Barbarossa; An Historical Novel Of The XII Century Part 17
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"You hate and fear me, do you!--Ah well! there's no love lost between us," he growled, with a still fiercer expression in his eyes.
The loud blast of the trumpets resounded, and the herald commanded silence. Thousands awaited with trembling anxiety. The man of the scarlet tabard made another sign; but still the dull murmur went on unceasingly; he raised his truncheon, and when, after many efforts, silence had been enforced, he proclaimed, in a clear and distinct voice, the wishes of the Emperor.
"In the name of our sovereign liege, listen to the punishments to be enforced against all evil-doers. All fighting in the camp is strictly forbidden. Should the offender be a knight, his arms will be taken from him, and he will be expelled from the army. If he is a varlet, he will be flogged, his head shaved, and his shoulder marked with a red-hot iron, unless his master redeems him by the payment of fifty pennies."
The herald paused to give his hearers time for reflection. The first article had produced a bad effect upon the Italians, who were accustomed to great license in respect to their personal quarrels, and on all sides black and angry glances were exchanged.
"Flogged, shaved, and marked with a hot iron, for that trifle!" said the crowd. "It is too severe!"
"Do you hear that, Migleo?" said a voice. "He values us at fifty pennies a piece--it's absurd!"
The herald again commanded silence.
"If any one wounds a soldier, he shall lose his hand; whoever kills one shall be decapitated!"
"I say, Migleo, what would you look like, with a shaved head?"
"Don't you think, Robbio, that in the course of a fortnight, the most of us will have neither heads nor hands? For my part, it is as impossible for me to keep my hands off a Pavian, as it is to meet a chicken without wringing its neck?"
"And I can't look at a Novara man, without wanting to spit in his face," said a Pavian, who stood by; and it was with difficulty the two were kept from fighting, even under the eyes of Hesso himself.
"Silence, fools!" said Robbio; "do you want to get into the executioner's clutches, already?"
"For the first theft, a varlet shall be flogged, shaved, and marked with the iron; for the second, he shall be hanged!" added the herald.
"There is one omission in the law about theft," said a voice. "It is forbidden to the varlets to rob, but there is nothing said about the masters. What would happen if the offender were a count, a duke, or a king?"
"Silence," cried another voice, whose piercing tone bore a great resemblance to that of the jester Lanzo. "Don't you know that the n.o.bles never steal? they merely indulge their ill.u.s.trious desires!"
"Whoever shall hold any communication with the Cardinal Roland, falsely styling himself Pope Alexander III., shall be put under the ban of the Emperor; it is permitted to kill him wherever found!"
"Do you hear that? to pillage is not to steal; the Emperor can permit anything."
"Alexander is the true Pope; Victor is the anti-Pope; is that not so, comrades?"
"Certainly. Long live Alexander!"
"Whoever shall obtain supplies for the Milanese, shall lose his hand; the informer shall be rewarded."
This last article, although the most barbarous, met with general approval among the Italians, who only found fault with the punishment as being too mild. They forgot the iron yoke under which Frederic kept them, to remember only their hatred for their detested rival Milan.
"Long live the Emperor! Down with Milan! Death and destruction to the Milanese!"
The trumpets again sounded, and while the soldiers gave free vent to the expression of their hatred, the herald and his escort left the ground.
Rechberg had listened to the proclamation, and would have pursued his journey, but the dense crowd forced him to remain and hear the imprecations lavished upon the Emperor, as soon as Hesso was out of sight.
"Laugh on!" thought the young man. "You may laugh as much as you please, but you will not be able to violate those orders with impunity."
At this moment, two a.s.ses' ears ornamented with bells, approached the Count. Lanzo, with a good deal of difficulty, had elbowed his way through the crowd, and had gained a neighboring spur-post, where he climbed up, and then sprang, with the agility of a monkey, upon the Count's stirrup; a moment after, he was behind his saddle. The crowd laughed and applauded the jester's activity, and Rechberg allowed him to retain his seat, for he saw nothing impertinent in the proceeding of the fool, whose loyalty he esteemed, and whose jests would serve to amuse him.
"Whence come you, Lanzo?"
"From the fulfilment of my duty, n.o.ble Count."
"Yes; but how?"
"How? I have only just discovered it; I had no positive end in view, until now. But I perceive, my lord, that your mission is of vast importance. The Emperor, the Pope, and the kings, are very insignificant personages compared with you."
"And why so, Lanzo?"
"Because you have the court-fool behind you!"
"But I cannot see in that an omen of greatness."
"Oh, I will explain, if you will only try to understand me!" said the jester. "I will begin with the Pope, that is, providing Victor be really the Pope,--a matter, about which some quite sensible people begin to doubt. For the last two years, Barbarossa has been holding council upon council, and yet all of them together have not succeeded in proving that Victor is the Pope. This establishes clearly, either that Victor is a fool, or else that he is a puppet of the Emperor, since he is so ready to accept what Alexander refuses. If he had any brains, he would know that an honest monk is better that what he is."
"You have a bad tongue, Lanzo."
"Possibly! But you will see that it tells the truth. Then we have the king of England and the king of France. They are fools too. I made the reflection when I saw their amba.s.sadors kneel before the Emperor. If they had brains, they would guess that Frederic means to catch them all, one after the other, in his nets."
"You are a statesman of wonderful foresight, Lanzo!"
"Of course I am; my ears show that;--and then, the Emperor is as mad as the others.--But, I forgot.--Ah! after all I cannot see that there is much harm in having a madman for one's G.o.dfather! If Frederic were wise, he would not try to conquer the world. He is getting ready to swallow Milan, the head of Italy. After the head, the rest will come easily enough; but it is a food not easily digested. The earth belongs to G.o.d, and not to the Emperor, and one of these days Frederic's madness will draw upon himself the wrath of an avenging G.o.d."
"Well spoken, Lanzo! you ought to be a member of the Emperor's Council."
"G.o.d preserve me from it! my honesty would be exposed to too sore temptations.--But I see in the steel of your helmet a little sprite which mocks at me. My argument has a weak point, then?--Tell me, where did you get that splendid gold chain?"
"Why do you ask me?"
"Answer me first."
"From the knight Bonello,--him whose cause you espoused so warmly."
"Tell me, my lord, how did it happen that you became so deeply interested in this traitor's misfortunes? All the camp was astonished at the boldness with which you braved the Emperor's displeasure. No one but you would have risked his sovereign's anger to save a traitor's life. Was it craft on your part, or wisdom?"
"How dare you ask such questions? Is it not our duty to aid all who are unfortunate?"
"Well answered! But the sprite in your helmet is mocking at me again, I fear you have not told me all the truth. When you pleaded Bonello's cause, had you no other motive than pity?"
"You are right."
"Ah! I have a little intelligence sometimes!--Bonello has a daughter!--Some men of sense saw her without being dazzled--that is, another species of madness! I would ask some more questions, if I were not afraid that your steel scabbard might make an intimate acquaintance with my back."
"Still, you are not going to stop there?"
"Certainly not, if I may go on!"
Barbarossa; An Historical Novel Of The XII Century Part 17
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Barbarossa; An Historical Novel Of The XII Century Part 17 summary
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