W. Somerset Maugham: Novels, Short Stories, Plays & Travel Sketches (33 Titles In One Edition). Уильям Сомерсет Моэм

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СКАЧАТЬ he owed me. And now he looks at me with frowns, me who have served him faithfully as a dog. I will not endure it; by God! I will not.' He clenched his fists as he spoke, trembling with rage.

      'And you know how he has served me,' said Checco. 'I have lent him so much that he has not the face to ask for more; and how do you think he has rewarded me? Because I have not paid certain dues I owe the Treasury, he sent a sheriff to demand them, and when I said I would not pay them at that moment, he sent for me, and himself asked for the money.'

      'What did you do?'

      'I reminded him of the money he owed me, and he informed me that a private debt had nothing to do with a debt to the State, and said that I must pay or the law should take its course.'

      'He must be mad,' said Matteo.

      'He is mad, mad with pride, mad in his extravagance.'

      'I tell you,' said Lodovico, 'it cannot be endured.'

      'And they tell me that he has said my tongue must be silenced,' added Checco. 'The other day he was talking to Giuseppe Albicina, and he said "Let Checco beware; he may go too far and find the hand of the master not so gentle as the hand of the friend!"'

      'I, too, have heard him say things which sounded like threats,' said Alessandro.

      'We have all heard it,' added Lodovico. 'When his temper overcomes him, he cares not what he says, and one discovers then what he and his silent wife have been plotting between them.'

      'Now, sir,' interrupted Checco, speaking to me, 'you see how things stand: we are on thin ground, and the fire is raging beneath us. You must promise not to seek further quarrel with this countryman of yours, this Ercole Piacentini. He is one of Girolamo's chiefest favourites, and he would not bear to see him touched; if you happened to kill him, the Count would take the opportunity to have us all arrested, and we should suffer the fate of the Pazzi at Florence. Will you promise?'

      'I promise,' I answered, smiling, 'to defer my satisfaction to a fitter opportunity.'

      'Now, gentlemen,' said Checco, 'we can separate.'

      We bade one another Good-night; Alessandro, as he was going, said to Matteo, 'You must bring your friend to my sister to-morrow; she will be glad to see you both.'

      We said we should be enchanted, and Alessandro and Lodovico Pansecchi left us.

      Matteo looked at Checco meditatively.

      'Cousin,' he said, 'all this looks very like conspiracy.'

      Checco started.

      'I cannot help it, if the people are dissatisfied with Girolamo.'

      'But you?' pursued Matteo. 'I imagine you do not greatly care whether the people are taxed or no. You knew the taxes would have to come on again sooner or later.'

      'Has he not insulted me by sending a sheriff to demand his dues?'

      'Is there nothing further than that?' asked Matteo, looking at his cousin steadily.

      Checco lifted his eyes and gazed back into Matteo's.

      'Yes,' he said at last; 'eight years ago I was Girolamo's equal, now I am his servant. I was his friend, he loved me like a brother—and then his wife came, the daughter of Francesco Sforza, the bastard—and gradually he has lifted himself up from me. He has been cold and reserved; he begins to show himself master; and now I am nothing more than a citizen among citizens—the first, but not the equal of the master.'

      Checco kept silence for a moment, and in his quietness I could see the violence of his emotion.

      'This concerns you as well as me, Matteo. You are an Orsi, and the Orsi are not made to be servants. I will be no man's servant. When I think of this man—this bastard of a pope—treating me as beneath him, by God! I cannot breathe. I could roll on the floor and tear my hair with rage. Do you know that the Orsi have been great and rich for three hundred years? The Medici pale before them, for they are burghers and we have been always noble. We expelled the Ordelaffi because they wished to give us a bastard boy to rule over us, and shall we accept this Riario? I swear I will not endure it.'

      'Well said!' said Matteo.

      'Girolamo shall go as the Ordelaffi went. By God! I swear it.'

      I looked at Matteo, and I saw that suddenly a passion had caught hold of him; his face was red, his eyes staring wide, and his voice was hoarse and thick.

      'But do not mistake again, Checco,' he said; 'we want no foreign rulers. The Orsi must be the only Lords of Forli.'

      Checco and Matteo stood looking at one another; then the former, shaking himself as if to regain his calmness, turned his back on us and left the room. Matteo strode up and down for a while in thought, and then, turning to me, said, 'Come.'

      We went out and returned to our hostelry.

      IV

       Table of Contents

       Next day we went to Donna Giulia's.

      'Who is she?' I asked Matteo, as we walked along.

      'A widow!' he answered shortly.

      'Further?' I asked.

      'The scandal of Forli!'

      'Most interesting; but how has she gained her reputation?'

      'How do I know?' he answered, laughing; 'how do women usually gain their reputations? She drove Giovanni dall' Aste into his grave; her rivals say she poisoned him—but that is a cheerful libel, probably due to Claudia Piacentini.'

      'How long has she been a widow?'

      'Five or six years.'

      'And how has she lived since then?'

      Matteo shrugged his shoulders.

      'As widows usually live!' he answered. 'For my part, I really cannot see what inducement a woman in that position has to be virtuous. After all, one is only young once, and had better make the best use of one's youth while it lasts.'

      'But has she no relations?'

      'Certainly; she has a father and two brothers. But they hear nothing or care nothing. Besides, it may be only scandal after all.'

      'You talked as if it were a fact,' I said.

      'Oh, no; I only say that if it is not a fact she is a very foolish woman. Now that she has a bad reputation, it would be idiotic not to live up to it.'

      'You speak with some feeling,' I remarked, laughing.

      'Ah,' answered Matteo, with another shrug of the shoulders, 'I laid siege to the fort of her virtue—and she sallied and retired, and mined and countermined, advanced and drew back, so that I grew weary and abandoned the attack. Life is not long enough to spend six months in politeness and flattery, and then not be sure of the reward at the end.'

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