Bernardo

“ To dare by instinct—how splendid! No doubt there is that fox of self-conscious pusillanimity gnawing at the ribs of many a seeming-brazen upstart. He twined and untwined his fingers, and shook his head, and sobbed out a sigh, with craft and hatred at his heart. Bernardo looked grave. ”

“ Through the chiming stars, the romp of wind in woods, the gush of spring freshets, the cheery drone of bees; through all happy gales—of innocent frolic, of children's laughter, of sighing, unharmful passion, of joy and gaiety ungrudging; through the associations of his gentle spirit with these, the things it had loved, whereby, by those who had listened and could not altogether forget, came gradually to be vindicated the truth of his kind religion, Bernardo's voice, though grown a phantom voice, spoke on and echoed down the ages. ”

“ When Bernardo beholds this superbly armed cavalier slowly passing the bridge, the linked bridle of his war horse held by two pages, and an esquire behind carrying his lance and shield, “O God!” is all he can say; “it is the Count of Saldaña. He is coming at last—my father,” and he spurs his horse into a wild gallop.
Already he has dismounted to kiss his father’s hand, already he clasps his mailed gauntlet and looks into his face. Great God! It is the livid countenance of a corpse! The dead weight of Bernardo’s hand causes the body to swerve and fall forward upon the saddle-bow. ”

“ But love scorns all such distinctions: humble thoughts of herself, and proud thoughts of her Bernardo, filled the heart of Inez, and as she plighted her troth to him, she vowed she would wed none but him, and would patiently wait until the time should come when her betrothed could claim her as his own. Bernardo went to the wars, and greatly distinguished himself against the Moors: Ferdinand conferred upon him various marks of favor, and the noble and lovely Queen Isabel girded on the sword presented by the king with her own jewelled fingers. ”

“ Bernardo!” rend the air; the brazen trumpets sound, the shrill clarion calls to arms—and as he hears the warlike sound, the peasant quits his team to grasp a spear, the shepherd watching his flock by running streams flings down his crook and rushes forward, the youth whose limbs have never felt the weight of armour, the old men who sit at home at ease—all swell the crowd, as mountain torrents receive neighbouring rills.
“We are born free,” they say, “and free we will remain. No Frankish king shall rule over Leon. ”

“ I will die first.'
'Bernardo!'
'Thou to talk of natural love! False to it; false to thy lord; false even to thy stained bed! Unhand me! Why, I loathe thee.'
'Not yet.'
Her eyes were hot waters, all misted over with passion. 'Thou canst not indeed, so pitiful to the worst. I cry to thee in my need. I knew thee first. Bernardo! ”

“ Do we so treat what we love? I am not guilty of Bernardo's death, if that is what you mean.'
He let her go, and retreated a step, glaring at her. Her blood ebbed and flowed as tranquilly as her low voice had stabbed.
'This—to my face!' he gasped. Then he broke into furious laughter. 'Art well requited, if it is the truth. Love him! But, dead or alive, he will not love thee—that saint—a wife dishonoured.'
'O noble bull—thou king of beasts!' she murmured.
'Why should I be generous?' he snarled. 'Have I reason to spare thee? Yet I will be generous, an thou art guiltless of this, Beatrice. ”

“ He laughed, half insolent, half nervous, as Bernardo regarded him in silence with earnest eyes.
'Supposing,' said he, 'you were to represent, of your holy innocence and credulity, a little more and a little sweeter than the truth? Think'st thou I should have dared reissue from my hiding, were Galeazzo still here to represent his own? If I had ever thought to, there was that buried a week ago in the walls yonder would have stopped me effectively.'
'Buried—in the walls! What?'
'Dost not know? Then 'tis patent he is not all-confiding in his conscience. And yet thou shouldst know. ”

“ O, believe little Bernardo that his was the true insight, the true wisdom! There is no Future, nor ever will be. The past but prolongs itself to the present; and all enterprise, all yearning, are but to recover the ground we have lost. That truth once recognised, the horror of Futurity shall close its gates; its timeless wastes shall be no more to us; and we—we shall be wandering back, by æons of pathetic memories, to trace to its source the love that gushed in Paradise.
Three days later the boy—the Duke being gone—was strolling, again with Cicada his shadow, on the ramparts. ”

“ Thou art the only gentleman! I crave thy forgiveness, O, I crave thy forgiveness for that slander! A rat! I'll love them always—a better gentleman, a better friend, bringing us together!'
With the thought, he flung himself down on the floor, and put his ear to the hole. Still, very faint and remote, the music came leaking by it—a voice; the throb of a lute.
He changed his ear for his lips:—
'Bernardo!' he screamed; 'Bernardo! Bernardo!' and listened anew.
The music had ceased—that was certain. It was succeeded by a confused, indistinguishable murmur, which in its turn died away. ”

“ The strength of a man who is sure of his call and its divinity is as the strength of ten.
It was Bernardo whom Francis deputed in the early days of the work to go to Bologna, and labor there. Bologna was the centre of the universe, as far as learning and culture went, to the Italians of that day. As soon as Bernardo and his followers showed themselves in the town, the children, seeing them dressed so plainly and poorly, laughed and scoffed, and threw dirt and stones at them. They accepted these trials manfully, and made their way to the market-place. ”

“ He will often think of us, and wonder where we are, and frown and gnaw his lip. If I could but hear him speak once more—cry "Bernardo!" in that voice that made one's eyeballs crack like glass, and tickle in their veins. ”

“ The three began by raising with their own hands a little chapel to St Scholastica. Giovanni now dressed in the roughest hermit attire, and took the name of Bernardo. Men began to flock to him, and certain Guelfs, suspecting a Ghibelline plot, are said to have attempted to take his life by poison. Praying at the spot where now is the great portal of the church, Bernardo beheld a silver ladder stretching up to Paradise, with Angels leading white-robed men upwards to Christ and the Madonna. ”

“ Bernardo, who was born in 1493, being left an orphan in early youth, with two dependent sisters to provide for out of a very slender {Pg 98} patrimony, was compelled to quarter himself on the patronage of sundry princes and prelates, who, according to the fashion of the times—some from parade, and others from attachment to the noble arts,—loved to have men of genius and letters in their train. ”

“ Take a chair, Bernardo. You are about to hear some strange adventures. Do you know the ruffian Bufferio? He is a jolly fellow, who cares as little for the life of a man as for that of a fly. There is not a man in the parish of Saint Andrew who does not tremble at the sight of him. In a by-street there is a tavern in a large cellar, where one can hear the rattling of dice all night long, and they play for piles of gold—where it comes from, the devil only knows. ”

“ Bernardo listened in wonder.
'This ring!' he whispered at the end. 'Right judgment on me for my wicked negligence. Why, I deserve to die. Yet—' he clung a little closer—'Cicca,' he thrilled, 'it is the Duke, then, hath committed us to this?'
Cicada moaned, beating his forehead:—
'Ay, ay! it is the Duke. So I kill thy last hope!'
'Nay, thou reviv'st it.'
'How?' He stared, holding his breath.
'O, my dear!' murmured the boy rapturously; 'since thou acquittest her of this unkindness.'
'Her? Whom? Unkindness!' cried the Fool. ”

“ She turned away stately and resumed her needle as Bernardo, with a cry of thanks, ran from the room. A minute or two later he appeared before the sentry on the ramparts and flourished his token. To his surprise the man hardly glanced at it as he stepped aside to let him pass. He thought on this with some shapeless foreboding, as he leapt like a chamois down the steeps of the tower, the food, which he had snatched up, in his hands. God pity him and his awakening! There are emotions too sacred for minuting. Let it suffice that Jacopo had proved too faithful a prophylactic to superstition. ”

“ The Fool sighed.
'By thy showing, He lingers behind in the wood.'
'Tell Him I have gone on to my father.'
'Thou wilt?'
Bernardo sat up, a towzled angel. In the interval the tears had come fast, and his face was wet.
'God help you all!' he sobbed. 'You, even you, prevaricated to me. Whither shall I turn? I see everywhere a death-dealing wilderness, lies and lust and inhumanity.'
'I prevaricated,' said Cicada mournfully. 'I admit it. You once claimed my wit and experience to your tutoring. Well, do I not know the tyrant—the persistent devil in him? He had his teeth in that monk. ”

“ Open the door, Julio, and let me go, I beg you."
The other took his hand, and dragging him by force into the house, said: "I am here alone all day, with no one to whom I can speak one word; it is enough to paralyze my tongue. You shall listen to my adventures whether you wish it or not. Judge, Bernardo, by the recital of my great deeds what an honor it is to you to be the comrade of so intrepid a man. Be not ill-humored; you know it is useless to resist me. ”

“ Now grown up and a doughty warrior who has triumphed over the king’s French enemies, Bernardo demands the release of his father, imprisoned all these years by the king. The king requires certain concessions of Bernardo, and then orders the release of the count. The latter has died in the meantime, and Alfonso delivers over only the dead body. Cf. Milá y Fontanals, De la poesía heroico-popular, pp. 130 ff.
Page 115.—l. 25. Note the change from asonantes to rhymed octaves, indicating a certainly late origin for this part of the ballad. ”

“ Carlo, watching and listening, knitted his brow in a sudden frown, and his hand stole down to his belt.
'Give me thy dish,' said Beatrice, almost with entreaty.
Bernardo laughed. With the finish of his madrigal he had pushed his lute, in a hurry of pink shame, to his shoulder.
'Nay, Madonna,' he protested. 'Like the simplest doctor, I but spoke my qualifications. Feeling is half-way to curing, and the best recommended physician is he who hath practised on himself. ”

“ I know not of what race I am,” with a short laugh, “nor do I care while the king continues his favour to me, but I am a Spaniard; I will sell my living to no man.”
“The king has no heir,” observes Favila, in a dry tone, raising curious eyes on Bernardo. “He says he desires to settle the succession before his death.”
“True,” answers Ricardo, “no legal heir,” and he, in his turn, shot a significant glance at Bernardo, who does not in the least observe it. “He may fear that some one of his blood might take his place that he would not approve.” ”

“ For all answer, Carlo dropped and rolled on the ground, bellowing curses and defiance. It was childish; but then, what was the great creature but a child? Despair divorced from reason finds its last resource in kicking; and strength of body was always this poor fellow's convincing argument. The presumption that, by his own impulsive retort on Bernardo's assailant, he had brought this cowardly retaliation on himself, made not the least of his anguish. Why could his thick head never learn the craftier ways of diplomacy? ”

“ Such shamelessness is the final condition of autocracy. He had slept well, untormented of his vision. As is the case with neurotics, a confident diagnosis of his disease had proved the shortest means to its cure. Clever the doctor, too, who could make such a patient's treatment jump with his caprices; and with an inspired intuition Bernardo had so manœuvred to reconcile the two. A whim much indulged may become a habit, and he was determined to encourage to the top of its bent this whim of reformation in the Duke. ”

“ For some unexplainable reason the Indians call him King Bernardo, perhaps by confusing him with Bernardo del Carpio. [1]
"When he gets his right foot loose," muttered the cochero, stifling another sigh, "I'll give him my horses, and offer him my services even to death, for he'll free us from the Civil Guard." ”

“ The onslaught is so furious that blood flows{224} in the first encounter; the horses are disabled by the shock. To extricate themselves is the work of a moment, and on their feet they fight.
Then Bernardo, round whose head the good sword Durindana flashes dangerously near, seizes a battle-axe from the hands of a warrior lying lifeless at his feet, and gathering all his strength, deals such a blow on Sir Roland that the steel pierces down upon his neck, and stretches him, mortally wounded, on the ground.
Smitten to death, like a pious Christian he prepares to yield up his soul to God. ”

“ But here a gleam of sunshine broke upon Bernardo, amidst the darkness of his flight from Rome. The duke of Urbino invited him to Pesaro, and afforded him a welcome but temporary asylum there from the persecution of his enemies, and the pressure of indigence—a retreat, indeed, which he himself acknowledged was such as might give inspiration to any poet, and where {Pg 111} lie, himself, in quiet and amidst that comfort to which he had lately been a stranger, might complete his long poem. ”

“ Bernardo who can hear but cannot speak—
"Oppression will grow less, Bernardo. Could I but enlist the caballeros in this cause, perchance 'twould end—"
"My father here—at this time of night! There's some ill brewing. Detain him."
"You've been back from Spain three months—shut up here in your house——idle—bloodless——without ambition—"
"The family name must be perpetuated. At least you are rich enough to win you a wife."
"No girl will ever marry me—"
"—for my money." ”