEVIE JESUS but Savranola was forced at last to say from the pulpit there is a little too much shouting of VEVIE JESUS this constant utterance of sacred words brings them into contempt let me have no more of that shouting till the next fester nevertheless as the long stream of white-robed youthfulness with its little red crosses and olive reeds had gone to the Duomo at dawn this morning to receive the communion from the hands of Savranola it was a sight of beauty and doubtless many of those young souls were laying up memories of hope and awe that might save them from ever resting a merely vulgar view of their work as men and citizens there is no kind of conscious obedience that is not an advance on lawlessness and these boys became the generation of men who fought greatly and endured greatly in the last struggle of their republic now in the intermediate hours between the early communion and dinnertime they were making their last perambulations to collect arms and vanities and this was why Ramola saw the slim white figures moving to and fro about the base of the Great Pyramid what think you of this folly Madonna Ramola said a brisk voice close to her ear your peononi will make l'inferno a pleasant prospect to ask if they are to carry things their own way on earth it's enough to fetch a cudgel over the mountains to see painters like Lorenzo di Credi and Young Baccio there helping to burn colour out of life in this fashion my good Piero said Ramola looking up and smiling at the grim man even you must be glad to see some of these things burnt look at those gurgles and wigs and rouge spots I have heard you talk as indignantly against those things as Fragio Lama himself what then said Piero turning round on her sharply I never said a woman should make a black patch of herself against the background Madonna Antigone it's a shame for a woman with your hair and shoulders to run into such nonsense leave it to women who are not worth painting what the most holy virgin herself has always been dressed well that's the doctrine of the church talk of heresy indeed and I should like to know what the excellent Mesa Barato what have said to the burning of the divine poets by these Farati who are no better in imitation of men than if they were onions with the bulbs uppermost look at that patraca sticking up beside a rouge pot do the idiots pretend that the heavenly Laura was a painted harridon and Bacaccio now do you mean to say Madonna Ramola you who are fit to be a model for a wise Saint Catherine of Egypt do you mean to say you have never read the stories of the immortal Mesa Giovanni it is true I have read them Piero said Ramola some of them are great many times over when I was a little girl I used to get the book down when my father was asleep so that I could read to myself said Piero in a fiercely challenging tone there are some things in them I do not want ever to forget said Ramola but you must confess Piero that a great many of those stories are only about low deceit for the lowest ends men do not want books to make them think like the advice as if life were a vulgar joke and I cannot blame Fragi or Lamo for teaching that we owe our time to something better yes yes it's very well to say so now you'll read them said Piero bitterly turning on his heel and walking away from her Ramola too walked on smiling at Piero's innuendo with a sort of tenderness towards the old painter's anger because she knew that her father would have felt something like it for herself she was conscious of no inward collision with a strict ensemble view of pleasure which tended to repress poetry in the attempt to repress vice sorrow and joy have each their peculiar narrowness and a religious enthusiasm like Saronola's which ultimately blesses mankind by giving the soul a strong propulsion towards sympathy with pain indignation against wrong and the subjugation of sensual desire must always incur the reproach of a great negation Ramola's life had given her an affinity for sadness which inevitably made her unjust towards merriment that subtle result of culture which we call taste misaddued by the need for deeper motive just as the nicer demands of the palette are annihilated by urgent hunger moving habitually amongst scenes of suffering and carrying a woman's heaviest disappointment in her heart the severity which allied itself with self renouncing beneficent strength had no dissonance for her End of Chapter 49 Recording by Felicity Campbell Hwanganui Book one for me dot com, New Zealand