Part 31 (1/2)
”It hath been spoken of before, but since--since the treachery of the Council and--other things--and the most unbounded confidence by the Signoria reposed in me to uphold the Queen--I have sought more nearly to sift the causes of this disaffection. They seem to me to be not beyond conciliation.”
”'_Not beyond conciliation_,'” she echoed, ”it _seems_ to thee! It is a sad word to bring me of my people, Aluisi, since I would give my life for them.” Her eyes had filled with tears.
”It is sad, beloved Lady: but nothing is hopeless that is not finished.
Is it not better to see wisely than to ignore?--Let us be brave.”
She folded her hands very tightly for a moment, as if struggling with herself; then she lifted her eyes to his.
”Teach me,” she said. ”What wouldst thou?--Thou shalt verily be made one of the Counts of the Chamber, that I may know _one_ loyal among my Cyprian n.o.bles.”
”Nay, nay”--he made an effort to a.s.sume a lighter tone--”there is no need; else would it be wise to sail for Venice with the fleet of the Mocenigo! But, pardon me, fair Cousin; there is no need to bind _my_ loyalty with Cyprian t.i.tles and Cyprian lands. Let the Sovereign of Cyprus seek _her own n.o.bles_ for such favors.”
”Shall I stoop to _buy_ the people of my kingdom?” she asked, a little bitterly. ”Is this thy honorable counsel?”
He rose at once. ”My Cousin,” he said, ”thou art not thyself--thine anger doth color thy speech. I crave thy promise to listen fairly to my honest thinking--which it is not over-easy to bring thee.” He spoke compa.s.sionately.
”Forgive me, Aluisi; I listen.”
”Out of thy generous heart, thou wouldst have covered me--who am a Venetian--with Cyprian honors. I thank thee. But I will translate thee to thyself. Was it 'to buy my loyalty?'”
”Nay, nay--but of appreciation--to show thee grace. Thou knowest it, Aluisi!” Her repentance came swift and warm as that of a child.
”I know it well,” he answered heartily. ”Show but this thy grace to thy Cyprian n.o.bles and win them to thy court. They should come _first_ in favor of their Queen.”
”Have I been found lacking?” she asked, slowly; ”and if--and if there seemeth little to reward?”
”Reward that little openly, and there shall be more. Bethink thee: there hath been great honor shown the Mocenigo.”
”It was so ordered by the Republic,” she began in a tone of self-justification; then stopped with a sudden perception of his point.
”Was it for this, perchance, that the Cyprian n.o.bles came less heartily?” he pursued. ”Is there no honor that might yet be granted to that most n.o.ble knight, the Admiral Costanzo?”
”Whatever favor he would have is already his:--he was the friend of Ja.n.u.s and my own,” she answered in a tone of surprise that was almost indignant. And then, with a lingering on the words that was indescribably pathetic, she added:
”Ja.n.u.s hath written of him, '_Nostro caro, fedel a ben amato Sieur Mutio di Costanzo_' (our dear, faithful and well-beloved seigneur) thou mayest read it in our '_Libro delle Rimembranze_.' Could I do aught to add thereto?”
For answer he bowed his head, in tender reverence for her thought: for the loyalty with which she sought and treasured every token of n.o.bility that had been chronicled of her husband--for the proud discretion with which she taught herself such utter silence on her wrongs--for the great love which, growing to a _culte_ through those years of girlish dreams and of fair antic.i.p.ation, had made this att.i.tude possible for her,--who was all truth.
”His Excellency the Admiral is verily the champion of Cyprus,” the Bernardini resumed after a little silence; ”and methinks he would hold dear the royal order to re-man the galleys which have been disbanded--as it is now thought, by advice of the traitor Rizzo, or of some other Councillor _in favor of Ferdinand of Naples_. I would fain bring this matter for consideration before the Council, if it hath your Majesty's favor.”
”It is well,” she said, in a tone of perplexity, ”if it seemeth so to the Council of the Realm. But our counsellors of Venice who brought us aid, spoke not of this.”
She lifted her liquid dark eyes to his face, as she spoke--a girl of nineteen, bewildered with the intricate jealousies and strifes of her island kingdom--no wonder that she felt her hands weak to hold the sceptre so disputed!
”It may be that _Venice_ hath not so closely at heart the interests of Cyprus as the Queen herself might hold them,” he answered slowly and watching her as he spoke. ”We must win the Cyprian n.o.bles to our councils and consult their needs and bring them before the people as in the grace of your Majesty. _Let us not always think the thoughts of Venice._” She started and flushed slightly at his last words, but how could he help her else?--”We must do this to bind the hearts of the n.o.bles to our Prince,” he added, to give her courage.
”Let us not always think the thoughts of Venice!” The meaning was new to her, and for a few moments she struggled with it silently; then she lifted her eyes to his face and searched it artlessly, as a child might have done, to see if she had fully comprehended his strange speech--most strange from her Venetian Councillor.