The Making of a Saint Page 6
V
A few days later, Matteo came to me as I was dressing, having rescued myclothes from him.
'I wonder you're not ashamed to go out in those garments,' he remarked,'people will say that you wear my old things.'
I took no notice of the insult.
'Where are you going?' he asked.
'To Madonna Giulia.'
'But you went there yesterday!'
'That is no reason why I should not go to-day. She asked me to come.'
'That's very obliging of her, I'm sure.' Then, after a pause, duringwhich I continued my toilet, 'I have been gathering the news of Forli.'
'Oh!'
'Madonna Giulia has been affording a great deal of interest....'
'You have been talking to the lady whom you call the beautiful Claudia,'I said.
'By the way, why have you not been to her?'
'I really don't know,' I said. 'Why should I?'
'You told me you had progressed a long way in her favours during thehalf-hour's talk you had with her the other night; have you not followedup the advantage?'
I shrugged my shoulders.
'I don't think I like a woman to make all the advances.'
'Don't you?' said Matteo. 'I do!'
'Besides, I don't care for the type; she is too massive.'
'She feels very much hurt at your neglect. She says you have fallen inlove with Giulia.'
'That is absurd,' I replied; 'and as to her being hurt at my neglect, Iam very sorry, but I don't feel any obligation to throw myself into thearms of every woman who chooses to open them.'
'I quite agree with you; neither she nor Giulia are a bit better thanthey should be. I'm told Giulia's latest lover is Amtrogio dellaTreccia. It seems one day he was almost caught by old Bartolomeo, andhad to slip out of the window and perform feats worthy of a professionalacrobat to get out of the way.'
'I don't think I attach belief to all the scandal circulating on thesubject of that lady.'
'You're not in love with her?' asked Matteo, quickly.
I laughed.
'Certainly not. But still--'
'That's all right; because, of course, you know it's notorious that shehas had the most disgraceful amours. And she hasn't even kept them toher own class; all sorts of people have enjoyed her favours.'
'She does not look very much like a Messalina,' I said, sneering alittle.
'Honestly, Filippo, I do think she is really very little better than aharlot.'
'You are extremely charitable,' I said. 'But don't you think you aresomewhat prejudiced by the fact that you yourself did not find her one.Besides, her character makes no particular difference to me; I reallycare nothing if she's good or bad; she is agreeable, and that is all Icare about. She is not going to be my wife.'
'She may make you very unhappy; you won't be the first.'
'What a fool you are!' I said, a little angrily. 'You seem to think thatbecause I go and see a woman I must be dying of love for her. You areabsurd.'
I left him, and soon found myself at the Palazzo Aste, where DonnaGiulia was waiting for me. I had been to see her nearly every day sincemy arrival in Forli, for I really liked her. Naturally, I was not inlove with her as Matteo suggested, and I had no intention of enteringinto that miserable state. I had found her charmingly simple, verydifferent from the monster of dissipation she was supposed to be. Shemust have been three or four-and-twenty, but in all her ways she wasquite girlish, merry and thoughtless, full of laughter at one moment,and then some trifling thing would happen to discompose her and shewould be brought to the verge of tears; but a word or caress, even acompliment, would make her forget the unhappiness which had appeared soterrible, and in an instant she would be wreathed in smiles. She seemedso delightfully fragile, so delicate, so weak, that one felt itnecessary to be very gentle with her. I could not imagine how anyonecould use a hard word to her face.
Her eyes lit up as she saw me.
'How long you've been,' she said. 'I thought you were never coming.'
She always seemed so glad so see you that you thought she must have beenanxiously awaiting you, and that you were the very person of all othersthat she wished to have with her. Of course, I knew it was anaffectation, but it was a very charming one.
'Come and sit by me here,' she said, making room for me on a couch; thenwhen I had sat down, she nestled close up to me in her pretty childishway, as if seeking protection. 'Now, tell me all you've been doing.'
'I've been talking to Matteo,' I said.
'What about?'
'You.'
'Tell me what he said.'
'Nothing to your credit, my dear,' I said, laughing.
'Poor Matteo,' she answered. 'He's such a clumsy, lumbering creature,one can see he's spent half his life in camps.'
'And I? I have spent the same life as Matteo. Am I a clumsy, lumberingcreature?'
'Oh, no,' she answered, 'you are quite different.' She put thepleasantest compliments in the look of her eyes.
'Matteo told me all sorts of scandal about you.' She blushed a little.
'Did you believe it?'
'I said I did not much care if it were true or not.'
'But do you believe it?' she asked, insisting.
'If you'll tell me it is not true, I will believe absolutely what yousay.'
The little anxious look on her face gave way to a bright smile.
'Of course, it is not true.'
'How beautiful you are when you smile,' I remarked irrelevantly. 'Youshould always smile.'
'I always do on you,' she answered. She opened her mouth, as if about tospeak, held back, as if unable to make up her mind, then said, 'DidMatteo tell you he made love to me once, and was very angry because Iwould not pick up the handkerchief which he had condescended to throw.'
'He mentioned it.'
'Since then, I am afraid he has not had very much good to say of me.'
I had thought at the time that Matteo was a little bitter in his accountof Donna Giulia, and I felt more inclined to believe her version of thestory than his.
'He has been beseeching me not to fall in love with you,' I said.
She laughed.
'Claudia Piacentini has been telling everyone that it is too late, andshe is horribly jealous.'
'Has she? Matteo also seemed certain I was in love with you.'
'And are you?' she asked suddenly.
'No!' I replied with great promptness.
'_Brutta bestia!_' she said, throwing herself to the end of the couch,and beginning to pout.
'I am very sorry,' I said, laughing, 'but I cannot help it.'
'I think it is horrid of you,' she remarked.
'You have so many adorers,' I said in expostulation.
'Yes, but I want more,' she smiled.
'But what good can it do you to have all these people in love with you?'
'I don't know,' she said, 'it is a pleasant sensation.'
'What a child you are!' I answered, laughing.
She bent forward seriously.
'But are you not at all in love with me?'
I shook my head. She came close up to me, so that her hair brushedlightly against my cheek; it sent a shiver through me. I looked at hertiny ear; it was beautifully shaped, transparent as a pink shell.Unconsciously, quite without intention, I kissed it. She pretended totake no notice, and I was full of confusion. I felt myself blushingfuriously.
'Are you quite sure?' she said gravely.
I got up to go, foolishly, rather angry with myself.
'When shall I see you again?' I asked.
'I am going to confession to-morrow. Be at San Stefano at ten, and wecan have a little talk in the church when I have finished.'