The golden light of eventide lay on the terraced palace gardens, on the white temple mirrored in the placid lake, on granite balustrades where roses trailed, on tall, trim boxwood hedges that were centuries old, and on smooth emerald lawns where peacocks sauntered.
Thither the Princess Valeria, trimly sheathed in russet, and her ladies Isotta and Dionara, in formally stiff brocades, had come to take the air, and thither came sauntering also the Knight Bellarion and the pedant Corsario.
The knight was discoursing Lucretius to the pedant, and the pedant did not trouble to conceal his boredom. He had no great love of letters, but displayed a considerable knowledge of Apuleius and Petronius, and smirkingly quoted lewdnesses now from the 'Golden Ass,' now from 'Trimalchio's Supper.'
Bellarion forsook Lucretius and became a sympathetic listener, displaying a flattering wonder at Messer Corsario's learning. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the upper terrace where the Princess lingered.
Presently he ventured a contradiction. Messer Corsario was at fault, he swore. The line he quoted was not from Petronius, but from Horace. Corsario insisted, the dispute grew heated.
'But the lines are verses,' said Bellarion, 'and "Trimalchio's Supper" is in prose.'
'True. But verses occur in it.' Corsario kept his patience with difficulty in the face of such irritating mistaken assurance.
When Bellarion laughed his assertion to scorn, he went off in a pet to fetch the book, so that he might finally silence and shame this ignorant disputant. Bellarion took his way to the terrace above, where the Princess Valeria sauntered.
She observed his approach with stern eyes; and when he bowed before her she addressed him in terms that made of the difference in their ranks a gulf between them.
'I do not think, sir, that I sent for you.'
He preserved an unruffled calm, but his answering assertion sounded foolish in his own ears.
'Madonna, I would give much to persuade you that I am your servant.'
'Your methods do not change, sir. But why should they? Are they not the methods that have brought you fame?'
'Will you give your ladies leave a moment, while I speak two words with you. Messer Corsario will not be absent long. I have sent him off on a fool's errand, and it may be difficult to make another opportunity.'
For a long moment she hesitated. Then, swayed, perhaps, by her very mistrust of him, she waved her ladies back with her fan.
'Not in that direction, highness,' he said quickly, 'but in that. So they will be in line with us, and any one looking from the Palace will not perceive the distance separating us, but imagine us together.'
She smiled a little in disdainful amusement. But she gave the order.
'How well equipped you are!' she said.
'I came into the world, madonna, with nothing but my wits. I must do what I can with them.' Abruptly, for there was no time to lose, he plunged into the business. 'I desire to give you a word of warning in season, lest, with your great talent for misunderstanding, you should be made uneasy by what I hope to do. If I succeed in that which brings me, your brother will be sent hence to-morrow, or the next day, to my Lord Facino's care at Alessandria.'
That turned her white. 'O God! What now? What villainy is meant?'
'To remove him from the Regent's reach, to place him somewhere where he will be safe until the time comes for his own succession. To this end am I labouring.'
'You are labouring? You! It is a trap! A trap to ... to ...' She was starkly terrified.
'If it were that, why should I tell you? Your foreknowledge will no more assist than it can hinder. I do this in your service. I am here to propose an alliance between my Lord Facino and Montferrat. This alliance was suggested by me for two purposes: to serve Facino's immediate needs, and to ensure the Regent's ultimate ruin. It may be delayed; but it will come, just as surely as death comes to each of us. To make your brother safe while we wait, I shall impose it as a condition of the alliance that the Marquis Gian Giacomo goes to Facino as a hostage.'
'Ah! Now I begin to understand.'
'By which you mean that you begin to misunderstand. I have persuaded Facino that the Marquis will serve as a hostage for the Regent's good behaviour, and the Regent shall be made to believe that this is our sole purpose. But the real aim is as I have told you: to make your brother safe. By Facino he will be trained in all those things which it imports that a prince should learn; he will be made to forsake the habits and pursuits by which he is now being disgraced and ruined. Lady, for your peace of mind believe me!' He was emphatic, earnest, solemn.
'Believe you?' she cried out in mental torture. 'I have cause to do that, have I not? My past dealings with you—indeed, all that is known of you, bear witness to your truth and candour. By falsehood, trickery, and treachery you have raised yourself to where you stand to-day. And you ask me to believe you ... Why ... why should you do this? Why? That is the only test. What profit do you look to make?'
He looked at her with pain and misery in his dark eyes.
'If in this thing there were any design to hurt your brother, I ask you again, madonna, why should I stand here to tell you what I am about to attempt?'
'Why do you tell me at all?'
'To relieve you from anxiety if I succeed in removing him. To let you know if I should fail of the attempt, of the earnest desire, to serve you, although you make it very hard.'
Messer Corsario was hurrying towards them, a volume in his hands.
She stood there, silent, stricken, not knowing what to believe, desiring hungrily to trust Bellarion, yet restrained by every known action in his past.
'If I live, madonna,' he said quietly, lowering his voice to a murmur, 'you shall yet ask me to forgive your cruel unbelief.'
Then he turned to meet Corsario's chuckling triumph, and to submit that the pedant should convict him of error.
'Not so great a scholar as he believes himself, this Messer Bellarion,' Corsario noisily informed the Princess. And then to Bellarion, himself: 'You'll dispute with soldiers, sir, in future, who lack the learning and the means to put you right. Here are the lines; here in "Trimalchio's Supper," as I said. See for yourself.'
Bellarion saw. He simulated confusion. 'My apologies, Messer Corsario, for having given you the trouble to fetch the book. You win the trick.'
It was an inauspicious word. To Valeria it was clear that the trick had lain in temporarily removing Messer Corsario's inconvenient presence, and that trick Bellarion had won.
She moved away now with her ladies who had drawn close upon Corsario's approach, and Bellarion was left to endure the pedant's ineffable company until supper-time.
Later that night Theodore carried him off to his own closet to discuss in private and in greater detail the terms of the proposed alliance.
His highness had considered and had taken his resolve now that he was prepared to enter into a treaty. He looked for a clear expression of satisfaction. But Bellarion disappointed him.
'Your highness speaks, of course, with the full concurrence of your Council?'
'My Council?' The Regent frowned over the question.
'Where the issues are so grave, my Lord Facino will require to be sure that all the terms of the treaty are approved by your Council, so that there may be no going back.'
'In that case, sir,' he was answered a little frostily, 'you had better attend in person before the Council to-morrow, and satisfy yourself.'
That was precisely what Bellarion desired, and having won the point, whose importance the shrewd Theodore was far from suspecting, Bellarion had no more to say on the subject that evening.
In the morning he attended before the Council of Five, the Reggimento, as it was called, of Montferrat. At the head of the council-table the Marquis Theodore was enthroned in a chair of State flanked by a secretary on either hand. Below these sat the councillors, three on one side and two on the other, all of them important nobles of Montferrat, and one of them, a white-bearded man of venerable aspect, the head of that great house of Carreto, which once had disputed with the Paleologi the sovereignty of the State.
When the purpose for which Bellarion came had been formally restated, there was a brief announcement of the resources at Montferrat's disposal and a demand that the occupation of Vercelli should be the first step of the alliance.
When at last Bellarion was categorically informed that Montferrat was prepared to throw her resources into an alliance which they thanked the Count of Biandrate for proposing, Bellarion rose to felicitate the members of the Council upon their decision in terms calculated to fan their smouldering ardour into a roaring blaze. The restoration to Montferrat of Vercelli, the subsequent conquest of Genoa were not, indeed, to be the end in view, but merely a beginning. The two provinces of High and Low Montferrat into which the State at present was divided should be united by the conquest of the territory now lying between. Thus fortified, there would be nothing to prevent Montferrat from pushing her frontiers northward to the Alps and southward to the sea. Then, indeed, might she at last resuscitate and realise her old ambitions. Established not merely as the equal but as the superior of neighbouring Savoy, with Milan crumbling into ruins on her eastward frontiers, it was for Montferrat to assume the lordship of Northern Italy.
It went to their heads, and when Bellarion resumed his seat it was they who now pressed the alliance. No longer asking him what means Facino brought to it, they boasted and exaggerated the importance of those which they could offer.
Thus the treaty came there and then to be drawn up, article by article. The secretaries' pens spluttered and scratched over their parchments, and throughout it seemed to the Regent and his gleeful councillors that they were getting the better of the bargain.
But at the end, when all was done, and the documents complete, Messer Bellarion had a word to say which was as cold water on the white heat to which he had wrought their enthusiasm.
'There remains only the question of a guarantee from you to my Lord Facino.'
'Guarantee!' They echoed the word in a tone which clearly said they did not relish it. The Regent went further.
'Guarantee of what, sir?'
'That Montferrat will fulfil her part of the undertaking.'
'My God, sir! Do you imply a doubt of our honour?'
'It is no question of honour, highness; but of a bargain whose terms are clearly to be set forth to avoid subsequent disputes on either side. Does the word "guarantee" offend your highness? Surely not. For it was your highness who first used that word between us.'
The councillors looked at the Regent. The Regent remembered, and was uncomfortable.
'Yesterday your highness asked me what guarantees my Lord Facino would give that he would fulfil his part. I did not cry out in wounded honour, but at once conceded that the immediate occupation of Vercelli should be your guarantee. Why, then, sirs, should it give rise to heat in you if on my lord's behalf I ask a return in kind, something tangible to back the assurance that when Vercelli is occupied you will march with my Lord Facino against Milan as he may deem best?'
'But unless we do that,' said the Regent impatiently, 'there can follow no conquest of Genoa for us.'
'If there did not, you would still be in possession of Vercelli and that is a great deal. Counsels of supineness might desire you to rest content with that.'
'Should we heed them, do you suppose?' said the Marquis of Carreto.
'I do not. Nor will my lord. But suppositions cannot be enough for him.'
This interruption where all had flowed so smoothly was clearly fretting them. Another interposed: 'Would it not be well, highness, to hear what guarantees my Lord of Biandrate will require?'
And Theodore assenting, Bellarion spoke to anxious ears.
'It is in the nature of a hostage, and one that will cover various eventualities. If, for instance, the Marquis Gian Giacomo should come to the throne before these enterprises are concluded, it is conceivable that he might decline to be bound by your undertakings. If there were no other reasons—and they will be plain enough to your excellencies—that one alone would justify my lord in asking, as he does, that the person of the Marquis of Montferrat be delivered into his care as a hostage for the fulfilment of this treaty.'
Theodore, betrayed into a violent start, sat now pale and thoughtful, commanding his countenance by an effort. Another in his place would have raged and stormed and said upon impulse things from which he might not afterwards retreat. But Theodore Paleologo was no creature of impulse. He weighed and weighed again this thing, and allowed his councillors to babble, listening the while.
They were hostile, of course, to the proposal. It had no precedent, they said. Whereupon Bellarion smothered them in precedents culled from the history of the last thousand years. Retreating from that assertion, then, they became defiant, and assured him that precedent or no precedent they would never lend themselves to any such course.
The Regent still said nothing, and whilst vaguely suspicious he wondered whether the emphatic refusal of the councillors was based upon some suspicion of himself. Had they, by any chance, despite his caution, been harbouring mistrust of his relations with his nephew, and did they think that this proposal of Facino's was some part of his own scheming, covering some design nefarious to the boy?
One of them turned to him now: 'Your highness says no word to this.' And the others with one voice demanded his own pronouncement. He stirred. His face was grave.
'I am as stricken as are you. My opinion, sirs, you have already expressed for me.'
Bellarion, smiling a little, as one who is entirely mystified, now answered them.
'Sirs, suffer me to say that your heat fills me with wonder. My Lord Facino had expected of you that the proposal would be welcome.'
'Welcome?' cried Carreto.
'To view life in a foreign court and camp is acknowledged to be of all steps the most important in the education of a future prince. This is now offered to the Lord Gian Giacomo in such a way that two objects would simultaneously be served.'
The simple statement, so simply uttered, gave pause to their opposition.
'But if harm should befall him while in Facino's hands?' cried one.
'Can you suppose, sirs, that my Lord Facino, himself, would dread the consequences of such a disaster less than you? Can you suppose that any measure would be neglected that could make for the safety and well-being of the Marquis?'
He thought they wavered a little, reassured by his words.
'However, sirs, since you feel so strongly,' he continued, 'my Lord Facino would be very far from wishing me to insist.' One of them drew a breath of relief. The others, if he could judge their countenances, moved in apprehension. The Regent remained inscrutable. 'It remains, sirs,' Bellarion ended, 'for you to propose an alternative guarantee.'
'Time will be lost in submitting it to my Lord Facino,' Carreto deplored, and the others by their nods, and one or two by words, showed the returning eagerness to seal this treaty which meant so much to Montferrat.
'Oh, no,' Bellarion reassured them. 'I am empowered to determine. We have no time to lose. If this treaty is not concluded by to-morrow, my orders are to assume that no alliance is possible and continue my journey to the Cantons to levy there the troops we need.'
They looked at one another blankly, and at last the Regent asked a question.
'Did the Count of Biandrate, himself, suggest no alternative against our refusing him this particular guarantee?'
'It did not occur to him that you would refuse. And, frankly, sirs, in refusing that which himself he has suggested, it would be courteous to supply your reasons, lest he regard it as a reflection upon himself.'
'The reason, sir, you have already been afforded,' Theodore answered. 'We are reluctant to expose our future sovereign to the perils of a campaign.'
'That assumes perils which could not exist for him. But I am perhaps presuming. I accept your reason, highness. It is idle to debate further upon a matter which is decided.'
'Quite idle,' Theodore agreed with him. 'That guarantee we cannot give.'
'And yet ...' began the Marquis of Carreto.
The Regent interrupted him, for once he was without suavity.
'There is "no and yet" to that,' he snapped.
Again the councillors looked at one another. They were growing uneasy. The immediate benefits, and the future glory of Montferrat which had been painted for them, were beginning to dissolve under their eyes like a mirage.
In the awkward pause that followed, Bellarion guessed their minds. He rose.
'In this matter of determining the guarantee, you will prefer, no doubt, to deliberate without me.' He bowed in leave-taking. Then paused.
'It would be a sad thing, indeed, if a treaty so mutually desirable and so rich in promise to Montferrat should fail for no good reason.' He bowed again. 'To command, sirs.'
One of the secretaries came to hold the door for him, and he passed out. An echo of the Babel that was loosed in that room on his departure reached him before he had gone a dozen paces. He smiled quietly as he sought his own apartments. He warmly approved himself. It had been shrewd of him to keep back all hint of the hostage until he stood before the Council. If he had breathed a suggestion of it in his preliminary talks with the Regent, he would have been dismissed at once. Now, however, Messer Theodore was committed to a battle in which his own conscience would fight against him, weakening him by fear of discovery of his true aims.
'The wicked flee when no man pursueth,' said Bellarion to himself. 'And you'll never stand to fight this out, my wicked one.'
An hour and more went by before he was summoned again, to hear the decision of the Council. That decision is best given in Bellarion's own words as contained in the letter preserved for us in the Vatican Library which he wrote that same night to Facino Cane, one of the very few writings of his which are known to survive. It is couched in the pure and austere Lingua Tosca which Dante sanctioned, and it may be Englished as follows:
MY DEAR LORD: These will reach you by the hand of Wenzel who goes hence to Alessandria to-morrow together with ten of my Swiss to serve as escort for the young Prince of Montferrat. To render this escort worthy of his rank, it is supplemented by ten Montferrine lances sent by his highness the Marquis Theodore. Wenzel also bears the treaty with Montferrat, into which I have entered in your name. Its terms are as we concerted. It was not without a deal of cajolery and strategy and only by setting the Regent at odds with his Council that I was able to obtain as a hostage the person of the Marquis Gian Giacomo. The Regent, had the choice been given him, would rather, I think, have sent you his right hand. But he was constrained by the Council who see and rightly only good to the State in this alliance with your excellent lordship.
He has insisted, however, that the boy be accompanied by his tutor Corsario, a scoundrel who has schooled him in naught but lewdness, and his gentleman Fenestrella, who, though young, is an even greater preceptor in those same Stygian arts. Since it is proper that a prince on his travels should be attended by tutor and companion, there was no good objection that I could make to this. But I beg you, my dear lord, to regard these two as the agents of the Marquis Theodore, to watch them closely, and to deal with them drastically should you discover or suspect even that they practise anything against the young Marquis. It would be a good service to the boy, and acceptable, no doubt, in the sight of God, if you were to wring the necks of these two scoundrels out of hand. But difficulties with the Regent of Montferrat would follow.
As for the Prince himself, your lordship will find him soft in body, and empty in mind, or at least empty of all but viciousness. If despite your many occupations and preoccupations your lordship could trouble yourself to mend the lad's ways, or to entrust him to those who will undertake the mending of them and at the same time watch over him vigilantly, you would perform a deed for which God could not fail to reward your lordship.
I need not remind you, my dear lord, that the safety of a hostage is a very sacred matter, nor should I presume so to remind you but for my reasons for believing, as your lordship already knows, that this young Prince may be beset by perils from the very quarters which ordinarily should be farthest from suspicion. In addition to these twain, the Marquis is attended by a physician and two body-servants. Of these I know nothing, wherefore they should be observed as closely as the others.
The responsibility under which you lie towards the State of Montferrat will be your justification for placing attendants of your own choosing to act jointly with these. The physician should be permitted to give the boy no physic of which he does not previously partake. In this way, and if you do not warn him of it beforehand, you may speedily and effectively be rid of him.
I am grieved that you should be plagued with this matter at such a season. But I hope that you will not count the price too dear for the alliance of Montferrat, which puts into the field at once close upon six thousand well-equipped men, between horse and foot. You will now be in sufficient strength to deal at your pleasure with that base Duke and his Guelphic Riminese brigands.
Send me your commands by Wenzel, who is to rejoin me at Lucerne. I shall set out in the morning as soon as the Marquis Gian Giacomo has left Casale for Alessandria. Your lordship shall have news of me soon again.
Humbly I kiss the hands of my lady your Countess, and for you, my dear lord, that God may bless and prosper you is the fervent prayer of this your son and servant
BELLARION