Authors: Mary Shelley
Euthanasia tried to soothe her; but in vain. She wept bitterly,
and prayed so earnestly that the countess would spare them both the
utter misery they would endure, that Euthanasia was for a moment
startled by her adjurations; but then, recalling her thoughts, she
replied with gentle firmness, and bade her lay aside her fears
which were unfounded, for there was nothing to dread save an easy
imprisonment, if they should be overcome.
And now, as they were talking thus, a messenger came from
Bondelmonti. "The general desires you to have good
heart," he said; "the troops of the enemy advance; and,
if we may judge by their appearance, they are few, and even those
few the refuse of the prince's army."
Euthanasia listened incredulously; for she knew that however
doubtful the decision of the combat might be, the contention must
be fierce. Soon the war-cry arose from without the castle, and was
echoed from the walls and mountains; when it ceased it was answered
by the Ghibeline cry from the assailants. But this only proved the
truth of Bondelmonti's assertion, that they were few, and of no
note; for the shout was not that exhilarating sound, that echoes
the soul's triumph, and, borne along the line, raises
responsive ardour in every breast; it was loud, but soon died
away.
Wearied by the childish remonstrances of Lauretta, Euthanasia
descended to the platform of the castle, and leaned over the
barbican; but she could see nothing, though her ears were stunned
by the cries, and clash of arms, that rose from the valley.
Returning to the inner court, she met some men who were bearing the
wounded from the field, and bringing them for succour to the
castle; for a moment her heart sunk within her, for a moment she
was pierced with grief, as she thought--"This is my
work!" But she recovered herself--"It must all be
endured," said she; "I have undertaken a part, and will
not faint on the threshold. Spirit of my father, aid me!"
Beds had been prepared in a large apartment of the castle, and
Euthanasia mingled with the women who ministered to the wounded;
she bound them with her own hands, cheered them with her voice, and
endeavoured, by supporting their minds, to alleviate the sense of
bodily pain. The men, who saw her flitting like an angel about
them, aiding and ministering to their wants, felt all the love and
gratitude that such unwonted, but gracious kindness might inspire.
"Fear not, lady," they said; "we are even more
numerous than those who attack us; already they are tired, and out
of breath; fear not, the day is ours."
A messenger also came from Bondelmonti, to say, that the
imprudence of an under-officer had caused the few to fall who had
fallen, but that her troops were now all sheltered, and, that
without the loss of a man they would either destroy all the
assailants, or drive them down the steep; and this assertion
appeared confirmed, since no more wounded were brought in. Thus
reassured, Euthanasia left the hall, and ascended to her own
apartment; her spirit was lightened of much of its burthen; the
first barrier had been passed; and she feared not, she would not
fear, the rest.
As she thought this, a sudden scream echoed through the castle;
for a moment she was transfixed; the scream was repeated, louder
and nearer, and she hastened to the window that overlooked the
outer court. Thence she saw a party of soldiers in the Lucchese
uniform issue from the gate, and run round the castle towards the
drawbridge; as they came out in file she thought their numbers
would never end, and she recognized several of the officers as
those of the highest rank in Castruccio's army; the last at
length disappeared, and she looked around for an explanation. The
castle was silent; she stood alone in the room; and even the echo
of footsteps reached her not: she paused a moment; and then, weary
of further doubt, she hastened to the room of Lauretta, and found
it full of soldiers,--the enemy's soldiers; while the poor
girl, pale and trembling, sat bewildered and silent. Euthanasia
entered from a small door, leading from a private staircase: her
first words were addressed to her friend; "Fear not," she
cried; "we are betrayed; but fear not."
The soldiers, seeing her appear, had sent for their chief
officer, who came forward, saying, "The castle is ours; and,
Madonna, it were well that you ordered your people to yield; for
further resistance would be useless, and could only cause more
bloodshed: we are commanded by our general to act with the greatest
moderation."
"It is enough," replied Euthanasia, quietly; "the
commander will judge of the necessity of submission: but see, you
frighten this lady, who is ill and delicate. I beseech you to leave
this room awhile; if I find that indeed no further resistance can
be made, I shall soon be prepared to obey what orders you may
bring."
"Madonna, we withdraw as you desire: but permit me to add,
that it is the general's orders that we escort you to Lucca
this evening: until then we shall not intrude upon you."
The soldiers quitted the room; and Euthanasia, leaving Lauretta
with her servant, retired to her own apartment. Here she found
several of her attendants, who told with many tears that there was
no longer any hope; that the enemy, entering at the postern, had
attacked her soldiers from behind, and driven them down the
mountain, and that the party left in the castle having raised the
drawbridge, were now in undisturbed possession. Euthanasia heard
all this with an unaltered mien, and, when the melancholy tale was
finished, she bade them leave her, and go to the commanding officer
of the troop to receive orders for their further proceeding, but
not to return to her, until she should command their attendance.
THE castle bell tolled the Ave Maria for the last time,
answering the belfries of the various convents in the vale below.
"There is my knell!" cried Euthanasia. At first she
thought that it would please her, in quitting for ever the abode of
her ancestors, to array herself in mourning garments; but then the
simplicity of her mind made her instinctively shun any thing that
had the appearance of affectation; so she covered her head with a
white veil, folded her capuchin about her, and returned to the
chamber of Lauretta to prepare for her removal. Castiglione sent
thither to desire admittance; when he came, he felt awed by the
deportment of Euthanasia, who received him with that slight tinge
of pride mingled with her accustomed dignity, which adversity
naturally bestows on the good. He announced that the escort had
arrived to convey them to Lucca; Euthanasia bowed her head in
acquiescence; and, supporting Lauretta, with an unfaltering step
she left for the last time the castle of her ancestors; she
supported her friend with one hand, and with the other folded her
veil close to her face, that no rudely curious eye might read in
its expression the sorrow that she felt in her heart. "My
grief is my own," she thought, "the only treasure that
remains to me; and I will hoard it with more jealousy from the
sight and knowledge of others, than a miser does his
gold."
She walked unhesitating through the hall, long the seat of her
purest happiness. Her infant feet had trodden its pavement in
unreproved gaiety; and she thought for a moment that she saw the
venerable form of her father seated in his accustomed place. But
she proudly shook the softening emotion from her, and looked with a
tearless eye upon the hearth, round which the soldiers of her enemy
stood, profaning its sacredness by their presence. The inner court
of the castle was filled by a number of women and children, the
wives of the peasantry who depended on her, who, as they saw her
advance, raised one cry of grief; she started, and said in a
smothered voice, "Could I not have been spared this?"
"Impossible," replied Castiglione, who overheard her;
"nothing but the most brutal force could have prevented
them."
"Enough," said Euthanasia; "I am
satisfied."
The women clung about her, kissing her hands, her garments, and
throwing themselves on their knees with all the violent
gesticulation of Italians. They tore their hair, and called on
heaven to save and bless their mistress, and to avenge her
wrongs;--"God bless you, good people!" cried their
countess; "may you never be reminded of my loss by any
misfortune that may befall yourselves!"
And, disengaging herself from their grasp, she walked on, while
they followed crying and bewailing. She crossed the drawbridge,
which was guarded at each end by soldiers; ere she put her foot on
the opposite rock, Euthanasia paused for one moment; it seemed to
her that all was irretrievably lost, when once she had passed the
barrier which this bridge placed between her past and future life;
she glanced back once more at the castle, and looked up to the
window of her apartment; she had expected to find it desert and
blank; but it was filled with soldiers, who stood looking from it
on her departure; she sighed deeply, and then with quicker steps
hastened down the mountain.
The idea that this path had been the scene of the morning's
combat affrighted her; and she dared not look round, fearing that
she might see some lifeless victim among the bushes and rocks on
the road-side: and so it might easily have been; for, when
Castiglione had ordered the road to be cleared of the dead, many
had been cast behind the projections of rock, or under the low
wood, in their haste; and, as they passed, the vulture arose from
among the grass, scared from his prey, and told too truly that he
feasted upon limbs which that same morning had been endowed with
life. The very path on which she trod was slippery with blood; and
she felt as if she walked through one of the circles of hell's
torments, until she reached the foot of the rock.
Lauretta was placed in a litter; Euthanasia mounted her horse;
and they prepared to depart: but the women again raising a cry,
threw themselves about the horse, seizing the reins, and vowing
that she should not leave them. "God bless you!" cried
the poor countess, who, although filled with her own grief, yet
sympathized with these good people; "but now go; you may harm
yourselves with your new master; you can do no good to
me."
The soldiers interfered; and, opening the path before
Euthanasia, she gave the reins to her horse, and rode with speed
out of the hearing of the cry, which her people again sent up, when
they saw that she had indeed left them. She had outridden the rest
of her party; and, finding herself alone, she drew up her palfrey
to wait their arrival. She looked upon the castle, no longer hers;
a few quick drops fell; she dried them again; and, seeing her
escort approach, she turned her horse's head, and, without a
word, proceeded slowly on her way to Lucca.
The city-gates were shut; but, on the word being given by her
escort, they were thrown open, and she entered the dark and narrow
streets of the town. "My prison!" thought Euthanasia.
Here the company divided: Lauretta, at her own request, was
conveyed to the house of the mother of Leodino; and Euthanasia was
led to the palace prepared for her reception. She took no notice of
the streets through which she passed, and cared little whether they
conducted her to a palace or a prison; indeed during the latter
part of her ride, her strength both of mind and body so much
forsook her, that she could hardly keep her seat on her horse, but
rode like a veiled statue of despair.
Euthanasia was led to her chamber; her attendants came to her,
but she dismissed them all; and, her mind confused, her spirits and
strength quite exhausted by long watching during several of the
preceding nights, and by the exciting circumstances of the day, she
threw herself dressed as she was on a couch, and, kindly nature
coming to her aid, sank instantaneously into a heavy and dreamless
sleep.
Day was far advanced, before she again awoke, and looked forth
on the light, with a sentiment, as if the slight refreshment of
spirit and strength she had received, were but a mockery of the sad
weight that oppressed her heart. She lifted her heavy head, like a
water lily whose cup is filled by a thunder shower: but, presently
recalling her scattered faculties, she sat for some time in deep
meditation, endeavouring to philosophize herself out of the
unhappiness that she felt. The palace to which she had been
conducted, was a large and magnificent one, near the outskirts of
the town: it had belonged to one of the victims of Castruccio's
despotism, and had the desolate and woe-begone appearance of a
mansion which has lost its master. From the chamber where she sat,
she looked upon the garden; a square plot of ground surrounded by
four high walls, which had been planted in the Italian taste, but
which now ran wild; the small flower-beds were overgrown with
weeds, and the grass, a rude commoner, had thrust itself into the
untrod paths; the stone--pedestals for the lemon-pots were green
with moss and lichens; and here and there the wind-borne seed of
some delicate plant had sown a lovely flower in the midst of the
moist, coarse herbage which could ill claim its fellowship. A few
cypress and box trees, which had been cut into shape, now mocked
the gardener's knife with the unpruned growth of three years;
and ivy darkened the walls side by side with the orange trees,
whose golden apples shone amidst the dark foliage. A few lizards
had crept from beneath the stones to bask in the rays of the
autumnal sun; and the frogs croaked in a reservoir or cistern,
which had once played as a fountain, but which was now choked with
weeds and dirt. Such was the desolate scene which arrested the eyes
of Euthanasia, as she looked from her window. "The image of my
fortunes;" she thought, and turned away, while a tear flowed
down her cheek.
Her servant now entered; and, while she arranged her dress, the
woman related the catastrophe of the siege. When the soldiers of
Castruccio had appeared behind her defenders coming down from the
castle, they threw themselves first on those who guarded the
bridge, and took Bondelmonti and the principal Florentines
prisoners: but the dependents of the countess, transported with
fury, and elevated by the promises which Bindo had held out of
success, rushed out of their hiding-places, and charging those at
the foot of the rock, drove them with desperate courage down the
mountain path, unmindful of the enemies who pressed upon their
rear. The battle was bloody; many fell on each side; the small
troop of Valpergans were destroyed almost to a man, falling
voluntary sacrifices for their mistress's preservation. A few
were taken prisoners, and among them Bindo, who almost miraculously
had escaped unwounded. But, if he were not wounded in body, his
mind was almost frenzied with rage and disappointment, when he saw
the Lucchese flag wave from the donjon of the castle; he tried to
break from those who held him, and, weak as he appeared to be, he
exerted such desperate strength, using both hands, feet, and teeth,
that the soldiers found it necessary to bind him.--As they fastened
the cords, Castiglione came up: he remembered the Albinois; and,
asking why it was that he was used so roughly, he ordered them to
set him free. As soon as his bonds were loosened, without speaking
or looking round, he darted off; and, running across the country as
swiftly as a deer from the hounds, was quickly out of sight.