Читать книгу Gowrie; or, the King's Plot - G. P. R. James - Страница 16

On the 15th of August, 1599, a young man was seen standing on one of the little bridges in the town of Padua. He was plainly dressed in an ordinary riding habit of that period, having a short black cloak over his shoulders, a tawny suit of cloth below, and a high crowned hat with a plume of feathers falling on one side. In most respects his apparel indicated no higher station than that of a respectable citizen, and indeed citizens of his age, for he could not be more than two-and-twenty, very frequently displayed more gaudy feathers, although the bird they covered might be of inferior race. There were, however, one or two marks about him which seemed to point out a superior station. Instead of a large fraise or ruff round his neck, which was then still common, he wore a falling collar of the richest and most delicate lace, tied in front of the throat by a silver cord and tassel; and though the sheath of his long rapier was merely of black leather, the hilt of the weapon, as well as that of the dagger to his girdle, was of silver exquisitely wrought. His large buckskin gloves, too, were edged with a silver fringe, and embroidered upon the back. In person he was tall and finely formed, with a highly intelligent and expressive countenance, somewhat stern and determined, indeed, for one so young, but yet with a strange mingling of lofty thoughtlessness and careless ease. He was perfectly alone, though on that day the citizens of Padua were all in full holiday, the bells of the churches ringing, and the cannon firing from the ramparts. Every one seemed to have got a companion but himself; and all the streets in the interior of that city of numberless arcades, were thronged with groups celebrating the holiday, the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, while he stood alone on the little bridge, as I have said, near the Ferara gate, which was left to comparative solitude by the populace, who were flocking to the churches. He remained in the same spot for more than a quarter of an hour, sometimes leaning his arms on the parapet of the bridge, and gazing down into the shining water, or watching the labours of a stout man, less devout than his neighbours, who still continued his work in one of the boats, with his white shirt and his bright blue breeches reflected in the painted mirror below--sometimes looking up the street which led to the bridge, amongst the arches of which, groups of men and women in gay attire were seen, appearing and disappearing as they crossed from one side to the other. The bright sunshine of Italy was pouring in oblique lines through the openings of the street, and as it caught from time to time upon the brilliant dresses of the passing inhabitants, the effect was strange and pleasing; and a city, the narrow streets and dim arcades of which generally rendered its aspect somewhat gloomy, was now all life and gaiety. The young stranger did not seem to take part in the general merriment: not that he looked sad or even grave, for when he turned his eyes up the street, and caught sight of any of the moving groups which it presented, a smile came upon his lip, somewhat sarcastic it is true, as if he regarded with a certain portion of contempt the rejoicings of the people or the occasion which called them forth, but yet cheerful and free, as of a mind untroubled which could afford to find amusement in the little follies of others.

When he had remained in that same spot for nearly a quarter of an hour, the loiterer was joined by another, a much more gaily habited cavalier. The latter was about the same age, or perhaps a year or two older, not quite so tall as his companion, though still a tall man, darker in complexion, and powerfully though lightly made. His step was free, his look open and sparkling; and though his features were not strikingly handsome, yet his countenance was exceedingly pleasing, and not the less striking from some degree of irregularity.

"Ever exact to time and place, Signor Johannes," said the latter, grasping the hand of him who had been waiting; "and now, I dare say, you have been accusing my tardiness and want of punctuality; but, upon my life, what between folly in the morning, study at mid-day, business in the afternoon, and emotions in the evening, I have had my hands full; so be not angry, good my lord."

"Heaven forbid," replied the other; "he that were angry with want of punctuality in you, Hume, would quarrel with a lark for singing, or an owl for hooting, and might spend his whole time in fretting his spirit at the nature of his friend. Besides, you made no promise to be here. I wrote, fixing my own hour, and taking my chance of its suiting you."

"But why all this mystery, and why this sober suit?" exclaimed the other, taking hold of his cloak, with a gay laugh; "this smells strongly of Geneva; and your brown jerkin is worthy of a true disciple of Beza. In pity, John, do not let him affect the outward man. Be as rigid as you will in resisting the powers of the Babylonian lady on your heart and mind, but do not carry your religion into taffeta, or suffer tenets to interfere with silk and satin. The religion that kills one innocent joy, is not the religion of Him who more than once told us to rejoice; and I cannot help thinking, that those who prescribe particular clothing for particular ceremonies, and those who proscribe it upon all occasions, are equally foolish and wrong."

"And so do I," answered his companion; "you will not find me altered in the least in those things; but the cause of my homely suit, and the mystery of my coming is the same, and very simple. I did not wish to be recognised by any of our good teachers here in this learned university, nor by any of our old companions but yourself. To show you, however, that I am no fanatic, know that I am even now on my way to Rome, to see the wonders of the eternal city and his holiness the Pope, though I shall not certainly ask his blessing, from a very strong doubt of its doing me any good."

"There I agree with you," replied his friend; "though the blessing of a good man can never do one any harm, and there might be worse men than Clement; but what have you done with your retinue? Where are all the servants, where the famous tutor, Dominie Rhind?"

"Gone on to Monselice," replied the other, "there to wait for my coming, if they can find room in the little inn, and if not, to travel farther, to Rovigo. But you have my messenger with you, have you not? I bade him wait my coming."

"Good sooth have I," answered the other, "and the mad knave has kept the whole of Padua in an uproar for the last three days. What between jeering the men, making love to the women, and playing with the children, he has made friends and enemies enough to serve a man a lifetime."

"He is incorrigible!" said his friend, with an air of vexation. "I was forced to send him away from Geneva, for Beza would not tolerate him, and I loved not to see the good old man distressed. But the fellow promised amendment, and he is so attached and faithful, that his virtues and his vices, like a Spanish olla, are blended into a very savoury dish, though of the most opposite ingredients. I laid strict injunctions upon him to be discreet, and above all, never to mention my name."

"That last point of discretion he has most strictly maintained," replied the more gaily dressed cavalier; "for even to me he has never pronounced the forbidden word, always expressing his meaning by some periphrasis, such as 'the noble gentleman you wot of,' 'the worshipful writer of the letter,' 'him who shall be nameless,' and so forth, ever eking out the sense with a raised eyebrow and thumb jerked back over his shoulder, as if he were speaking of the devil, and owned Beelzebub for his master. But now let us to your inn, where supper and a small room are provided for you according to your behest, and there you shall tell me what has brought you back to this fair Italian land, and I will relate what has occurred to me since last we met."

"My errand in Italy is soon told," said his comrade, with a smile. "I come to buy some pictures to adorn my poor house at Perth. It were a shame to have dwelt so long in Italy, and not to carry back something of the Caracci's handiwork. I will see Annibale, and Ludovick too, and Caravaggio. I have heard, too, of a young painter named Reni--Guido Reni they call him, who is now making some noise at Bologna. One picture said to be his I have seen, full of grace and beauty, and if he so paint he will soon be famous in all the world--why do you laugh?"

"Because I judge pictures alone brought you not to Padua," replied his companion; "for in good sooth there are few worth seeing here, except St. Anthony preaching to the fishes."

"A very unprofitable waste of good doctrine," said the other; "but let us go--yet, we will choose the dull back streets which the students love not, for I do not wish them to see their late Lord Rector coming amongst them in masquerade."

"Come, then, under the walls," answered the other; and, leading the way, he conducted his friend through several of the low and narrow streets which abutted upon the defences, hardly meeting any one but a labourer and an old woman or two in miserable rags, seeking amongst the piles of rubbish, thrown out here and there in the open spaces between the walls and the houses, for anything that poverty could make valuable. At length they were obliged to turn into one of the larger streets; but ten steps therein brought them to a narrow doorway under one of the arcades, where they entered and mounted a long dirty stair. At the first landing was a door on the left, through which they passed into a little ante-room, where at a table was seated a young man dressed as a servant, but without badge or cognizance, as was usual with the domestics of great families at that period. If one might judge from his face, which was ugly enough to be funny, and funny enough to be beautiful--I do not love paradoxes, but I am driven into one--he was not a personage very much given to grave contemplations. Nevertheless, on the present occasion he was so seriously occupied with the piece of work he had in hand, that for an instant he did not observe the entrance of the two gentlemen we have mentioned. That piece of work was indeed a very important and elaborate one, at least in his opinion--namely, the cutting out, in small blocks of soft wood, a variety of grotesque heads, in which his inventive genius displayed itself by producing noses such as never were seen on any human countenance, eyes of every degree of obliquity, and chins, some retreating, as if afraid of the portentous nasal organ which overshadowed them, and some immeasurably protruded, as if to domineer over the mouth that yawned above. In truth he showed no small skill in sculpture, although his genius had taken rather an eccentric turn; and it was evident that he enjoyed his own performance very much, for his first salutation to his master was a loud laugh, as he contemplated the extraordinary physiognomy he had just carved. Then, awakening to the more sober realities of life, he started up, laying down the knife and wood upon the table, and saying, with a low bow, "Welcome to Padua, noble sir; better late than never; nothing's lost that is not at the bottom of the sea. It is a long lane that has never a turning. A man cannot be too late who has time enough."

"Spare your proverbs, good Master Jute," replied his master, the stranger who had been waiting on the bridge; "I find that, notwithstanding all your promises of reformation and sobriety, you have been setting the whole town in an uproar."

"Not so, indeed, my noble lord; with the best intentions I have not had time to get through more than the French quarter. I hurried here as fast as possible, both to do your will and my own, seeing that I have been pent up like a brawn in a stye for the last three months; but still I have not had time enough. As for promises, although, like pie-crusts, they are made to be broken, and he who vows much performs little, yet, from a silly fondness for a whole skin and clear conscience, I never break mine; and I beseech your lordship to recollect that I only promised to behave well by the shores of Lake Leman."

"Well, well, we will talk more of that hereafter," replied his lord, following the other gentleman towards the inner room. "I find you have obeyed my injunction of not mentioning my name. See that you attend to it still. And now go and order them to bring my supper up, for I have ridden hard and fasted long."

The man made a low bow, and obeyed, while the two gentlemen proceeded into the neighbouring chamber, and the traveller, casting himself into a seat, said, with a sigh, the source of which might be difficult to discover, "So, here I am, once more in Padua."