La famiglia dei Cenci
L’ultimo giorno di Pompeia
Cleopatra e i suoi amanti
La primavera veduta da una prigione
Il trionfo di Tasso.*5
“What is the esteemed public’s wish?” asked the humble Italian. “Will it set me one of the proposed subjects itself, or let it be decided by lot?”
“By lot!…” said a voice from the crowd.
“By lot, by lot!” the public repeated.
The improvisator again stepped down from the stage, holding the urn in his hands, and asked:
“Who would like to draw a theme?”
The improvisator passed a pleading glance over the first rows of chairs. Not one of the glittering ladies sitting there budged. The improvisator, unaccustomed to northern indifference, seemed to be suffering…Suddenly he noticed to one side a small white-gloved hand held up; he turned briskly and went over to a majestic young beauty who was sitting at the end of the second row. She rose without any embarrassment and with all possible simplicity lowered her aristocratic little hand into the urn and drew out a slip of paper.
“Kindly unfold it and read it,” said the improvisator. The beauty unfolded the paper and read aloud:
“Cleopatra e i suoi amanti.”
These words were uttered in a low voice, but such silence reigned in the room that everyone heard them. The improvisator bowed low to the beautiful lady with an air of deep gratitude and went back to his stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, addressing the public, “the lot has set me Cleopatra and her lovers as the subject of my improvisation. I humbly ask the person who chose this theme to clarify his thought for me: what lovers are we speaking of here, perché la grande regina n’aveva molto…”*6
At these words many of the men burst out laughing. The improvisator became slightly embarrassed.
“I wish to know,” he went on, “what historical particulars the person who chose this theme was hinting at. I would be very grateful if that person would please explain.”
No one was in a hurry to reply. Several ladies turned their gazes on the unattractive girl who had written a theme on her mother’s orders. The poor girl noticed this unfavorable attention and became so embarrassed that tears hung from her eyelashes…Charsky could not bear it and, turning to the improvisator, said to him in Italian:
“The proposed theme is mine. I had in mind the evidence of Aurelius Victor,6 who writes that Cleopatra supposedly set death as the price of her love, and that admirers were found who were neither frightened nor repulsed by this condition…It seems to me, however, that the subject is somewhat difficult…won’t you choose another?…”
But the improvisator already felt the god’s approach…He gave the musicians a sign to play…His face turned terribly pale; he trembled as if in a fever; his eyes flashed with a wondrous fire; he swept back his black hair with his hand, wiped a handkerchief across his high forehead, which was covered with beads of sweat…and suddenly made a step forward, crossed his arms on his chest…The music stopped…The improvisator began.
The palace shone. A resounding choir
Sang to the sounds of flute and lyre.
And with her voice and gaze, the queen
Enlivened the splendid banquet scene.
All hearts were straining toward the throne,
But suddenly came a change of tone:
Low to her golden cup she brought
Her wondrous head, now lost in thought.
Sleep seems to fall on the splendid feast,
Mute is the choir, hushed are the guests.
But once more she her brow does raise
And with a serene air she says:
“In my love you find heaven’s bliss?
But you must pay for such a tryst.
Hear me welclass="underline" I can renew
Equality between us two.
Who wants to enter passion’s deal?
I offer my sweet love for sale.
Who among you agrees to pay
His life for one night of such play?”
She spoke—and horror seized them all
And anguish held their hearts in thrall.
With a cold, insolent expression
She hears them mutter in confusion,
Scornfully she glances over
The circle of her would-be lovers…
But suddenly one man steps out,
And then two others, from the crowd.
Their tread is firm, their eyes are calm;
She rises and holds out her arm.
The deal is done, and, briefly wed,
Three men are summoned to death’s bed.
With the blessing of the priests,
There before the unmoving guests,
One by one three lots are drawn
Out of the dark and fateful urn.
First the brave soldier, Flavius,
Gone gray-haired in Roman service;
He found such high-and-mighty scorn
From a woman’s lips could not be borne;
He took the challenge of brief delight
As he had the challenge of fierce fight
In all his days and years of war.
Then Kriton, a young philosopher,
Born in the groves of Epicure,
Kriton, bard and worshipper
Of the Graces, Cyprus, and Amor…
The last one, pleasing to eye and heart
As a fresh-blown flower, played no part
In history and his name’s unknown.
His cheeks were covered with a first soft down;
His eyes with rapture gleamed, the force
Of inexperienced passion coursed
Through his young heart…With tenderness
The proud queen’s gaze on him did rest.
“I swear…—O mother of all delight,
I’ll serve you well and serve them right;
To the couch of passionate temptation,
I go as a simple boughten woman.
Then, mighty Cyprus, hear my word,
And you, kings of the nether world,
O gods of terrible Hades—know
That till the dawn begins to glow
I’ll weary with my sensual fires
All of my masters’ sweet desires
And sate them with my secret kiss
And wondrous languor—but I swear this:
Just when eternal Aurora spreads
Her purple robe above my bed,
The deadly axe will fall upon
The heads of all my lucky ones.”
*1 “Who is this man?” “Ah, he’s a great talent, he makes his voice into whatever he wants.” “Then he ought, madam, to make it into a pair of pants.” [From the French Almanach des calembours (1771). Translator.]
*2 “Sir…please forgive me if…”
*3 “Sir…I believed…I felt…Your Excellency must forgive me…”
*4 “Devil take it!” (Literally, “Body of Bacchus!”)
*5 The Cenci Family / The Last Day of Pompeii / Cleopatra and Her Lovers / Spring Seen from a Prison / The Triumph of Tasso.
*6 because the great queen had many of them…
The Captain’s Daughter
Look after your honor when it’s young.
PROVERB
CHAPTER ONE A Sergeant of the Guards
“Tomorrow he could well be a captain of the guards.”
“There’s no need for that; let him serve in the ranks.”
“Rightly said! Let him suffer a bit for his thanks.”