THE CONSPIRACY.
"Confusion!" exclaimed Parozzi, a Venetian nobleman of the first rank, as he paced his chamber with a disordered air on the morning after Matteo's murder; "now all curses light upon the villain's awkwardness; yet it seems inconceivable to me how all this should have fallen out so untowardly. Has any one discovered my designs?
I know well that Verrino loves Rosabella. Was it he who opposed this confounded Abellino to Matteo, and charged him to mar my plans against her? That seems likely; and now, when the Doge inquires who it was that employed assassins to murder his niece, what other will be suspected than Parozzi, the discontented lover, to whom Rosabella refused her hand, and whom Andreas hates past hope of reconciliation? And now, having once found the scent--Parozzi!
Parozzi! should the crafty Andreas get an insight into your plans, should he learn that you have placed yourself at the head of a troop of hare-brained youths--hare-brained may I well call children--who, in order to avoid the rod, set fire to their paternal mansions.
Parozzi, should all this be revealed to Andreas--?"Here his reflections were interrupted. Memmo, Falieri, and Contarino entered the room, three young Venetians of the highest rank, Parozzi's inseparable companions, men depraved both in mind and body, spendthrifts, voluptuaries, well known to every usurer in Venice, and owing more than their paternal inheritance would ever admit of their paying.
"Why, how is this, Parozzi?" cried Memmo as he entered, a wretch whose every feature exhibited marks of that libertinism to which his life had been dedicated; "I can scarce recover myself from my astonishment. For Heaven's sake, is this report true? Did you really hire Matteo to murder the Doge's niece?""I?" exclaimed Parozzi, and hastily turned away to hide the deadly paleness which overspread his countenance; "why should you suppose that any such designs--surely, Memmo, you are distracted."Memmo.--By my soul, I speak but the plain matter of fact. Nay, only ask Falieri; he can tell you more.
Falieri.--Faith, it is certain, Parozzi, that Lomellino has declared to the Doge as a truth beyond doubting that you, and none but you, were the person who instigated Matteo to attempt Rosabella's life.
Parozzi.--And I tell you again that Lomellino knows not what he says.
Contarino.--Well, well, only be upon your guard. Andreas is a terrible fellow to deal with.
Falieri.--HE terrible. I tell you he is the most contemptible blockhead that the universe can furnish! Courage perhaps he possesses, but of brains not an atom.
Contarino.--And _I_ tell you that Andreas is as brave as a lion, and as crafty as a fox.
Falieri.--Pshaw! pshaw! Everything would go to rack and ruin were it not for the wiser heads of this triumvirate of counsellors, whom Heaven confound! Deprive him of Paolo Manfrone, Conari, and Lomellino, and the Doge would stand there looking as foolish as a schoolboy who was going to be examined and had forgotten his lesson.
Parozzi.--Falieri is in the right.
Memmo.--Quite, quite.
Falieri.--And then Andreas is as proud as a beggar grown rich and dressed in his first suit of embroidery. By St. Anthony, he is become quite insupportable. Do you not observe how he increases the number of his attendants daily?
Memmo.--Nay, that is an undoubted fact.
Contarino.--And then, to what an unbounded extent has he carried his influence. The Signoria, the Quaranti, the Procurators of St. Mark, the Avocatori, all think and act exactly as it suits the Doge's pleasure and convenience! Every soul of them depends as much on that one man's honour and caprices as puppets do who nod or shake their wooden heads just as the fellow behind the curtain thinks proper to move the wires.
Parozzi.--And yet the populace idolises this Andreas.
Memmo.--Ay, that is the worst part of the story.
Falieri.--But never credit me again if he does not experience a reverse of fortune speedily.
Contarino.--That might happen would we but set our shoulders to the wheel stoutly. But what do we do? We pass our time in taverns;drink and game, and throw ourselves headlong into such an ocean of debts, that the best swimmer must sink at last. Let us resolve to make the attempt. Let us seek recruits on all sides; let us labour with all our might and main. Things must change, or if they do not, take my word for it, my friends, this world is no longer a world for us.
Memmo.--Nay, it's a melancholy truth, that during the last half-year my creditors have been ready to beat my door down with knocking. Iam awakened out of my sleep in the morning, and lulled to rest again at night with no other music than their eternal clamour.
Parozzi.--Ha! ha! ha! As for me, I need not tell you how I am suited.
Falieri.--Had we been less extravagant, we might at this moment have been sitting quietly in our palaces; but as things stand now -Parozzi.--Well, as things stand now--I verily believe that Falieri is going to moralise.
