Lucrezia Floriani, page 6
“You speak like a blind man talking about colours, Karol. Love breaks all obstacles which confront it, as the sea breaks its dykes. I can swear to you that I shall not remain here longer than one night, but I am not certain that I shall not leave my heart and my thoughts behind”
“So that is why I feel so weak and dejected to-night,” said the prince. “Yes, my friend, I keep on returning to the superstitious fear which seized me when first I cast my eyes on the lake, even from a distance! When we entered the boat which conveyed us here, it seemed to me that we were about to drown. Yet you know that it is not one of my weaknesses to fear physical danger, that I do not dislike water, that I sailed with you calmly all yesterday, and even during a real storm on Lake Como. Well, I ventured on to the calm surface of this lake with the timidity of a nervous woman. I am only rarely subject to these kinds of superstition. I do not give way to them, and the proof that I can resist them is that I said nothing to you about it. But the same vague anxiety about an unknown danger, or imminent misfortune for you or me, has pursued me until this hour. I thought I saw familiar ghosts move over those waves, who beckoned to me to go back. In the wake of the boat the golden reflections of the dying sun assumed the shape of my mother, then the features of Lucie … The spirits of my lost loves stood obstinately between us and the shore. I do not feel ill, I mistrust my imagination … and yet I am not at ease; it is not natural.”
Salvator was about to prove that this anxiety was an entirely nervous phenomenon resulting from the agitations of the journey, when a strong vibrant voice coming from behind the cottage, said “Where is he, where is he, Biffi?”
Salvator uttered a cry of joy, sprang forward on to the terrace and Karol saw him welcome in his arms a woman who effusively returned his embrace in a most sisterly manner.
They spoke to each other and questioned and answered one another with animation in a Lombard dialect which Karol could not grasp as quickly as pure Italian. The result of this exchange of rapid, contracted words was that Madame Floriani turned to the prince, held out her hand to him and without realising that he was not exactly accepting it with a good grace, pressed his cordially, telling him that he was welcome and it would give her great pleasure to receive him.
“I beg your pardon, my good Salvator,” said she, laughing, “for leaving you to cool your heels in the manor of my ancestors; but I am exposed here to the curiosity of idlers and as I always have some great plan of work in mind, I am obliged to shut myself up like a nun.”
“But the fact is that people do say that you almost took the veil as well as your vows some time ago,” said Salvator, repeatedly kissing the hand which she allowed him to retain. “It was only with fear and trembling that I dared to disturb you in your hermitage.”
“Very well, very well,” she continued “You are pleased to mock me and my beautiful plans. It is because I do not wish to receive bad counsel that I have fled from all my friends and am living in hiding. But because fortune brings you to me I have not sufficient strength yet to send you away. Come, and bring your friend with you. I shall at least have the pleasure of offering you lodgings more comfortable than the locanda at Iseo. But I see that you have not yet kissed my son. Don’t you recognise him?”
“Indeed no. I dared not recognise him,” said Salvator, turning towards a handsome boy of twelve who was frisking about and playing with a hunting dog. “How tall he has grown and how handsome he is!” And he embraced the child who did not remember his name. “And what of the other?” added Salvator, “the little girl?”
“You will see her presently, as well as her little sister and my youngest boy.”
“Four children!” cried Salvator.
“Yes, four beautiful children and all with me, in spite of anything people say. You met my father, while I was being sent for, didn’t you? You see, he watches over me here. Nobody enters without his permission Good evening, for the second time, father. Are you coming to lunch with us to-morrow?”
“I can’t say, I can’t say,” said the old man “You will have plenty of people without me.”
Madame Floriani insisted, but her father would promise nothing, and he drew her aside to ask her if she needed any fish. As she knew it was his obsession to sell her all the fish he caught and even to charge her high prices, she gave him a handsome order and left him delighted. Salvator was watching them secretly. He saw that Madame Floriani resigned herself to the old man’s oddities very philosophically and even gaily.
Night had fallen and neither Karol nor his friend (who was however quite familiar with Madame Floriani’s features) could see her face clearly. To the prince she appeared neither as majestic in figure nor elegant in her manners as could have been expected from a woman who had acted the part of great ladies and queens so well. She was rather small and inclined to be plump. Her voice was rather resonant, but it was too vibrant for the prince’s ears. If a woman had spoken in this way in a drawing room all eyes would have turned in her direction with distaste at this breach of good manners.
They crossed the park and the garden with Biffi who carried the portmanteau and they entered a large room, simple and noble in style, supported by Doric columns, and walls of white stucco. There were many lights and flowers in the four corners of the room from which sprang brilliant, slender jets of water brought from the neighbouring lake at little expense.
“Perhaps you are surprised to see so much useless light?” said Madame Floriani, observing the pleasant surprise on Salvator’s face at the sight of this beautiful drawing room. “But it is the only whim which I have retained from my days on the stage. When in solitude I like space and brilliant lights. I also like the brightness of the stars. But dark rooms sadden me.”
Madame Floriani, to whom this house brought back both sweet and cruel memories, had made many changes and improvements in it All she had left untouched was the bedroom once occupied by her godmother, Signora Ranieri, and a special patch of garden where this excellent woman cultivated flowers and taught her god-daughter to love them. Signora Ranieri had loved Lucrezia tenderly, she had done her utmost to induce the old miserly lawyer, of whom she had had the misfortune to be both wife and slave, to unite her son in marriage to this peasant girl whom she had brought up and educated. But she had failed; and now the whole Ranieri family was gone. Madame Floriani cherished the memory of some of them, forgave the others and, after much emotion, she had become accustomed to living here without thinking too much of the past. It was because she had made several necessary and tasteful improvements to this house, which was basically very simple, that old Menapace who could not understand these needs of hers for elegance, harmony and style, accused her of ruining herself.
The appearance of this drawing room pleased Karol, too. This kind of Italian luxury which concentrates on satisfaction to the eye, beauty of line and monumental elegance rather than profusion, comfort and richness of furniture, was exactly in keeping with his own tastes and corresponded to the ideas he held of an existence both noble and simple. In accordance with his habit of not wishing to probe too far into the soul of another person and looking at the frame rather than studying the picture he sought something in her outer behaviour which might comfort him for what he thought must be scandalous and culpable in her intimate life.
But while Karol was occupied with admiring the brightly coloured walls, the limpid fountains and the exotic flowers, Salvator was preoccupied with something entirely different. He was looking at Madame Floriani both anxiously and eagerly. He was afraid he would not find her beautiful and perhaps at the same time bearing in mind the solemn promise he had made to leave the following day, he partly wished that it would be so.
As soon as he saw her in a light sufficiently bright he did indeed observe a definite change in her freshness and beauty. She had put on a little weight; her delicate complexion had given way to a uniform pallor, her eyes had lost some of their brilliance, the expression of her features was no longer the same. In short, she was less vivid and less animated, although she appeared more active and better in health than ever. She was no longer in love; she was a different woman, and it required a few moments for him to adjust himself to this change.
At this time Madame Floriani was thirty, and Salvator had not seen her for five years. He had left her in the midst of emotions resulting from work, love and fame. Now he found her a mother, a country woman, a retired genius, a star grown dim.
She was quickly aware of the impression made upon him by this change, because they had taken one another by the hand and were looking at each other closely, both smiling, she calm and radiant, he anxious and melancholy.
“Well,” she said to him in a frank, resolute tone, “we have both changed, haven’t we? And we both have something to correct in our recollections. The change is entirely in your favour, dear Count You have gained much. You used to be an amiable and interesting young man. And now you are still a young man, but at the height of your physical powers, darker, stronger, with a handsome black beard, magnificent eyes, a lion’s mane and an air of triumph and success. You are at the most beautiful moment of life’s blossoming and you are enjoying it to the full. That is obvious from your look which is more assured and brilliant than it was in the old days. Possibly you are surprised that you are more good-looking to-day than I am. You will remember the time when it was the opposite. There are two reasons for it: you are less impetuous and I am less young. I am in the process of descending the slope which you are still climbing. You used to raise your head to look at me and now you bend to seek me below you, on the far side of life. Do not pity me, however! I believe I am happier in my cloud than you are in your bright sunshine.”
7.
Madame Floriani’s voice had a certain individual charm. In truth, it was too strong a voice for a lady of society, but it had retained its pristine freshness, and its timbre had not suffered from her life on the stage. Above all, the tone of her voice possessed a frankness which never left the slightest shadow of doubt of the sincerity of feeling she was expressing; and in her diction which had always been as natural on the stage as in private, nothing reminded one of the ranting and bombast of the boards. However, everything she said bore the stamp of tremendous vitality. From the accuracy of the modulation of her voice, Karol judged that she must have been a perfect actress of irresistible appeal It was on this head that he expressed his approval, determined as he was never to see anything interesting in her save as an artist.
Salvator knew that she was too sincere by nature to pretend detachment from herself. But he believed that she was deluding herself, and he thought of something to say which would soften the somewhat cruel effect of his first look at her. But in such cases we cannot find anything delicate enough to console a woman for her decline and all he could do was to kiss her and tell her that she would still have lovers when she was a hundred, if she so wished.
“No,” said she, laughing. “I don’t wish to be another Ninon de Lenclos. So as not to grow old one has to be cold and idle. Love and work do not allow one to preserve oneself in that way … I hope I shall be able to retain my friends, that is all And that will be indeed enough.”
At that moment two charming little girls came hurrying into the drawing room, saying that supper was served The two travellers, having had theirs at Iseo, insisted that Madame Floriani should sit down to eat with her children. Salvator picked up the little girl he knew and the one he did not know and carried them both into the dining room; Karol who was afraid of being in the way, remained in the drawing room. But the two rooms were adjoining; the door remained open and the stucco walls were resonant Although he wished to remain plunged in his own private world and take no part in the events around him while he was in this house, he could see and hear everything, and he even listened, somewhat to his own annoyance.
“Now then,” Salvator was saying as he sat down at the table beside the children (and Karol noticed that when he was not in his immediate presence Salvator found it natural to use the familiar form of address with Madame Floriani) “allow me to wait on your children and yourself I already adore them as I always did, and even this charming little blond fairy who was not born then. You are the only one, Lucrezia, who can do everything better than anyone else, and that includes producing children.”
“You should say especially children. God has blessed me in this respect They are as good, sweet and easy to rear as they are fresh and healthy. Ah, look, here is another coming to say good night to me. Another one for you to meet, Salvator.”
Karol, who after trying to glance through a news-sheet had begun to walk about in the drawing room, cast an involuntary glance in the direction of the dining room, and saw a beautiful village girl enter, carrying a sleeping child in her arms.
“What a magnificent nurse,” cried Salvator, innocently.
“You slander her,” said Madame Floriani. “Say rather a Correggio Virgin with il divino bambino. In fact, my children had no other nurse but myself, and the two youngest were often fed in the wings, between two acts. Once I remember the public calling for me with such insistence after the first act, that I was obliged to come and take my bow with my child under my wrap. The two youngest were brought up in less disturbed conditions. This baby was weaned a long time ago. He is a child of two.”
“Upon my word, the one I see last always seems the most beautiful,” said Salvator, as he took the bambino from the maid’s hands. “He is a real cherub! I would very much like to kiss him, but I am afraid I will awaken him.”
“Don’t be afraid. Children who are healthy and play all day in the open air sleep very soundly. One should never deprive them of a caress; even if it gives them no pleasure, it brings them luck.”
“Oh yes, that’s your superstition,” said Salvator. “I remember! It’s a sweet idea, and I love it. You extend it even to people who have died. I remember that poor stage hand who was killed during one of your performances, when some scenery fell.”
“Ah yes, the poor man! You were there … It was during the time when I had my own company.”
“And you, so brave and admirable, had him carried to your dressing room, where he uttered his last sigh. What a scene!”
“Yes, indeed, it was more terrible than the one I had just played to the public. My costume was covered with the blood of the unfortunate man.”
“What a life was yours! You hadn’t the time to change, the play went on, you reappeared on the stage and the audience thought that this blood was part of the drama.”
“He was a poor fellow, married, with a family. His wife was there and from the stage I could hear her screaming and moaning in my dressing room. One has to be made of iron to endure the life of an actress.”
“Outwardly you are of iron, but I know that inwardly there is no one more humane and compassionate than you. I well remember that after the performance, when they removed the dead man, you approached him and kissed him on the forehead, saying that it would help his soul to enter his eternal rest. Moved by your example, the other actors did likewise, and I myself, to please you, had the courage to do the same, although men possess this virtue to a lesser degree than women in such cases. At the time it looked odd and seemed somewhat exaggerated; but things done from the heart go straight to the heart. His wife, to whom you promised a pension, was even more moved by the kiss from the beautiful queen of the play, given to the bleeding corpse of a hideous workman (for he was hideous) than by all your other kindnesses. She embraced your knees, she felt that you had made her husband illustrious and that with your kiss on his brow his soul would never descend to hell.”
During the story the eyes of Madame Floriani’s elder son had been flashing like jewels.
“Yes, yes,” cried the handsome boy who had his mother’s pure features and intelligent expression. “I too was there and I have forgotten nothing. It happened just as you say, signor, and I too kissed poor Giananton.”
“My good Celio,” said Madame Floriani, kissing him, “You must not remember such emotions too much; they were too strong for your age; but on the other hand you must not forget them. God forbids us to shun the misfortune and suffering of others; one must always be ready to run towards them and never believe that there is nothing one can do, even if it is only to bless the dead and give a little support to those who weep. That is your way of seeing things, isn’t it, Celio?”
“Yes,” said the child with the tone of candour and firmness which he had from his mother, and he embraced her so hard and so wholeheartedly that for a moment her round, strong neck bore the mark of his sturdy little hands.
Madame Floriani ignored the roughness of the embrace and did not reproach him for it She went on eating with an excellent appetite, but even in the midst of her lively conversation with Salvator she was still the mother concerned with her children and carefully watched that he measured out the food and wine to each of them correctly, according to his age and temperament.
Hers was a nature which was active amid calm, indifferent to herself, attentive and vigilant for others; ardent in her affections, but without excessive anxiety, always concerned to make her children think without impairing their gaiety, always ready to play with them (and on this point very much a child herself), gay by instinct and habit, yet surprising one by a seriousness of judgement and a firmness of opinion which did not preclude a maternal tolerance extending well beyond the family circle. She had a clear, profound and lively mind She said amusing things with a calm manner and made others laugh without laughing herself It was her system to maintain good humour and to see the amusing side of annoyances, the acceptable side of suffering and the salutary side of misfortune. Her state, her whole life, her very being were an incessant education to her children, friends, servants and the poor. She existed, thought and breathed as it were for the moral and physical well-being of others, and in the midst of this work, so simple apparently, she did not seem to remember the possible existence of regrets or desires for herself.
