The Bravo (55 page)

"Art thou equal to a great effort, in order that the innocent shall not
die?" he suddenly asked, though with a solemnity that denoted the
influence of a high and absorbing motive.

"Father!"

"I would know if thy love for the youth can sustain thee in a trying
scene; for without this effort he will surely perish!"

"I would die to save Jacopo a pang!"

"Deceive not thyself, daughter! Canst thou forget thy habits; overstep
the diffidence of thy years and condition; stand and speak fearlessly in
the presence of the great and dreaded?"

"Reverend Carmelite, I speak daily without fear, though not without awe,
to one more to be dreaded than any in Venice."

The monk looked in admiration at the gentle being, whose countenance
was glowing with the mild resolution of innocence and affection, and he
motioned for her to follow.

"We will go, then, before the proudest and the most fearful of earth,
should there be occasion," he resumed. "We will do our duty to both
parties, to the oppressor and the oppressed, that the sin of omission
lie not on our souls."

Father Anselmo, without further explanation, led the obedient girl into
that part of the palace which was known to be appropriated to the
private uses of the titular head of the Republic.

The jealousy of the Venetian patricians on the subject of their Doge is
matter of history. He was, by situation, a puppet in the hands of the
nobles, who only tolerated his existence, because the theory of their
government required a seeming agent in the imposing ceremonies that
formed part of their specious system, and in their intercourse with
other states. He dwelt in his palace like the queen-bee in the hive,
pampered and honored to the eye, but in truth devoted to the objects of
those who alone possess the power to injure, and perhaps we might add,
like the insect named, known for consuming more than a usual portion of
the fruits of the common industry.

Father Anselmo was indebted to his own decision, and to the confidence
of his manner, for reaching the private apartments of a prince, thus
secluded and watched. He was permitted to pass by various sentinels, who
imagined, from his holy calling and calm step, that he was some friar
employed in his usual and privileged office. By this easy, quiet method
did the Carmelite and his companion penetrate to the very ante-chamber
of the sovereign, a spot that thousands had been defeated in attempting
to reach, by means more elaborate.

There were merely two or three drowsy inferior officers of the household
in waiting. One arose quickly at the unexpected appearance of these
unknown visitors, expressing, by the surprise and the confusion of his
eye, the wonder into which he was thrown by so unlooked-for guests.

"His Highness waits for us, I fear?" simply observed Father Anselmo, who
had known how to quiet his concern, in a look of passive courtesy.

"Santa Maria! holy father, you should know best, but—"

"We will not lose more time in idle words, son, when there has already
been this delay—show us to the closet of his Highness."

"It is forbidden to usher any, unannounced, into the presence—"

"Thou seest this is not an ordinary visit. Go, inform the Doge that the
Carmelite he expects, and the youthful maiden, in whom his princely
bosom feels so parental an interest, await his pleasure."

"His Highness has then commanded—"

"Tell him, moreover, that time presses; for the hour is near when
innocence is condemned to suffer."

The usher was deceived by the gravity and assurance of the monk. He
hesitated, and then throwing open a door, he showed the visitors into an
inner room, where he requested them to await his return. After this, he
went on the desired commission to the closet of his master.

It has already been shown that the reigning Doge, if such a title can be
used of a prince who was merely a tool of the aristocracy, was a man
advanced in years. He had thrown aside the cares of the day, and, in the
retirement of his privacy, was endeavoring to indulge those human
sympathies that had so little play in the ordinary duties of his
factitious condition, by holding intercourse with the mind of one of the
classics of his country. His state was laid aside for lighter ease and
personal freedom. The monk could not have chosen a happier moment for
his object, since the man was undefended by the usual appliances of his
rank, and he was softened by communion with one who had known how to
mould and temper the feelings of his readers at will. So entire was the
abstraction of the Doge, at the moment, that the usher entered unheeded,
and had stood in respectful attention to his sovereign's pleasure, near
a minute before he was seen.

"What would'st thou, Marco?" demanded the prince, when his eye rose from
the page.

"Signore," returned the officer, using the familiar manner in which
those nearest to the persons of princes are permitted to indulge—"here
are the reverend Carmelite, and the young girl, in waiting."

"How sayest thou? a Carmelite, and a girl!"

"Signore, the same. Those whom your Highness expects."

"What bold pretence is this!"

"Signore, I do but repeat the words of the monk. 'Tell his Highness,'
said the father, 'that the Carmelite he wishes to see, and the young
girl in whose happiness his princely bosom feels so parental an
interest, await his pleasure.'"

There passed a glow, in which indignation was brighter than shame, over
the wasted cheek of the old prince, and his eye kindled.

"And this to me—even in my palace!"

"Pardon, Signore. This is no shameless priest, like so many that
disgrace the tonsure. Both monk and girl have innocent and harmless
looks, and I do suspect your Highness may have forgotten."

The bright spots disappeared from the prince's cheeks and his eye
regained its paternal expression. But age, and experience in his
delicate duties, had taught the Doge of Venice caution. He well knew
that memory had not failed him, and he at once saw that a hidden meaning
lay concealed beneath an application so unusual. There might be a device
of his enemies, who were numerous and active, or, in truth, there might
be some justifiable motive to warrant the applicant in resorting to a
measure so hardy.

"Did the Carmelite say more, good Marco?" he asked, after deep
reflection.

"Signore, he said there was great urgency, as the hour was near when the
innocent might suffer. I doubt not that he comes with a petition in
behalf of some young indiscreet, for there are said to be several young
nobles arrested for their follies in the carnival. The female may be a
sister disguised."

"Bid one of thy companions come hither; and when I touch my bell, do
thou usher these visitors to my presence."

The attendant withdrew, taking care to pass into the antechamber by
doors that rendered it unnecessary to show himself too soon to those who
expected his return. The second usher quickly made his appearance, and
was immediately dispatched in quest of one of the Three, who was
occupied with important papers in an adjoining closet. The senator was
not slow to obey the summons, for he appeared there as a friend of the
prince, having been admitted publicly, and with the customary honors.

"Here are visitors of an unusual character, Signore," said the Doge,
rising to receive him whom he had summoned in precaution to himself,
"and I would have a witness of their requests."

"Your Highness does well to make us of the Senate share your labors;
though if any mistaken opinion of the necessity has led you to conceive
it important to call a councillor each time a guest enters the
palace—"

"It is well, Signore," mildly interrupted the prince, touching the bell.
"I hope my importunity has not deranged you. But here come those I
expect."

Father Anselmo and Gelsomina entered the closet together. The first
glance convinced the Doge that he received strangers. He exchanged looks
with the member of the secret council, and each saw in the other's eye
that the surprise was mutual.

When fairly in the presence, the Carmelite threw back his cowl, entirely
exposing the whole of his ascetic features; while Gelsomina, awed by the
rank of him who received them, shrank abashed, partly concealed by his
robes.

"What means this visit?" demanded the prince, whose finger pointed to
the shrinking form of the girl, while his eye rested steadily on that of
the monk, "and that unusual companion? Neither the hour, nor the mode,
is customary."

Father Anselmo stood before the Venetian sovereign for the first time.
Accustomed, like all of that region, and more especially in that age, to
calculate his chances of success warily, before venturing to disburden
his mind, the monk fastened a penetrating look on his interrogator.

"Illustrious prince," he said, "we come petitioners for justice. They
who are thus commissioned had need be bold, lest they do their own
character, and their righteous office, discredit."

"Justice is the glory of St. Mark, and the happiness of his subjects.
Thy course, father, is not according to established rules and wholesome
restraints, but it may have its apology—name thy errand."

"There is one in the cells, condemned of the public tribunals, and he
must die with the return of day, unless your princely authority
interfere to save him."

"One condemned of the tribunals may merit his fate."

"I am the ghostly adviser of the unhappy youth, and in the execution of
my sacred office I have learned that he is innocent."

"Didst thou say, condemned of the common judges-father?"

"Sentenced to die, highness, by a decree of the criminal tribunals."

The prince appeared relieved. So long as the affair had been public,
there was at least reason to believe he might indulge his love of the
species, by listening further, without offence to the tortuous policy of
the state. Glancing his eye at the motionless inquisitor, as if to seek
approbation, he advanced a step nearer to the Carmelite, with increasing
interest in the application.

"By what authority, reverend priest, dost thou impeach the decision of
the judges?" he demanded.

"Signore, as I have just said, in virtue of knowledge gained in the
exercise of my holy office. He has laid bare his soul to me, as one
whose feet were in the grave; and, though offending, like all born of
woman, towards his God, he is guiltless as respects the state."

"Thinkest thou, father, that the law would ever reach its victim, were
we to listen only to self-accusations? I am old, monk, and have long
worn that troublesome cap," pointing to the horned bonnet, which lay
near his hand, the symbol of his state, "and in my day, I do not recall
the criminal that has not fancied himself the victim of untoward
circumstances."

"That men apply this treacherous solace to their consciences, one of my
vocation has not to learn. Our chief task is to show the delusion of
those, who, while condemning their own sins by words of confession and
self-abasement, make a merit of humility; but, Doge of Venice, there is
still a virtue in the sacred rite I have this evening been required to
perform, which can overcome the mounting of the most exalted spirit.
Many attempt to deceive themselves at the confessional, while, by the
power of God, few succeed."

"Praised be the blessed mother and the incarnate son, that it is so!"
returned the prince, struck by the mild faith of the monk, and crossing
himself reverently. "Father, thou hast forgotten to name the condemned?"

"It is a certain Jacopo Frontoni;—a reputed bravo," The start, the
changing color, and the glance of the prince of Venice, were full of
natural surprise.

"Callest thou the bloodiest stiletto that ever disgraced the city, the
weapon of a reputed bravo? The arts of the monster have prevailed over
thy experience, monk!—the true confession of such a wretch would be but
a history of bloody and revolting crimes."

"I entered his cell with this opinion, but I left it convinced that the
public sentiment has done him wrong. If your Highness will deign hear
his tale, you will think him a fit subject for your pity, rather than
for punishment."

"Of all the criminals of my reign, this is the last in whose favor I
could have imagined there was aught to be said!—Speak freely,
Carmelite; for curiosity is as strong as wonder."

So truly did the Doge give utterance to his feelings, that he
momentarily forgot the presence of the inquisitor, whose countenance
might have shown him that the subject was getting to be grave.

The monk ejaculated a thanksgiving, for it was not always easy, in that
city of mystery, to bring truth to the ears of the great. When men live
under a system of duplicity, more or less of the quality gets interwoven
with the habits of the most ingenuous, although they may remain
themselves unconscious of the taint. Thus Father Anselmo, as he
proceeded with the desired explanation, touched more tenderly on the
practices of the state, and used more of reserve in alluding to those
usages and opinions, which one of his holy calling and honest nature,
under other circumstances, would have fearlessly condemned.

"It may not be known to one of your high condition, sovereign prince,"
resumed the Carmelite, "that an humble but laborious mechanic of this
city, a certain Francesco Frontoni, was long since condemned for frauds
against the Republic's revenue. This is a crime St. Mark never fails to
visit with his heavy displeasure, for when men place the goods of the
world before all other considerations, they mistake the objects which
have brought them together in social union."

"Father, thou wert speaking of a certain Francesco Frontoni?"

"Highness, such was his name. The unhappy man had taken into his
confidence and friendship, one who, pretending to his daughter's love,
might appear to be the master of his secrets. When this false suitor
stood on the verge of detection, for offences against the customs, he
laid a snare of deception, which, while he was permitted to escape, drew
the anger of the state on his too confiding friend. Francesco was
condemned to the cells, until he might reveal facts which never had an
existence."