Part 77 (1/2)
”And the Neapolitans?”
”Well, the Neapolitans,” said the host, laughing, ”the Neapolitans are, as you know, not renowned for their bravery; and if they do not love the great Frederick, they fear him. The Neapolitans are the children of Italy, knowing only that Naples is a beautiful city, and fearing a barbarian might come and devour it. In their terror they forget that no one is thinking of them, and that they are separated by Italy and the Alps from all warlike people. The king of Naples thinks it possible that Frederick may one day ascend Vesuvius with his conquering army and take possession of Naples. Since the king's last victories, Ferdinand has increased the number of his troops and doubled the guard in his capital.”
The host laughed so heartily at this account, that the stranger was irresistibly compelled to join him.
”The King of Naples is but a boy nine years old. His ministers are older than himself, and should know a little more geography, signor. But corpo di Bacco, here I am talking and talking of politics forgetting entirely that your excellency is doubtless hungry, and desires a strengthening meal.”
”'Tis true, I am a little hungry,” said the stranger, smiling.
”In a quarter of an hour the most splendid dinner, that the celebrated White Lion can prepare, shall be ready for you, signor,” cried the host, as he rushed hastily from the room.
The stranger gazed thoughtfully after him. ”It appears to me that I have been very fortunate in coming here; the good host seems to be a good Prussian, and I have learned more from him in a quarter of an hour than I would have done in a long journey through Italy. I shall now be able to act with zeal and energy. But I must not forget the role I have to play. I am a merchant trading with fans, curiosities, and relics, and very anxious to bring my wares to market.”
The entrance of the waiter interrupted him, and soon the savory dishes invited the traveller to refresh himself.
CHAPTER II. FREDERICK THE GREAT AS A SAINT.
”And now to business,” said the Traveller, when he had finished dining.
”It is high time I were on my way, if I am to leave this place to-day.”
He hastened to his trunk and took from it several bundles and packages, some of which he put in his pockets and some, like a true merchant, he carried under his arm. Then putting on his large, black felt hat, he turned to leave the room. In pa.s.sing the mirror he looked at himself, and broke out into a merry laugh at his appearance.
”Truly,” said he, ”I look like a veritable shop-keeper, and he who takes me for any thing else, must be of a more political turn of mind than my host, Signor Montardo, the Prussiano.”
He turned and left the room to obtain the address of some merchants and a guide from his host. In spite of remonstrances Signer Montardo insisted on accompanying him.
”Otherwise,” said he, ”some one might address you who is not on our side, and if you were then to show him your fans, there would be a fearful scandal; the other party is quite as hot-headed as we are, and many a pitched battle has taken place between the Teresiani and the Prussiani. Come, sir; I must accompany you. We will not go by the ca.n.a.l, but through the small by-streets; they will lead us quickest to the Riva di Schiavoni, and then to the Rialto, which is our destination.”
”Is that far from the convent of San Giovanni e Paolo?” asked the stranger.
”Ah, you are still determined to offer your relics to the abbot?” said the host, laughing.
”Yes, and hope to sell them.”
”Well, I wish you luck. The Rialto is not far from there. I will go with you until within the vicinity of the convent, but not farther.”
”And why not?”
”Because the door-keeper is a raging Teresiano, and would undoubtedly close the door in your face, were I at your side.”
”But did you not tell me the abbot was a Prussia, no?”
”Yes, the abbot, but the porter is not; nor are many of the monks, I am sorry to say.”
”Ah, even the monks are occupied with politics?”
”Signor,” cried the host, pathetically, ”every one here interests himself in politics; and when you hear that our little children are divided into Teresiani and Prussiani, you will credit me. There was a slight revolution yesterday in the Riva Peschiera. It was occasioned by a fishwoman's refusing to sell my cook some beautiful trout; she declared G.o.d had not created fish for the Prussiani, which, in her opinion, was another name for heathen and unbeliever. My cook insisted on having the fish, and, as unfortunately there were many Prussiani among the fishwomen, it soon came to hard words and still harder blows, and was terminated by the arrest of the princ.i.p.al disturbers.”