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Chapter XVIChapter XVI
Chapter XVI
`Escape, escape, my good fellow! here is a convent; there is a church;
this way, that way,` was heard by Renzo on every side. As to escaping, the
reader may judge whether he would have need of advice on this head. From the
first moment that the hope of extricating himself from the talons of the
police had crossed his mind, he had begun to form his plans, and resolved, if
he succeeded in this one, to flee without delay, not only out of the city, but
also out of the duchy of Milan. - For, - thought he, - they have my name on
their black books, however on earth they`ve got it; and with my name and
surname, they can seize me whenever they like. - As to an asylum, he would not
willingly have recourse to one, unless, indeed, he were reduced to extremity;
- For, if I can be a bird of the woods, - thought he again, - I won`t be a
bird of the cage. - He had therefore designed as his limit and place of
refuge, a village in the territory of Bergamo, where his cousin Bortolo
resided, who, the reader may remember, had frequently solicited Renzo to
remove thither. But now the point was how to find his way there. Left in an
unknown part of a city almost equally unknown, Renzo could not even tell by
which gate he should pass to go to Bergamo; and when he had learnt this, he
still did not know the way to the gate. He stood for a moment in doubt whether
to ask direction of his liberators; but as, in the short time he had had for
reflection on his circumstances, many strong suspicions had crossed his mind
of that obliging sword - cutler, the father of four children, he was not much
inclined to reveal his intentions to a large crowd, where there might be
others of the same stamp; he quickly decided, therefore, to get away from that
neighbourhood as fast as he could; and he might afterwards ask his way in a
part where nobody would know who he was, or why he asked it. Merely saying,
then, to his deliverers, `Thank you, thank you, my friends: blessings on you!`
and escaping through the space that was immediately cleared for him, he took
to his heels, and off he went, up one little street, and down another, running
for some time without knowing whither. When he thought he was far enough off,
he slackened his pace, not to excite suspicion, and began looking around to
choose some person of whom he could make inquiries - some face that would
inspire confidence. But here, also, there was need of caution. The inquiry in
itself was suspicious; time pressed; the bailiffs, immediately on making their
escape from this rencontre, would, undoubtedly, renew their search of the
fugitive; the rumour of his flight might even have reached hither: and in such
a concourse, Renzo might carefully scrutinize a dozen physiognomies, before he
could meet with a countenance that seemed likely to suit his purpose. That fat
fellow, standing at the door of his shop, with legs extended, and his hands
behind his back, the prominent corpulency of this person projecting beyond the
doorway, and supporting his great double chin; who, from mere idleness, was
employing himself in alternately raising his tremendous bulk upon his toes,
and letting it sink again upon his heels - he looked too much like an
inquisitive gossip, who would have returned interrogatories instead of
replies. That other, advancing with fixed eyes and a drooping lip, instead of
being able expeditiously and satisfactorily to direct another in his way,
scarcely seemed to know his own. That tall, stout boy, who, to say the truth,
certainly looked intelligent enough, appeared also rather maliciously
inclined, and probably would have taken a mischievous delight in sending a
poor stranger exactly the opposite way to the one he was inquiring after. So
true is it that, to a man in perplexity, almost everything seems to be a new
perplexity! At last, fixing his eyes on one who was approaching in evident
haste, he thought that he, having probably some pressing business in hand,
would give an immediate and direct answer, to get rid of him; and hearing him
talking to himself, he deemed that he must be an undesigning person. He,
therefore, accosted him with the question, `Will you be good enough to tell
me, sir, which direction I should take to go to Bergamo?`
`To go to Bergamo? The Porta Orientale.`
`Thank you, sir: and to the Porta Orientale?`
`Take this street to the left; you will come out into the square of the
cathedral; then . . . `
`That will do, sir; I know the rest. Heaven reward you.` And on he went
by the way that had been pointed out to him. His director looked after him for
a moment, and comparing in his mind his way of walking, with the inquiry,
thought within himself, - Either he is after somebody, or somebody is after
him. -
Renzo reached the square of the cathedral, crossed it, passed by a heap
of cinders and extinguished combustibles, and recognized the relics of the
bonfire at which he had assisted the day before; he then passed along the
flight of steps leading up to the cathedral, and saw again the bakehouse of
the Crutches half demolished, and guarded by soldiers; still he proceeded
onward, and, by the street which he had already traversed with the crowd,
arrived in front of the convent of the Capuchins, where, glancing at the
square and the church - door, he said to himself with a deep sigh: - That
friar yesterday gave me good advice, when he bid me go wait in the church, and
employ myself profitably there. -
Here he stopped a moment to reconnoitre the gate through which he had to
pass; and seeing, even at that distance, many soldiers on guard, his
imagination also being rather overstrained, (one must pity him; for he had had
enough to unsettle it), he felt a kind of repugnance at encountering the
passage. Here he was, with a place of refuge close at hand, where, with the
letter of recommendation, he would have been well received; and he felt
strongly tempted to enter it. But he quickly summoned up his courage, and
thought: - A bird of the woods, as long as I can. Who knows me? Certainly the
bailiffs cannot have divided themselves into enough pieces to come and watch
for me at every gate. - He looked behind him to see if they were coming in
that direction, and saw neither them, nor any one who seemed to be taking
notice of him. He, therefore, set off again, slackened the pace of those
unfortunate legs which, with their own good will, would have kept constantly
on the run, when it was much better only to walk; and, proceeding leisurely
along, whistling in an under - tone, he arrived at the gate. Just at the
entrance there was a party of police - officers, together with a reinforcement
of Spanish soldiers; but these all had their attention directed to the
outside, to forbid entrance to such as, hearing the news of an insurrection,
would flock thither like vultures to a deserted field of battle; so that
Renzo, quietly walking on, with his eyes bent to the ground, and with a gait
between that of a traveller and a common passenger, passed the threshold
without any one speaking a word to him: but his heart beat violently. Seeing a
little street to the right, he took that way to avoid the high road, and
continued his course for some time before he ventured to look round.
On he went; he came to cottages and villages, which he passed without
asking their names: he felt certain of getting away from Milan, and hoped he
was going towards Bergamo, and this was enough for him at present. From time
to time he kept glancing behind him, while walking onwards, occasionally
looking at and rubbing one or other of his wrists, which were still a little
benumbed, and marked with a red line from the pressure of the manacles. His
thoughts were, as every one may imagine, a confused medley of repentance,
disputes, disquietude, revenge, and other more tender feelings; it was a
wearying endeavour to recall what he had said and done the night before, to
unravel the mysterious part of his mournful adventures, and, above all, how
they had managed to discover his name. His suspicions naturally fell on the
sword - cutler, to whom he remembered having spoken very frankly. And
retracing the way in which he had drawn him into conversation, together with
his whole behaviour, and those proffers which always ended in wishing to know
something about him, his suspicions were changed almost to certainty. He had,
besides, some faint recollection of continuing to chatter after the departure
of the cutler; but with whom? guess it, ye crickets; of what? his memory,
spite of his efforts, could not tell him this: it could only remind him that
he had not been at all himself that evening. The poor fellow was lost in these
speculations: he was like a man who has affixed his signature to a number of
blank formulae, and committed them to the care of one he esteemed honest and
honourable, and having discovered him to be a shuffling meddler, wishes to
ascertain the state of his affairs. What can he discover? It is a chaos.
Another painful speculation was how to form some design for the future that
would not be a merely aerial project, or at least a melancholy one.
By and by, however, he became still more anxious about finding his way;
and after walking for some distance at a venture, he saw the necessity of
making some inquiries. Yet he felt particularly reluctant to utter the word
`Bergamo,` as if there were something suspicious or dangerous in the name, and
could not bring himself to pronounce it. He resolved, however, to ask
direction, as he had before done at Milan, of the first passenger whose
countenance suited his fancy, and he shortly met with one.
`You are out of the road,` replied his guide; and having thought a
moment, he pointed out to him, partly by words and partly by gestures, the way
he should take to regain the high road. Renzo thanked him for his directions,
and pretended to follow them, by actually taking the way he had indicated,
with the intention of almost reaching the public road, and then, without
losing sight of it, to keep parallel with its course as far as possible, but
not to set foot within it. The design was easier to conceive than to effect,
and the result was, that, by going thus from right to left in a zigzag course,
partly following the directions he obtained by the way, partly correcting them
by his own judgment, and adapting them to his intentions, and partly allowing
himself to be guided by the lanes he traversed, our fugitive had walked
perhaps twelve miles, when he was not more than six distant from Milan; and as
to Bergamo, it was a great chance if he were not going away from it. He began
at last to perceive that by this method he would never come to an end, and
determined to find out some remedy. The plan that occurred to his mind was to
get the name of some village bordering on the confines, which he could reach
by the neighbouring roads: and by asking his way thither, he could collect
information, without leaving behind him the name of Bergamo, which seemed to
him to savour so strongly of flight, escape, and crime.
While ruminating on the best way of obtaining these instructions without
exciting suspicion, he saw a bush hanging over the door of a solitary cottage
just outside a little village. He had for some time felt the need of
recruiting his strength, and thinking that this would be the place to serve
two purposes at once, he entered. There was no one within but an old woman,
with her distaff at her side, and the spindle in her hand. He asked for
something to eat, and was offered a little stracchino^1 and some good wine; he
gladly accepted the food, but excused himself from taking any wine, feeling
quite an abhorrence of it, after the errors it had made him guilty of the
night before; and then sat down, begging the old woman to make haste. She
served up his meal in a moment, and then began to tease her customer with
inquiries, both about himself, and the grand doings at Milan, the report of
which had already reached here. Renzo not only contrived to parry and elude
her inquiries with much dexterity, but even profited by the difficulty, and
made the curiosity of the old woman subservient to his intentions, when she
asked him where he was going to.
`I have to go to many places,` replied he: `and if I can find a moment of
time, I want to pass a little while at that village, rather a large one, on
the road to Bergamo, near the border, but in the territory of Milan . . . What
do they call it?` - there must be one there, surely, - thought he, in the mean
while.
`Gorgonzola you mean,` replied the old woman.
`Gorgonzola!` repeated Renzo, as if to imprint the word better on his
memory. `Is it very far from here?` resumed he.
`I don`t know exactly; it may be ten or twelve miles. If one of my sons
were here, he could tell you.`
`And do you think I can go by these pleasant lanes without taking the
high road? There is such a dust there! such a shocking dust! It`s so long
since it rained!`
`I fancy you can: you can ask at the first village you came to, after
turning to the right.` And she named it.
`That`s well,` said Renzo; and rising, he took in his hand a piece of
bread remaining from his scanty meal, of a very different quality to that
which he had found the day before at the foot of the cross of San Dionigi; and
paying the reckoning, he set off again, following the road to the right hand.
By taking care not to wander from it more than was needful, and with the name
of Gorgonzola in his mouth, he proceeded from village to village, until, about
an hour before sunset, he arrived there.
[Footnote 1: A kind of soft cheese.]
During his walk, he had resolved to make another stop here, and to take
some rather more substantial refreshment. His body also craved a little rest;
but rather than gratify this desire, Renzo would have sunk in a swoon upon the
ground. He proposed gaining some information at the inn about the distance of
the Adda, to ascertain dexterously if there was any cross - road that led to
it, and to set off again, even at this hour, immediately after his repast.
Born and brought up at the second source, so to say, of this river, he had
often heard it said, that at a certain point, and for some considerable
distance, it served as a boundary between the Milanese and Venetian states; he
had no very distinct idea of where this boundary commenced, or how far it
extended; but, for the present, his principal object was to get beyond it. If
he did not succeed in reaching it that evening, he resolved to walk as long as
the night and his strength would allow him, and afterwards to wait the
approaching day in a field, or a wilderness, or wherever God pleased, provided
it were not an inn.
After walking a few paces along the street at Gorgonzola, he noticed a
sign, entered the inn, and on the landlord`s advancing to meet him, ordered
something to eat, and a small measure of wine; the additional miles he had
passed, and the time of day, having overcome his extreme and fanatical hatred
of this beverage. `I must beg you to be quick,` added he; `for I`m obliged to
go on my way again very soon.` This he said not only because it was the truth,
but also for fear the host, imagining that he was going to pass the night
there, should come and ask him his name and surname, and where he came from,
and on what business . . . But enough!
The landlord replied that he should be waited upon immediately; and Renzo
sat down at the end of the table, near the door, the usual place of the
bashful.
Some loungers of the village had assembled in this room, who, after
having argued over, and discussed, and commented upon, the grand news from
Milan of the preceding day, were now longing to know a little how matters were
going on; the more so, as their first information was rather fitted to
irritate their curiosity than to satisfy it; a sedition, neither subdued nor
triumphant; suspended, rather than terminated, by the approach of night; a
defective thing; the conclusion of an act, rather than of a drama. One of
these detached himself from the party, and seating himself by the new comer,
asked him if he came from Milan.
`I?` said Renzo, in a tone of surprise, to gain time for a reply.
`You, if the question is allowable.`
Renzo, shaking his head, compressing his lips, and uttering an
inarticulate sound, replied; `Milan, from what I hear . . . from what they say
around . . . is not exactly a place to go at present, unless in case of great
necessity.`
`Does the uproar continue, then, to-day?` demanded his inquisitive
companion more eagerly.
`I must have been there to know that,` said Renzo.
`But you - don`t you come from Milan?`
`I come from Liscate,` replied the youth, promptly, who, in the mean
while, had decided upon his reply. Strictly speaking, he had come from there,
because he had passed it; and he had learnt the name from a traveller on the
road, who had mentioned that village as the first he must pass on his way to
Gorgonzola.
`Oh! said his friend, in that tone which seems to say: You`d have done
better if you had come from Milan; but patience. `And at Liscate,` added he,
`did you hear nothing about Milan?`
`There may very likely have been somebody who knew something about it,`
replied the mountaineer, `but I heard nothing.` And this was proffered in that
particular manner which seems to mean: I`ve finished. The querist returned to
his party, and a moment afterwards, the landlord came to set out his meal.
`How far is it from here to the Adda?` asked Renzo, in an undertone, with
the air of one who is half asleep, and an indifferent manner, such as we have
already seen him assume on some other occasions.
`To the Adda - to cross it?` said the host.
`That is . . . yes . . . to the Adda.`
`Do you want to cross by the bridge of Cassano, or the Ferry of
Canonica?`
`Oh, I don`t mind where . . . I only ask from curiosity.`
`Well, I mention these, because they are the places gentlemen generally
choose, and people who can give an account of themselves.`
`Very well; and how far is it?`
`You may reckon that to either one or the other, it is somewhere about
six miles, more or less.`
`Six miles! I didn`t know that,` said Renzo. `Well,` resumed he, with a
still greater air of indifference, almost amounting to affectation, `well, I
suppose there are other places for crossing, if anybody is inclined to take a
short cut?`
`There are, certainly,` replied the landlord, fixing his eyes upon him
with a look full of malicious curiosity. This was enough to silence all the
other inquiries which our youth had ready on his lips. He drew his plate
before him, and, looking at the small measure of wine which the landlord had
set down on the table, said, `Is the wine pure?`
`As gold,` said the host; `ask all the people of the village and
neighbourhood, for they know it; and, besides, you can taste yourself.` So
saying, he turned towards his other customers.
`Plague on these landlords!` exclaimed Renzo in his heart; `the more I
know of them, the worse I find them.` However, he began to eat very heartily,
listening at the same time, without appearing to pay any attention, to see
what he could learn, to discover what was the general impression here about
the great event in which he had had no little share; and, above all, to
ascertain if, amongst these talkers, there was one honest man, of whom a poor
fellow might venture to make inquiries, without fear of getting into a scrape,
and being forced to talk about his own doings.
`But,` said one, `this time, it seems clear the Milanese wanted to bring
about a very good thing. Well; to - morrow, at latest, we shall know
something.`
`I`m sorry I didn`t go to Milan this morning,` said another.
`If you go to - morrow, I`ll go with you,` said a third; `so will I,`
said another; `and I,` said another.
`What I want to know,` resumed the first, `is, whether these Milanese
gentlemen will think of us poor people out of the city; or if they`ll only get
good laws made for themselves. Do you know how they do, eh? They are all proud
citizens, every one for himself; and we strangers mightn`t be Christians.`
`We`ve mouths, too, either to eat, or to give our own opinions,` said
another, with a voice as modest as the proposition was daring; `and when
things have gone a little further . . . `But he did not think fit to finish
the sentence.
`There`s corn hidden, not only at Milan,` another was beginning, with a
dark and designing countenance, when they heard the trampling of a horse
approaching; they ran to the door, and having discovered who it was, they all
went out to meet him. It was a Milanese merchant who generally passed the
night at this inn, in journeying two or three times a year to Bergamo on
business; and as he almost always found the same company there, they were all
his acquaintances. They now crowded around him; one took his bridle, another
his stirrup, and saluted him with, `Welcome.`
`I`m glad to see you.`
`Have you had a good journey?`
`Very good; and how are you all?`
`Pretty well, pretty well. What news from Milan?`
`Ah! you are always for news,` said the merchant, dismounting and leaving
his horse in the care of a boy. `And, besides,` continued he, entering the
door with the rest of the party, `by this time you know it, perhaps, better
than I do.`
`I assure you we know nothing,` said more than one, laying his hand on
his heart.
`Is it possible?` said the merchant. `Then you shall hear some fine . . .
or rather, some bad news. Hey, landlord, is my usual bed at liberty? Very
well; a glass of wine, and my usual meal; be quick, for I must go to bed
early, and set off to - morrow morning very early, so as to get to Bergamo by
dinner - time. And you,` continued he, sitting down at the opposite end of the
table to where Renzo was seated, silently but attentively listening, `you
don`t know about all the diabolical doings of yesterday?`
`Yes, we heard something about yesterday.`
`You see now!` rejoined the merchant; `you know the news. I thought, when
you are stationed here all day, to watch and sound everybody that comes
by . . .`
`But to-day: how have matters gone to-day?`
`Ah, to-day. Do you know nothing about to-day?`
`Nothing whatever; nobody has come by.`
`Then let me wet my lips; and afterwards I`ll tell you about everything.
You shall hear.` Having filled his glass, he took it in his right hand, and,
lifting up his mustachios with the first two fingers of his left, and then
settling his beard with the palm, he drank it off, and continued: - `There was
little wanting, my worthy friends, to make to-day as rough a day as
yesterday, or worse. I can scarcely believe it true that I am here to tell you
about it; for I had once put aside every thought of my journey, to stay and
take care of my unfortunate shop.`
`What was the matter, then?` said one of his auditors.
`What was the matter? you shall hear.` And, carving the meat that was set
before him, he began to eat, at the same time continuing his narration. The
crowd, standing at both sides of the table, listened to him with open mouths;
and Renzo, apparently giving no heed to what he said, listened, perhaps, more
eagerly than any of the others, as he slowly finished the last few mouthfuls.
`This morning, then, those rascals who made such a horrible uproar
yesterday, repaired to the appointed places of meeting (there was already an
understanding between them, and everything was arranged); they united
together, and began again the old story of going from street to street,
shouting to collect a crowd. You know it is like when one sweeps a house -
with respect be it spoken - the heap of dust increases as one goes along. When
they thought they had assembled enough people, they set off towards the house
of the superintendent of provisions; as if the treatment they gave him
yesterday was not enough, to a gentleman of his character - the villains! And
the lies they told about him! All inventions: he is a worthy, exact gentleman;
and I may say so, for I am very intimate with him, and serve him with cloth
for his servants` livery. They proceeded then towards this house; you ought to
see what a rabble, and what faces: just fancy their having passed my shop,
with faces that . . . the Jews of the Via Crucis are nothing to them. And such
things as they uttered! enough to make one stop one`s ears, if it had not been
that it might have turned to account in discovering one. They went forward
then with the kind intention of plundering the house, but . . . `Here he
raised his left hand and extended it in the air, placing the end of his thumb
on the point of his nose.
`But?` said almost all his auditors.
`But,` continued the merchant, `they found the street blockaded with
planks and carts, and behind this barricado, a good file of soldiers, with
their guns levelled, and the butt - ends resting on their shoulders. When they
saw this preparation . . . What would you have done?`
`Turned back.`
`To be sure; and so did they. But just listen if it wasn`t the devil that
inspired them. They reached the Cordusio, and there saw the bake - house which
they wanted to plunder the day before: here they were busy in distributing
bread to their customers; there were noblemen there, ay, the very flower of
the nobility, to watch that everything went on in good order; but the mob
(they had the devil within them, I tell you, and besides, there were some
whispering in their ears, and urging them on), the mob rushed in furiously;
"seize away, and I will seize too:" in the twinkling of an eye, noblemen,
bakers, customers, loaves, benches, counters, troughs, chests, bags, sieves,
bran, flour, dough, all were turned upside down.`
`And the soldiers?`
`The soldiers had the vicar`s house to defend; one cannot sing and carry
the cross at the same time. It was all done in the twinkling of an eye, I tell
you: off and away; everything that could be put to any use was carried off.
And then they proposed again the beautiful scene of yesterday - dragging the
rest to the square, and making a bonfire. They had already begun - the
villains! - to carry some things out of the house, when one greater villain
than the rest - what do you think was the proposal he made?`
`What?`
`What! to make a pile of everything in the shop, and to set fire to the
heap and the house together. No sooner said than done . . .`
`Did they set fire to it?`
`Wait. A worthy man of the neighbourhood had an inspiration from Heaven.
He ran up - stairs, sought for a crucifix, found one, and hung it in front of
one of the windows; then he took two candles which had been blessed, lit them,
and set them outside, on the window - sill, one on each side of the crucifix.
The mob looked up. It must be owned, there is still some fear of God in Milan;
everybody came to their senses. At least, I mean most of them; there were
some, certainly, devils enough to have set fire to Paradise, for the sake of
plunder; but, finding that the crowd was not of their opinion, they were
obliged to abandon their design, and keep quiet. Just fancy now who arrived -
all their Graces of the Cathedral, in procession, with the cross elevated, and
in their canonical robes; and my lord the Arch - presbyter began preaching on
one side, and my lord the Penitentiary on the other, and others again,
scattered here and there: "But, good people; what would you do? is this the
example you set your children? go home, go home; you shall have bread at a low
price; if you`ll only look you`ll see that the rate is pasted up at every
corner."`
`Was it so?`
`What? was it so? Do you think that their Graces of the Cathedral would
come, in their magnificent robes, to tell them falsehoods?`
`And what did the people do?`
`They dispersed by degrees; some ran to the corners of the streets, and
for those who could read, there was the fixed rate, sure enough. What do you
think of it? eight ounces of bread for a penny.`
`What good luck!`
`The proof of the pudding is in the eating. How much flour do you think
they have wasted yesterday and this morning? Enough to support the Duchy for
two months.`
`Then they`ve made no good laws for us in the country?`
`What has been done at Milan is entirely at the expense of the city. I
don`t know what to say to you: it must be as God wills. Fortunately, the
sedition is finished, for I haven`t told you all yet; here comes the best
part.`
`What is there besides?`
`Only, that, last evening, or this morning, I`m not sure which, many of
the leaders have been seized, and four of them, it is known, are to be hung
directly. No sooner did this get abroad, than everybody went home the shortest
way, not to run the risk of becoming number five. When I left Milan, it looked
like a convent of friars.`
`But will they really hang them?`
`Undoubtedly, and quickly, too,` replied the merchant.
`And what will the people do?` asked the same interrogator as had put the
other question.
`The people will go to see them,` said the merchant. `They had such a
desire to see a Christian hanging in the open air, that they wanted - the
vagabonds! - to despatch the superintendent of provisions in that way. By this
exchange they will have four wretches, attended with every formality,
accompanied by Capuchins, and by friars of the buona morte:^2 but they deserve
it. It is an interference of Providence, you see; and it`s a necessary thing.
They were already beginning to divert themselves by entering the shops, and
helping themselves without paying; if they`d let them go on so, after bread,
wine would have had its turn, and so on from thing to thing . . . . You may
imagine whether they would abandon so convenient a practice, of their own free
will. And I can tell you, that was no very pleasant thought for an honest man
keeping a shop.`
[Footnote 2: A denomination usually given to the monks of the order of St.
Paul, the first hermit. They are called Brothers of death, Fratres a morte, on
account of a figure of a Death`s head which they were always to have with
them, to remind them continually of their last end. This order, by its
constitutions, made in 1620, does not seem to have been established long
before Pope Paul V. Louis XIII., in 1621, permitted them to settle in France.
The order was, probably, suppressed by Pope Urban VIII. The fraternity of
death buries such dead as are abandoned by their relations, and causes masses
to be celebrated for them.`]
`Certainly not,` said one of his hearers. `Certainly not,` replied the
rest, in chorus.
`And,` continued the merchant, wiping his beard with the tablecloth, `it
had all been projected for some time: there was a league, you know.`
`A league, was there?`
`Yes, there was a league. All cabals formed by the Navarrines, by that
French cardinal there, you know, with a half - Turkish name, who every day
contrives something fresh to annoy the court of Spain. But, above all, he aims
at playing some trick in Milan; for he knows well enough - the knave - that
the strength of the king lies there.`
`Ay.`
`Shall I give you a proof of it? Those who`ve made the greatest noise
were strangers; there were faces going about which had never before been seen
in Milan. By the by, I forgot to tell you one thing which was told me for
certain. The police had caught one of these fellows in an inn . . . ` Renzo,
who had not lost a single syllable of this conversation, was taken with a cold
shudder on hearing this chord touched, and almost slipped under the table
before he thought of trying to contain himself. No one, however, perceived it;
and the speaker, without interrupting his relation for a moment, had
continued: `They don`t exactly know where he came from, who sent him, nor what
kind of man he was, but he was certainly one of the leaders. Yesterday, in the
midst of the uproar, he played the very hevil; and then, not content with
that, he must begin to harangue the people, and propose - a mere trifle! - to
murder all the nobility! The great rascal! Who would support the poor if all
the nobles were killed? The police, who had been watching him, laid hands upon
him; they found on his person a great bundle of letters, and were leading him
away to prison, but his companions, who were keeping guard round the inn, came
in great numbers, and delivered him - the villain!`
`And what became of him?`
`It isn`t known; he may be fled, or he may be concealed in Milan: they
are people who have neither house nor home, and yet find lodging and a place
of refuge everywhere; however, though the devil can and will help them, yet
they may fall into the hands of justice when they least expect it; for when
the pear is ripe it must fall. For the present, it is well known that the
letters are in possession of government, and that the whole conspiracy is
therein described; and they say that many people are implicated in it. This
much is certain, that they have turned Milan upside down, and would have done
much worse. It is said that the bakers are rogues: I know they are; but they
ought to be hung in the course of justice. They say there is corn hidden; who
doesn`t know that? But it is the business of the government to keep a good
look - out to bring it to light, and to hang the monopolists in company with
the bakers. And if government does nothing, the city ought to remonstrate; and
if they don`t listen the first time, remonstrate again; for by dint or appeals
they will get what they want; but not adopt the villainous practice of
furiously entering shops and warehouses to get booty.`
Renzo`s small meal had turned into poison. It seemed like an age before
he could get out of, and away from, the inn and the village; and a dozen
times, at least, he had said to himself: `Now I may surely go.` But the fear
of exciting suspicion, now increased beyond measure, and prevailing over every
other thought, had kept him still nailed to his seat. In this perplexity, he
thought the chatterer must at last stop talking about him, and determined in
his own mind to make his escape as soon as another subject was started.
"For this reason,` said one of the party, `knowing how these things go,
and that honest men fare but badly in such disturbances, I wouldn`t let my
curiosity conquer, and have, therefore, remained quietly at home.`
`Neither would I move, for the same reason,` said another.
`I,` added a third, `if I had happened by chance to be at Milan, I would
have left any business whatever unfinished, and have returned home as quickly
as possible. I have a wife and children; and, besides, to tell the truth, I
don`t like such stirs.`
At this moment the landlord, who had been eagerly listening with the
rest, advanced towards the other end of the table to see what the stranger was
doing. Renzo seized the opportunity, and beckoning to the host, asked for his
account, settled it without dispute, though his purse was by this time very
low; and without further delay, went directly to the door, passed the
threshold, and taking care not to turn along the same road as that by which he
had arrived, set off in the opposite direction, trusting to the guidance of
Providence.
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