Valperga (13 page)

Uguccione thought no more of his promises to Castruccio, and
both parties in Lucca were oppressed alike, by one who believed
that the best security for a governor was the cutting off the
tallest flowers in the field. The prompt exertions of Castruccio
alone saved his native city from utter ruin. He collected his
partizans, formed them into a troop, and ranging them under the
banners of Uguccione, accepted a command in this chief's army;
thus quieting the invaders' fears of a resistance which would
have been rash and vain, but having at the same time ready at
Castruccio's smallest signal a well armed and disciplined
troop, nominally in the service of the tyrant, but really devoted
by affection and military oaths to the cause of their immediate
commander. Nor did he again betray the confidence of his fellow
citizens; but, entering into Uguccione's counsels, and assuming
a tone of power which this chieftain could not resist, Castruccio
at the same time opposed a boundary to his arrogance and
cruelty.

But, although his first imprudence in inviting Uguccione to the
possession of Lucca was pardoned by his countrymen, in
consideration of the reparation that he earnestly desired to make,
it was looked upon with far different eyes by states who, hating
the Pisan Tyrant, and too distant to be acquainted with all the
palliating circumstances, regarded Castruccio as a traitor. The
news of the entrance of the Ghibeline exiles into Lucca, and the
capture of that town by Uguccione, quickly reached his Florentine
adversaries, and excited grief and rage in all the hearers. The
name of Castruccio as the betrayer of his country was repeated with
indignation and hatred.

There was one gentle heart in Florence which felt deep pain,
when it heard the name of Antelminelli coupled with an opprobrious
epithet. Euthanasia dei Adimari had not forgotten her vow made many
years before; she had treasured in her memory the recollection of
her young playfellow, and often, when travellers from Lombardy
mentioned the name of Castruccio, her fair cheek was suffused by
the eloquent blood.

Euthanasia had long been an orphan; her father had died, and by
his death was cut the dearest tie she had to earth. While he lived,
she had confined herself almost entirely to his room, and serving
as eyes to his blinded sense, she was as faithful to his wants as
his own orbs had been before their light was quenched. After his
death she mingled more with the distinguished youth of Florence,
and joined in that society, which, if we may judge from the
indications that Dante gives in his prose works, and from the
tender and exquisite poetry of Petrarch, was as refined, delicate
and cultivated, as the best society amidst the boasted politeness
of the present day. Yet among the youth of Florence Euthanasia was
as a lily, that overlooks the less illustrious yet beautiful
flowers of a garden. Her beauty, her accomplishments, and the gift
of flowing yet mild eloquence that she possessed, the glowing
brilliancy of her ardent yet tempered imagination, made her the
leader of the little band to which she belonged. It is said, that
as Dante sighed for Beatrice, so several of the distinguished
youths of Florence fed on the graceful motions and sweet words of
this celestial girl, who, walking among them, passionless, yet full
of enthusiasm, seemed as a link to bind their earthly thoughts to
heaven. Often with her mother's permission Euthanasia retired
for months to the castle of Valperga; and alone among the wild
Apennines she studied and worshipped nature, while the bright sun
warmed the valleys, and threw its beams over the mountains, or when
the silver boat of the moon, which displayed in the clear air its
heavy lading, sunk swiftly in the west, and numberless stars
witnessed her departure. Then again, quitting the eternal, ever-
succeeding pages of nature's volume, she pored over the works
she had before read with her father, or the later written poetry of
Dante, and incorporated the thoughts of the sublimest geniuses with
her own, while the creative fire in her heart and brain formed new
combinations to delight and occupy her.

Her young friends hailed with heartfelt joy her return from her
seclusion; she joined in all their amusements; who could sing the
canzones of those times, or relate a pathetic tale, like
Euthanasia? Besides she was so prudent, so wise, and so kind, that
her assistance was perpetually claimed and afforded in every little
misfortune or difficulty of her friends.

But the age of thoughtlessness and fearless enjoyment passed
away, and Euthanasia advanced to womanhood. At this period a
succession of events deprived her of her mother and her two
brothers, so that she remained sole heiress of the possessions of
her family. Independent and powerful, she was as a queen in
Valperga and the surrounding villages; at Florence she was
considered one of its first citizens; and, if power, wealth and
respect could have satisfied her, she must have been happy. She had
wept bitterly the death of her relations; she grieved for the loss
of her brothers, and felt only pain at being advanced to their
place. Yet her mind acquired new dignity, and the virtues of her
heart new fervour, from the entire independence of her situation,
and the opportunities she possessed of doing good. There was none
to gainsay her actions, except the rigid censorship of her own
reason, and the opinion of her fellow--citizens, to whose love and
esteem she aspired. Most of her time was now spent among her
dependents at Valperga; the villages under her jurisdiction became
prosperous; and the peasantry were proud that their countess
preferred her residence among them to the gaieties of Florence. In
the winter she visited her friends of that town; and many a noble,
who hoped to rival Dante Alighieri or Guido Cavalcanti, sang of the
miraculous change of seasons that had been operated on his
city;--that their summers were dreary, bare, and deserted, while
the soul of loveliness dwelt among them during the formerly dull
months of winter.

It is said that during this period she had never loved; she
admired the illustrious and energetic spirits of Florence, and she
bestowed her affections on several whose virtue and talents claimed
by right that meed; but she had never loved. It appears wonderful,
that one so sensitive of heart and imagination should have attained
her twenty- second year without having experienced the tyranny of
that passion; but, if it be true, how tremendous must be the force
of that power, which could finally break down the barriers piled by
reason and accustomed coldness, and deluge her soul with the sweet
waters of earthly love!

She had just entered her twenty-second year, when Castruccio in
1314 returned to Lucca; when under his auspices, the greatest enemy
of Florence became master of the neighbour city; when war was
declared between the two states, and Castruccio was in arms against
the Florentines. The summer was now far advanced; and she hastened
to her solitude at Valperga. She was hurt at heart; one of her
dearest dreams, the excellence of Castruccio, was overthrown; and
she wished for a while to shut out from her thoughts all memory of
the world, which appeared to bring tumult and discord to trouble
her tranquillity. She was unable to do this: she was too well
known, and too much loved, not to be sought by those with whom she
was acquainted; and she was startled to hear from all sides
eulogiums of the talents and soldiership of Castruccio, those of
the Ghibelines mingled with hope, those of the Guelphs with
fear.

Is there not a principle in the human mind that foresees the
change about to occur to it? Is there not a feeling which would
warn the soul of peril, were it not at the same time a sure
prophecy that that peril is not to be avoided? So felt Euthanasia:
and during her evening meditations she often enquired from her own
heart, why the name of Castruccio made her cheeks glow; and why
praise or dispraise of him seemed to electrify her frame: why a
nameless inquietude pervaded her thoughts, before so calm: why,
tenderly as she dwelt on the recollection of her infant playmate,
she dreaded so much now to see him? And then, strange to say, being
thus agitated and fearful, she saw him; and calm more still than
the serene depths of a windless heaven, redescended on her soul,
and wrapped it in security and joy.

It was not until October, while Euthanasia still lingered at
Valperga, that Castruccio took up his abode in Lucca. He returned
thither, covered with glory, but highly discontented with Uguccione
who feared him, and, while he shewed him outward honour, took every
occasion to thwart his desires, and to deprive him of all power and
voice in his council. But Castruccio was at the head of a large
party, who could ill brook the rude arrogance of Uguccione, and the
unmasked presumption of his sons. This party augmented every day;
it was watched, insulted, and harassed; but all the Ghibeline youth
of Lucca made it their boast to attend the person, and partake the
counsels of Castruccio.

The winter months were spent in apparent idleness, but in
reality in deep plotting on the part of Castruccio. Uguccione was
at Pisa, and his son, Francesco, could ill understand the wiles of
the pupil of Alberto Scoto. He saw his frank countenance, and
watched his gay demeanour; but the conclusion of his observations
was, that although Castruccio was careless of danger, and ambitious
of glory, he was too fond of pleasure, and of too ingenuous a
disposition, to enter into any deep scheme, or to form even the
wish of usurping the power of the state.

Castruccio stood on the tower of the Antelminelli palace; young
Arrigo Guinigi was at his side; he was surrounded by half a dozen
of his most intimate associates, and after having for a while
discussed their plans of political conduct, they remained silent.
Castruccio was separated from the rest of the group; the tower of
Antelminelli overlooked the town of Lucca, and being raised far
above its narrow, dark streets, appeared, together with the
numerous towers of the city, as forming a separate and more
agreeable town for the nobles over the heads of the meaner
inhabitants. The valley was stretched around the city; its fields
bare of vegetation, and spotted with black patches of leafless
woods; and the view was terminated by the hills, crowned with snow,
and their sides clothed with the dark verdure of the ilex, while
from among their folds peeped the white walls of villages and
castles.

Castruccio fixed his eye on one of these castles. The forgotten
scenes of his youth thronged into his memory, and oppressed him
with their numbers and life; the low voice of his mother sounded in
his ears; the venerable form of Adimari stood before him, and it
seemed to him as if the slender fingers of the infant Euthanasia
pressed his hand. He turned suddenly round, and asked: "Does
she still live there?"-- pointing to the castle.

"Who? The countess of Valperga?"

"Aye, and her daughter Euthanasia?" Many years had
elapsed since he had pronounced that name; he felt his whole frame
thrill to its musical sound.

"The present countess," replied Vanni Mordecastelli,
"is young and unmarried"--

"And her name is Euthanasia," continued count Ludovico
de' Fondi; "she is the daughter of Messer Antonio dei
Adimari, who while he lived was one of the leaders of the Guelph
party at Florence; and through her mother she possess the castle
and villages of Valperga."

"Aye," cried a youth, "and they say that Ranieri
della Fagginola pretends to her hand. It is not well, that the
credulity of a woman, who will listen to the first fine speeches
that are addressed her, should cause so strong a hold as the castle
of Valperga to pass into the hands of that insufferable nest of
traitors."

"You are ignorant of whom you talk," said the aged
Fondi, "when you speak thus lightly of the young countess of
Valperga. She is a lady of great prudence, beauty, and learning;
and, although for years she has been sought by the first nobles of
Italy, she glories in her independence and solitude. She mingles
little with the citizens of this town; her friends reside at
Florence, where she often passes many months, associating with its
first families."

"Is she as beautiful, as she is said to be?" asked
young Arrigo Guinigi.

"Indeed she is lovely to a miracle; but her manners almost
make you forget her beauty; they are so winning and graceful.
Unfortunately she does not belong to our party, but is as strongly
attached to the Pope's as the countess Matilda of
old."

"Aye, these women are so easily cajoled by
priests."

"Nay, Moncello, you will still be in the wrong, if you
apply common rules to the conduct of the countess Euthanasia. She
is attached to the cause of the freedom of Florence, and not to the
power of her Popes. When I visited her on her return to her castle,
I found her full of grief at the renewal of the war between these
states. She earnestly asked me whether I saw any prospect of peace;
`For,' said she, `I am more attached to concord and the
alliance of parties, than to any of the factions which distract our
poor Italy.'"--

The conversation then turned on other subjects. Castruccio had
listened silently to the praise which the old count Fondi had
bestowed on the friend of his childhood; and presently after,
taking Arrigo aside, he said: "My young friend, you must go on
an embassy for me."

"To the end of the world, if you desire it, my dear
lord"--

"Nay, this is a shorter journey. You must ride tomorrow
morning to the castle of Valperga, and ask permission of the
countess that I may visit her. Our families, though of opposite
interests, were much allied; and I ought to have sought this
interview before."

On the following day Castruccio waited anxiously for the return
of Arrigo. He arrived a little before noon. "I have seen
her," he cried; "and, after having seen her, I wonder at
the torpor of these Lucchese that they do not all emigrate from
their town, to go and surround her castle, and gaze on her all day
long. I seem only to live since I have seen her; she is so lovely,
so enchantingly kind and gentle. I have heard you say, my good
brother, that you never met with a woman whom you could enshrine in
your inmost heart, and thus pay worship to the exalted spirit of
loveliness, which you had vainly sought, and never found. Go to
Valperga, and, gazing on Euthanasia, you will tremblingly unread
your heresy."