The Betrothed Part 25

"We have mouths also, to eat, and to give our reasons," said another in a voice as timid as the remark was daring, "and since the thing has begun----" But he did not think to finish his sentence.

"It is not only in Milan, that they conceal grain," said another, with a mysterious air--when suddenly they heard approaching the trampling of a horse. They ran to the door, and recognising the person who arrived, they went out to receive him. It was a merchant of Milan, who, going frequently to Bergamo on business, was accustomed to pa.s.s the night at this inn, and as he had almost always found there the same company, he had formed an acquaintance with all of them. They crowded around him--one held the bridle, another the stirrup. "You are welcome."

"And I am glad to find you all here."

"Have you made a good journey?"

"Very good. And you all, how do you do?"

"Well, well. What news from Milan?"

"Ah! there is great news truly," said the merchant, dismounting, and leaving his horse in the care of a boy. "But," continued he, entering the house with the company, "perhaps you know by this time better than I do."

"Truly, we know nothing."

"Is it possible?--Well, you will hear fine news, or rather bad news. Eh!

host! is my bed unoccupied? It is well. A gla.s.s of wine, and my usual dish. Quick, quick! because I must go to bed early, in order to rise early, as I must be at Bergamo to dinner. And you," pursued he, seating himself at the table opposite to Renzo, who continued silent and attentive, "you know nothing of the mischief of yesterday!"

"We heard about yesterday."

"I knew that you must have heard it, being here always on guard to watch travellers."

"But to-day? What has been done to-day?"

"Ah! to-day! Then you know nothing of to-day?"

"Nothing at all. No one has pa.s.sed."

"Then let me wet my lips, and I will tell you what has happened to-day."

He filled the gla.s.s, swallowed its contents, and continued: "To-day, my dear friends, little was wanting to make the tumult worse than yesterday. And I can hardly believe that I am here to tell you, for I had nearly given up all thoughts of coming, that I might stay to guard my shop."

"What was the matter, then?" said one of his auditors.

"What was the matter? I will tell you." And beginning to eat, he at the same time pursued his relation; the company standing on his right and left, listened with open mouths and ears. Renzo, without appearing to hear him, was, in fact, the most attentive of all; and ate his last mouthful very, very slowly. "This morning, then, those vagabonds who made such a hurly-burly yesterday, met at the points agreed on, and began to run from street to street, sending forth cries in order to collect a crowd. You know it is with such people, as when one sweeps a house; the more you sweep, the more dirt you have. When they thought there were people enough, they approached the house of the superintendant of provision, as if the atrocities they committed yesterday were not enough, to a gentleman of his character. Oh! the rascals! And the abuse they bestowed on him! All invention and falsehood: he is a worthy punctual man; I can say it, for I know; and I furnish him cloth for his liveries. They hurried then towards his house--such a mob! such faces! They pa.s.sed before my shop. Such faces--the Jews of the _Via Crucis_ are nothing to them. And the blasphemies they uttered! enough to make one stop one's ears, had it not been for fear of observation. Their intention was to plunder, but----"

"But?" said they all.

"But they found the street barricadoed, and a company of musketeers on guard. When they saw this ceremony--what would you have done?"

"Turn back."

"Certainly; and that is precisely what they did. But see if the devil did not carry them there. When they came on the Cordusio, they saw the baker that they had wanted to plunder the day before; and what do you think they were doing at this baker's? They were distributing bread to purchasers; the first gentlemen of the land were there, watching over its distribution. The mob, instigated by the devil, rushed upon them furiously, and, in the twinkling of an eye, gentlemen, bakers, purchasers, bread, counters, benches, loaves, bags, flour, all topsy-turvy."

"And the musketeers?"

"The musketeers had the vicar's house to guard. One can't sing and carry the cross too. It was done in the twinkling of an eye, I say. Plunder, plunder; every thing was carried off. And then they proposed the amus.e.m.e.nt of yesterday, to burn what remained, in the square, and make a bonfire. And immediately they began, the rascals! to drag every thing out of the house, when one among them----Guess what fine proposal he made!"

"What?"

"What! to gather every thing in the shop in a heap, and set fire to it and the shop at the same time. No sooner said than done----"

"Did they set fire to it?"

"Wait a bit. An honest man in the neighbourhood had an inspiration from Heaven. He ran into the house, ascended the stairs, took a crucifix, and hung it in front of a window; took from the head of the bed two wax candles which had been blessed, lit them, and placed them right and left of the crucifix. The crowd looked up; there is a little fear of G.o.d yet, in Milan, it must be confessed; the crowd retired--a few would have been sacrilegious enough to set fire to paradise itself; but seeing the rest not of their opinion, they were obliged to be quiet. Guess what happened then! All the lords of the cathedral in procession, with the cross elevated, and in pontifical robes; and my lord the arch-priest began to preach on one side, and my lord the _penitenziere_ on the other, and then others here and there: '_But, honest people, what would you do? Is this the example you set to your children? Return to your homes; you shall have bread at a fair price; you can see, yourselves, the rate is affixed at every corner!_'"

"Was it true?"

"Can you doubt it? Do you think the lords of the cathedral would come in their robes and declare falsehoods?"

"And what did the people do?"

"By little and little they dispersed; they ran to the corners of the streets; the rate was there for those who knew how to read. Eight ounces of bread for a penny!"

"What good fortune."

"The vine is fine, if its fruitfulness continues. Do you know how much flour has been consumed since yesterday? As much as would supply the dukedom two months."

"And have they made no good law for us country people?"

"What they have done at Milan is for the city alone. I know not what to tell you; for you, it must be as G.o.d shall direct. The tumult has entirely ceased for the present; I have not told you all yet. Here is the best----"

"What! is there any thing more?"

"Yesterday evening, or this morning, they have arrested some of the leaders, and they have been told that four will be hung. Hardly was this known, when every one betook himself home by the shortest road, so as not to be the fifth. Milan, when I left it, resembled a convent of monks."

"But will they really hang them?"

"Undoubtedly, and very soon," replied the merchant.

"And what will the people do?"

"The people will go to see them," said the merchant. "They desired so much to see a man hung, that the rascals were about to satisfy their curiosity on the superintendent of provision. They will see instead, four rogues, accompanied by capuchins and friars of the _buona morte_[28]; well, they have richly deserved it. It is a providence, you see; it was a necessary thing. They had begun to enter the shops, and take what they wanted, without putting their hand to their purse. If they had been suffered to go on their own way, after bread, it would have been wine, and then something else--and I a.s.sure you, as an honest man, keeping a shop, it was not a very agreeable idea."

[28] Good death. A confraternity which exists under the same name in the south of France.

"a.s.suredly not," said one of his auditors.

"a.s.suredly not," repeated the others in chorus.

"And," continued the merchant, "it had been in preparation a long while.

There was a league, you know?"

"A league!"

"A league. Cabals instigated by the Navarrese, by that cardinal of France, you know, who has a half-barbarous name, and who every day offers some new affront to the crown of Spain. But he aims chiefly at Milan, because he knows, the knave, that the strength of the king lies there."

"Indeed!"