A Jay of Italy. Bernard Edward Joseph Capes
a State's constitution or a man's—'tis the word's the thing. Ye woo not the truth, but her raiment. Hear'st me? I had a tutor once, a crabbed fellow called Montano.'
He yawned again. The prisoner below (Cola Montano himself) gasped slightly, and shot one stealthy glance his way. Lascaris sniggered.
'Surely, lord,' he said, 'we need no reminding while the man himself keeps his tongue.'
A half-suppressed snarl broke from the prisoner. Galeazzo, hunched on his cushions, stared vacantly before him.
'Ah!' he said, 'he could talk. I remember him, a midwife to the wind—as ye all be—as ye all be. What of the fellow?'
Lascaris wondered.
'Little, in truth, Magnificence, save in so far as your Magnificence was pleased to introduce his name.'
'Did I? I had forgot. What was the connection? Empty words, was it not, and vainglory and presumption?'
'And discontent. Add it thereto, Illustrious.'
'Discontent? Of what? The man prospers, I understand, on his school of all the virtues. Discontent? Why, hath he not risen to that independence of power that he dares lampoon his prince? Discontent?'
'Like Alexander, thou standest in his light, Theosutos.'
'Discontent?'
'Ay, that he should be twitted with having schooled a despot.'
'Why, true; he taught me how to score a lesson with a scourge. My shoulders could tell.'
'Gods! did he dare?'
'He dared. 'Twas a fellow of Roman mettle.'
'He would dare more now.'
'What?'
'A republic, so they say.'
'Ah! he should be the man for visions—a seer, an exorcist.'
'Short-sighted for a seer, Illustrious. The man cannot see the length of his own nose.'
'Yet may he see far. I would he were here.'
The prisoner, wrought at last beyond self-control, turned on the Greek and squirted a little shriek of venom—
'Yet through and through thee, thou loathsome, envious pimp!'
Then he whipped upon the other—
'And why not a republic, Galeazzo? Thy father Francesco was a republican at heart, else had he never given his son's leading-strings into my hands. There was a confederacy dreamed of in his day—Genoa, Milan, and Venice; Florence, Sienna, and Bologna. One rampart to the rolling Alps, one wall on which barbarian hordes might burst and waste themselves in foam. Northwards, a baffled sea; south, all Italy a tranquil haven, a watered garden, where knowledge with all its flowers should find space, and breathing-space to grow. Dost thou love Italy? Then why not a republic, Galeazzo?'
The Duke, as utterly impassive as if he were deaf, turned musingly to Lascaris.
'I heard one talk once,' said he, 'of a confederacy of republics, as who should say, An army all serfs. Words! The tails must obey the heads. Every ox knows it.'
'Saving the frog-ox,' giggled the Greek, 'who bursts himself in emulation.'
'Ah!' murmured the Duke, 'the frog-ox: see us tickle his self-puffery.'
He feigned to catch sight all at once of Montano. His eyes opened wide in astonishment: he held out his hands.
'What!' he cried, 'the man of visions! the very man! Come hither, old friend. I was but now speaking of thee.'
His guards permitting him, Montano sullenly mounted the steps, and stood facing the tyrant. His arms hung very plainly fettered before him; but the other never took his languid, smiling eyes from his face.
'Galeazzo,' said the scholar, harsh and quick, 'I did not write the epigrams; but no matter. You seek to make an example; I submit myself. It is the despot's part to lay hands on order and sobriety. Despatch, then. Thou wilt serve my ends better than thine own. Every blow to freedom is a link gone from thy mail.'
The Duke listened to him as if in bland wonder.
'Epigrams! An example!' he exclaimed. 'O, surely there is some mistake here.'
The thick brows of the prisoner contracted over his leaden eyes. He set his teeth, breathing between them. Galeazzo appealed to Lascaris:—
'Know'st aught of this?'
The Greek shook his head ineffably, licking his lips.
'No,' said Galeazzo, 'nor is it conceivable that my old friend and reprover should condescend to that meaner scourge. Jesu! for one of his learning and condition to incur the fate of the common lampooner. Why, I mind me how one was invited to a ragout minced of his own tongue.'
'Yes, Illustrious.'
'And another to having his couplets scored in steel on the soles of his feet.'
'Yes, Illustrious.'
'And yet another to boiling eggs under his arm-pits, since he was clever at hatching those winged epigrams'—he turned smoothly again to the tutor—'but not clever, as thou art, at reforming constitutions.'
He fell back, with a sleek and hateful smile; then, sighing suddenly, advanced his body again.
'I am troubled, Montano, I am troubled, and, since you chance to be here——'
He yielded the explanation to Lascaris.
'I weary of relating. Tell him of my symptoms, thou'—and he sunk once more into his cushions.
The Greek diagnosed, his shifty eyes refusing to encounter the hard inquisition of the other's:—
'His Magnificence is of late ever conscious of a face behind him, mournful and threatening. And still, if he turns to challenge it, it is behind him; and still behind, maddening him with a thought of something he can never overtake.'
Galeazzo fixed his burning eyes on the prisoner, as if, through all his mockery, the hunger of a hopeless hope betrayed his soul.
'Canst thou strike it away,' he whispered hoarsely, 'or at least tell me what it is?'
Montano growled:—
'Ghosts, and dead years, and eye-particles! This trash of pseudo-science—a saltimbanco braying in a doctor's skin! Less licence, Galeazzo, and more exercise—'tis all contained in that. This vision is but a swimming blot of bile.'
He was really half-deceived, half-convinced. The Duke seemed to listen reassured, then slowly rose, and, with an ingratiatory smile, patted his erst tutor's shoulder.
'Old honest friend,' he said, 'and ever true to the Roman in thee! Thou hast spoken as one might expect. Bile, is it—bile? and little wonder in this upset of constitutions. Ebbene! we will take instant means to throw it off.'
He made a sign to the chief of the guard below.
'Andrea!'
Lascaris slunk back with a little gloating smile. The officer brought up his men about Montano. The Duke murmured softly:—
'Take good Messer Cola, and—' he paused a little, gazing winningly into his captive's surprised, splenetic face—'and have him soundly flogged before the gate-house—to the bone, Andrea, tell Messer Jacopo.'
Before the luring treachery of this stroke the prisoner stood for one moment shocked, aghast. The next, as the guard seized him, he broke into a storm of vituperations and blasphemies, calling upon all the gods of Rome to protect him from a monster. Andrea crushed his mailed hand down on his writhing lips; he was dragged away struggling and screaming. As he disappeared Galeazzo descended mincingly to the hall, bent on pursuing the show. A cloud of courtiers, male and female flocked, like rooks following a plough, in his wake. As he left the citadel and was crossing the outer ward, two ladies—one a young woman in her late twenties; the other a slim, pale girl of thirteen—broke from