The Serapion Brethren Volume Ii Part 29

"Saints and angels!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Antonio, "your right leg is broken just at the most dangerous place. If it is not attended to immediately, you are a dead man; or, at the very least, lamed for life."

Capuzzi uttered a frightful howl. "Calm yourself, my dear Signor," said Antonio. "Although I am a painter now, I have not forgotten my surgery.

We will carry you into Salvator's lodgings, and I will bandage you properly at once."

"Dear Signor Antonio," whined Capuzzi, "you are inimically minded towards me, I am aware."

"Ah!" interposed Salvator, "there can be no question of enmity in a case like this. You are in danger, and that is sufficient reason why the honourable Antonio should devote all his skill to your service.

Take hold of him, friend Antonio."

Together they lifted the old man up softly and carefully, and carried him--crying out over the suffering which his broken leg caused him--to Salvator's lodgings.

Dame Caterina declared she had felt quite certain that something was going to happen, and consequently hadn't been able to go to bed. And when she saw the old gentleman and heard what had happened to him, she broke out into reproaches as to his works and ways. "I know well enough, Signor Pasquale, who it was that you were taking home, as usual. You think, as long as you have your pretty niece Marianna at home with you, you don't require any woman to do anything there, and you most shamefully and G.o.d-defiantly misuse that poor creature of a Pitichinaccio, whom you dress up in woman's clothes. But remember, _ogni carne ha il mio osso_--every flesh has its own bones. If you have a girl in the house, you can't do without women. _Fate il pa.s.so secondo il gamba_--don't stretch your legs farther than the bedcover goes, and don't do more, nor less, than what is right for your Marianna. Don't shut her up like a prisoner. Don't turn your house into a gaol. _Asino punto convien che trotti_--one who has started on the road must go along. You have a pretty niece, and you must arrange your life accordingly; that's to say, you mustn't do what she doesn't wish. But you are an ungallant, hard-hearted man, and (I'm afraid I must say, at your time of life), amorous and jealous into the bargain. You must pardon me for saying all this straight out to your face, but you know _chi ha nel petto fiele, non pu sputar miele_--what the heart is full of comes out at the lips. If you don't die of this accident of yours--as, at your time of life, it is to be feared you will--I hope it will be a warning to you, and you'll leave your niece at liberty to do what she wishes, and marry the charming young gentleman whom I think I know about."

Thus did the stream of Dame Caterina's words flow on, whilst Salvator and Antonio carefully undressed the old gentleman and laid him on the bed. Dame Caterina's words were dagger-thrusts, which went deep into his heart; but, whenever he tried to get in a word between them, Antonio impressed on him that anything in the nature of talking was fraught with the utmost danger, so that he was obliged to swallow the bitter pill of her utterances. Salvator at length sent her away to get some iced water, which Antonio had ordered.

Salvator and Antonio convinced themselves that the fellow whom they had employed had done his business most admirably. Beyond one or two blue marks, Capuzzi had not suffered the slightest damage, frightful as his tumble had the appearance of being. Antonio carefully put splints and bandages on his right foot and leg, so that he could not move; and at the same time they wrapped him in cloths soaked in iced water, on the pretext of keeping off fever, so that he s.h.i.+vered as if he were in an ague.

"My good Signor Antonio," he said, in faint accents, "tell me, is it all over with me? Am I a dead man?"

"Do not excite yourself, Signor Pasquale," said Antonio.

"As you bore the first application of the bandages so well, and did not fall into a faint, I hope all danger is over; but the most careful nursing is absolutely essential. The most important point is that the surgeon must not let you be out of his sight for a moment."

"Ah, Antonio!" whined the old gentleman, "you know how fond I am of you--what a high opinion I have of your talent! Don't leave me--give me your dear hand! That is it! My dear, good son, you won't go away from me, will you?"

"Although I am no longer a surgeon," said Antonio, "although I have cast away the abominable slavery of that calling to the four winds of heaven, I do not mind making an exception in your case, Signor Pasquale, and I undertake to cure you. The only thing which I ask of you in return is, that you will give me back your friends.h.i.+p--your confidence; you have been a little hard towards me."

"Say nothing about that," whispered the old fellow; "do not let us allude to it, dear Antonio."

"Your niece," said Antonio, "will be half-dead with anxiety at your not having come home. All things considered, you are wonderfully strong and well, and we will move you to your own house as soon as it is daylight.

When we have got you there, I will have another look at your bandages, and see to the bed upon which you are to be laid; and I will tell your niece all that will be necessary to do in your case, so that you may very soon be quite better."

The old gentleman heaved a very deep sigh, closed his eyes, and remained silent for some moments. He then stretched his hand out toward Antonio, drew him close to him, and said, in a whisper: "Tell me, dearest Antonio, I am right, am I not, in supposing that all that about Marianna--my niece--was merely your fun--the sort of jesting which gets into young fellows' heads?"

"I beg you," said Antonio, "not to think about matters of that sort at such a time as this. Put them out of your head altogether. It is certainly true that your niece did attract my eyes a little; but I have very different matters in my mind at present. And--I must tell you quite candidly--I am very glad that you sent me and my foolish attempt to the right about so speedily. I thought I was in love with Marianna, but it was merely that I saw in her a splendid model for my Magdalene.

I presume that is why I have become completely indifferent to her since my picture was finished. I have no longer the slightest interest in her."

"Antonio!" cried the old gentleman; "Antonio, blessed of heaven! you are my comfort, my help, my consolation! If you are not in love with Marianna, my troubles are at an end."

"To tell you the truth, Signor Pasquale," said Salvator, "if one did not know you to be a serious man, of great intelligence, very well aware what is suitable to his advanced period of life, one would be disposed to fancy that you were idiot enough to be in love with this niece of yours (a child of sixteen) yourself."

The old man closed his eyes again, and groaned and lamented over the terrible sufferings he was enduring, which had returned with double force.

The morning-red came streaming through the window. Antonio told the old gentleman it was time to take him to his own house in Strada Ripetta.

He answered with a deep, melancholy sigh. Salvator and Antonio lifted him out of bed, and wrapped him in a large cloak of Dame Caterina's, which had been her husband's. The old gentleman implored, for the love of all the saints, that the shameful ice-cloths which were upon his bald head should be taken away, and that he should wear his periwig and plumed hat; also that Antonio should, as far as possible, arrange his moustaches, so that Marianna should not be too much alarmed by his appearance. Two bearers, with a litter, were waiting at the door. Dame Caterina, continually scolding at the old gentleman, and quoting proverbs plentifully, brought down bedding, in which, carefully packed, and attended by Salvator and Antonio, he was got home to his own house.

When Marianna saw her uncle in this terrible condition, she gave a loud cry, and a flood of tears burst from her eyes. Without paying any attention to her lover, who was present, she took the old man's hands, pressed them to her lips, and lamented over the sad misfortune which had befallen him. Such was this good girl's compa.s.sion for the old fellow who tortured her with his insane fondness for her. All the same the inborn nature of woman within her displayed itself, for a few significant looks of Salvator's were amply sufficient to let her understand the whole position of matters. It was only then that she gave a stolen glance at the happy Antonio, blus.h.i.+ng deeply as she did so, and it was marvellous to see how a somewhat roguish smile victoriously dispelled her tears. On the whole, Salvator had never thought that she was so delightful, so wonderfully lovely (notwithstanding the Magdalene picture) as he now found her actually to be. And whilst he almost envied Antonio his good fortune, he felt doubly the necessity of getting the poor girl out of the clutches of the accursed Capuzzi, at whatever cost.

The latter, welcomed in this charming manner (which he by no means deserved) by his delightful niece, forgot his troubles; he smiled, and ogled, working his lips so that his moustaches went up and down; and he groaned and whined, not so much from pain as from amorousness.

Antonio skilfully prepared the bed for his patient, and when he had been laid down upon it, tightened the bandages--and did so to such an extent on the left leg, that the old gentleman had, perforce, to lie as motionless as a wooden doll. Salvator went away, leaving the lovers to their happiness.

The old gentleman was lying buried in cus.h.i.+ons, and Antonio had, moreover, so bound a thick cloth soaked in ice-water about his head, that he could not hear a trace of what the lovers were whispering; so they now, for the first time, uttered all that was in their hearts, and vowed eternal fidelity, with tears and the sweetest kisses. The old man could not possibly have any suspicion, as Marianna, every now and then, kept asking him if there was anything he wanted, and even permitted him to press her little white hand to his lips. When it was high day, Antonio hastened away, according to his own statement, to order what was further necessary for the patient, but, in reality, to consider how he might possibly manage to keep him in a still more helpless state, if he could, so that Salvator and he might reflect upon what steps were to be taken in the next place.

A fresh plot which Salvator and Antonio form, and carry out upon Signor Pasquale Capuzzi and his a.s.sociates; and the results thereof.

On the following morning Antonio came to Salvator, all vexation and anger.

"Well, how goes it?" Salvator cried to him. "What are you hanging your head for, superlatively happy man, who can kiss and caress his darling every day?"

"Ah, Salvator!" answered Antonio; "it is all over with my happiness.

The devil delights in making me the sport of his tricks. Our plots have all come to nothing, and we are at open war with the accursed Capuzzi."

"So much the better! so much the better!" said Salvator. "But tell me what has been happening."

"Just imagine, Salvator," said Antonio. "When, yesterday, I was going back to Strada Ripetta, after I had been gone about two hours, bringing all sorts of essences, &c., there I saw the old gentleman standing at his door, completely dressed. At his back were the Pyramid Doctor, and the accursed Sbirro, whilst there was some little many-coloured object running in and out amongst their legs; this, I believe, was that little abortion of a Pitichinaccio. As soon as the old fellow saw me he menaced me with his fist, uttered the most gruesome curses and maledictions, and swore he would have every bone in my body broken if I dared to come to his door. 'Be off with you to all the devils in h.e.l.l, cursed Beard-scratcher!' he croaked and screamed at me. 'You thought to make a fool of me, with all sorts of infernal lies and deceptions; you have striven like the very Satan himself to tempt and mislead my Marianna. But wait a little. I will spend my last farthing, if necessary, in getting your life-light snuffed out before you are aware of it. And as for your fine patron, Signor Salvator--the murderer, the robber, the cheat-the-gallows!--he shall to h.e.l.l to join his leader, Mas' Aniello. Him I'll get kicked out of Rome; that won't give me much trouble.' Thus did the old man rave; and as the cursed Sbirro, egged on by the Pyramid Doctor, made as if he would set on me and attack me, whilst the curious populace began to crowd round, what could I do but get off as quickly as possible? In my despair I thought I should not come to you, for I felt certain you would only laugh--and in fact you hardly can help doing so at this moment."

Indeed, when Antonio ceased speaking, Salvator did laugh heartily.

"Now," he cried, "now the affair is really beginning to become most delightful. But I shall now tell you, circ.u.mstantially, my dear Antonio, what happened in Capuzzi's house when you had gone out. Scarcely had you got down-stairs, when Signor Splendiano Accoramboni--who, heaven knows how, had found out that his bosom friend Capuzzi had broken his leg in the night--came, in the most solemn state, to see him, bringing a surgeon with him. Your bandagings, and your whole treatment of Capuzzi, could not but excite some suspicion; the surgeon took the splints and bandages off, and of course found--what we know very well--that there was nothing whatever the matter with Capuzzi's foot; not so much as a sprained ankle. Very well; it did not require much acuteness to find out the rest."

"My dearest Maestro," asked Antonio, full of amazement, "how on earth did you manage to find out all this?--how could you get into Capuzzi's house, and know all that went on?"

"I told you," said Salvator, "that in Capuzzi's house--and in fact on the same storey with him--there lives an acquaintance of Dame Caterina's. This acquaintance, the widow of a wine-merchant, has a daughter whom my little Margerita often goes to see. Girls have a special faculty for finding out others like themselves, and in this way Rosa (the wine-merchant's widow's daughter) and Margerita soon discovered a little peep-hole in the dining-room, which is the next room to a dark chamber which opens into Marianna's room. The whisperings of the girls by no means escaped Marianna's notice, neither did the peephole; so that the way to mutual communications was marked out, and taken advantage of. When the old gentleman is having his afternoon nap, the girls have a right good chatter to their heart's content. You have no doubt noticed that little Margerita (her mother's favourite, and mine) is by no means so grave and reserved as her elder sister Anna, but a droll, merry creature. Without having exactly told her about your love affair, I have asked her to get Marianna to let her know all that goes on in the house. In this she has proved very clever; and if I, just now, laughed a little at your pain and despair, it was because I have it in my power to prove to you that your affairs have just, for the first time, got into an exceedingly favourable groove. I have a whole sackful of delightful news for you."

"Salvator!" cried Antonio, his eyes bright with joy, "what hopes dawn upon me! Blessings on the peephole in the dining-room. I can write to Marianna--Margerita will take the note with her."

"No, no, Antonio," said Salvator, "not quite that; Margerita shall do us good service without being exactly your go-between. Besides, chance--which often plays strange tricks--might place your love-prattle in the hands of old Capuzzi, and bring a thousand new troubles upon Marianna's head, just at the moment when she is on the point of getting the amorous old goose properly and completely under her little satin shoe. For just listen how affairs are progressing. The style in which Marianna received him when he was taken home has turned him round completely. He believes no less a thing than that Marianna has ceased to care for you, but has given one half of her heart to him, so that all he has to do is to get hold of the other half. Since she has imbibed the poison of your kisses, she has all at once become some three years cleverer and more experienced. She has not only convinced the old gentleman that she had nothing to do with our escapade, but that she abhors the idea of it, and would repel with the deepest scorn any plot which should have the object of bringing you into her proximity. In the excess of his delight at this, he vowed that if there should be anything he could do to please her, he would set about it in a moment; she had but to give her wish a name. On this she very quietly said what she would like would be that her _zio carissima_ should take her to the theatre outside the Porto del Popolo, to see Signor Formica.

The old fellow was somewhat startled by this, and consulted with the Pyramid Doctor and Pitichinaccio; and the result is that Signor Pasquale and Signor Splendiano are actually going to take Marianna to the said theatre to-morrow. Pitichinaccio is to be dressed as a waiting-maid; but he only consented to this on condition that Pasquale should give him a periwig, over and above the plush doublet, and that he and the Pyramid Doctor should relieve each other, from time to time, of the task of carrying him home at night. This has been all agreed upon; and this remarkable three-bladed-clover will really go, to-morrow evening, with beautiful Marianna, to see Signor Formica, at the theatre outside the Porto del Popolo."

It is necessary now to say something as to this theatre, and Signor Formica himself.

Nothing can be sadder than when, at carnival time in Rome, the _impressarii_ have been unfortunate in their composers--when the _primo tenore_ of the Argentina has left his voice on the road--when the _primo uomo da donna_ in the Teatro Valle is down with the influenza--in short, when the chief pleasures to which the Romans have been looking forward have proved disappointments, and Giovedi Gra.s.so has been shorn, at one fell swoop, of all the hoped-for flowers which were expected to come at that time into blossom. Immediately alter a melancholy carnival of this description (in fact, the fasts were scarcely over) a certain Nicolo Musso opened a theatre outside the Porto del Popolo, limiting himself to announcing the performance of minor, improvised _buffonades_. His advertis.e.m.e.nt was couched in a clever and witty style of wording, and from it the Romans formed in advance a favourable opinion of Musso's undertaking, and would have done so even had they not, in the unsatisfied state of their dramatic appet.i.tes, been eager to s.n.a.t.c.h at anything of the kind that was offered to them. The arrangements of the theatre--or rather of the little booth--could not be said to give evidence of any very flouris.h.i.+ng state of finances on the manager's part. There was no orchestra; there were no boxes. There was a sort of gallery at the back of the audience part of the house, adorned with the arms of the Colonnas--a mark that the Conte Colonna had taken Murso and his theatre under his special protection. The stage was a raised platform covered with carpets, and surrounded with gay-coloured paper-hangings which had to serve for forests, interiors, or streets, according to the requirements of the drama. As, moreover, the audience had to be content with hard, uncomfortable wooden benches to sit upon, it is not matter for wonder that the first set of spectators expressed themselves pretty strongly on the subject of the audacity of Signor Musso in giving the name of a theatre to this boarded booth. But scarcely had the two first actors who appeared spoken a few words, when the audience became attentive. As the piece went on, the attention became applause, the applause astonishment, and the astonishment enthusiasm, which expressed itself in the most prolonged and stormy laughter, hand-clapping, and cries of bravo!

And, in truth, nothing more perfect could have been seen than those improvised representations of Nicolo Musso's which sparkled with wit, fun, and _esprit_, castigating the follies of the day with unsparing lash. The performers all rendered their parts with incomparable distinctiveness of character, but the "Pasquarello" more particularly carried the house away with him bodily, by his inimitable play of gesture, and a talent for imitating well-known personages, in voice, walk, and manner, by his inexhaustible drollery, and the extraordinary originality of the ideas which struck him. This actor, who called himself Signor Formica, seemed to be inspired by a very remarkable and unusual spirit; often, in his tone and manner, there would be a something so strange that the audience, while in the middle of a burst of the heartiest laughter, would suddenly feel a species of cold s.h.i.+ver. Almost on a par with him, and a worthy compeer, was the "Dr.

Graziano" of the troupe, who had a play of feature, a voice, a power of saying the most delightful things in, apparently, the most foolish manner, to which nothing in the world could be likened. This "Doctor Graziano" was an old Bolognese, of the name of Maria Aglia. As a matter of course, all the fas.h.i.+onable world of Rome soon came thronging to the little theatre outside the Porto del Popolo. The name of Formica was on everybody's lips; and in the streets as in the theatre, all voices were crying, with the utmost enthusiasm, "Oh, Formica! Formica benedetto!

Oh, Formicisimo!" He was looked upon as a supernatural being; and many an old woman, ashake with laughter in the theatre, would (if anybody ventured to criticise Formica's action in the slightest degree) turn grave, and say, with the utmost seriousness and solemnity--

"Scherza coi fanti e lascia star santi."

This was because, out of the theatre, Formica was an unfathomable mystery. No one ever saw him anywhere, and every attempt to come upon his traces was vain. Nothing as to where he lived could be got out of Musso.

Such was the theatre to which Marianna wished to go.

"Let us fly straight at our enemies' throats," Salvator said; "the walk home from the theatre to the town offers us a most admirable opportunity."

He then communicated a plan to Antonio, which seemed very risky and daring, but which the latter adopted with delight, thinking it would enable him to rescue his Marianna from the abominable Capuzzi; moreover, it pleased him well that Salvator made one great feature of it the punis.h.i.+ng of the Pyramid Doctor.