Visconti

“ And he handed the parchment back, dismissing Giannotto with the gesture.
[Pg 110]
Clearly Visconti was in a mood that held neither comment nor reward, but one the secretary was glad to escape from so easily. With a deep obeisance he departed.
"Who bribes the woman to comfort Isotta d'Este? The soldiers are to be trusted," mused Visconti. "Once I know I will remember it."
He drew from his doublet the velvet gloves of turquoise hue and laid them on the table.
They were beautiful in their perfect workmanship, huge gauntlets fringed with pearl and gold, and tasseled at the points with rubies. ”

“ And the Visconti banner floated out dreamily upon the light spring breeze, and the rider rode at ease and read from the parchment with a smiling face.
Suddenly the old man rose, and threw out his hands with a wild gesture toward the crouching peasants. His frantic cry was stifled on his lips, and a cut from the whip sent him back to his seat with a snarl of impotent fury. The woman sobbed aloud, but sat still, for the tease of the whip followed their slightest movements, though the horseman seemed to heed nothing but the parchment from which he read. ”

“ Della Scala, Duke of Verona, had owned fair lands and wide, Verona, Brescia, all now in Visconti's hands. The secretary wondered, as he thought, how long it would be before the triumphant Gian threw away the mere rag of respect, the mere mockery of a title which bound him to the Empire, and became King of Lombardy in name as well as power.
"And thou thyself, my lord," he said. "Thou wilt marry a Valois to thy sister! Who will be thy bride?"
Visconti smiled. "These marriages are for ambition. Dost thou think I shall marry for ambition? No, Giannotto, I have placed myself above need of that. ”

“ He paused outside Visconti's door, and the secretary smoothed a smile from his face, and, tapping slightly, entered with a silent, cringing movement.
The chamber was dark, although it was full noonday. Visconti had no love for the sunlight, and even the narrow windows were obscured and shrouded in dark purple. ”

“ And with the end of his dagger he drove the paper into the crevice of the stone. "I never loved Verona," he added, with an evil smile.
But Visconti had not heard, nor was he heeding him; his eyes were riveted upon the door.
Again Padua raised the lantern above his head.
The glimmering light fell faintly on a dark chamber, and dimly lit a large black couch from which the tapestry coverlet was half dragged off. Visconti peered an instant over his rescuer's shoulder eagerly, then fell back.
"I cannot," he said sullenly. "I will stay and face Della Scala—I cannot pass that way." ”

“ Visconti remembered. Two years ago, when he had been by half not so great as he stood now, he had refused them in scorn—they meant half his dominions—they would place Carrara on a level with himself.
"Well?" he said, "and if I refuse?"
"A prisoner does not refuse—his liberty," smiled Giacomo. He could afford to smile.
Visconti controlled himself.
"And if I accept—you take my word, all I have to give—a prisoner's word?"
"A Visconti's word," corrected Carrara. "Nay, lord, I think I shall need more than that."
"What more can I give?" he asked. "You waste the time, Carrara." ”

“ The secretary, looking at his brooding face, shuddered a little at what his master's thoughts might be. He wondered also as to that green bracelet that Visconti had concealed.
The silence grew oppressive, and Giannotto moved uneasily. He loved not to sit alone with Visconti when he fell into these musings.
The Duke roused himself.
"Ah," he said, breaking suddenly into a passion of declaim. "A God can do no more than say, 'I have succeeded—in all I have undertaken, I have succeeded!' And I can say as much. I have succeeded. ”

“ A couple of her women moved forward from the shadows, and whispered to the Duke they could do nothing with her. He motioned to them to withdraw.
"Valentine, come! Think of the splendid life that opens before thee from to-day." Visconti's tone had the gentleness of one who has gained his point. "Thou may'st be Queen of France." But Valentine Visconti had too much of her brother's spirit, too much of the ungovernable pride of will, not to hate this yielding to the force of power. She hated her brother's tyranny. She hated this marriage. ”

“ But perchance it would not be given thee to take revenge—perchance thou wouldst fall lower and lower, and be crushed after all and have gained nothing! Ah, Ligozzi, is this the beginning? Have I not pitted courage and high purpose, and honorable dealing and a righteous cause, against craft and cruelty and force? And to what end? Visconti triumphs. Always Visconti! What availed honor and faith when Visconti's cunning and Count Conrad's folly made the plans of weeks naught! ”

“ He looked curiously at Carrara, who suddenly sat upright; the cold light fell on his face, his starting eyes looking straight into Visconti's.
"Thou art not human, Visconti," he whispered. "Yet, remember, even devils meet their punishment, and there will be the bitterest of all for such as thou art—failure—" And he fell back again among the flowers, where he lay, white and still.
Visconti looked back at the advancing rearguard, waved to it, pointing downward, and then before him to Milan, brilliant in the sunrise.
From its turrets still floated the banner of the Viper. ”

“ The shade of Visconti's face deepened as he looked at her: compared to his sister, Graziosa was a candle beside the sun; the contrast did not please Gian.
D'Orleans rose and bowed low to the lady, yet in a way that was not respectful.
"So there has been a challenge from the enemy," he lisped. "Now I shall love to see a single meeting of brave swords again."
"Who said so?" asked Visconti. He came slowly down the steps; his manner had quite changed, and his eyes were on his sister.
"The Lady Valentine," said the Frenchman. ”

“ He is a fool, Giannotto, who thinks that because a woman is a prisoner she is powerless—let him remember her tongue."
"My lord, she may have thought the lady knew," faltered Giannotto.
"Silence!" cried Visconti. "She may have thought I wanted to give Isotta d'Este her liberty! Ah, let her beware! Graziosa, too; why did she not tell her that she lied? Had I not said he lived? Has she no spirit—no dignity—to shame me by her silence and her moans!" ”

“ The white agonized face of Isotta rose before him, the fierce rebellious hate that marred Valentine Visconti's beauty, and Visconti's own expression as he stooped to mock a woman in his power; the gallant heart of the little painter throbbed with wrath and honest fury against the tyrant who played with hearts, who thought the offer of a crown he had usurped atoned for crimes as black as hell. ”

“ By now Vittore felt and showed respect.
"Then we will not enter Milan either," said the stranger, "since Visconti has not."
The boy gazed on him, struck by his tone, and Tomaso's eyes, half-closing, reopened and fixed themselves upon the stranger's face.
"Messer, you hate Visconti?" whispered Vittore.
The man laughed shortly. "There are many in Lombardy who hate Visconti," he said. "Perhaps I not less than others. Boy," he added, with sudden intensity, "I have only two things to live for: one is to tell Visconti to his face what one man's hatred is." ”

“ Then, listening, he heard from within the palace a laugh and a voice—Visconti's. Della Scala looked round. How was he to get to him? He must feel Visconti's blood run warm over his hands, and quickly.
"How it blazes! The soldiers will have poor spoil," said Visconti. "But we will build another town, de Lana: we are rich enough."
"Outside the walls just now we found a ghastly thing," said a second voice: "a human hand grasping tight a knot of scarlet ribbons—just the hand, a beautiful hand." ”

“ She stood silent in the glory of the sunshine and held out her hands, and he kissed them, and looked at her and laughed pleasantly.
[Pg 246]
"Now art thou happy, donna mia?" he said. "Hast thou all that thou couldst wish?"
"More than I ever dreamed of, my lord," she answered softly. "I did not know the world could be so beautiful—or so happy."
"'Tis but a small return, Graziosa, my beloved, for what thou hast done for me," returned Visconti. "And I will make it more—this is but an earnest of the future. Visconti's wife shall live in such splendor that men shall not see her for its dazzle." ”

“ Visconti smiled.
"My sister, thou art much too precious; I shall not let thee go. Thou art worth a great deal to me. Through thee our family will be united to the Royal House of France. My sister, thy husband will be the Duke of Orleans, and not a German fool."
But Valentine was also a Visconti: she advanced with blazing eyes.
"I will not marry to serve thy ambitions; I will not help to steady thee upon the throne. Mark me, Gian, sooner than wed a Prince whom thou hast chosen, I will drag thy name into the mire, and sit in rags at thy palace gates." ”

“ Visconti stepped close and looked down into his enemy's uncovered face.
"He was not beautiful, this Della Scala," he said.
Then he glanced up and round with a wordless, an unutterable exultation. All he had asked had been given him and more! He, Visconti, Duke of Milan, could ask for nothing more than this moment gave him—a perfect triumph.
Da Ribera peered forward curiously. "He is torn to rags," he said. "He must have fought like a madman——"
"He was mad," said Visconti.
"And the lady?" said de Lana, suddenly, to Visconti. "Where is she, my lord?" ”

“ Could Gian Visconti have seen his victim now, even he might have started, for it is hard to imagine what men who die of hunger look like.
The trees, softly moving, made pleasant light and shade; the myrtle blossoms blew and sailed in little clouds of mauve, while the sweet-smelling leaves of the citron hung their rich clusters over opening lilies. Conrad, dragging himself across the grass, with straining eyes and parted lips, thought only of the water in the fountain, and saw only those two dead birds. Poisoned! Visconti had forestalled all chances. ”

“ Visconti turned again.
"A crushed foe is scarcely to be feared! Have I not set my standard in the market-place of Verona? Have I not dragged a hostage from Della Scala's palace? Lords of Milan, am I not Visconti?" ”

“ Visconti laughed wildly. "Do I not say so? Give me the lantern!" and he held out his finger, on which there blazed a splendid ring. "Would any ordinary prisoner wear a ring like this? I tell thee it is a coal from hell, and I will give it thee—for thy lantern. See, how it shines; try if it will burn thee to the bone," and he stripped it from his finger, dropping it on the pavement at the soldier's feet.
"Truly," gasped the soldier, looking at him, "thou art no ordinary man, and as for thy gems—whether they be coals or no, thou shalt have the lantern." ”

“ Escape is impossible."
"By so much the more that thy head will answer for it."
As he spoke, Visconti flung wide one of a ring of doors opening from the chamber, and stepped into a posse of soldiers. No one spoke. Glancing keenly to the right and left, Visconti passed through their ranks into the room beyond,—a small apartment, dim lit and hung with arras. An old woman sat at a tapestry frame with her back to the door, but at Visconti's entrance she rose, as at something expected, and sank in a deep obeisance. ”

“ But Visconti's sister took no heed; she gathered up her reins and signed to her escort to move on.
"Of course," she said, "why should it interest thee?—there is nothing there—it is only a small, mean church, where a poor, obscure traitor lies on his bier." She looked around the startled faces with a bitter scorn on her own. "Who has heard of him?—one Agnolo Vistarnini—killed by the Duke's orders, killed by thy lover's orders, in the very hour that ye betrayed him to him, Graziosa Vistarnini!" ”

“ He dropped to one knee and laid them at Visconti's feet, both bloodstained, torn to rags, the bearings beaten from their surface; still, the [Pg 352] flags that had floated from Modena and Mantua. The company burst into wild shouts, mad with the intoxication of success, and Visconti raised Arezzo and placed him beside him at the table, the banners at his feet.
"Thou hast done splendidly," he cried. "On our side too there is fortune—Mastino della Scala will trouble us no more!"
"Dead!" cried the general. "Dead!"
"He lies yonder in the garden." ”

“ He threw himself on the chair again and hid his face. "She loves me," he said brokenly. "It seems strange, Ligozzi—that she should—care—for me. God knows, I have no charm such as Visconti has. I cannot please, I am clumsy and uncouth compared to those she had around her—and yet she chose me. 'While thou art alive I fear nothing,' were the last words I heard her say, and I shall leave her to curse the day she met and trusted me to save her from a villain. What commonest foot soldier I have would leave the woman that he loves to die Visconti's way? ”

“ But Visconti curbed himself. To have the mastery of others he must keep the mastery of himself.
"Giannotto," he said, and the secretary started as if a whip had touched him, "thou wilt see to it that Da Salluzzo searches Milan and all Lombardy—that he spares neither treasure nor blood—and that he brings to me dead, or living, Count Conrad von Schulembourg, and the writer of these parchments."
With an obeisance Giannotto went, in silence, and Visconti slowly broke the seal of the packet. Then he turned to Valentine. ”

“ But she is a prisoner of war, and must take her chances like another. Were it the Visconti's wife in such a case—she would not be a prisoner long! Let Mastino della Scala tear her from his foe himself—let him do as Visconti did when the Lady Graziosa was in danger."
"Hold thy tongue," returned Valentine angrily. "You talk as a child—you know not what you say." ”