The Prince of India; Or, Why Constantinople Fell Volume Ii Part 64
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"Your Majesty, no servant had ever a more considerate and loving master."
An oppressive silence followed. They were both thinking the same thought, and it was too sad for speech.
"The duty Your Majesty charged me with this morning "--thus Phranza upon recovery of his composure--"I attended to."
"And you found it?"
"Even as Your Majesty had warning. The Hegumens of the Brotherhoods"--
"All of them, O Phranza?"
"All of them, Your Majesty--a.s.sembled in a cloister of the Pantocrator."
"Gennadius again!"
The Emperor's hands closed, and there was an impatient twitching of his lips.
"Though why should I be astonished? Hark, my friend! I will tell thee what I have as yet spoken to no man else. Thou knowest Kalil the Vizier has been these many years my tributary, and that he hath done me many kindly acts, not always in his master's interest. The night of the day our Christian s.h.i.+ps beat the Turks the Grand Vizier sent me an account of a stormy scene in Mahommed's tent, and advised me to beware of Gennadius. Ah, I had fancied myself prepared to drink the cup Heaven hath in store for me, lees and all, without a murmur, but men will be men until their second birth. It is nature! ... Oh, my Phranza, what thinkest thou the false monk is carrying under his hood?"
"Some egg of treason, I doubt not."
"Having driven His Serenity, the pious and venerable Gregory, into exile, he aspires to succeed him."
"The hypocrite!--the impostor!--the perjured!--He, Patriarch!" cried Phranza, with upraised eyes.
"And from whose hands thinkest thou he dreams of deriving the honor?"
"Not Your Majesty's."
The Emperor smiled faintly. "No--he regards Mahommed the Sultan a better patron, if not a better Christian."
"Forbid it Heaven!" and Phranza crossed himself repeatedly.
"Nay, good friend, hear his scheme, then thou mayst call the forbidding powers with undeniable reason....He undertook--so Kalil privily declared--if Mahommed would invest him with the Patriarchate, to deliver Constantinople to him."
"By what means? He has no gate in keeping--he is not even a soldier."
"My poor Phranza! Hast thou yet to learn that perfidy is not a trait of any cla.s.s? This gowned traitor hath a key to all the gates. Hear him--I will ply the superst.i.tion of the Greeks, and draw them from the walls with a prophecy."
Phranza was able to cry out: "Oh! that so brave a prince, so good a master should be at the mercy of--of such a"--
"With all thy learning, I see thou lackest a word. Let it pa.s.s, let it pa.s.s--I understand thee....But what further hast thou from the meeting?"
Phranza caught the hand again, and laid his forehead upon it while he replied: "To-night the Brotherhoods are to go out, and renew the story of the angel, and the man at the foot of the column of Constantine." The calmness of the Emperor was wonderful. He gazed at the Turks through the window, and, after reflection, said tranquilly:
"I would have saved it--this old empire of our fathers; but my utmost now is to die for it--ay, as if I were blind to its unworthiness. G.o.d's will be done, not mine!"
"Talk not of dying--O beloved Lord and master, talk not so! It is not too late for composition. Give me your terms, and I will go with them to"--
"Nay, friend, I have done better--I have made peace with myself.... I shall be no man's slave. There is nothing more for me--nothing except an honorable death. How sweet a grace it is that we can put so much glory in dying! A day of Greek regeneration may come--then there may be some to do me honor--some to find worthy lessons in my life--perchance another Emperor of Byzantium to remember how the last of the Palaeologae accepted the will of G.o.d revealed to him in treachery and treason....
But there is one at the door knocking as he were in haste. Let him enter."
An officer of the guard was admitted.
"Your Majesty," he said, after salutation, "the Captain Justiniani, and the Genoese, his friends, are preparing to abandon the gates."
Constantine seized his sword, and arose.
"Tell me about it," he said, simply.
"Justiniani has the new ditch at St. Romain nearly completed, and wanting some cannon, he made request for them of the High Admiral, who refused, saying, 'The foreign cowards must take care of themselves.'"
"Ride, sir, to the n.o.ble Captain, and tell him I am at thy heels."
"Is the Duke mad?" Constantine continued, the messenger having departed.
"What can he want? He is rich, and hath a family--boys verging on manhood, and of excellent promise. Ah, my dear friend in need, what canst thou see of gain for him from Mahommed?"
"Life, your Majesty--life, and greater riches."
"How? I did not suppose thou thoughtest so ill of men."
"Of some--of some--not all." Then Phranza raised his head, and asked, bitterly: "If five galleys won the harbor, every Moslem sail opposing, why could not twelve or more do better? Does not Mahommed draw his supplies by sea?"
The Emperor looked out of the window again, but not at the Turks.
"Lord Phranza," he said, presently, "thou mayst survive to-morrow's calamity; if so, being as thou art skilful with the pen, write of me in thy day of leisure two things; first, I dared not break with Duke Notaras while Mahommed was striving for my gates--he could and would have seized my throne--the Church, the Brotherhoods, and the people are with him--I am an _azymite._ Say of me next that I have always held the decree of union proclaimed by the Council of Florence binding upon Greek conscience, and had I lived, G.o.d helping me roll back this flood of Islam, it should have been enforced.... Hither--look hither, Lord Phranza"--he pointed out of the window--"and thou wilt see an argument of as many divisions as there are infidels beleaguering us why the Church of Christ should have one head; and as to whether the head should be Patriarch or Bishop, is it not enough that we are peris.h.i.+ng for want of Western swords?"--He would have fallen into silence again, but roused himself: "So much for the place I would have in the world's memory....
But to the present affair. Reparation is due Justiniani and his a.s.sociates. Do thou prepare a repast in the great dining hall. Our resources are so reduced I may not speak of it as a banquet; but as thou lovest me do thy best with what we have. For my part, I will ride and summon every n.o.ble Greek in arms for Church and State, and the foreign captains. In such cheer, perhaps, we can heal the wounds inflicted by Notaras. We can at least make ready to die with grace."
He went out, and taking horse, rode at speed to the Gate St. Romain, and succeeded in soothing the offended Genoese.
At ten o'clock the banquet was held. The chroniclers say of it that there were speeches, embraces, and a fresh resolution to fight, and endure the worst or conquer. And they chose a battle-cry--_Christ and Holy Church._ At separating, the Emperor, with infinite tenderness, but never more knightly, prayed forgiveness of any he might have wronged or affronted; and the guests came one by one to bid him adieu, and he commended them to G.o.d, and the grat.i.tude of Christians in the ages to come, and his hands were drenched with their tears.
From the Very High Residence he visited the gates, and was partially successful in arresting the desertions actually in progress.
Finally, all other duties done, his mind turning once more to G.o.d, he rode to Sancta Sophia, heard ma.s.s, partook of the Communion, and received absolution according to Latin rite; after which the morrow could hold no surprise for him. And he found comfort repeating his own word: How sweet a grace it is that we can put so much glory in dying.
CHAPTER XI
COUNT CORTI IN DILEMMA
From the repast at Blacherne--festive it was in no sense--Count Corti escorted the Emperor to the door of Sancta Sophia; whence, by permission, and taking with him his nine Berbers, he rode slowly to the residence of the Princess Irene. Slowly, we say, for nowhere in the pent area of Byzantium was there a soul more oppressed.
If he looked up, it was to fancy all the fortunate planets seated in their Houses helping Mahommed's star to a fullest flood of splendor; if he looked down, it was to see the wager--and his soul cried out, Lost!
Lost! Though one be rich, or great, or superior in his calling, wherein is the profit of it if he have lost his love?
The Prince of India; Or, Why Constantinople Fell Volume Ii Part 64
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