Lucrezia Floriani, page 22
But just as one breaks one’s hands and head while running eagerly towards a door which one intends to go through but which turns out to be locked, so was Lucrezia halted and as if felled by the sight of the cold, troubled face of her lover.
He greeted her with the respect which had become nothing more than a formality, but his look seemed to say: ‘Woman, what is there in common between you and me?’
Never before had she seen him so sad; and because, as happens with all unyielding natures, sadness assumes the appearance of disdain, she was terrified by the expression on his face. She looked around her as if to ask external objects for the cause of this fatal change. She saw Vandoni in the distance. Her thoughts were so remote from him that she failed to recognise him, but Stella came running up and pointed him out to her. “Signor Vandoni is going away, he didn’t want me to call you, he says he hasn’t the time to stop. Most likely he will come back. He asked how you were. He kissed Salvator and he cried. He seemed to be very sad. And he chatted with the prince who’ll tell you all about it. I don’t know any more.”
And the child went back to play with her brother.
Lucrezia looked alternately at the prince and Vandoni. The actor had turned round and he saw her, but he pretended to be still absorbed by the sight of his son. The prince had turned away with a kind of disgust at the idea that Lucrezia would detain her former lover and possibly introduce him.
She fully understood what was happening and was no longer surprised at Karol’s agony. But she knew or at least she thought that with a single word she could bring that suffering to an end, and Vandoni would doubtless depart humiliated and broken. She thought she could see him moving away discreetly, without having had the time to recognise and caress his son. She imagined that he was suffering dreadfully, whereas at that particular moment he was not really suffering at all. He certainly had paternal feelings and when he was alone and thought of little Salvator he wept sincerely. But in the presence of his rival and his faithless mistress he had a role to sustain and as always happens with actors on the stage, reality disappears before the emotion of the fictitious world.
Madame Floriani was too genuine, too affectionate and too warm-hearted to realise what he was experiencing at that moment. All she felt was an immense compassion, and a horror of imposing unhappiness and shame on a man who had loved her greatly and whom she too had striven to love. She understood that what she was about to do would annoy Karol very much, but she told herself that after reflection not only would he forgive her, but he would even approve of her gesture. The heart argues quickly and when it is urged on by conscience it overcomes all repugnance and all self-interest. She ran towards the fence, called Vandoni in a calm tone and when he had turned round so as to come to her she went forward a few steps, held out her hand and kissed him cordially.
Vandoni was certainly touched by so generous and bold an impulse. He had hoped to extract a little vengeance from Lucrezia’s confusion in the presence of her latest lover. He had not expected her to call him back; that is why he had been very happy to remain there as long as possible to prolong his rival’s suffering. But the heart of Lucrezia was above such pettiness and one cannot embarrass a deeply sincere and courageous woman.
Vandoni forgot his role and covered his faithless one’s hands with kisses and tears. He was no longer play-acting, he was defeated.
“I will not allow you to leave us thus,” said Lucrezia, calm and affectionate, yet firm. “I don’t know where you come from, but tired or no, you must rest here and see Salvator whenever you please. We shall talk about him together and we shall leave one another this time more calmly and better friends than before. You do want that, don’t you, my friend? We used to be like brother and sister. Now is the time to become so again.”
“But what about Prince de Roswald?” said Vandoni, lowering his voice.
“Do you think he will be jealous? Don’t be fatuous, Vandoni! He will not be. And you will see that he has not heard anyone here speak ill of you and you have a right to his regard and esteem.”
“In his place I would never tolerate a former lover to … “
“Apparently he is better than you,” she interrupted him. “He is more trusting and more generous than you were with regard to me. Come, I want to present you to him.”
“There is no need,” said Vandoni, who was feeling weak and emotional and could not make up his mind to act naturally towards his rival. “I have already introduced myself to the prince. He was very polite. But do you really insist that I stay? It is madness.”
Lucrezia’s only reply was to point to little Salvator. He yielded, partly from affection, partly from love of mischief.
24.
If there are hardly any men who can resign themselves to confronting the one who has replaced them in their mistress’ heart without wishing to revenge themselves just a little, there are hardly any women who would venture to bring these two men together without a little anxiety.
Yet Lucrezia did not experience the inner embarrassment which accompanies such encounters. Why should she have experienced it when throughout the whole of her life she had acted honestly and with the utmost candour? This was not a case of employing audacity or ingenuity in order to manoeuvre two rivals equally deceived. Here it was a matter of a lover who was acknowledged in the present and a lover acknowledged in the past If love could be just a little philosophical the successful lover would be full of courtesy and magnanimity towards the forsaken lover, but love is not philosophical. It takes fright at a memory and here it argues very badly: for in matters of love nothing is less tempting than a return to the past, nothing is less dangerous than the sight of a being whom one has left freely and through waning passion.
Unfortunately no one was less acquainted with the human heart than Prince Karol. His own was the only one of its kind and every time he wished to compare the emotions of others with his own he was certain to make a mistake. He tried to imagine his feelings if Princess Lucie happened to appear to him, and he felt sure that if she did appear, like Banquo’s ghost, at Lucrezia’s table he would fall, struck down not so much with fear as with remorse and regret From there he went on to suppose that Lucrezia could not see Vandoni again in the flesh without also experiencing the violent regret of having destroyed him and remorse at belonging to another before his very eyes.
Now there never was a supposition which could have been more unjust and more absurd than this one. Again Lucrezia saw all the little failings, all the harmless absurdities of Vandoni with eyes which she no longer scrupled to keep wide open. She compared this being of whom she had never been greatly enraptured with the one who gave her endless rapture. Moreover the comparison was so much in the prince’s favour that if he had been able to read into the soul of his mistress he would have clearly seen that the presence of Vandoni increased Lucrezia’s passion for himself.
He could not appreciate the triumph of his position. His jealous anxiety made him too modest on this score whilst on the other hand the indifference with which he saw fit to treat Vandoni made him so haughty that he felt humiliated to succeed such a man. He could not conceal his resentment, his anxiety and his mortal pain. While Vandoni was eating at Lucrezia’s side he was unable to sit still. So as not to see or hear him he went out Then he came in again to prevent him from initiating any move which might displease him. He did nothing but go back and forth, tormented by a terrible fever, avoiding the tender and reassuring glances of Lucrezia and disdaining the advances of poor Vandoni who, thanks to Karol, felt himself entrusted with the role of the magnanimous hero.
If, as I believe, it is pride which makes us jealous, it must be admitted that it is a very blundering and very inconsequential pride. Vandoni had originally promised himself that he would cause his rival a little anxiety by adopting an air of confidence and familiarity with Lucrezia. But he had not succeeded. In the tranquil goodness of Lucrezia there was something so frank and so dignified that all the art of the actor failed before this absence of art. But the prince made it so much a point to encourage Vandoni’s longing to be impertinent that the latter found himself avenged without making the slightest effort He was in a position to rejoice to see the suffering he was causing, and when supper was over he said to Lucrezia as his eyes followed Karol who was going out for the tenth time: “You were boasting, fair lady, you were boasting of your charming prince when you told me that he was better than I, that he was not jealous of the past and that it would not hurt him when he saw me here. On the contrary he is suffering, he is suffering too much for me to remain any longer. Farewell then! I depart with the sad truth that there are no sublime lovers and that the troubles you thought you were fleeing on leaving me will return with another. You have done nothing more than put a handsome dark face in the place of a fair face which was not bad looking. Change is always a pleasure to women! But admit now that when I was jealous of you I was not a monster, for here you see your new god, your idol, your angel, tortured by the same demon as gnawed my heart”
“Vandoni,” replied Lucrezia, “I do not know whether the prince is jealous of you. I hope you are wrong, but as I don’t wish you to accuse me of pretending with you, let us assume that it is so. What do you wish to prove? That I was wrong to leave you? Have I been making a speech for the defence to prove that I was right? No, I believe the wrong is always on the side of the one who wishes to escape from suffering. I committed this wrong. Have you not forgiven me yet?”
“Ah, who could harbour resentment against you?” said Vandoni, kissing her hand with sincere emotion. “I still love you, I would always be ready to devote my life to you if you wished to return to me, even if you did not love me any more than in the past … For I have no illusions: your love for me was nothing more than friendship.”
“At least I have never deceived you on that point and I did my utmost not to be too ungrateful. Perhaps our affection was too old, we felt too much like brother and sister to be lovers.”
“Speak for yourself; cruel one! I for my part…”
“You have a noble heart and if you really feel certain that you are making the prince suffer you must take your leave. But not for all the world would I care to renounce your friendship and I hope to find it there still, later, when the fires of youthful passion will have given place in the prince to the calm of a peaceful affection. Mine for you, Vandoni, is based on esteem; it is proof against time and absence. Between us there exists an indissoluble bond; my affection for your son is your guarantee of the feeling I retain for you.”
“My son! Ah yes, let us speak of my son,” cried Vandoni who had suddenly grown serious again. “Well, Lucrezia, are you pleased with me? Did I ever make it clear to your other children that that one belonged to me? Ah, what a strange position you have made for me! Never to hear the word father uttered by the lips of my son!”
“Vandoni, your son can hardly speak and as yet only knows my name and his brother’s. Now, if you are calm, if you have formed an important decision, speak! By what name and in what principles do you wish me to rear him?”
“Ah, Lucrezia, you know my weakness for you, my blind devotion, or should I say my cowardly submissiveness? If you are not to get married let it be as you wish. Let my son bear your name and let me be permitted merely to see him and be his best friend, after you. But if you are to become Princess de Roswald I insist that my son be restored to me. I would rather see him share my vagabond life and my precarious fate than abandon my authority and duties to a stranger.”
“My friend,” said Lucrezia, “there is more pride than tenderness in this decision and I shall employ only one argument to oppose it. Supposing I get married tomorrow, Salvator will still be a child for eight or ten years at least and the attentions of a woman are necessary to him. To what woman will you entrust him then? Have you a sister or a mother? No! You will only be able to entrust him to a mistress or a servant. Do you think he will be as well looked after, as well brought up and as happy as with me? Will you be able to sleep easily when, obliged to attend rehearsals all day and performances in the evening you’ll leave this poor child to the mercy of an unreliable maid-servant or a hateful stepmother?”
“Of course not,” said Vandoni, sighing. “You are right. Because you are rich, independent and famous you have all rights, all powers – even that of driving away the father and keeping the child.”
“Vandoni, you are hurting me,” exclaimed Lucrezia. “Don’t speak to me in that way! Do you want me, here and now, to ensure to our child part of my fortune of which you will have the control and direction? Do you wish to supervise his education, be consulted over all its details and settle his future? I gladly consent, provided you leave him with me and you instruct me to be the executor of your wishes. I am sure that we shall agree on all points in the interest of a being who is dearer to us than life.”
“No, no. No charity!” cried Vandoni. “I am no coward and I shall die in the poorhouse before accepting alms from you disguised by some other name or form. Keep the child. Keep him completely. I know full well that you will be the only one he will know and love. In vain would I come one day to claim him and tell him that he is mine and must follow me. He will never part willingly from a mother such as you! Come, the die is cast I see that you are to be a princess.”
“Nothing has been decided on that subject, my friend. I swear it and what is more, I swear it by what is most sacred, your honour and your son, that if you make it a condition of my marriage that I must part from this child, I shall never get married.”
“So you are still the same, oh strange and admirable woman!” cried Vandoni, transported by her words. “You still prefer your children to glory, riches – and even love.”
“Riches and glory, certainly,” she replied with a calm smile. “As for love, I dare not answer you at this moment; but what is certain is that I know my duty is to sacrifice everything, even love, to these children of love. The most infatuated, the most faithful of lovers can console himself, but children can never find another mother.”
“Well, I leave reassured,” said Vandoni, shaking her hand, “and I exact only one promise from you. Swear to me that you will not marry the prince, who is so charming but so jealous, before a year from now. I cannot persuade myself that he is better than I and that he will always see with a calm eye these pledges of your former loves. I know your clearsightedness, your steadfastness and the promptness of your sacrifices when you feel that the fate of your children is in jeopardy. I am well aware why you were unable to endure me for long. It is because no matter what I did I loathed the resemblance between your Beatrice and the wretched Tealdo Soavi. Well, a year hence Prince de Roswald will loathe Salvator, if he doesn’t do so already. Don’t act suddenly or on impulse, I beg you, my dear Lucrezia, and then you will always remain free. For now that I am sensible and personally not involved in the matter I realise one thing fully, and that is that absolute freedom is the only state that suits you and the tender mother of four love children must not entrust their fate to the virtue of a husband, however reliable it may seem.”
“I believe that you are right,” said Lucrezia, “and it is with great pleasure that I recognise the voice of my friend of the past Have no fear, dear brother! Your old comrade, your faithful sister, will never, in a moment of ecstatic passion, endanger the future of the children she adores.”
“Farewell then,” said Vandoni and clasped her to his heart with deep, sincere tenderness. “Farewell to you, being that I still love most of all! Perhaps I shall not see you again so soon. I would disturb your love and I confess that I am not strong enough to look on without suffering. If in the midst of your sublime and mad passion you find an interval for repose and freedom, summon me to you for one moment I shall kneel at your feet, docile and submissive, happy to see you and to kiss my son, until you tell me as you have done to-day ‘Begone, I am in love and it is with another.’ “
If Vandoni had left immediately after this noble effusion he would have been what God had made him, a kind, warmhearted person. If instead of chasing the world of artifical emotions imposed upon him by his work he could have paused a while and retained this honest disposition he would have reappeared transformed on the stage, and the public would possibly have been greatly surprised to have an excellent artist to applaud instead of being obliged to smile patiently at the cold and correct declamations of yet another adequate actor.
But as one cannot avoid one’s fate and as Karol suddenly reappeared, Vandoni equally suddenly returned to his old affectation. He wished to make him a farewell speech in which he would contrive to insinuate delicately the ideas and feelings under whose sway he had momentarily been. He failed completely, he could only utter tasteless, incoherent phrases and moving from sternness to tenderness, from humour to solemnity, he was in turn bombastic and trivial, pedantic and ridiculous.
It is true that the haughty and impatient attitude of the prince, his laconic replies and his ironic manner were calculated to deflate an actor even more able than Vandoni. The latter soon saw that his attempt to create an effect had misfired, so, falling back on the artificial aplomb of the actor who has been hissed off the stage, he turned to Lucrezia and losing something of his super-imposed exaggerated refinement said: “Upon my word, I believe that I am floundering and I will do well to go no further if I do not wish to sink completely and make you blush for your poor comrade. No matter, you will speak for me when I have gone and you will say that your friend is a good fellow who doesn’t want to harm anybody.” What an anticlimax!
With his usual kindness Salvator Albani who had spent the last two hours trying to distract Karol, hastened to erase all these miseries by being polite, good-humoured and friendly. Saying that he was delighted to have made his acquaintance he took Vandoni by the arm and told him that he would go and see him perform if they happened to be in any town in Italy at the same time, and finally, that he would keep him company by walking with him as far as Iseo where Vandoni had left his cab.
