Lucrezia Floriani, page 4
Salvator was inclined to contradict his friend, but he was afraid of seeing him grow heated over such a subject and summoning a feverish strength for the ensuing discussion which he dreaded more for him than the languor of fatigue. He contented himself with asking him if he was absolutely certain never to love another woman.
“As God Himself could not possibly create another being as perfect as the one He, in His infinite mercy, had intended for me, He will not permit me to stray so far as to attempt to love a second time.”
“Life is long, however,” said Salvator in a tone of involuntary doubt, “and that kind of oath cannot be made at the age of twenty-four.”
“One isn’t always young at the age of twenty-four,” replied Karol, then he sighed and sank into a thoughtful silence. Salvator saw that he had aroused the idea of premature death which nourished his friend like a kind of poison. He pretended not to read his mind on that point, and tried to distract him by pointing out the pretty valley which surrounded the lake.
There is nothing imposing about the aspect of the small lake of Iseo, and its approaches are as gentle and cool as an eclogue of Virgil. Between the mountains which form its horizon and the slow, lazy ripples which the breeze traces on its banks there is a zone of lush fields literally spangled with the most beautiful meadow-flowers which Lombardy produces. Carpets of saffron of the purest pink strew its shores and even on stormy days, no waves roar in anger. Light rustic boats glide over its calm waters where the peach and almond shed their petals.
At the moment when the two young travellers alighted from their carriage, several boats were untying their mooring ropes; and the inhabitants of the lakeside parishes whom their mounts and carts had brought home from the festival dashed forward, laughing and singing, on to the small boats which were to make a tour of the lake and drop each group at its own home. Carts laden with children and noisy girls were pushed on to the bigger boats; young couples leaped into the smaller ones and challenged each other to a race. In accordance with local custom, to prevent the sweating, steaming horses from catching a chill during the crossing, they were plunged beforehand into the icy water near the shore, and these brave animals seemed to derive great pleasure from their immersion.
Karol sat down on a tree-stump by the water’s edge to contemplate not the lively picturesque scene, but the vague pale blue horizon of the Alps. Salvator had entered the locanda to choose their rooms.
But he soon returned with a vexed look on his face. The hostelry was abominable, hot, filthy, over-crowded with animals and quarrelling drunkards. There was no possibility of resting there after the fatigues of a day’s travel.
Although a bad night distressed him more than it would do anyone else, the prince usually accepted that kind of annoyance with stoic unconcern. This time, however, he said to his friend with an air of unusual anxiety: “I had a presentiment that we would do better not to come and spend the night here.”
“A presentiment in connection with an inferior inn?” cried Salvator, slightly irritated with himself and therefore with his companion, because of the failure of his idea. “Upon my word, when it is a matter of avoiding the vermin of a filthy locanda and the stench of an unsightly kitchen, I confess that I have none of these subtle perceptions and mysterious forebodings.”
“Don’t mock me, Salvator,” the prince resumed in a gentle tone. “It is not a question of that kind of triviality and you know full well that I bow to the inevitable more readily than you.”
“Ah! Perhaps it is because of you that I do not accept the inevitable.”
“I know, my good Salvator; don’t distress yourself; let us leave.”
“What? Leave? We are hungry and at least there are some magnificent trout leaping in the frying pan. I don’t allow myself to be discouraged so quickly; let us sup first, let them serve us out there, in the open air under the carob trees. And then I shall scour the entire village and I am sure I shall find a house a little cleaner than the inn, at least a room for you, even if it is at the local doctor’s or lawyer’s. Surely there is a priest living here.”
“My friend, you refuse to understand me; you concern yourself with childish things….You know that I do not indulge in idle fancies, don’t you? Well, just this once forgive me if I have a strange whim. I feel ill at ease here; the air makes me apprehensive, the lake is too dazzling. Perhaps some poisonous plant grows here which is fatal to me….Let us go and spend the night elsewhere. I have a grave foreboding that I ought not to have come here. When the horses forsook the road to Venice and turned left it seemed to me as if they were resisting; didn’t you notice it? And so, do not think that I have been struck by madness and do not look at me in that frightened manner. I am calm, I am resigned, if you wish, to fresh misfortunes … but to what purpose should we brave them when there is still time to flee them?”
Salvator Albani was indeed frightened at the serious tone of conviction with which Karol had uttered these strange words. As he thought him weaker than he actually was, he imagined that he was about to fall seriously ill and that a secret uneasiness was warning him of it. But he did not think that the place entered into it at all, when nature, the human race, the sky, vegetation – everything around him was so luxuriant. However, he did not wish to come into conflict with his caprice, but he did wonder whether an additional journey, taken when he had had no food and moreover after a long day’s travel, would not precipitate the illness.
The prince saw his hesitation and remembered what the kind-hearted Salvator had already forgotten, namely, that he was starving. Whereupon sacrificing his extreme repugnance and silencing his imagination, he asserted that he was hungry himself, and that before leaving Iseo, they must at least have supper.
This compromise reassured Salvator somewhat “If he is hungry,” he thought, “he cannot be under the threat of imminent illness and possibly the feeling of distress which seized him is the result of an excessive hunger of which he was unaware, a kind of moral and physical faintness. Let us eat, then we shall see.”
The supper was better than the inn had seemed to promise and it was served in the innkeeper’s garden, in a cool arbour which somewhat obscured the brilliance of the lake and where Karol really felt more calm. Thanks to the mobility of his temperament and mood, he enjoyed his meal and forgot the inexplicable dread which had overcome him only a few moments earlier.
While their host was serving them with coffee, Salvator questioned him about the inhabitants of the town, and was chagrined to find that he did not know a single one of them, and that there was hardly any method of going to ask for hospitality in a house which was cleaner and quieter than the locanda. “Ah,” said he, sighing, “I once had a very good friend who came from these regions and who had spoken to me about them so much that perhaps it influenced me unwittingly when the whim occurred to me to pass the night here. But I see quite clearly that my poor Floriani had retained a memory of it utterly devoid of reality. It is always so with our childhood memories.”
“Doubtless,” said the landlord who had been listening to Salvator’s words, “Your Excellency is speaking of the famous Floriani, the one who, born as a poor peasant girl, became rich and famous throughout Italy.”
“Indeed I am,” cried Salvator. “Is it possible that you knew her in the old days here? – for to my knowledge she never returned to her native village since she left it at an early age.”
“Excuse me, Your Lordship, she came back about a year ago and she is here at the present moment Her family have forgiven everything and they live on the best of terms together now. Look, over there, on the far side of the lake! You can see the cottage where she was reared from here, and the pretty villa which she bought alongside it With the park and the meadows they both make a single property. Oh, it’s a fine estate and she paid cash down for it! To old Ranieri, you know … the miser, the father of the man who took her away, the father of her first lover.”
“You know or pretend to know more than I do about the adventures of her youth,” replied Salvator. “I only know one thing about her, and that is that she is the kindest, worthiest and most intelligent woman I have met Thank Heaven! Is she here then? What wonderful news! We are saved, Karol. We shall go and ask her for shelter and if you wish to be kind to me, you will make the acquaintance of my dear Floriani with a good grace. But nobody in Milan knows that she is living hereabouts. They told me that I would find her in Venice or its vicinity.”
“Oh, she lives almost hidden from the eyes of the world,” said the host “Such is her whim at the moment However, she is well known here, for she does much good. She is very good, the Signora.”
“Quick, then, a boat, quick,” cried Salvator jumping for joy. “Ah, what a pleasant surprise! And there was I without the slightest sense of happy presentiment that I should find her here.”
This word startled KaroL “Presentiments,” said he, “act on us without our knowledge and drive us where they will.”
But the irrepressible Albani would not listen. He went back and forth, he shouted, he had a boat brought up, he flung a valise into it, he entrusted the coach and bags to the care of his servant who was to remain at the inn at Iseo and he dragged the young prince on to the unsteady planks of the small boat.
He was in such a hurry to arrive and the vivacity of his character momentarily so overpowered the constraint he usually imposed on himself so as not to offend his friend’s permanent sadness, that he seized an oar and himself rowed with the boatman, singing like a bird and, with the release of his impetuous gaiety, threatening to capsize the boat.
4.
They had gone half way across the lake when he noticed an increase in pallor on Karol’s face. He left the rudder and sitting down near him said, “Dear prince, I am afraid you are displeased with me. Probably you did not wish to make this new acquaintance. I am sorry. When one is travelling one must depart a little from one’s habits. I had promised not to vex you with such things. I had forgotten … because I was so pleased.”
“I forgive you everything. I accept everything,” replied the prince, calmly. “Friendship lives on sacrifices. You have made so many sacrifices for me that I certainly owe you some. Yet I had hoped that you would never take me to the home of a loose woman.”
“Stop, stop,” cried Salvator, gripping his hand hard. “Don’t use such offending, wounding words. Had anyone else but you spoken of her in that way…”
“Forgive me,” Karol said. “I had not realised that she was … that is, must have been your mistress.”
“My mistress,” retorted Salvator quickly. “Ah, if it only could have been so! But she loved another at that time, and besides, who knows if she would have liked me even if I had known her when her heart was free? No, Karol, I have not been her lover, and as I was the friend of the man she loved when we knew one another (his name was Foscari, an excellent young man) and I knew her to be loyal and faithful, I never dreamed of desiring her. Oh, if she were only living alone to-day as they told me in Milan … And if she wished to love me … But no! Come, don’t frown: I do not think that I shall develop a burning passion for her … I haven’t seen her for a long, long time. Perhaps she is no longer beautiful And besides, my heart and my senses had assumed the habit of remaining calm in her presence. My imagination would require a great effort to pass from esteem and respect to … Yet I’m no hypocrite and I would not like to swear it When there is great friendship between a man and a woman … But probably if she lives alone she loves someone absent It is impossible for that warmhearted creature to live without love; so I shall have no bad thoughts towards her. I would not wish to lose her friendship for anything in the world”
“To judge from all these twistings and turnings,” said the prince with a melancholy smile, “I see that I stand to risk losing you, and my presentiment of misfortune could well be no dream.”
“Your presentiment! Ah, you keep on harking back to it I had forgotten it Well, if it tells you that my travels will come to an end with this enchantress and that I shall let you depart alone, it is an impudent liar. No, no, Karol, your health, your wish, our journey before everything else! If your presentiment had a face I would slap it.”
The two friends continued to talk a little more about Madame Floriani. The prince, who was in Italy for the first time, had never seen her, and all he knew of her was the fame of her talent and the notoriety of her love affairs. Salvator spoke of her with enthusiasm; but as one must not always place reliance on friends, we shall tell the reader ourselves what he must know for the moment concerning our heroine.
Lucrezia Floriani was an actress possessing a pure, superior gift, not in the grand manner, but always moving and sympathetic when she was playing a good part; exquisite, admirable in all the details of mime, which help the actor to set off to advantage the work of the true poet and to find charm in that of the inferior one.
She had achieved great success, not only as an actress, but also as an author; for she had carried her passion for her art as far as to venture to write plays, first in collaboration with a few literary friends and finally alone by her own inspiration. Her plays had been successful, not that they were masterpieces, but they were uncomplicated, their sentiment was genuine, the dialogue was good, and she acted in them herself She had never had herself called out after performances, but her secret, for the time being, was part of the act and the public itself called out her name amid the wreaths of flowers and applause which they lavished on her.
In that country, at that time, newspaper criticism was not greatly developed. Madame Floriani had many friends and they were indulgent to her. Whole families, occupying the pit in various Italian towns showered her with ovations. They loved her; and if it is not impossible that her fame as an author was due to the benevolence of the public, it is at least certain that her character merited such indulgence and affection.
There was never a person more disinterested, more sincere, more modest and more liberal. It was either at Verona or Pavia that she managed a theatre and established a company of actors. She won the esteem of all those with whom she had dealings, was adored by those who needed her assistance and the public rewarded her for all she did. She was moderately successful financially and as soon, as she felt that she had an assured competency, she left the theatre, although at the very height of her talent and charms. For a few years she lived in Milan amid the society of artists and literary people. Her home was pleasant and her conduct so honourable and dignified (which does not mean that it was conventional) that ladies of society sought her company with sympathy and even a certain feeling of deference.
But suddenly she abandoned that world and the town itself, and withdrew to the lakeside at Iseo, which is where we meet her now.
Behind the motives which drove her in these opposite directions, towards this blooming of her dramatic and literary art and towards this sudden disgust of life and noise; towards this activity of theatre administration and towards the idleness of a rustic life – behind these contradictions there lay, without the slightest doubt, an uninterrupted succession of love affairs. I shall not tell you of them now, it would be too long and without direct interest. Nor shall I waste any time in making you grasp the nuances of a character as clear and easy to understand as Prince Karol’s was elusive and indefinable. As you hear it, you will appreciate this uncomplicated nature, as limpid in its faults as in its qualities. It is certain that I shall hide nothing from you in connection with Madame Floriani through prudishness or fear of displeasing you. What she had been in the past, what she was now, of this she would speak to anyone who asked her in a spirit of sympathy. But if people questioned her out of sheer curiosity and with hidden irony, to avenge herself for this patronising impertinence, she took great pleasure in shocking them by her outspokenness.
We cannot define this better than she herself did one day, when, speaking in good French, she said to an old marquis:
“You are in somewhat of a dilemma,” she said to him, “to know what word, accepted in your language, would describe a woman like me. Would you say that I am a courtesan? I don’t think so, since I have always given to my lovers and have never received anything, even from my friends. I owe my comfortable means solely to my work, and vanity has no more dazzled me than greed has led me astray. I have only had lovers who were not only poor, but even obscure.
“Would you say that I am a wanton? My heart, not my senses have ruled me, and I cannot even begin to understand pleasure without rapturous affection.
“Finally, am I a low, immoral woman? We must know what you mean by that. I have never sought scandal Maybe I have caused it without wishing to, and without knowing. I have never loved two men at the same time. I have never in fact and in intention belonged to more than one man during a given time, depending on the duration of my love. When I no longer loved him I did not deceive him. I broke with him absolutely. True, at the height of passion I had sworn to love him for ever; when I did swear it, it was in perfect good faith. Each time I have loved, it was with so much of my heart that I thought it was for the first and last time in my life.
“Yet you will not say that I am a decent woman; whereas I am certain that I am. I even assert before God that I am a virtuous woman, but I know that according to your ideas and public opinion what I have just said is blasphemy. I don’t care. I offer my life to the judgement of the world without rebellion against such judgement, without acknowledging that it is right as far as I am concerned.
