The Viceroys (5 page)

‘Poor princess!… It was too much for her … And the Signor Prince left at once!'

As they passed through a row of antechambers with gilt doors but almost bare of furniture, Don Giacinto exclaimed in a low voice, as if in church:

‘'Tis a disaster indeed!… A bigger one for this family than for any other …'

And Don Mariano confirmed in as low a voice, with a shake of the head:

‘She led 'em all, kept the whole thing going!…'

On entering the Yellow Drawing-room they stopped after a few steps, unable to make anything out in the dark. But they were guided by the Princess Margherita's voice:

‘Don Mariano … Don Giacinto …'

‘Princess!… Ah, dear lady … How are you bearing up? And Lucrezia?… Consalvo?… The girl?'

The little prince, sitting on a stool, with his legs dangling, was swinging them to and fro, staring in the air with his mouth open. In the corner of a sofa, apart, Lucrezia was crouched, dry-eyed.

‘But how did it happen, all so suddenly?' Don Mariano kept on asking.

The princess flung out her arms and said:

‘I don't know … I don't understand … Salvatore just came from the Belvedere with a note from Signor Marco … there on that table, look at it … Giacomino left at once.' Then in a low voice, turning to Don Mariano as the other read the note, she added, ‘Lucrezia wanted to go too, but her brother said no … What could she have done there?'

‘Just made more confusion!… the prince was right …'

‘Not a thing!' announced Don Giacinto, after reading the note, ‘it doesn't explain a thing! Have the others been told?… Cables been sent?…'

‘I don't know … Baldassarre …'

‘What a death, all alone, without a child or relation near her!' exclaimed Don Mariano, unable to take it all in; but Don Giacinto continued:

‘It's not their fault, poor things!… They've clear consciences.'

‘If she'd wanted us …' began the princess timidly, in a lower voice. Then, almost as if frightened, she did not end the phrase.

Don Mariano drew a sad sigh and went up to the girl.

‘Poor Lucrezia! What a tragedy!… You're right!… But take heart! Courage!…'

She, who was sitting staring at the floor and tapping a foot, raised her head with a bemused look as if not understanding. Then, a clatter was heard of carriages entering the courtyard, and Don Mariano and Don Giacinto began exclaiming in turns:

‘What an irreparable disaster!'

In came the Marchesa Chiara with her husband, and also Cousin Graziella.

‘Lucrezia, your mama!… sister!… cousin!…'

On their heels was Aunt Ferdinanda, whose hands the women kissed, murmuring:

‘Excellency!… You've heard?…'

The gaunt old spinster nodded. Sobbing, Chiara embraced Lucrezia, the marchese gave the two hangers-on a subdued greeting; but Donna Graziella was most moved of all:

‘It just doesn't seem true!… I just couldn't believe it! To die like that!… What about poor Giacomo? They say he rushed straight off up there?… Poor cousin!… If only he'd been in time to close her eyes!… What sorrow for him not to have been in time to see her again!…' Hearing Chiara sobbing on her sister Lucrezia's bosom, she exclaimed, ‘That's right, let yourself go, my poor child! One has only one mother!…'

So sorrow-struck did she seem by her cousins' tragedy as even to forget that the dead woman was her own mother's sister. Proffering help to the princess, she drew her aside and said:

‘D'you need anything?… Would you like me to give a hand?… How's my goddaughter?… What message did my cousin leave?…'

‘I don't know … He gave Baldassarre orders …'

Baldassarre in fact was rushing up and down, sending more messengers, seeing those returning from their commissions. All the relations were now told; only the messenger sent to the Benedictines came to say that Father Don Lodovico was about to arrive, but that Father Don Blasco was not in the monastery.

‘Go to the Cigar-woman's … he'll be with her at this time of day … Hurry up, tell ‘im his sister-in-law's dead.'

Don Lodovico arrived in the San Nicola carriage. In the Yellow Drawing-room all rose at the appearance of the Prior. Chiara and Lucrezia went towards him, each took one of his hands, and the marchesa fell on her knees and burst out with:

‘Lodovico!… Lodovico!… Our poor mama.'

All were silent, looking at that group. Cousin Graziella with red eyes was murmuring:

‘It tears the heart-strings!'

The Prior bent over his sister, raised her without looking her in the face, and in the general silence broken by short repressed sobs, said, raising dry eyes to heaven:

‘The Lord has called her to Him. Let us bow our heads before the decrees of Divine Providence …' And as Chiara tried to kiss his hand, he withdrew it.

‘No, no, sister …' And he drew her to his breast and kissed her on the forehead.

‘'Tis our lot!…' Don Giacinto exclaimed sadly in Don Mariano's ear, but the latter shook his head and moved forward with a resolute air:

‘Enough now, please!… The dead are dead, and no weeping will bring them to life … Consider your health now, that's the important thing …'

‘Yes, take courage, you poor dears!' added Cousin Graziella, taking her cousins by the hand, and lovingly forcing them to sit down. Meanwhile the marchese was kissing his wife on the forehead, drying her eyes, whispering in her ear, and Donna Ferdinanda, not much given to scenes of pathos, took the little prince on her knees.

Signor Marco's note passed from hand to hand. The Prior now announced his intention of leaving for the Belvedere too, but the two hangers-on protested.

‘What for?… Torture yourself for no purpose?… If there were any help to be given …'

‘Let me go!' added Cousin Graziella.

‘Let's just wait,' proposed the marchese. ‘Giacomo is bound to send some news …'

The arrival of another carriage made people think that someone had in fact arrived from the Belvedere. But it was the Duchess Radalì. As her husband was mad and she never paid visits, her prompt arrival drew more tenderness than ever from Cousin Graziella, who called her ‘aunt' though there was no relationship between them. But Donna Vincenza's return from San Placido brought emotion to its climax. The serving-woman could find no words to express the nun's sorrow, and clasped her hands with pity:

‘Poor girl! Poor dear girl!… Like a mad woman she is,
just like a mad woman … And calling out, “Sisters! Sisters!” …'

Now Lucrezia also was weeping, Chiara said between her sobs:

‘I'm going to the convent …'

‘Your Excellency would be doing holy work … The Mother Abbess too was sobbing, “the poor princess! a worthy servant of God!” '

Cousin Graziella offered to accompany her; then seeing the princess did not know where to turn:

‘I'd better stay and help Margherita,' she said to Chiara, and the latter got up, while everyone gave messages:

‘Give her a kiss from me … And from me … Tell her I'll come to see her tomorrow …' And Don Giacinto called out, ‘Marchese, marchese … Accompany your wife …'

Amid this confusion, while the marchesa was going off with her husband, Don Blasco at last appeared, his big face gleaming with sweat, and a tricorn on his head. He came in without a greeting to anyone, and exclaiming:

‘I said it, didn't I?… It was bound to end like this!'

No one replied. The Prior lowered his eyes to the floor as if looking for something. Donna Ferdinanda did not even seem to have noticed her brother's arrival. The monk began to walk from one end of the room to the other, mopping the sweat on his neck and still talking to himself:

‘Pig-headed!… pig-headed! To the very last!… To go and die in that twister's hands. I foretold it, eh?… Where is he? Hasn't he come? And to think he's master here!'

As no one breathed a word, Cousin Graziella took it on herself to observe:

‘Uncle, at such a moment …'

‘What's that mean, at such a moment?' replied the monk caught on the raw. ‘She's dead, may God glorify her!… But what's to be said about it? That she's done something wonderful?… And what about Giacomo?… Has he gone?… Has he gone alone?… Why does no one else go?… Has he forbidden others to go?…'

‘No, Excellency …' replied the princess timidly. ‘He left as soon as he heard the news.'

‘I wanted to go with him …' said Lucrezia, whereupon the Benedictine pounced on her:

‘You? What for? Always you women interfering! D'you think you are the only ones who can settle things?… Where's Ferdinando … Hasn't he come yet?'

At that moment arrived the Cavaliere Don Eugenio, and Don Cono Canalà, another of the hangers-on. Don Cono entered on tiptoe, as if afraid of breaking something, and stopping in front of the princess, waving his arms, exclaimed:

‘Immense calamity!… Immeasurable catastrophe!… Words die on lips …' while the Cavaliere read Signor Marco's note.

Meanwhile Don Blasco was wandering round like a spinning-top, stopping by doors, looking down the row of rooms, seeming to sniff the air as he muttered:

‘Such haste!… Such devotion!' and other, incomprehensible, words.

Within the group of relatives each was now giving his own opinion. The Prior, next to the duchess and to his Aunt Ferdinanda, was talking in a low voice about his mother's ‘unfortunate obstinacy', but every now and then, as if afraid of doing wrong by discussing the dead woman's wishes, however respectfully, he would interrupt himself and bow his head. Cousin Graziella was worrying about the lack of news from the Belvedere:

‘Giacomo could have sent someone down!…'

At this Don Eugenio offered to go up if a carriage was harnessed for him; then the princess, embarrassed and confused, did not know what to do, and observed in her cousin's ear:

‘I don't know … Giacomo may not like it …'

Then Donna Graziella intervened:

‘Let's wait a little longer; maybe Cousin Giacomo will return himself.'

The Prior and the duchess were now asking again:

‘What about Ferdinando? Why isn't he here?'

The hangers-on hurried off to question Baldassarre. The major-domo replied:

‘I did not send anyone to the Cavaliere Ferdinando, as the Signor Prince told me that he would pass by there himself.'

‘He may have gone to the Belvedere too … Or he'd be here by now.'

Anyway it took some time to reach the Pietra dell'Ovo; and in fact the marchesa returned first from the convent, having been given by her sister, the nun, a habit for the dead woman to wear.

‘Touching sign of filial piety!' murmured Don Cono to Don Eugenio.

No one else spoke in those moments of emotion; only Cousin Graziella, drying her red eyes, suggested into the princess's ear:

‘I'd like to take advantage of this moment to induce Uncle Blasco to make it up with Aunt Ferdinanda and Don Lodovico. What d'you say, Margherita?'

‘As you think … if you think … you do …'

And Cousin Graziella went to look for the monk. She could not find him, he had vanished. Baldassarrc, told to track him down, discovered him at the other end of the house, before a locked door leading to the dead woman's apartments. Hearing footsteps, the monk swung round.

‘Who's there?'

‘They are awaiting Your Paternity in the Yellow Drawing-room.'

The Benedictine turned back with a snort. Cousin Graziella came to meet him with a mysterious air and said:

‘Excellency, come and embrace your sister … and let Lodovico kiss your hand …' He turned his back and exclaimed out loud so that all could hear him even down in the courtyard:

‘Let's cut out the charades!'

Donna Graziella shrugged her shoulders, with a gesture of sad resignation.

The monk, noticing the marchese, who had returned with his wife from the convent, went up to him, seized him by an arm and pulled him into the Portrait Gallery.

‘What are you doing here?… Why haven't you left? The other one's gone …'

‘What for, Excellency?'

‘Will you always be a ninny? That other has gone there! By now he'll have made a clean sweep …'

‘Excellency!' protested his nephew, scandalised.

Don Blasco looked him in the whites of the eyes as if wanting to eat him. But then, as Baldassarre rushed by, he turned on his heels booming:

‘Ah, no? Go stew in your own juice, the lot of you …'

After giving all his orders to the servants, Baldassarre was now in a great rush, as messages began to arrive from more distant relatives, friends, and acquaintances who were sending to express their condolences and get news of the survivors. The major-domo received the more respectable messengers in the antechamber of the administrative offices, leaving servants to the porter; but many among these were bearers of funeral gifts: trays of cakes, jellies and chocolates, crystallised fruit, sponge cakes, bottles of muscatel and rosolio wine. Baldassarre went rushing round arranging these things, and announcing the gifts to the family, and thanking the givers, and giving audience to new arrivals. Cousin Graziella, with cupboard keys at her waist, was acting as mistress of the house, to save the princess. The Cavaliere Don Eugenio was also giving a hand, and although the hangers-on were working like domestics and protesting, ‘Leave things to us,' he was emptying trays to be returned, carrying their contents into the dining-room and every now and again thrusting a handful of sweets into his pocket.

In place of the Duchess Radali, who had left, being unable to leave her husband alone for long, another ten visitors arrived: the Baron Vita, the Prince of Roccasciano, the Giliforte and Grazzeri families, and Don Carlo Carvona, Cousin Graziella's husband. As the day wore on letters and notes of condolence poured in from all sides. The Royal Intendant sent to express his sorrow at the mourning of a family so devoted to the King and the good cause; the Bishop participated in his dear children's sorrow; from the Uzeda orphanage, the old folks' home, and the other charitable institutes founded or supported by the Francalanza family came rectors and chaplains, many a black cassock, or poor tenants themselves, but these were not allowed to go upstairs and had to express their regrets to the porter or the under-coachman. The Garrison Commander, the President of the High Court, all the authorities, the entire city came to
condole with the family. Groups of beggars waited in the hope of alms being distributed. Many people asked insistently for Signor Marco. Hearing that he had not yet come from the Belvedere, some went off to come back later; others began walking up and down in front of the palace, patiently waiting to catch him as he passed.