Beati Paoli
by Luigi Natoli
part three, chapter 8
| Italiano | English |
Returning to Palermo with Violante, still moved and almost feverish, Gabriella was in a deep depression, in which fermented a yeast of anger, spite, self-injured love, jealousy and hatred. Hate wrapped together Violante and Blasco. As much as the girl's answers had the whiteness of innocence, unawareness and unsuspectingness and as brightly protested against every suspicion Blasco, and swore he had not said a single word, nor made any hint of feelings to the girl, Gabriella woman could not abolish in the soul the suspicion that they hid with a very skillful fiction how much ran between them.
She could not believe that a man in love, being in possession of the beloved woman, could impose the greatest sacrifice, that of silence. She was sure that Blasco had spoken; certainly she had broken into the heart of the maiden, already predisposed by sympathy. But he would have liked to have confirmed it from the mouth of both: a precise confirmation, detailed; he would have liked to taste the bitter joy of tormenting his jealousy and nourishing his own hatred, with a small narration, for her anguish. That Blasco loved Violante, she was sure by now; the appearance of him, the tone of his words, that loss, that immediately blush and pale, were revealing signs that did not even admit the shadow of a doubt.
All the way, swinging from the litter, he didn't say a word; but when he came to the palace, he locked himself in the room with his stepdaughter: grabbed her violently by her wrists, shoving her eyes in her eyes, she said hard:
"So, then, that I may keep the honor of your house?"
Violante looked at her with amazement full of fear: She didn't understand those words, but the appearance of a woman Gabriella and the vehemence of the gesture caused her a terror that caused her to lose her. What did those words mean? What honor were you talking about? What harm had he done?...
"Mrs. Mother," she stuttered: "I don't understand!"
The Duchess filmed with a convulsive and sarcastic rice:
"Don't you understand? At your age, you don't understand!.. I'll make you understand!..."
He kept quiet, as if to taste the pleasure of the investigations he wanted to do; then, with his bitter mouth, he asked her:
"When Mr. Blasco put you in front of him!... he placed you in front of him, didn't he?"
"Yes..."
"Well, did he embrace you? He squeezed you for life... so?..."
He girded her torso, pressing it by her breast; and her hand trembled...
"No, Madame Mother," answered Violante with simplicity; "he said to me instead: "Hug me" and I hugged him so I wouldn't fall..."
"And... and you liked to hold on to him? Have you not felt any joy in pressing on him?"
Violent blushed; his modesty rose again.
Say... speak...
"I don't know... I couldn't say it;" stuttered the girl; "I was so afraid!"
"Don't you find Mr. Blasco handsome?"
Violent blushed again: Then he whitened on his face and his lips became dumb. His chest seemed to swell: He stuttered with a begging voice:
"Why do you ask me these questions that confuse me, make me die?"
His voice trembled by the repressed tears: but Lady Gabriella felt that she had to be more fierce and ruthless:
"Confess," he said with an altered and angry voice, "confess that you love Mr. Blasco!..."
Violent threw a cry and covered his face with his hands; love? What did your stepmother mean? So that word suddenly woke up in the depths of his dark conscience instincts revealing, that to that point she had not understood, or that they had gone unnoticed, and were deeply perturbing it. Of the flames, one after the other, burning her face; of the burning tears came to her eyes; a great shame, a great dismay, an inexplicable and inexpressible loss invaded her. That word: to love, which he had spoken many times in prayers, appeared to her as a new word, full of mysteries, fears, threats, unknown things and yet as a I do not know that, to which he could not escape, as a goal to which he was to reach with a man... A man! Mr. Blasco! The veil within which Blasco from Castiglione had appeared to her, here was ripped apart; the dark sympathy, that sweet feeling of attraction that seemed nothing extraordinary to her, nothing different from what she felt for other people whose sight brought her pleasure; that admiration, that trust, that abandonment, that joy of seeing him next to her, of knowing how to be saved by him, of talking about him; all this was therefore love!... She loved Blasco! And only now did he tremble at the thought that he had embraced him, that he had grasped him, that he had slept with his face by his face, with his hands in his hands. He trembled, and a thrill ran for the person and a pain and a languor at the same time descended for the blood, and a hiccup broke them out of the chest. He loved Blasco!... Fear and shame pervaded her and yet insinuated a desire and a torment in her blood.
Curve over her, Gabriella woman peered at her; her gaze went down, penetrated into the deep lathes of that inexperienced heart that knew no infiction and revealed itself.
"Do you love her, then?" she insisted.
He violently ripped his hands from her face. Violent believed that he had committed a great fault; the threatening, altered appearance of her stepmother made what she called love appear to her, as something monstrous. He fell down on his knees before Gabriella, sobbing:
"Forgiveness! Forgiveness!..."
Forgiveness for what? What was he accusing himself of? What did he do? Forgive me!...
Donna Gabriella took those words as a confession; her anger and frost were blinded; she beat her stepdaughter, she threw it on the ground, exclaiming in her tight teeth:
"You will never see him again!... you will not have him!... No, no, no!"
He went out and locked the door and left the poor girl on the ground, sobbing and terrified.
The Duchess had a heart puffed up with the desire to take revenge: she immediately attached her carriage and went to the royal palace to ask for an extraordinary hearing with the Viceroy.
It was not really a day of audience and the anteroom was empty of postulants; moreover, the antechamber of Viceroy Mattei had nothing common with those of the Spanish viceroys, to whom the Sicilians were accustomed.
The habits of sparingy that the king with his pragmatism had tried to impose on the nobility of the kingdom, were strictly observed to the extent to which he maintained the viceroyalty court. Without the strictly necessary number of lackeys, valets, pages, ushers, waiters, secretaries and officers there was not that cowardice of knights and parasites that sat together the halls of the royal palace at the time of the Spanish viceroys, and that formed for them a sumptuous and truly royal court. The liveries themselves did not have the splendour of gallons and embroideries, which were accustomed to the eyes of the citizens, and which, constituting the outward sign of royality, enraged the people of the capital, who saw in it almost a respect for its importance, a proof of the consideration in which it was held by the king's representative.
That of the Viceroy of Piedmont was a modest anteroom, of people who go to the point and do not care for the apparatuses and vanities: Count Mattei had accepted from Parliament, like the Spanish viceroy, the gift of a thousand onze per se and two hundred for his eldest waiter, but he had not, by this, derogated from his customs of life, nor had he placed the viceroyal court on a more magnificent throne.
When the Duchess arrived at the royal palace, Count Mattei was still in his office, with the secretary, ordering the usual mail to be sent to the king in Turin and trying to orient himself in that labyrinth of laws, customs, constitutions, privileges, prammatics, jurisdictions that constituted the law of the kingdom. He also had the question of Rome on his hands; the struggle with the Curia, for the interdict launched over two dioceses: that of Catania and that of Girgenti, who threatened to widen throughout Sicily.
However, the altered appearance of the Duchess, her name, induced the major waiter to pass the embassy to her Excellency. If the voice mail had been closed, if the time assigned to the office had been passed, Gabriella woman would have in vain shaken the inflexibleness of the major waiter.
His Excellency deigned to receive the Duchess in a room nearby. He was also impressed to see Gabriella, and feared that some painful news had come to her from Turin.
"I come to beg the justice of your Excellency," said Gabriella.
"I am here, precisely to exercise this office, madam; speak..."
"Your Excellency knows of the educator who was kidnapped the other night by the monastery of Montevergini."
"Yeah; well?"
"Your Excellency still knows that the educator is the daughter of the Duke of Motta... and my stepdaughter..."
"Yes, and he gave the strictest orders to find her and punish the guilty..."
"It is not necessary to seek the maiden; she is in my house!..."
"How?..."
"The justice of your Excellency has not been as solicitous as I have..."
Count Mattei frowned on his eyebrows, but he could not dominate his amazement:
"And in Madame's house?... So they didn't kidnap her?..."
"They had kidnapped her, Excellency; and this morning, warned by the poor girl, I went to take her back, in the country, where they had almost abandoned her... and in what state!..."
"Madama, I'm surprised... Where?..."
"To Grace... I know the guilty, indeed the guilty..."
"And who is this?"
"An adventurer, who was already admitted to our home by the liberality of the duke, my lord and husband; a certain Blasco from Castiglione, who perhaps wanted to strike a blow on the heritage of the maiden, a co-heir of the duke..."
"Blasco da Castiglione?... Wait, madam; isn't he a young man who was arrested in Messina and fled?..."
"Exactly..."
"But he is wanted by justice!..."
"Well, he laughs at it, if he can come to Palermo and do, in spite of everything, a feat like this to kidnap an educator!..."
"But the Beati Paoli were warned."
"He must be one of the leaders."
"Can Madame give me directions on the deed?"
"He's wandering around those districts, apparently. The place where I found my stepdaughter belongs to the Prince of Trabia..."
"All right: Thank you for this news..."
"But we must not exclude, Your Excellency, that he comes to Palermo and that at this hour, perhaps, we are..."
"Do you have any known friends besides the cult?"
"One that I know of... the knight of Floresta..."
"A gentleman?"
"Yes... he's known..."
"His protector?..."
"Maybe..."
"I'll give the proper orders..."
"Your Excellency, bear in mind that, after this rat, the maiden, if she has not lost her life, has lost her reputation."
"Madama, let me..."
It seemed with these words that the Viceroy dismissed the Duchess, but Gabriella added:
"In the meantime I feel no longer cared for in my palace: I implore Your Excellency to admit myself to some royal castle, with her stepdaughter, for my peace... until the return of Mr. Duke my husband!..."
The Viceroy thought for a minute and replied:
"It wouldn't be badly done. Would you be happy with the Termini castle? There was hospitalized the family of the viceroy in the turbid of 1709, if I am not mistaken..."
"I am pleased and thank your Excellency for so much goodness. And then, I would like to beg you to give the appropriate orders, because I will leave immediately..."
"Do you want to go to the ground? I wouldn't recommend it: I have news of a gang of street thieves, running along the road to Termini..."
"I'll leave by sea; I'll order a feluca..."
"I'll have a sergeant accompany you."
"Oh, Your Excellency, I am very grateful to you and I will write to my husband your graces..."
This time Gabriella rose, kissed the hand of her Excellency, and returned to the palace. As soon as he entered, he called the master of the house:
"At once: Go to the Cala, contract a feluca that leaves for Termini in two, three hours at the latest: and order the trunks for me and for the Duchessina."
The order made the palace noise, already excited by the extraordinary events of those days. The waiters were busy filling trunks and sacks of clothing, linen and jewelry, and all that might be needed for the mistress's clothing. Some servants came and went to warn the prosecutor, the rational or "counter" - as was said then - and the relatives. Those two hours were a busy ride, a run, a way of transport and carriages. The servants seemed to have lost their minds. In the street, where all the day had been spent chatting and commenting on the rapture, the finding and the return of the girl, there were creatures; the news that the Duchess went to Termini with her stepdaughter ran on all mouths. Everyone explained it in their own way. There were also those who believed that it was punishment, for not having watched enough on the maiden.
When at twenty-one hour in Italy, the Duchess came out of the palace, in a carriage, with her stepdaughter next to her, followed in another carriage by her maid and a servant, she found the road almost blocked by the crowd and had to open the door barely.
The nearest relatives accompanied her to the Cala where the feluca was moored, at the church of Piedigrotta. All that time woman Gabriella did not say a word to her stepdaughter. The only words he spoke to her, returning from the royal palace, were these:
"Your equal maidens close in castles, get ready to go."
And that's all he told her. Violent remained as stoned by that announcement and more by the hardness with which it was given: He obeyed, and all the way he stood in the corner of the chariot as to escape the eyes of all, and with his head low to see not, and not to be seen. He truly believed that he had committed some serious lack, and that this one was read on her face: But since the word of woman Gabriella had ripped the fog of unknowingness and had illuminated her, without wanting it, the depths of the heart, Violante did not think that Blasco and the image of the young man insisted before the eyes of the mind, so, as she had long looked at him, with a beautiful face leaning on his pillow and suffused of the sweet tranquillity of sleep.
