The Chronicle of Clemendy/Signor Piero Latini's Tale

by Arthur Machen

HOW THE DUKE OF SAN GUILIANO WAS MADE BUILD A HIGH WALL

UPON THE northern slope of the Mountain di San Giuliano a good many stones have been piled together and erected into walls and towers, the which taken together make up a considerable castle, and seem to have been well arranged, for they show no signs of old age or decay, though they have stood there for five hundred years and more. This fine building is the nest of the Dukes of San Giuliano, who trace their line very far back, and are mixed up with the old Patricians and pagan knights, till at last you find yourself in a thick brake on a Sabine hill, the which brake is the resort of a nymph or some such special wanton, and here civil people stop short, for it is well known these nymphs did not relish being peeped at, and were used to be respectfully spoken of. And inquisitive intermeddling personages who wished to know more than other people they taught manners and afflicted them grievously, turning them into stags, softening their brains, and altogether making examples of them, so that others might clearly understand that nymphs are best left alone. Wherefore we will not enquire further into the far-back affairs of this noble house; but merely say that they chose the mountain for their abode so long ago as the time of the Emperor Charlemagne, and were continually strengthening their castle, building thick walls and running up high towers, until it became as safe a place as any in Tuscany, and very fit for the habitation of great princes who require retreats of this description wherein they can contemplate at their ease the silly passions of the common people and the violence of party spirit. Some of the Tuscan nobles have chosen to leave the brave old strongholds of their forefathers, and have come down to the cities in the vales, but the lords of San Giuliano knew better than this, and though they were always glad to see the townsfolk climb puffing and panting up the mountain side, and never failed to welcome them heartily if rudely, with spear-heads and arrow-shafts, they still clung to their battlements and gilt pinnacles above the broad mountain woods. They had noticed you see, that nobles who dwell in towns became townsfolk, and got involved in town disputes, and sometimes came off second best and had to sit below some stupid fat huckster who called himself Podesta, Gonfaloniere, or Consul, and tried to persuade himself and other people that they were on the whole a finer and more spirited sort of man than the old pagan Romans. This rubbish always made the Dukes of San Giuliano sick, and irritable in temper besides; and as I have said they took good care to stay up on the mountain and made it very hot climbing for anybody who wished to hang his cap on the vanes of the castle or to discover the thickness of the walls by the process of pulling them down. Duke Mark (who had to wife Yolande of Perpignan) was expecially averse to the townsfolk, and when they gave him any trouble, always burnt a village, without stopping to enquire whether it were the right one; and thus his neighbours grew to understand him and his odd ways, and agreed to let him go his own road. Fourth in descent from Duke Mark was Duke Guido, and he it is of whom I am about to devise, for searching in the byways of my brain I can find no better tale than this, which is still relished of cool evenings in the taverns of Tuscany, though the case fell out three hundred years ago, or maybe more. Now this Duke Guido di San Giuliano is confessed to have been a very witty and ingenious personage, and to have had a good knowledge of Grammar, Law, Logic, and Philosophy, and some say he smattered in Theology to boot; but I believe he was too wise a man to do so, since he must have known that our Holy Religion is under the charge of the Holy Father and the Cardinals who do not require any help in their duties. And they are quite right to keep these affairs right under their fists; for what should I say to a ploughboy who would teach me how to tune my lute, and for laymen to dispute over weighty matters of clergy is not a jot the wiser. But in all other learning I am convinced that the duke was far gone; and he had learnt the Greek tongue from one Argyropulo, a scholar from Byzantium, who was then in Italy, being an envoy from the Patriarch to the Pope. Also he showed great favour to those who did things in the vulgar speech, to painters and to skilful carvers, so that Monte di San Giuliano became our Italian Parnassus, and the castle the watch-tower of the Arts and Humanities. My lord had for wife a beautiful and illustrious lady, called Constance degli Interminelli, the same being of a right noble house, of an angelic comeliness, and endowed with a cheerful imagination which got fun out of everything and even out of her husband, who, in spite of his learning and good parts was somewhat gloomy and austere. And though this couple were well matched in years, yet they had no children, and people said that my lord spent his nights chiefly in mending and annotating Greek and Latin texts, and labouring to find out whether et ita or itaque was most to Tully's liking, and holding up old deeds and charters to the lamp to see if they were written over some golden work of the ancients. But the duchess never remonstrated with him or spoke angrily about his bad taste in preferring his parchments to his wife, for he was a young man, and she thought he would sow these learned oats of his and come to his senses before very long. And then, Constance would whisper to herself, my lord will notice my golden hair and blue eyes, and forget all about these heathens and their cold philosophy. She once tried meddling with his lamp, in such wise that it went out in a slow and sickly manner, just as the duke had taken out his manuscript of Homer, and was sitting down to make a night of it; but my lord flew into such a furious rage (being a choleric man when provoked) that this expedient was never again attempted. But after six years or more of this manner of living Constance perceived that her husband's case (and her own) was becoming desperate, and that some sharp remedy must be applied if things were to be mended, for the duke grew worse every day and began to stoop and peer and fumble about the castle all as if he had been a poor bachelor at the University, instead of being a very mighty prince, whose bearings the English Heralds would blazon in precious stones and jewells if not with the stars of heaven. This scholarly behaviour was certainly not worthy of one whose ancestors, the mighty nobles of the old time, had always been found where hard knocks were to be got, where the trumpets smote through the air, where the hammering of steel on steel was like the noise of a thousand smithies. And still less did it become my lord of San Giuliano thus to neglect his wife, seeing that the ancient princes of his line made no less of Venus than of her leman Monsignor Mars, and had loved so heartily that they furnished many a pleasant tale to the craftsmen of Paris who dressed their adventures up and tricked them out in fine language. Altogether you will agree with me that Constance had good ground for complaint and with those blue eyes and golden locks of hers had a just title to the duke's love and affection, especially since her only rivals were a lot of nasty mouldy parchments, which had much better have been left to perish decently in the black holes of the monasteries. And being purposed to cure her lord of his Ciceronianism by some means or another she consulted her ladies one summer evening, while they were walking together in the shady alleys that were all around the castle, as to how she should best make the duke to amend his ways and live more like a good Christian gentleman for the future. And they all said that to consider this matter it was necessary that they should be seated and at their ease, for it was a knotty question and the very mention of it made them warm. So they walked on until they came to a large and special seat, placed under a great oak, and most exquisitely cut out in marble, and adorned with admirable devices that had generated in the brain and were shapen by the chisel of a young gentleman of Florence employed by the duke in the beautifying of his castle. Then my lady took her place in the centre of this fine form, and the rest who were (most of them) dark beauties, sat down with much rustling of silk and satin on either side of her; the girls who could not find places lying down on the grass in all sorts of pretty postures, and thus this brave Parliament proceeded to debate. And as is usual with assemblies of this kind there was a great diversity of opinions, theories, speculations, and methods; some would have Constance smile more on her lord, beguile him with allurements, and gently draw him into the mesh of love: some were for frowns, black looks, and words of reproach; some for floods of tears, long drawn sighs, and a pitiful beseeching countenance. Francesca of Mantua, who was one of the Bedchamber women, counselled Constance never to leave the duke by night or day, but to be ever beside him; and Laura degli Cavalcante bade her go still abroad, and when she was at home, to keep her chamber "for so" said she, "my lord will feel the lack of you." But a girl named Agnes, who lay apart upon the ground, and had a face full of maliciousness and wit plainly told her mistress that there was only one cure for the duke's sickness; "and this," she said, "is for you to choose some young gallant from among the gentlemen of your court, and openly to show your kindness for him by pleasant words and by acceptance of his service; the which I warrant me will open my lord's eyes, and show him along what manner of road he is posting. This is a medicine I have known operate most marvellously, and unless I am much mistaken it will teach your husband that there is more wit in women than in Cicero, or any man at all, dead or alive." At this hardy speech Constance looked down and was thought to blush but ever so little, and the ladies agreed that though Agnes was young there was some tincture of sense in what she said, and that if my lady furnished her husband with a pair of horns he would have no right to be angry, since he had of his own acts and deeds (or rather the want of them) forfeited all his claims and privileges. But an old dame with white hair, who had seen a good deal of life, and knew that such remedies as these now and then turn out worse than the sickness itself and bring on bad complaints, advised Constance not to be hasty in the matter, but to send for some learned physician, and consult with him, and open up all her grief "since" (quoth the old dame) "the doctors understand these affairs better than anyone, and are often able to give comfort, when there seems to be no hope." And with this their session broke up, and the marble fauns at either end of the bench were left alone, to look slyly at one another as if they knew that there was mischief a-brewing. Perhaps unkind people would say that when a company of ladies plot schemes together, the results are not likely to be very salutary to anyone concerned; but this is an opinion to which I do not consent, since it proceeds from a bad source, namely from the brains of ugly men whose lips are so large that no girl will kiss them; hence it is evident that whatever comes from those lips aforesaid should be looked upon with suspicion and in most cases rejected. However that may be, it chanced next morning that the duchess was seized with a violent pain in the head, just as she came out from hearing Mass, and was borne fainting to her chamber and put to bed by her women, who at first did not perceive the trickery, for, to be short, it was nothing else. But the duke verily believed his wife to be in grievous case and, since he loved her well enough in his quiet way, sat down and wrote letters and sealed them with a curious seal he had, it being the likeness of a man in armour, with two snakes for feet, and his face turned away, driving four horses in a chariot: and on one side of him was a star, and on the other a half moon; this seal being artfully cut out in green jasper. The letters, thus sealed, were given into the hands of messengers, who rode swiftly, and in due course brought back with them to San Giuliano no less a person than the renowned physician Signor Albericus of Padua, whose consultations are still made much of and esteemed not only by doctors but by curious persons and lettered men, who find therein many strange diseases and witty cures, set down in grave and choice phrases, and enlivened by some flashes of mirth. This learned person having heard what the duke could tell him, was taken to Constance's chamber, and there left alone with her, because as he merrily said he was used to this kind of thing and might be trusted. And indeed he was a good distance on the wrong side of sixty, fat and rotund in person, and altogether not a man to make a jealous husband put his hand to his forehead, though the wife were never so beautiful. And so soon as the door was shut and the duke out of earshot, Constance eagerly began to pour her woes out before the good doctor, whose brain she bewildered with an infinity of feminine lamentations and prayers for aid. And when Albericus had heard the whole story and put the fragments all together, he perceived that he had got mixed up in rather a ticklish business, the which might possibly give him trouble and disturb his peace and quietness. And since he loved an easy life above everything, he determined to be wary in the matter and to keep a good look out for pitfalls; so when Constance began delicately to throw out hints about philtres and full-flavoured medicaments of the same kind, he cut her short by saying that his system of medicine did not allow of such remedies, which he affirmed to be of an uncertain and hazardous nature, the manner of whose operations it was impossible to predict. However, he promised to speak earnestly to her husband, and to admonish him that his wife required different treatment at his hands, or else would fade away like a flower shut out from the sun. The which promise Albericus faithfully fulfilled, and bade my lord look more into Constance's beautiful eyes and less into his manuscripts; "since," said he, "change of all things is sweet, and you, my lord duke, have surely had enough of yellow and black, and would do well to inspect and examine a little more closely that admirable red and white; in the which process you will discover more poetry, philosophy, science, and measured eloquence than there is in all the books of the ancients." I think this was excellent advice, and well worthy the author of the Consultations; but as it fell out the doctor made a slip which quite spoilt everything. For he thought to humour the duke by speaking to him in Latin, and strove to do so elegantly, and indeed he rounded off his periods very floridly and pompously, and avoided ending a sentence with a word of one syllable as is done in the Missal and Breviary. But unfortunately he used a word found only in very early writers and very late ones, which twanged so hideously in my lord's ears that he paid Signor Albericus his fee and sent him away without more ado, and read Cicero all night, like a man that has tasted an addled egg and must swill out his mouth with pure water and choice wine, to purify it. Hence Constance fared not a whit the better for the physician's counsel, for the duke made no account of a man who used such solecisms, and troubled himself the less when he heard that my lady went abroad again; and indeed she found staying in bed dull work enough. And it seems likely that Constance began to weigh in her mind what that mischievous Agnes had advised, for she was observed to look curiously on the gentlemen of her court, now gazing at one and now at another, as if she wished to know which was most fit to be used as an emplaster. I mean a plaster of the fiery burning sort, concocted out of the most furious virtuous mustard, to be laid on Duke Guido's heart, and to draw out the love that doubtless was there. And it must be confessed, that one could not wish to see a more gallant company of young gentlemen than that which sat down at the ducal table, for they were gathered from all the most noble and illustrious families of Italy, and thought it honour to call themselves the servants of so mighty a prince as my lord of San Giuliano. In fact Constance must have been very hard to please if she could not have fancied one or other of them; since they ranged in age from fourteen up to forty, and were nearly all gentlemen of pleasant manners and few scruples, who would have done a great deal at the command of their master, and in point of fact adored their mistress and grew rapturous over her rare beauty, as is the manner of Italian nobles, who are wanting in moderation. So you may guess that if Constance had bent her little finger in the direction of one of these gallants, she might have had him body and soul, for life and death; but it seems that for some reason or another she passed over all this gay silken company, and left them to content themselves with such divinities of lesser rank as they could propitiate and make look kindly on them. And after these fine gentlemen there were artists whom the duke entertained, namely artists in marble, and metal-work, and colour, some of them being young and proper men, and besides their craft-skill, of sharp wit and good address. There was for example Messer Belacqua the painter, who was limning Domesday above the altar of the chapel in fresco, and marshalling on the high space of wall all ancient prophets and patriarchs, apostles, elders, martyrs, and the virgins feeding amidst lilies, all in solemn order and degree by their companies, and the strong and most awful angels were flying forth from the throne under their captain St. Michael to set this last assize. But the glory of the colours it is impossible to describe, for they were of the sunlight and the blue sky of heaven, and the red clouds of the Northern Light. And the painter Belacqua was a sweet courteous gentleman, a lover of fair ladies, and would have been well content to serve the duchess in any fashion, but certainly would have most blithely assisted her in the way of making the duke jealous. Yet she passed him and his fellows by and made an odd choice, which proves her to have had a good heart, as some think, and as others declare, a mighty weak head. For she needs must pick out a little scholar and poet, Luigi Cortanto by name, who was not held in much esteem by anybody, being of a low family, as poor as a rat, and of a small insignificant figure. Besides these defects he was a quiet and shy sort of a man, who was happiest when people would leave him alone either with his lamp, his papers and his ink, or in some cool alley or arbour where he could pace up and down with his eyes on the ground, or sit dreaming and imagining those choice conceits which have earned an eternal glory for him. And the duke had summoned him to San Giuliano and entertained him there, because of some verses in the Greek language made by this Luigi aforesaid, the which were so artfully conceited and ingeniously made out that they were published among all the lettered men of Italy, and so mightily enchanted my lord that he must needs have the author at his castle. But in fact Messer Contanto did not himself esteem highly this kind of work, for his whole delight was in a Book of Pastoralls in the speech of Tuscany; the which he was fashioning with sweet and mellifluous eloquence after the model of Virgil the great master. And this piece it is which has kept his name alive and is to this day a fragrant memorial of him, but then all these pastoral songs were known only to himself, and were hidden in a chest in his cell at San Giuliano. Who then was surprised but Messer Luigi when his mistress began to make sweet eyes at him, and to let glances fall in his way that no man might mistake; since he thought his cassock was shabby enough to keep off all darts of Love, and had been used to look at Constance from a great distance, below all the fine gentlemen and young nobles of the court. And certainly it did not seem likely that this beautiful lady would take the trouble to climb up the many stairs that led to the poet's chamber, and lighten his dark room with the golden glory of her hair, and the rays from those deep blue eyes of hers: when there was such brave lodging to be had on the ground floor amid silk and velvet and all manner of rich furniture. But one can never get at the Rhyme and Reason of Love, whose decrees are not to be questioned nor reformed, one must only bow the head and say 'So be it' without enquiring into the why and wherefore. And perhaps Constance saw something in Luigi's features not visible to other people at that time; I mean, all those sweet amorous conclusions and gracious meditations which you may find in the twelve books of "Il Pastor Intronato", which, as I have said, were fashioned with such curious and painful art that they have never been surpassed nor equalled by any of our Tuscan poets. But let the reasons be what they may, it became very plain to Luigi that those swift glances were meant for none but himself, and before long he shyly ventured to return them, and was not less than rapturous when one day the duchess drew him apart before all her ladies and courtiers, and walked with him in the garden, though, indeed, he could find but little wit wherewith to answer all the pleasant speeches and delicate little compliments of his noble mistress. But that malicious maiden Agnes laughed, for she saw that her counsel was being taken after all; and then laughed again saying to herself "Truly these great ladies make an odd choice." As for the poet, his ideas and rational faculties were in a very confused state, and obscured, pleasantly enough, by golden and rosy-coloured clouds which floated in his brain; but before the actual sun had set that night, the sun of love rose for poor Luigi and began to shine upon him and to scorch his heart with a heat that was of the noonday. And whereas the duchess had merely intended to make her husband's conscience prick him, she had made this fierce flame of love lighten the poor scholar, kindling in his breast all manner of desires and cravings which poverty had hitherto effectually subdued, and illuminating his cell with the blaze of that ardent lamp which chows everything so plainly. But her husband made no account of Constance's kindness to Messer Luigi, nor is it clearly ascertained that he so much as saw it, though it became every day more evident to the ladies and nobles of the Court, who began to think there must be rather more in the poor poet than they had suspected. And so long as this strangely matched couple merely sauntered about the walks of the garden before the eyes of all, I don't think much harm was done, though Luigi's compliments were getting rather high-flown and fetched from a tremendous distance, and Constance looked more and more softly upon him, perceiving that his mind was lovelier than his body, though even in this latter she tried to see some excellence and worship. But when it came to the mistress and her servant dropping far behind the rest in their walks along the alleys, I believe the duke would have done well to take some order with them, and to become jealous as was expected of him. But he had peered so long at his manuscripts that he had become rather shortsighted in other affairs; so that Constance and Luigi by slow degrees became lovers in real earnest on both sides, instead of on one only, as it had been at the beginning. I know not precisely how, when, or where this was declared between them, or if it were ever so declared, since the fair dialects of passion in those days led noble lovers onward by fine phrases and Platonical sentiments, so that all abrupt and sudden falls from friendship into love were avoided, and from Ville des pensées to Chasteau de par amours was a brave road through a delicious country, abounding in sunlit meadows, shady groves and rippling brooks, thrilling with the song of nightingales. Imagine then, I pray you, my beautiful Constance, (who assuredly must have carried in her bosom a wonderful spell against Sirius, for that malefic star could not hurt her nor scorch her red and white), and the little dark man with hungry eyes in his dingy scholar's vestments walking hand in hand (ah! how fiercely pressed together) down the long road; and halting now and again for a little while in the arbours by the way. But mark, now the poor poet leads and beckons Constance to hasten onward, and she cannot disobey him, and had he bade her kiss him before the whole court I verily believe she would not have refused, since he was her Lord Paramount and held that enchanting body with all its loveliness bound fast in his service. In short they reached the valley together and mounted up unto the wonderful Chasteau de Par Amours, where, certes, there is choice entertainment and soft lodging; musick too from horns, harps, and vyalls to pierce the heart; and deambulatories in rose-gardens and along incredible galleries hanging from the summits of pinnacled tower and of stony wall. But alas! one must pay one's shot for all this, the musick turns at last to sickness and fear, there's nightshade amidst the rose hedges, and sharp rocks below those high hanging ways. What shall I say of the overshadowed parliaments in the woods, their countersigns and secret signals to one another, and of the times when Constance, full of shame yet fuller of love, went stealthily in the dead of night along dark passages by the savage warriors of the arras, and up the long weary winding stair to Luigi's chamber? Once Duke Guido met her and asked her what she did at such an hour, but the keen wit of a woman in love easily found an excuse to satisfy her husband, so the revelling at the Castle went on gaily. You see all her notions of winning her husband's love had quite fallen into forgetfulness, and she thought only of enjoying Luigi's, wondering dimly, now and then, as she lay in his arms, at her old innocent life, but never desiring that it might come back. For when it has come to this pass, and the drawbridge of the castle has been drawn up, a woman who is sharp-witted knows that there is no returning: the card is on the board and may not be taken again. How this strange affair would have ended, if it had been left alone, is more than I can tell, but I suspect Luigi would have tired of his mistress, and have gone back quite easily and contentedly to his garret in Florence, there to put the last finish to his pastoral pieces and then to set them forth. For now he wrote verses no more, being his brain was burnt up and adust with hot passion, which could not find voice in the calmly measured and perfect sweetness of duly chosen words. But it fell out that a gentleman of the Court, near akin by blood to the Marquis of Mantua, who had formerly pressed Constance hard to no avail, and was now the lover of Agnes, by the intelligence this girl gave him, and his own wit, had come to understand how things were going between his mistress and Messer Luigi, and spied upon them constantly. In this gallant there was only one fault, and that a fixed habit of keeping old insults and bad turns in a warm, dry corner of his heart, whence every night and morning he brought forth these commodities, looked at them, and returned them again, till the time came to give them back to their rightful possessors. And since he had taken Constance's refusal of his love very grievously and had long cherished a sincere desire of crying quits with her, he began to see daylight, and to say, like the rest of the courtiers, that the poor scholar was after all an admirable sort of man; for through him he saw a door leading to the sweet desert of vengeance. And by dint of hiding in the trees by the most retired alleys, lurking behind arbours, and in the recesses of the castle stairs he was soon able to make out a very pretty process of arraignment, for he became a party to the plot, which before was only known to Luigi and Constance, and the marble satyrs, and the mighty warriors waving on the arras. Thus he felt himself in good company, and was observed by his friends to be in high spirits, for generally he had the repute of being somewhat gloomy and of sullen conversation. Indeed this gentleman enjoyed himself greatly in these days, and needed no fire of cold nights, for he warmed his heart with the view of a rare revenge, worthy of his ancestry and noble bearings, and well befitting an illustrious house. But he waited for some time that there might be no mistake or bungling in the matter, since he knew that a trifling miscalculation might cost him his head and leave Constance and her sweetheart to make merry at his expense above ground, while he would be taking his ease in Phlegethon below. And to make everything complete he entered into close acquaintance with Luigi, and by dint of flattery and his knowledge soon heard the whole tale from the scholar's own mouth, and applauded him mightily, only bidding him consider how various and unstable were all earthly concernments, especially those which appertained to the Lordship of Love. At last all was in train and the noble gentleman of Mantua had arranged in his mind the time, place and manner of his repaying to Constance this his just debt. You must understand then, that in the gardens of the castle of San Giuliano there was a great and admirable labyrinth or Siege of Troy, contrived of laurels, cypresses, and box trees, with windings in and out, turnings, returnings, dæedal wanderings and perplexed passages, almost beyond conceit or imagination. And in the courses of the maze were arbours here and there with seats for them to rest awhile, who took the pains to tread these windings; and many of these trees were cut into the fantastic similitude of towers and castle walls, strange monstrous beasts, and symbols of secret meaning. And at the entrance was a stone pillar, about four feet in height, and on the top was this legend:

Hic quem Creticus edit Daedalus est Luberinthus,
De quo nullus vadere quivit qui fuit intus,
Ni Theseus gratis Ariadne stamine jutus.

And in the midst of the labyrinth was a very fair and pleasant bower of box, with the likenesses of peacocks, foxes, pheasants, and doves devised in the topiary manner, and a seat of marble very exquisitely carved. Now this place was often resorted to by Constance and the scholar, who were never weary of tracking out its windings in company, and had found out a secret concerning it; namely that one of the hedges was in fact double and had within itself a passage, which might only be entered by pressing down a bough at a certain place; and when they had gone in they perceived that none who passed by could spy them out since the green walls on either side were thick and impenetrable. And you may guess that they often came hither, for it seemed a very secure place; but so did the noble gentleman of Mantua who had enough craft to see rather than to be seen, and marked the trick of the bough to a nicety, while the lovers thought there was not a soul within the whole labyrinth. But in the cool of a memorable day this gentleman contrived so that Duke Guido should walk with him in the garden, and as they paced up and down he showed his master what kind of a wife Constance was, speaking softly with picked words, and using no sort of violence or indignation. At first the duke would believe none of it and began to frown in a fashion that made the courtier grow sick and pass his hand to the back of his neck, for he seemed to feel the rope squeezing and the first prick of the axe at the same time. But nevertheless he gave the duke such proofs and insisted so on what he had said that my lord began to grow uneasy in his turn, and at last said "Are you able to show me them together in such wise that I cannot fail to be convinced?" And the gentleman answered "Come with me." So he took this poor husband toward the Siege of Troy and led him in, and then along the wandering endless passages, between the high green hedges, now to the right and now to the left, and stopped at last before a smooth wall of box and pointed with his finger as if to say the lovers were within it. But the duke himself knew not of this cranny, and would have spoken, but the gentleman held up his hand again and drew his sword. Then he slowly and warily put down his hand among the leaves and caught the bough with a grasp like a smith's vice: and in an instant had torn it away so that the duke saw Constance his wife and Luigi Cortanto the scholar with their lips hard set together, and their arms around one another's necks. And the gentleman thought that his master would have leapt in and made short work of them both, and had turned away, for he rather liked the scholar and had no particular wish to see him die violently, only he listened for Constance her death scream. But the Duke did not so much as draw his sword; merely looking once into his wife's eyes, and then going back, he took hold of the gentleman's arm and led him forth. But when they had again come to the entrance my lord of San Giuliano put his finger on top of the pillar and pointed to the line De quo nullus vadere qui fuit intus, and said no more but only bade the courtier go to the castle and fetch an hundred men-at-arms to that place. This done, the soldiers were set all round the labyrinth, and their charge was to keep close watch, and if anyone strove to come out, by no means to kill but merely to push them back again within the maze. And the duke likewise sent messengers to the officers over all the townships within his lordship, to what intent you shall presently understand. Thus the hanging gallery of the Chasteau de Par Amours had fallen beneath Constance and her lover, and they were now tasting the points of the rocks beneath. But how they fared together, whether they reproached or consoled one another is not known, only before long one of the soldiers heard a rustling in the leaves opposite to him, and Luigi's head came out. And seeing the men-at-arms made no sign of hurting him the poor poet gave a whistle and a swift pattering of feet came along the passage inside the labyrinth. Then Luigi began slowly to ease himself out, and still the soldier did nothing, but when he was clear of the hedge and had turned to help Constance, the man seized him by his neck and pushed him back again by force, so that all his struggling could not keep him on the right side of his prison, and while he was doing this the pikeman heard someone's breath caught sharply, and a noise like sobbing. And once or twice Luigi tried to escape that night and put his head out as before, and saw standing by each soldier a serving man holding a great torch, and neither said anything, but let him painfully work his way out as before, and then thrust him back. And just as the sun set at the close of the next day the messengers the duke had sent began to return, and with them came companies of men, whom my lord himself received, and showed them where they might get stones, rough and smooth, for these fellows were masons. Straightway they went to their work, and as more came, they too fell to their tools, and at midnight many score of men were a-labouring by torchlight, and a place had been made ready for the foundations of a wall right around the maze. Nor was there any delay, but the stones were set one above other, and compacted with mortar, and still the men-at-arms stood in their order, but Luigi only came out once more. And it chanced that as he did so the duke stood opposite to him by the wall which was beginning to rise above the earth, and the poet looked into the eyes of his lord and went back of his own will into the windings of his prison. But the duke remembered the old saw "God keep you from the eye of a lettered man," and knew that the masons might set about his own tomb also. Nevertheless he made no sign, and night and day the work went on; and the guard was changed, and none in the castle dared to ask a question, or so much as to see the wall before their eyes, for by this time everybody was aware that Duke Guido was a chip of the old block, whose answers would be a gibbet and a rope. But the gentleman who had played the spy, and given the duke his information, had grown gloomy and sour again, for he was obliged to confess to himself that this vengeance of his master's was more curiously and choicely invented than anything he had conceited of; and this thought mortified him and made him wish he had not interfered in the matter, since he could not bear to be in any wise surpassed. To be short, before a week had passed the labyrinth was shut in by a great wall forty feet in height, without doorway or entrance, only in the place over against the pillar there was cut the line from it Nemo vadere quivit qui fuit intus in fair and deep letters on a smooth ashlar. Then the masons received six times the price of their labour and were sent back again to their several towns, and the guard was kept no longer, since there was not likely to be anyone inside who was able to climb that lofty wall. And about three months after this fine monument of love was concluded, Duke Guido caught the pestilence and died miserably, for Luigi had looked upon him, and woe is ever in store for them upon whom hath fallen the eye of a lettered man. But the noble gentleman of Mantua went up to the poet's chamber, and in a mournful meditative way, began to burst open his chests and to ransack his wallets, for indeed he was sorry for the poor scholar, against whom he had no grudge. "Alas! alas!" murmured he to himself, "all the evil that we men suffer in this vale of misery must be put down to the wickedness and devilish entanglements of the women. And now this Constance hath made three honest gentlemen to suffer for her sins, and hath killed two outright. Truly it were well for us poor silly men, if there were no women in the world." Sadly and pensively musing in this wise the noble gentleman ran through all Luigi's papers; for he loved good letters and understood well how to distinguish choice writing from mean. And when he came to "Il Pastor Intronato," and saw what a rarest work of art was in his hands, he well-nigh wept, saying: "Alack! alack! a very admirable poet, a gentle witty clerk; dear soul, and he's come to this pitiful end, and through a woman's wanton, wicked ways." And thus it was by this gentleman's hands that this delicious piece of Luigi's was set forth, and remains, as I have said, a fragrant and everlasting memorial of him, together with the great stone wall around the miz-maze of San Giuliano. The which stands there to this day, and none has ever climbed it, nor entered the labyrinth; and so it is not known at all how the lovers lie, or whether they met their doom together or apart. But I must tell you that when Duke Guido's brother who came after him had been seised of the Lordship of San Giuliano for a year or so, the malicious rout of certain cities sub-adjacent began again their old villainous seditions, clamouring that the bodies of the lovers should be buried with rites of Holy Church, and the monstrous wall thrown to the ground; and thence fell once more to their rubbish about the Romans, talking of the Tarquins, Gracchi, tyrants, tribunes, and the devil knows what infernal nonsense besides. And in their blustering speeches they confounded dates so scandalously, and got Roman History into such a woeful muddle that Duke Antony (who like his brother was something of a scholar and precisian) became annoyed, and was obliged to take a leaf out of Duke Mark's book, and to remind his subjects, by means of fire, sword, and halter, that all their pagan Pompeys and Brutuses had been put under the sod a long time ago. And as to the wall I have seen it with mine eyes, and it is indeed a very special wall.

No sooner had Piero brought his story to an end than Messer Mosca drew out from his wallet a bottle, round bellied and thin necked, and gave it to me bidding me to drink and pass it round. And when we had emptied it of its fragrant, oily juice Giacomo Corelli began to chide Piero for his lack of art in telling the tale, "since," said he, "you should have enlarged upon the shadowy terrors of Constance's midnight journeys to her lover, and have made the warriors of the arras play her all manner of tricks, as is customary in Romances. Likewise you fell short in the building of the wall, and did not hold your torches on high and make them flame and smoke and cast strange lights around, nor did you cause the harness of the men-at-arms to glitter, nor the moon to shine with a calm golden effulgence on that fantastic scene." "I have told the tale as I received it," answered Piero, "and all these graces that you speak of can very easily be conceived by the hearers, without the trouble of recounting them, since such ornaments are, as you say, common to all romances." "And now, sirs," broke in Coppo Cacci, the cunning player of the violin, "it is time for you to pay your shot, and this you shall do by devising us some history of your own country, and in no other way whatsoever." "Nay," said Nick Leonard, "we will content you in both ways, for I am in the humour to tell a merry case, and I think I have one in my head which will be found not altogether unpleasant, though it is but an old song." And Andrea answered, "We listen and await your musick, for I expect it will be no less."