The Viceroys (59 page)

The prince, rather pale, said that the group of sportsmen must have had an accident, for none of Consalvo's companions had returned and the Duchess Radalì and her son the Duke Michele were sending home every half hour, worried about their Giovannino. Had their boat overturned on the Biviere? Or their carriage upset? Or a gun exploded, God forbid?

Donna Ferdinanda however was calmness itself, well aware that her protégé must have arranged it all to avoid being present at the marriage ceremony; and in her heart she approved. How silly of Giacomo to hint all round that he was getting married so as not to leave his children motherless! His children were no longer babes in arms! And then it wasn't as if their mother had ever had great authority over them. The prince had never let her do the least little thing for them. Now, on the other hand, what would be seen? This scandal-mongering cousin acting the mistress at the Francalanza palace!

The old spinster whispered these things into the ears of Chiara and Lucrezia, who repeated them to the marchese, to Don Blasco, and all realised that Giacomo was marrying Graziella only because as a young man he had got it into his head to do so. His mother had been against it and so he had bowed to her iron will. He even seemed to have forgotten about it, and treated his cousin coldly, as if he had never given her a thought, and was interested only in business affairs. But as soon as he arranged these he went back to his old love.

Now, after all these years, no longer young, with two growing children to look after, his first thought on being freed was to marry her, widowed, ageing, ugly, simply for revenge, to undo his mother's handiwork. Had he not also undone it in other ways by eluding the terms of her will and despoiling legatees and co-heir? What remained now of the dead woman's work? Had Raimondo not also undone the marriage willed for him by her? And Lucrezia, who was to stay at home, had she not married too?… ‘Wild! Stubborn! Mad!' They exchanged the same accusations; but this time all were agreed in blaming the prince and joining against him, the only exception being the Prior. Worldly interests, family troubles, touched him much less than before, now he was about to leave for Rome.

After the suppression of the monasteries all at the Curia had recognised that the learned and holy Benedictine should go ahead in other ways. He had been offered a bishopric and only had to choose, but aiming higher, he had asked to go to Propaganda. In those very days he had been called to the great Congregation, with nomination as Bishop
in partibus.
What did he care about his brother's wedding, his mother's Will, and all the
petty family intrigues? He was preceded in Rome by such a reputation and so many useful recommendations that he was sure, with his talents, to reach the highest rank of the Hierarchy in a short time.

As with the Prior, so too in Don Blasco the dissolution of the religious Orders had aroused other desires, other ambitions. Having converted into good income from government shares his money from the monastery, the monk had at last seen the dream of his youth come true: to own his own property, to be a capitalist. He had almost forgotten his hatred for his rival and nephew and bothered no more about him or anyone else.

But appetite comes with eating, says the proverb, and Don Blasco was not content with a few thousand
onze;
he wanted to get really rich and find out how to make money. For one thing he wanted to try to acquire some of the property of the chaplaincies and benefices. On finding that Giacomo was tricking him and starting the law-case on his own in spite of his promises, he became the leading spirit of the family league against him on the system already used against his brothers. Tit for tat, says another proverb, and the prince, who had made Raimondo and Lucrezia pay him for his support, now had to shut his uncle's mouth, for the latter, who never hesitated to use his tongue, had begun saying around that the princess's death was not as above board as it might be, and that Giacomo having made ‘poor Margherita rush on to Cassone while she was so ill and actually showing first symptoms of cholera had been due to his desire to rid himself of her, after forcing her to make a Will which left all to him and nothing to her children, that Consalvo's coldness had its reasons, and that … and that …

The prince then recognised his relative's rights to share the benefices and claim was restored. A calm only in appearance though, as rumours were bubbling beneath the surface. Giacomo did not want to quarrel with the monk and fall out with him now that he had money; nor with his aunt Ferdinanda for the same reason; least of all with the duke, whose authority as Deputy was useful against rapacious tax-gatherers. But he would inveigh furiously against everyone else. The agent of taxes, a man called Stravuso, was his particular bane. This man had a reputation not only for rapacity but for a terrible Evil
Eye, and the prince, on joining battle, was even afraid to name him; he just called him ‘God save us!', gripping an amulet in his closed fist, a bit of iron twisted into the shape of fingers making the sign against the Evil Eye.

‘
Me
talk to “God save us!”?…' said he to his uncle on the eve of the wedding. ‘I'd be mad to!… Get him sent away!… Get him moved, he's a thief lying in wait to strip us bare!… Not content with making me pay 20 per cent on the freeing of the benefices, he's after doubling the death-duties for outsiders! If we were outsiders we wouldn't inherit at all! The property comes to us just because the founders were our ancestors!'

The duke, who was praising the new laws to the skies, advised him not to complain; even with that 20 per cent deducted, the rest was all gain. The important thing, in the legislator's view, was that all property and income be taken from the monks and used for the enrichment of private citizens, and therefore for the increase of public prosperity. And so, while waiting to take his share of the released benefices, the duke had contracted for two properties of the Abbey of San Giuliano, Carrubo and Fontana Rossa, of which he would be taking possession within a few days; and he incited his nephew to do likewise, choose himself some good tract of land to be paid for by the year from its own produce and improved so as to multiply its value. But the prince said:

‘Excellency, I can't. My confessor won't let me. He's given me scruples, and on this solemn occasion of my marriage I intend to respect them. That doesn't mean Your Excellency has done wrong; our two cases are different …'

The duke stared him straight in the eyes to see if he was serious or joking. Then he brought out the same objection made by the prince to Don Blasco:

‘Then why are you putting in for the property of the benefices? Don't those belong to the Church too?'

‘No, Excellency,' replied the prince. ‘The Church was merely administrator according to the founders' intentions. The incomes only must be put to sacred use, and for that we are all responsible.'

While they were having this discussion the young prince's
absence was keeping other relatives gossiping behind the back of the new princess, who was making a great show of being worried and of fearing, like her husband, that the youth might have had an accident. She talked of sending messengers up to La Piana to find what had happened. In spite of her disquiet, however, she saw to the service of refreshments, whispered orders to Baldassarre, pressed guests to more cakes and ices, and carried out for the first time the duties of mistress of the house.

Don Blasco did not need much asking; now chains were up at San Nicola he could be as late as he liked. And as he munched away, he was making good use of his time to gather information on solvent signatures, for he too was now lending out money. Every now and again he also went up to a group amid whom the duke, having finished his talk with his nephew, was discoursing on public affairs.

The matter worrying the Deputy at the moment was the Town Hall. Things were going badly there, and the great man's friends were begging him to take over and give this further proof of devotion to his home town. But he declared that he lacked not will but strength. He was already Deputy, Provincial Councillor, member of the Chamber of Commerce and of the Agrarian Council, President of the Administrative Board of the Credit Bank, Councillor of the National Bank and the Bank of Sicily, and if that were not enough, he was always being put on all Watch Committees, all Commissions of Enquiry. At each new nomination he protested that it was too much, that he had not even time to scratch his head, that room must be made for others; but after long polite discussion he eventually had to yield to his friends' insistence. His adversaries, Republicans, malcontents, complained of this concentration of so many offices in one person, and the duke used this as a reason to refuse the office of Mayor. Benedetto, who after agonising private sufferings was just beginning to take an interest in public affairs again, pressed his uncle-in-law, and repeated the invitation in the name of the Town Council, adducing lack of capable persons.

‘You're not suggesting, are you,' replied the Deputy, ‘that I'm the only one who can act as Mayor? Why don't you take it on yourself?'

‘Because I haven't Your Excellency's qualifications!'

‘Just say you accept and you'll be nominated within a fortnight.'

Benedetto continued to ward him off, smilingly pretending that he did not think this a serious offer, but longing for it in his heart. There was one great difficulty, though, his wife's opposition. She became more and more irritable whenever she heard talk of public posts, elective offices, Liberal policy; and threatened to have kicked downstairs anyone who came to see him in his position as Town Councillor or President of the National Club, and tear up any such papers addressed to her husband before he read them. If she made so much fuss about so little what would she do if he was Mayor? So from fear of her, Benedetto parried the renewed offers of his uncle, who, as an irresistible last argument, now said, ‘The day I retire you'll find the ground well prepared …'

While the Deputy was insisting, and Lucrezia speaking ill of her husband to Chiara, and Donna Ferdinanda ill of the prince to the marchese, and the parasites paying court to the new princess, and Don Blasco flitting from group to group, came the rattle of a carriage driving in at full tilt, and all exclaimed:

‘Consalvo!… the young prince!…'

Baldassarre rushed downstairs to meet him. The youth looked in excellent trim, with boots as clean as if he were about to go out, but to the major-domo, who asked him anxiously what had happened, he replied:

‘I'm only alive by a miracle.'

As he entered the drawing-room all crowded round him. He began to describe a most complicated incident, losing his way on the Biviere and starving for twelve hours and a sinking boat. ‘Jesus!… Jesus!… Holy God of Love!…' people exclaimed all round. The princess particularly was repeating again and again, ‘Oh this passion for shooting … Oh, dear boy!… How alarming!…' As the prince himself made show of believing this story, everyone was careful to pretend delight at his son's escape. Only Donna Ferdinanda curled her thin lips in an ironic smile, knowing well that her protégé had run no danger at-all … Meanwhile Benedetto was whispering to his wife about
the offer of the Mayoralty made by her uncle and of his refusal. Lucrezia turned, looked him in the face and spat out, ‘Must you always be an idiot?'

The title of Mayor, it occurred to her, might ennoble her husband in some way and confer on him the authority, lustre, and importance which he lacked. But after the duke obtained Benedetto's nomination she realised that he remained more a Giulente than ever, a kind of clerk, a wretched paper passer, a public servant. And when they called her
Mayoress
she flushed like a poppy, as if they were insulting her, as if the complimentary tones concealed hidden irony. Now she gave Benedetto no quarter. After urging him to accept the office she flung its pointlessness, boredom, and perils in his face. When he had so much work that he returned home later than usual, tired out and famished, she would greet him with a long face and half the table laid with a dinner gone cold. When people came and asked for the Mayor, she shouted to the maid, ‘He's not in! There's no one in! Send away those bores …' so that the bores heard and felt no wish ever to return. When Giulente in spite of this received such people from prudence or necessity, she threw a shawl over her head and went round to relations or friends with outbursts of:

‘I can bear no more of it! I'm going mad! What a hellish life! If only I'd known!…'

When others tried to show she was wrong and pointed out Benedetto's affection and respect, her resentment got worse; she began to imagine herself ill-treated and to attribute every kind of evil to her husband. As the Giulente had never had a grant of estates she considered him poverty-stricken, but being unable to hint at this with any show of reason she accused him of meanness. He left her free to spend what she liked, but once she had got it into her head that he was mean the notion took on more reality for her than any fact, and with the air of a victim resigned to her destiny, on the verge of tears, she would refuse to buy any new clothes, hats or jewels, and would go around dressed like a servant. Her husband could get no explanation from her for this slovenliness, but she had her say against him at the palace. If the prince or Donna Ferdinanda reminded
her of her frenzied determination to marry him she counter-attacked with:

‘Why didn't you open my eyes then? What could I know! It was for you to warn me!'

‘Oh! Oh! Surely you haven't forgotten all you did?'

‘How could I know? You should have been firmer about preventing me from doing such a silly thing!'

This new idea became so nailed into her head that she would burst out to anyone she was with, complaining of her own unhappiness to people she had scarcely spoken to before, and adding to excuse herself: