The Betrothed Part 22

But Renzo continued to bellow, "I understand it, you belong to the league. Wait, wait, till I settle matters for you;" and turning to the door, he bellowed down the stairs, "Friends! the host is of the----"

"I spoke in jest," cried the host, pus.h.i.+ng him towards the bed, "in jest; did you not perceive I spoke in jest?"

"Ah, in jest; now you talk reasonably. Since you said it in jest--they are just the thing to make a jest of----." And he fell on the bed.

"Undress yourself quickly," said the host; and adding his a.s.sistance to his advice, the thought occurred to him, to ascertain if there were any money in Renzo's pockets, as on the morrow it would fall into hands from which an innkeeper would have but little chance of recovering it; he therefore hazarded another attempt, saying to Renzo, "You are an honest youth, are you not?"

"Yes, an honest youth," replied Renzo, still endeavouring to rid himself of his clothes.

"Well, settle this little account with me now, because to-morrow I am obliged to leave home on business."

"That's right," said Renzo "I am honest. But the money--we must find the money----!"

"Here it is," said the host; and calling up all his patience and skill, he succeeded in obtaining the reckoning.

"Lend me your hand to finish undressing, host," said Renzo; "I begin to comprehend, do you see, that----I am very sleepy."

The host rendered him the desired service, and covering him with the quilt, bade him "Good night."

The words were scarcely uttered before poor Renzo snored. The host stopped to contemplate him a moment by the light of his lantern; "Mad blockhead!" said he to the poor sleeper, "thou hast accomplished thy own ruin! dunces, who want to travel over the world, without knowing where the sun rises, to entangle themselves with affairs they know nothing of, to their own injury and that of their neighbour!"

So saying, he left the apartment, having locked the door outside, and calling to his wife, told her to take his place in the kitchen, "Because," said he, "I must go out for a while, thanks to a stranger who is here, unhappily for me;" he then briefly related the annoying circ.u.mstance, adding, "And now keep an eye on all, and above all be prudent. There is below a company of dissolute fellows, who, between drink and their natural disposition, are very very free of speech.

Enough--if any of them should dare----"

"Oh! I am not a child! I know what I ought to do. It could never be said----"

"Well, well. Be careful to make them pay. If they talk of the superintendant of provision, the governor, Ferrer, and the council of ten, and the gentry, and Spain and France, and other follies, pretend not to hear them, because, if you contradict them, it may go ill with you now, and if you argue with them, it may go ill with you hereafter; and take care, when you hear any dangerous remarks, turn away your head, and call out 'Coming, sir.' I will endeavour to return as soon as possible."

So saying, he descended with her into the kitchen, put on his hat and cloak, and taking a cudgel in his hand, departed. As he walked along the road, he resumed the thread of his apostrophe to poor Renzo. "Headstrong mountaineer!"--for that Renzo was such, had been manifest from his p.r.o.nunciation, countenance, and manners, although he vainly tried to conceal it,--"on a day like this, when by dint of skill and prudence I had kept my hands clean, you must come at the end of it to spoil all I have done! Are there not inns enough in Milan, that you must come to mine! at least, if you had been alone, I would have winked at it for to-night, and made you understand matters to-morrow. But no; my gentleman must come in company, and, to do the thing better, in company with an informer."

At this moment he perceived a patrole of soldiers approaching; drawing on one side to let them pa.s.s, and eyeing them askance, he continued, "There go the fool-punishers. And thou, great b.o.o.by, because thou saw'st a few people making a little noise, thou must think the world was turned upside down; and on this fine foundation thou hast ruined thyself and would have ruined me; I have done all I could to save thee, now thou must get thyself out of trouble. As if I wanted to know thy name from curiosity! What was it to me whether it were Thaddeus or Bartholomew? I have truly great satisfaction in taking a pen in my hand! I know well enough that there are proclamations which are disregarded; just as if we had need of a mountaineer to tell us that! And dost thou not know, thou fool! what would be done to a poor innkeeper, who should be of thy opinion (since upon them the proclamation bear hardest), and should not inform himself of the name of any one who did him the favour to lodge at his house. _Under penalty of whoever of the above-said hosts, tavern keepers, and others, of three hundred crowns_,--behold three hundred crowns hatched; and now to spend them well,--_two thirds to be applied to the royal chamber, and the other third to the accuser or informer.

And in case of inability, five years in the galleys, and greater pecuniary and corporal punishments, at the discretion of his Excellency._ Very much obliged for such favours, indeed!" He ended his soliloquy, finding himself at his destined point, the palace of the _Capitano di Giustizia_.

There, as in all the offices of the secretaries, there was a great deal of business going on; on all sides, persons were employed in issuing orders to ensure the peace of the following day, to take from rebellion every pretext, to cool the audacity of those who were desirous of fresh disorders, and to concentrate power in the hands of those accustomed to exercise it. The number of the soldiers who protected the house of the superintendant was increased; the ends of the streets were defended by large pieces of timber thrown across them; the bakers were ordered to bake bread without intermission; expresses were sent to all the surrounding villages, with orders to send corn into the city; and at every baker's some of the n.o.bility were stationed, to watch over the distribution, and to restrain the discontented by fair words and the authority of their presence. But to give, as they said, a blow to the hoop, and another to the cask, and increase the efficacy of their caresses by a little awe, they took measures to seize some of the seditious, and this was the princ.i.p.al duty of the _Capitano di Giustizia_. His blood-hounds had been in the field since the commencement of the tumult; and this self-styled Ambrose Fusella was a police officer in disguise, who, having listened to the famous sermon of Renzo, concluded him to be fair game. Finding that he had but newly arrived from his village, he would have conducted him immediately to prison, as the safest inn in the city; but in this, as we have seen, he did not succeed. He could, however, carry to the police certain information of his _name_, _surname_, and _country_, besides many other conjectures; so that when the host arrived to tell what he knew of Renzo, their knowledge was already more precise than his. He entered the accustomed hall, and gave in his deposition, that a stranger had come to lodge at his house, who would not tell his name.

"You have done your duty in giving us the information," said a notary, laying down his pen; "but we know it already."

"That is very singular!" thought the host; "you must have a great deal of cunning."

"And we know also," continued the notary, "this famous name."

"The devil! the name also. How do they know that?" thought the host again.

"But," resumed the notary, with a serious air, "you do not tell all."

"What is there more to tell?"

"Ah! ah! we know well that this man carried to your house a quant.i.ty of stolen bread--bread acquired by theft and sedition."

"A man comes with bread in his pocket; am I to know where he got it? if it was on my death-bed, I can say, I only saw him have one loaf."

"Thus it is! you are always excusing and defending yourselves! If we were to take your word for it, you are all honest people. How can you prove that this bread was honestly acquired?"

"Why need I prove it? it is nothing to me. I am an innkeeper."

"You cannot, however, deny, that this, your customer, had the audacity to complain of the proclamations, and make indecent jokes on the arms of his Excellency."

"Pardon me, signor; how could he be my customer, when I never saw him before? It was the devil, saving your presence, who sent him to my house. If I had known him, there would have been no need of asking his name, as your honour knows."

"However, in your inn, and in your presence, seditious and inflammatory conversation has been held; your customers have been riotous, clamorous, and complaining."

"How would your honour expect me to pay attention to the absurdities uttered by a parcel of brawlers. I attend only to my own affairs, for I am a poor man. And then your honour knows, that those who are lavish of their tongue, are often lavish of their fists, especially when there are many together."

"Yes, yes, they may have their way now; to-morrow--to-morrow, we will see if the heat is dislodged from their brains. What do you think?"

"I don't know."

"That the mob will become masters in Milan?"

"Certainly!"

"You shall see, you shall see."

"I understand--I know the king will be always the king; but he who has taken any thing will keep it. Naturally a poor father of a family has no desire to give back; your honours have the power; that belongs to you."

"Have you still some people at your house?"

"A number."

"And this your customer, what is he about? Is he still labouring to excite the people to sedition?"

"This stranger, your honour means; he is gone to sleep."

"Then you have a number? Well, be careful not to let them go away."

"Am I to play the constable?" thought the host, but said nothing.

"Return to your house, and be prudent," resumed the notary.

"I have always been prudent. Your honour can say that I have never made any disturbance."

"Well, well; but do not think that justice has lost its power."

"I! Good heavens! I think nothing. I am an innkeeper."

"The same old tune. Have you nothing more to say?"

"What else would your honour have me say? Truth is one."

"Well; you have done enough for to-day: but to-morrow, we will see; you must give more full information, and answer all questions that shall be put to you."