Read Don Tarquinio: A Kataleptic Phantasmatic Romance (Valancourt eClassics) Online
Authors: Frederick Rolfe,Fr. Rolfe,Baron Corvo
XVI
I had no more than a superficial knowledge of what was doing now. But I was returning to the City; and that sufficed for my satisfaction. Little vulgar boys gibed at my disgraceful aspect as I rode through the streets. At another time I would have cut out their tongues: but, then, I did not even stop to frown at them. Little simpering girls, going to mass with the nuns of their convent, pretended to shudder at the dirty, detestable, but not unshapely legs so shamelessly exposed: but I did not even kiss my fingers. Every moment now brought me nearer to my proper maid. I thought of nothing else as I flew along the road: but I grieved a little by cause that I had no spurs, and the whip (which I had snatched up at parting) was but a slight one. Moreover, I had left my poignard in the stable.
But, when I drummed with mine heels on my beast’s barrel, the sodden leather of my footgear emitted certain squelching noises, amusing to the rider, terrific to the ridden: for he augmented his speed in a very agreeable manner, not needing any other incitement.
So I came to Cinthyanum; and, having done my business with the postmaster, I pursued my course without drawing rein.
When I reached the summit of the hill by the ruins,
[1]
I saw (in the ravine before me) an approaching troop. Mine eyes were so blinded by my sweat and the dust of my furious riding, that (though I perceived the glint of the sun on loricate mail-coats and on cross-bows) I could not see clearly whether these were worn and borne by friends or foes.
But I knew that it was easier to ride through a squadron from an high place, than for an ascending squadron to obstruct precipitate attack. Wherefore I goaded mine horse to extra speed with terrific shoutings as well as with the thuds of mine heels; and it seemed that I was going very quickly.
But the beast, having run away four times for his own pleasure and being now constrained to run for mine, was becoming exhausted; and I myself was becoming sore and rather feeble from the stress of my night’s adventure: moreover, I was famishing with hunger. For which causes we came down the steep hill with less impetus than I had designed; and nothing would have been done at the bottom in the way of smashing a passage through the advancing troop.
The said troop, indeed, did not wait for the onslaught: but, to my immense surprise, ranged itself by the sides of the road laughing very loudly indeed.
But I, indignant at gratuitous contumely, erected myself on my saddle, straight and filthy (for I had come down the hill lying along the horse’s back the better to avoid wounds during the proposed swift passage); and I indignantly looked about for one of mine own estate whom I might call to account. And, while I was looking, my beast rocked and fell dead: but I made shift to leap clear of him, in order to meet mine own torture and death in a princely manner.
But I had fallen into no worse hands than those of the chubby Gioffredo. That one instantly began to chatter: to whose inquiries I would not respond, until he had dismounted one of his own kataphractors
[2]
in order to give me a new horse; and then I insisted that we should hasten toward the City.
So we galloped together like Kastor and Polydeykes: but the dismounted kataphractor rode a-pillion with one of his comrades. And, as we went, I gave a little news of my deeds to Gioffredo until my breath failed me. The remnant I kept for the business of riding as quickly as possible; for I was very anxious to make an end.
When I lapsed into silence, Gioffredo began to be garrulous. What he said was not important. He had spent an hour of the night with his wife at Traspontina. But it pleased me to hear that impatience and a kind heart had constrained him to leave long before the time, and had sent him so great a distance along the road to mine assistance. And I eagerly desired to reach the Lateran Gate: for there (so he said) the litter was waiting, wherein I longed to seclude myself, by cause of the sordid condition of my body, which shame forbade me to exhibit in the City, and by cause that fatigue was affecting me very gravely indeed.
Anon we reached the place; and, having been lifted on to the soft cushions, the curtains were drawn about me. Instantly I fell asleep: for which cause, o Prospero, I am unable to write the history of my progress from the Lateran Gate to the Estense Palace. But there I awoke, as the mules halted with a jerk in the first court.
I peeped between the curtains; and I saw the double-cross and the torches of the cardinal’s estate disappearing up the steps of the audience-chamber: from which portent I augured that it would be useless to try to approach Ippolito until such time when he should have finished the morn’s business of dispensing justice to his family.
But, that I might come at him as soon as possible, I advised Gioffredo to dismiss the decurions, and himself to accompany me as I was, mixing unnoted with the motley of clients, parasites, flatterers, men-at-arms, chamberlains, pages, chaplains, athletes, poets, painters, merchants, officials, secretaries, servitors, women, who were thronging into the audience-chamber.
So we did. But, though we were able to enter, we could not penetrate to the front of the crowd, having come in behind all the others. I myself was too drowsy and too stiff to care whether I spoke then or at another time. My only idea was to refrain from interrupting the natural order of events, and to wait for an opportunity: for I saw that my stars had become malignant. Wherefore I restrained Gioffredo from certain violent demonstrations which he was preparing; and together we found a corner quieter than the others.
Here, by the marble wall, we sat on the settle of marble, out of the stink and contusion of the mob at the front.
[1]
I don’t quite know what these ruins are, unless they are the remnants of the Villa of Vitellius on Monte Gentile: but, if this be the case, Don Tarquinio was off the main road. There are plenty of ravines between Genzano and Aricia, now spanned by the viaducts of Pius the Ninth.
[2]
Mail-clad cavalry with cross-bows. Pietrogorio’s tombstone at Velletri names him as the lieutenant of Caesar Borgia’s kataphractors.
XVII
In order to prevent myself from falling again into slumber, I carefully noted the white walls and the cornice of shields, spade-shaped, richly blazoned, and the Byzantine tapestries which depended therefrom. Nor did the grandeur of Ippolito on his vermilion throne, listening to the chaplains who intoned the Office of None, escape my notice. In the same manner I assiduously attended when the day’s business was begun. At first it was uninteresting.
While the auditors whispered advice in the cardinal’s ears, and while the secretaries recorded events in huge tomes or wrote at his dictation, I put myself to count the gilded coffers of the oaken roof. This casting upward of mine eyes made me more drowsy than ever: but I knew that, if once I permitted myself to sleep, my sleep would be a stupor from which even an earthquake would not awaken me. Wherefore I constrained myself to note all that was going on: lest I should lose a chance of declaring mine achievement. For it must be clear to thee, o Prospero, that, when I ran as the Cardinal of Valencia’s angel, I ran as the Cardinal of Ferrara’s familiar, to which last it behoved me to render an account as soon as possible, as well for relieving him from his obligation to the credentials sent by our Lord the Paparch as for mine own deliverance, first, from the filth of my body, secondly, from the rigour which was paralyzing my limbs, thirdly, from the Great Ban which so direly was afflicting me. For I did not doubt but that the last would be the reward of my running.
To pass the time, I entertained myself with thoughts of my maid, as soon as I had convinced Gioffredo of my determination to remain silent. He, being more than a little fatigued, took a nap, after cursing me for a sulky prince. I promised myself an abundance of felicity in the contemplation of Hersilia, when she should have heard of my
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leagues’ journey through the lonely night: for it is very pleasant to be pitied and admired by one’s lover when one has striven strenuously and successfully. I tried to be deaf to the hubbub in front of me, while I indulged my mind as aforesaid: but it was merely another insidious way to sleep. Wherefore, having rejected it, I dismissed my proper affairs, and alertly attended to the others. They were as follows.
The master of pages exhibited, to the cardinal, the monthly sheaf of the boys’ specimens of handwriting. Ippolito having inspected the same, dictated to a secretary to be written neatly on a bad one: “Gianlucido, write thus or better here and now.”
The master of pages retired, to see it done: but Ippolito signed some billets authorizing sundry expenditures for household stuff. The notary executed them; and the datary sealed them.
The steward brought a plebeian page, who had been caught in the act of spitting idly into the rainwater tank of the cardinal’s bathing-chamber. The rascal was condemned to be stripped in the courtyard, and to be spat upon by
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of his companions during half-an-hour. Order was issued for covering the said tank with stout canvas.
The mistress of the women shrilly complained that one Fulgencia, a laundry-maid, was refusing to be married by the barber’s son, to whom she had been betrothed one year. Interrogated whether she could shew cause for so culpable a defection, the said Fulgencia responded, saying: No. And sucked her thumb. The mistress of the women was impowered to whip her, in the presence of
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maids, every Friday at the ninth hour of the day, until the marriage should have been consummate. The said Fulgencia, having bellowed for instant nuptials, was conveyed to the chapel with the said barber’s son,
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witnesses, and one chaplain, to be married forthwith.
The oil-merchant appealed against the steward, who was intending to cause him to bear the loss of a consignment of his merchandize which had been stolen, on the Ostian Way, by brigands in the pay of the bandit Cardinal Giuliano Dellarovere desirous of building a new cathedral.
[1]
The said appeal was admitted.
The vegetable-merchant very brazenly came forward, producing a similar appeal. But the steward confronted him with proofs of his fraud. His appeal was rejected, and his privilege was cancelled; and the steward had commandment to purchase vegetables in future from the deceiver’s rival.
The slave-merchant offered for sale
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young Indian acrobats, saying that Cardinal Rafaele Riarj wished to have them. They performed divers tricks of agility, which Ippolito applauded; and he gave order that, on the physician certifying them to be healthy and their bodies without blemish, the treasurer should pay the price. They were extremely slim of figure; and their flesh was as yellow as dew-kissed pumpkins gleaming in the sunlight.
The chief equerry had order to water the horses daily in Tiber, beyond the Portuensian Gate, seeing that the Keltic army was gone away.
Order was issued for the burial of
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mercenaries, who had been found murdered outside the barbacan at dawn, having gone out at night without their mail-shirts. Order was issued for
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masses to be intoned for their souls’ repose.
Order was issued for
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masses to be intoned for the repose of the soul of one without a name, who had died improvisedly and suddenly.
The absurd Messer Nerone Diotisalvi was required on pain of the minor torments to apply himself more assiduously to his studies in the magic arts. For it will be clear to thee, o Prospero, that, had it not been for that mage’s ignorance of his proper craft, homicide would not have been necessary.
Permission was granted to the firelighter to become served by
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extra boys, if the weather should continue to be cold.
The new goldsmith offered a crucifix for purchase. Ippolito, having inspected the piece, gave order that the wretch should be buffeted by all and singular, from the audience-chamber to the gate of the barbacan, by cause that he contumeliously had used carelessness in making the Image of the Divine Heros.
A strange poet, in a dark-green wig resembling sea-weeds, declaimed a sonnet in praise of a bee’s nipples; and he was derided.
A very young painter, shy, rather rosy-faced, exhibited a panel whereon he had depicted the Divine Herakles and the gruesome Hydra. To whom the treasurer had order to pay
xx
gold sequins.
Ippolito complained that the tallow-scraper had neglected to scrape tallow from
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stairs, whereby the attire of a certain chamberlain (whose name I have forgotten) had been rendered indecorous, and the cardinalitial shins themselves liable to divers incommodious abrasions. The said misdemeanant was produced; and charged with his crime. He blubbered. Order was issued that he should tolerate
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stripes in honour of the Apostles. He yelled.
The master of the pages exhibited the amended specimen of handwriting. Ippolito, having denominated it still very evil, dictated to a secretary to be written very neatly thereupon: “Gianlucido, write thus or better before to-morrow, or bid farewell to thine hide.”
The captain of the mercenaries accused a Turkish arbalister of having murdered a baptized Dacian slinger treacherously, in a brawl, at the sixth hour of the night: also, of having torn out the said Dacian’s heart, eating the same, hot, in contempt of our most holy faith. Order was issued that the said Turk, having been conveniently tormented, should tolerate natural death by strangulation within the hour: that his carcase should hang in the place of exposition till avemmaria, and then be thrown into Tiber at a mile below the Portuensian Gate.
Two tormentors introduced the miscreant tallow-scraper before the dais, loudly bawling. He was a sturdy Trasteverino of about the age of
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years, dark-coloured and big-eyed, and tough and sinewy as a young wolf. Having placed him, they tied his wrists behind him with the end of a coil of rope, deftly tossing the other end over a beam in the roof, and pulling it taut; and so they waited.
Ippolito was smelling to an orange infected with rose-attar: for indeed the f
œ
tor of the mob in the audience-chamber was most putid. He threw the fruit to a favourite page; and I augured from the expression on his physiognomy that he was about to manifest abnormal sagacity. He pretended that he understood not the business which was afoot; and demanded the reason for these preparations.
The tallow-scraper ceased his clamour, concentrating his gaze on the cardinal.
The first tormentor responded, saying:
“The Most Illustrious Purpled Person will choose to hear the rogue’s confession of his crime.”
Ippolito said:
“We have heard.”
The first tormentor volubly expostulated, saying:
“But not under The Question, o Most Illustrious: for none can believe a creature who is neither clerk nor noble, unless he (first) shall have been hauled upward by the drawn-back wrists and (secondly) shall have been dropped suddenly to within a span from the floor. It is the torture of hanging from dislocated shoulders which alone insureth a true confession.”
Thus having spoken, he instantly pulled the rope; and the boy ascended high over the heads of all.
But that rascal, being very sinewy and very quick-witted, did not wait for the dislocation of his shoulders. For, drawing up his legs and clenching his teeth as he left the floor, he instantly pressed his bound hands downward on his buttocks, with admirable force, twisting round and round like an athlete.
Applause began to be heard. The boy’s throat curved stiffly backward; and his breasts and shoulders resembled tan-coloured knots as he hung up there. He bended his legs further and further back; and, by degrees, he contrived to grasp his own ankles, relaxing the strain on his sinews, and hanging face-downward in a delicate semicircle like a strung bow hanging by its string.
But Ippolito went on speaking to the tormentor, saying very quickly:
“What thou hast said is purely silly. Our chamberlain’s split hosen, and the tallow on Our stairs, proclaim the crime. The boy’s office is to look that Our floors lack tallow. No confession is needed, with The Question or without. Let him come down. Give him his whipping. And let him go to the treasurer for a rose-giulio
[2]
as the reward of dexterity. And then let him go to the master of the athletes, who hath order to take him in charge. And let the comptroller provide another tallow-scraper, who will do well not to waste Our tallow.”
When the boy came down, the first tormentor disappointedly untied his wrists; and, seizing them, hoisted him in the usual manner: while the other, having turned his garment over his head, scored
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criss-cross weals on his plunging hams with a cane.
Anon being released, the freshly sprouted athlete stifled his yells; and he instantly stood on his head with his arms and legs spread as widely apart as possible.
Everybody burst out laughing.
There was commotion at the door of the audience-chamber.
Gioffredo woke up and would have been precipitate: for chamberlains were announcing:
“The Exalted Tranquillity of the Tyrant Lucrezia Borgia-Sforza of Pesaro.”
Beating as quickly as possible then was the heart in my bosom, instantly sensing the coming of its mate in my maid’s.