Rafael Sabatini

“ Mercy! as you would hope for mercy in your need, have mercy on me now.' He looked sardonically at Ser Pantaleone, who sat his horse, benumbed in body and in brain.
'Madonna Fulvia does not flatter you, Pantaleone,' said he. 'She has little fancy for you as a bridegroom, it appears. Yet, fool, you believed her when she promised to take you to husband. You believed her! Ha! What was it Fra Serafino said of you?' He fell thoughtful. 'I remember! He found you too full in the lips to be trusted with a woman. He knows his world, Fra Serafino. A cloister is a good coign of observation. ”

“ Came Mario—a short, sturdy fellow with a face that was the colour of clay, and so ridged and pitted by smallpox that it seemed no more than a hideous mask, a grotesque simulacrum of a human countenance. He was nominally the castellan of Pievano; in effect he was many things, a factotum including in his manifold accomplishments the arts of chirurgeon, horse-leech, and barber. He was rigidly honest, faithful, self-sufficient, and ignorant.
In his wake now as acolytes came a groom, Madonna Fulvia's own woman, and Raffaele the page. ”

“ The thin lines of Macchiavelli's lips lengthened slightly in a smile, as he penetrated the reasons of the man's sudden reticence. He pressed for no further information, for indeed he needed no more than already he had received. If the duke's men under Corella had fallen upon Oliverotto da Fermo's troops, then his expectations had been realized, and Cesare Borgia, meeting treachery with treachery, had stricken down the mutinous condottieri.
A sudden surge of the crowd drove the Florentine orator and the rustic apart. A roar rose from the throat of the multitude. ”

“ Pantaleone fetched a deep sigh, and sank together like a man in the uttermost depths of dejection. 'I see you have not heard. Yet I should have thought that by now such evil news had travelled o'er the face of all Italy. Paolo was strangled yesterday at Assisi, and with him was strangled too the Duke of Gravina.'
The old man uttered a sharp cry. He half-rose from his seat, supporting himself upon trembling arms; then, bereft of strength, he sank back again. ”

“ My Lord Almerico recovered from his concern and smiled. He quoted the stoic.
'In this life, my friend, we never lose anything. Sometimes we return a thing. That is the proper view. Why, then, all this concern about a pomander, a trifle that may be replaced by a ducat.'
'Should I be so concerned if that were all?' cried Pantaleone, with a faint show of impatience at the philosophy with which Orsini bore another's loss. ”

“ A silence followed and a pause, ended at last by Cesare's short laugh.
'Body of God! Did he need bringing?'
'He did, my lord.'
The Duke's glance swept over the noble company. 'You hear,' he called to them, raising his voice. 'You perceive the lofty spirit of these Orsini. An Orsini must needs be brought to ransom his mistress and kinswoman from the fate decreed her.' He turned to the equerry. 'Fetch him hither,' he said shortly, with a wave of his fine hand.
But Mario was slow to obey. Not upon the Duke but upon Madonna were his eyes set, as if awaiting her confirmation of that command. ”

“ This was at Assisi on the very day that he ordered the strangling of Gravina and Giangiordano's bastard. On that same evening came one of his spies with information that Matteo Orsini was in hiding at Pievano, the castle of his distant kinsman Almerico—an Orsini this last, too aged and too inactive to be worthy the Duke's attention, a studious man, living almost in seclusion with his books and his daughter, untouched by ambition, asking but to be left in peace, undisturbed by all the strife and bloodshed that were afflicting Italy. ”

“ I am from Perugia,' said the condottiero.
'And is it not known in Perugia that the Lord Almerico is above all things a man of peace—of peace and books. He is more concerned with Seneca than with any tyrant in Italy.'
'With whom?' asked Pantaleone.
'With Seneca,' the boy repeated.
'Who is he?' quoth Pantaleone, staring.
'A philosopher,' said Raffaele. 'My lord loves all philosophers.'
'Then he will love me,' said Pantaleone, and drank the remainder of his broth. ”

“ Raffaele threw back his head, and considered the soldier with some scorn.
'You said well when you said that I had more wit than many a man,' he informed Pantaleone with pointed significance. 'A man, of course, would blunder here to a prompt and lewd conclusion. Bah, sir! I am a boy, not a cherub in a fresco. You have but to see Colomba—Mario's wife—to be assured of the chastity of her relations with Giuberti or with any man. You have seen Mario's lovely countenance, looking as if the devil had stamped on it with his hoofs and a red-hot horseshoe on each hoof. ”

“ He knew himself for a doomed man, one who might count himself under sentence of death, since the chances of winning alive through an attack of that pestilence were so slight as to be almost negligible. Ashen-faced he stared straight before him, what time indignation and horror found voice on every side, and continued clamant until the Duke raised an imperious hand to demand silence.
He alone remained unmoved, or at least showed no outward sign of such anger as he may have felt. ”

“ It is the test of your true adventurer in all ages and of all kinds that ducats are with him the sole standard of nobility. A man may pawn his honour, pledge his proper pride and sell his immortal soul, so that he drives a good bargain in the matter of ducats. Thus it was with Pantaleone. Unless you are yourself one of those who measure worth—your own or another's—by ducats, you will pity a little this man who set such store by profit. For the thousand ducats offered him by the Duke he had consented to act the part of a Judas and a traitor. ”

“ And then Corella clanked in, booted, bearded, stalwart and stiff, the very type of the condottiero.
The Duke turned, and considered him in silence at long length. In the end he shook his head.
'No,' he said, 'you are not the man. You are too much the soldier, too little the courtier, too much the swordsman, too little the lute-player, and I think that you are almost ugly. If you were a woman, Fra Serafino, should you not consider him an ugly fellow?'
'I am not a woman, Magnificent ...'
'That is all too evident,' the Duke deplored. ”

“ The interview was short. 'From information that I have received,' said Cesare, 'I will wager a thousand ducats to a horseshoe that Matteo Orsini is with his uncle at Pievano. I offer that thousand ducats for his head. Go and earn it.'
Pantaleone was taken aback. He blinked his bold black eyes. 'What men shall I take?' he stammered.
'What men you please. But understand the thing is not to be done by force. At the first show of it, Matteo, if he is there, will go to earth like a mole, and not all your questing shall discover him. This is an affair for wits, not lances. ”

“ Madonna Fulvia shot a fearful glance at Valentinois. She saw here the miscarriage of her crafty plan, through the one factor which she had left out of consideration—the circumstance that Cesare Borgia living and moving in an environment of treachery, amid foes both secret and avowed, took no chances of falling a victim either to their force or their guile. She had not reckoned that he would appoint Pantaleone in this matter to an office akin to that filled at his table by the venom-taster. ”

“ I wonder do you know anything of women?'
'God forbid!' ejaculated the monk, utterly scandalized.
'Then are you worthless as a counsellor in this,' was the Duke's conclusion. 'I had hoped you could have imagined yourself a woman for a moment.'
'Imagine myself a woman?' quoth Fra Serafino, his deep-set eyes staring.
'That you might tell me what manner of man would be likeliest to delude you. You see, Pievano is a rabbit warren. You might conceal an army there, how much more easily a single man. ”

“ For you will understand that engaged as he was he had every reason to avoid the Duke as he would avoid the devil.
He reined in sharply, and his eyes glared mistrustfully at Madonna, instinctively feeling that here was some trap into which like a fool he had been lured by this white-faced girl. It flashed across his mind that it had been his lifelong practice to mistrust lean women. Their very leanness was in his eyes an outward sign of their lack of femininity, and a woman that lacks femininity—as all the world knows—is as often as not a very devil. ”

“ She set her hands upon his shoulders, and looked steadily into his lovely face.
'Will you do a man's work for me, Raffaele? I have need of a man, and there is none here whom I can spare. Will you ride to-night to Cesare Borgia's camp at Castel della Pieve with this letter?'
'If that be all that is needed to prove myself a man, account it proven,' said he.
'Good lad! Dear lad! Now listen. There may be spies about the gate, and so it were best you went forth on foot from here. If you can slip out unseen it will be better still. Then go down into the borgo to the house of Villanelli. ”

“ If it were mine to choose my estate in life, I would be lord of some such lordship as this of Pievano.'
'The ambition is a modest one,' said she.
'To have more is to have the power to work mischief, and who works mischief raises up enemies, and who raises up enemies goes in anxiety and may not know the pure joys of a contented life.'
'My father would agree with you. Such is his own philosophy. That is why he has lived ever here, nor ever troubled himself to strive for more.'
'He chose the better part, indeed,' Ser Pantaleone agreed. ”

“ There was the plague in Florence, and it was carried thither to the borgo. Men were dying like flies at close of autumn. To succour them my grandfather ordered that pavilion to be built with others that have since been demolished, and he had the place enclosed by walls. There was a saintly minorite, one Fra Cristofero, who came to tend the plague-ridden, and who himself was miraculously preserved from the contagion.'
Ser Pantaleone twisted his features in a grimace of disgust. ”

“ They set out soon after, and took the road by the marsh towards Castel della Pieve. With them went Pantaleone's ten knaves, and Mario as Madonna's equerry by her insistence. Pantaleone disliked and mistrusted the silent clay-faced servant and would gladly have been rid of his presence. Yet he deemed it wise to humour her at least until a priest should have given her fully into his possession.
As they cantered briskly forward in the bright sunshine of that January morning, and the miles were flung behind them, Pantaleone's spirits rose, and conquered his last misgiving. ”

“ He knew that the Duke had been prepared for treachery that he had done no more than pretend to walk into a trap, having taken care first to make himself master of its springs. That in spite of this those springs should have snapped upon him, the secretary could not believe. And yet undoubtedly pillage was toward, and pillage was forbidden by the Duke.
Marvelling, then, Messer Macchiavelli rode on up the steep street towards the palace. Soon his progress was arrested. The narrow way was thronged and solid with humanity; a great mob surged before the palace. ”

“ But we are honourable folk, and if I swear to you that Matteo Orsini shall not stir him hence until this matter is done beyond recalling, so shall it be. Yet take your measures. You have the men and the power. Let them remain at their post surrounding that garden. Do that to-night, and to-morrow I will ride with you to Castel della Pieve to become your wife.'
Slowly he licked his lips, and his bold eyes narrowed as they surveyed her greedily. ”

“ The lazar-house was in flames when I left Pievano, so that all source of infection may be destroyed, and Colomba herself will set up a tent in the enclosure and abide there until all danger of her carrying the scourge is overpast.'
'The good Colomba shall be rewarded, Mario. We are profoundly in her debt.'
'A faithful soul,' Mario admitted. 'But there was no risk to her, since like myself, she too has paid the price of immunity.'
'That cannot lessen our gratitude,' she said. And then she sighed. 'Poor Giuberti! God rest his loyal soul! A faithful servant ever, he has served us even in death. ”

“ The lord of Pievano kept his chamber. Not all his stoicism was equal to the ordeal of sitting down to meat again with such a thing as Pantaleone, or witnessing the humiliation to which his daughter was to subject herself. However much he might esteem the end in view—since he was an Orsini before being a philosopher—he abhorred the means, and took the course of refusing them his countenance, and remaining passive. ”

“ A man with his full lips, and all the qualities those full lips implied, could find scant sense in the austere philosophy of the stoic, though he was faintly interested to observe the hold which that teaching had gained upon his host, and how his host appeared to have modelled the conduct of his life upon it, purchasing tranquillity as the stoic teaches. Although it was not thus that Pantaleone understood existence, yet he forbore argument and feigned agreement, knowing in his crafty way that agreement with a man is the short road to his esteem and confidence. ”

“ But sleep brought sounder counsels, and when the morrow came he held his peace. He walked as usual with Madonna in the garden, though never now on the upper terraces whence a view was obtained of the enclosure about the lazar-house. She had refused to repeat that visit of theirs to the garden's heights, ever pleading that she found the ascent excessively fatiguing.
Pantaleone habitually wore a tiny gold pomander ball, no larger than a cherry, suspended from his neck by a slender chain of gold. ”

“ And whilst her father went down on his old joints to lend immediate aid, Madonna Fulvia issued orders briskly to the gaping lackey.
'Fetch Mario, quickly,' she commanded. 'Bid them bring wine and vinegar and napkins. Run!'
Pantaleone raised his lolling head and supported it against Almerico's knee. He opened dull eyes, and babbled incoherent excuses for thus discomposing them. This manifestation of concern for them at such a moment touched them profoundly when coupled with his condition: it melted the old Orsini's lingering mistrust as snow upon the hills is melted by the April suns. ”