Caterina

“ Caterina, mercy, Caterina; have pity upon me; mercy, mercy, mercy! I am unfortunate. I am leaving with Andrea. I am a miserable creature; you will never see me again. I suffer. I am leaving. I am dying. Have pity!”
“Lucia.”
She read it over again, re-read it, and read it for the fourth time. She sat down by the writing-table, with the letter in her hands. She was stupefied.
“The carriage is at the door,” said Giulietta. Caterina’s head moved as if in reply. Then she rose to her feet, but she felt the floor give way beneath them. “If I move I shall fall,” she thought. ”

“ At first she was glowing with her little triumph, and felt the strength of pride; but her eye would steal to the opposite side of the fireplace, where Captain Wybrow had seated himself close to Miss Assher, and was leaning with his arm over the back of the chair, in the most lover-like position. Caterina began to feel a choking sensation. She could see, almost without looking, that he was taking up her arm to examine her bracelet; their heads were bending close together, her curls touching his cheek—now he was putting his lips to her hand. Caterina felt her cheeks burn—she could sit no longer. ”

“ But at last the Admiral and the Bernardini led Caterina forth into the piazza, pale and calm—the glory of a great gladness in her eyes—the suffering which had left deep traces in her face disguised by the exaltation of the moment so that she scarcely seemed less radiant than when she had last stood there on the day of the coronation fête with her child in her arms—as any woman of the people might have done, the tender, baby-cheek pressed close to hers. ”

“ She passed one hand across her brow either to awake herself or to dispel the hallucination.
[Pg 36]
“Listen, Caterina, and try and comprehend me better than I know how to express myself. Do you give your whole attention?”
“Yes,” said the other with an effort.
“You alone know how we have loved each other here. After God, the Madonna Addolorata, and my father, I have loved you, Caterina. You have saved my life, I can never forget it. But for you, I should have gone to burn in hell, where suicides must eternally suffer. I thank you, dear heart. You believe in my gratitude?” ”

“ Then he burst out:
“Caterina, why did you behave so ridiculously? It is so unlike you to be eccentric—to make a laughing-stock of yourself?”
She kept her hands in her muff and her eyes cast down, and made no reply.
“You, a sensible little woman? Are we living in the Middle Ages? Perdio, to expose oneself to ridicule!”
Caterina turned pale and bit her lip; she would not cry, and had no voice left to answer with. Lucia leant against the door-post, listening.
“You are talking about the handkerchief, Signor Andrea?” she put in, slowly.
“Just so.... The handkerchief. A pretty conjugal amenity!” ”

“ A deep sigh escaped Lucia Altimare.
“What ails thee?” queried Caterina Spaccapietra, under her breath.
“I suffer, I suffer,” murmured the other dreamily. “This preacher saddens me. He does not understand, he does not feel, Our Lady.” And the black pupils of her eyes, set in bluish white, dilated as in a vision. Caterina did not reply. The Directress intoned the Rosary in a solemn voice, with a strong Tuscan accent. She read the Mystery alone. Then all the voices in chorus, shrill and low, accompanied her in the Gloria Patri, and in the Pater. ”

“ For so many days and years Caterina was my constant companion; I loved her as my own soul. Yet was she but a sun that dazzled my eyes so that I could not gaze upon my own soul; but a veil between me and my dead youth. The sun has sunk forever below the horizon; the veil is rent. No phantom from the other world hovers to remind me of our happiness. Those years, with all their raptures and successes, are a dull blank. It is the years of boyhood and youth which resurge in my consciousness; their tints are vivid, their tones are clear. ”

“ Do you love Caterina?”
“I love you,” he said, closing his eyes.
“Well, you are happier than I am; I love Caterina, I love Alberto; to my mind, they are adorable beings.”
“You love too many people,” he said, bitterly. He tried to take her hand, she resisted. Outside, the rain increased; the carriage rolled on noiselessly over the wet pavement of Santa Lucia.
“Mine is a large heart, Andrea.”
“You shall love me only.”
“I cannot. I love your wife and my husband, I cannot sacrifice them to you. Let us say good-bye.”
“I cannot, Lucia. I am doomed to love you, for ever. You shall be mine.” ”

“ It was evening, and the Queen had bidden him to her summer terrace over the gardens, where in the luxuriant shrubberies below them the birds were vying with each other in the loud-voiced evening orisons for which the brief flame of the Cyprian sunset was ever a signal.
"The years will make of thee a poet, my Father," Caterina said, smiling at the turn of phrase so unusual from his lips.
"It is not the years but thou, my Daughter, who hast taught me that beauty may be holy and lift the soul." ”

“ Caterina had moved through the splendid pageant of the morning as in a dream, still too much a child to comprehend the responsibilities it portended—too much in awe of the distinguished company assembled to do her honor to be conscious of any feeling but unwonted timidity. But the tottering footsteps of the old man who held her hand as he led her through the Porta della Carta into the Ducal Palace, awoke her inborn sense of pity, and it was she who upheld him with her strong, young, vital clasp, recovering her own perfect poise in the act of giving help. ”

“ When Caterina admired her, and told her that she was beautiful, and Andrea bowed ceremoniously before her, she would say with a placid smile:
“I dress for Alberto, not for myself.”
“Of course,” whispered Alberto to Caterina or Andrea, “poor Lucia sacrifices herself completely to me. She shall at least have the satisfaction of being beautiful for my sake.”
After her toilet, Lucia breakfasted and then ensconced herself in her favourite corner in Caterina’s drawing-room. She had begun a long fanciful piece of work on coarse, stout canvas, without any design. ”

“ Caterina neither asked her why nor wherefore. In Lucia’s presence she was under the spell that fantastic divagations sometimes exercise over calm reasonable beings.
“Caterina, I have begun to visit the poor in their homes. It is an interesting humanitarian occupation. It is the source of the sweetest emotion. Will you come with me?”
“I will ask Andrea.” ”

“ Words in Caterina’s mouth are only the natural vent of her quick and eager nature, when the words are spoken to the old priest. For the most part, they are forgotten as soon as uttered, both by master and servant. The lonely man cannot afford to quarrel with mere froth of words in the woman who devotes her life to his comfort. ”

“ Caterina appeared to have grown bigger, although she still retained a certain girlish delicacy and a pretty minuteness of feature. The look in her grey eyes was more decided, the contour of her cheek was firmer, the chin had assumed a more energetic character. On the low brow, the bright chestnut hair was slightly waved; its thick plaits were gathered up at the nape by a light tortoiseshell comb. She wore a short indoor dress of ivory-white cashmere—a soft thick material that clung closely to her, especially at the waist—a relic of the coquetry of her school-days. ”

“ Caterina, but sooner than you should be exposed to the wind....”
Andrea assisted her to alight; she sprang out lightly, showing a glimpse of a bronze boot. She took leave of Caterina while Alberto ensconced himself well back in the victoria.
“Signora Caterina, you must pardon the exigencies of an invalid. You must fancy yourself a garde-malade.”
She turned her sweet patient smile on him. Andrea and Lucia silently made their way to the phaeton. He helped her up, and then got up himself; then, both turning towards the carriage, waved their hands once more. Then away like the wind. ”

“ And, when the exhortations are said and the benediction has been given, Caterina is quite a married woman. The neighbours may have their fill of comment and admiration now, and the children their portion of comfits which Caterina scatters among them. Good words and bad words—ejaculations and laughter—fly to and fro, and resound under the trees of the cherry orchard, where they eat the marriage feast. Everybody is contented. Even the girls who have no husbands, and the fathers who have more mouths to feed than money withal to feed them, are glad to-day ”

“ Caterina had her look of serene repose, and Alberto continued to twirl his thumbs, like a worthy bourgeois immersed in the delightful consciousness of his own insignificance.
“There is nothing for it but to grin and bear it,” muttered Andrea.
“What are you saying?” asked Caterina, whose ear was always on the alert.
[Pg 192]
“That we shall never get our breakfast. It is nearly half-past eleven. I am fit to die of hunger.” ”

“ A black hat, with a broad velvet brim, shaded her brow and eyes.
“Shall we walk?” asked Caterina.
“We will walk; if I get tired we can call a cab.”
They walked, entering the Toledo from Montesanto. The tramontana was blowing hard, but the sun flooded the streets with light. Men, with red noses and hands in their pockets, were walking quickly. Behind their short black veils the ladies’ eyes were full of tears and their lips were chapped by the wind. Caterina drew her furs closer to her.
“Are you cold, Lucia?” ”

“ She always spent half an hour at the writing-table, with fingers that dallied over their pastime, shoulders bent in contemplation, and an imagination that sped on wings to unknown heights.
Then, after the writing-table, came a photograph in a red frame, suspended against the wall, a portrait of Caterina. [Pg 63] Underneath it hung a bénitier containing fresh flowers, which were changed every morning. Caterina contemplated her friend with kind serene eyes; the portrait had her own air of composure. ”

“ Caterina was pale and with difficulty restrained her tears; Alberto was so much moved by Lucia’s emotion, that he mumbled inaudible nothings. Andrea rambled about the house like a phantom, touching himself as if to make sure of his own existence. Lucia avoided him, and abstained from addressing him; she did but raise her tearful eyes to his. They lunched in silence; no one ate a mouthful. Afterwards Lucia drew Caterina into her room ”

“ Caterina had saved her life. And last, like a dream, the last night at school, when they had entered the chapel, had knelt down and sworn, before the Madonna, to love each other for ever, reproduced itself in her memory....
Lucia vanished, Andrea entered upon the scene. Andrea had been kind and amiable to Caterina during their courtship. At first, it had been a marriage of convenience; the young man wanted a wife, her fortune suited him, and the orphan girl had to be married. Andrea was a very good match for her; the engaged pair got on capitally together. ”

“ In the gloom, Caterina kept turning the pages of the journal, at first without reading, then glancing at a page here and there, grasping an idea, or discovering a fact amid the fantastic divagations in which its pages abounded. At certain parts she shuddered and fell back in her chair. He coughed weakly in his torpor, without unclosing his eyes. Suddenly a violent attack tore his chest, the cough began low, grew louder, died away, seemed to be over, and began again, cruelly, persistently. ”

“ To Caterina, on the verge of womanhood, it came with the force of a prophetic vision, giving her sight of the tie between a queen and her people—it was like the strong mother-love of a great woman—all-embracing; the splendor of the pageant, the personal [Pg 25] homage had no longer part in the exaltation of that great moment—it was the real beneath it all that stirred her soul. She lost herself in the emotion, seeking only for expression ”

“ Caterina rests from scolding the priest. A glamour of coming night begins to creep down from the mountains upon the valley, and, though still the river flows and still Mon Pilato stands against the twilight, our tale is told, our procession is finished. Town folk and country folk have all passed away in its wake. ”

“ Whatever of good there remained for Caterina to do in this petty domain which the munificence of the Signoria had bestowed in exchange for Cyprus, she did with a gracious and queenly hand, so that her realm was wider than her territory, for she had won the love of the people wherever she had passed, and in the years of her tried and chequered life, no evil was ever spoken of her. ”

“ He spoke so sternly, and with a face in which sorrow and anger were so plainly written that no one doubted him for a moment. "It is her husband," they whispered: "she was going to run off with the other. God pity him, when he falls into his hands, as she has done!"
Caterina did nothing to undeceive them. Obediently she ascended the steps by Theodore's side; and her astonishment at being saved by him, to escape whom she had fallen into the danger, resembled the conscious confusion of a discovered criminal. The sailor alone did not seem perfectly convinced. ”

“ The peasant woman holds the talk herself, for [187] Caterina makes no answer. She is in a bad humour. Both the women are plain and ill-favoured specimens of their class, only that Caterina is a little less unkempt and disorderly than her neighbour. Her hair is smooth though scant, and her faded print dress is neat; but Maddalena has many different patterns and patches upon her skirt—the bright yellow kerchief around her shoulders is soiled, and the fine and cunning plaits of her grey hair are not as well ordered as the women’s are wont to be on mass days. ”