"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 passing 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 canal, 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 God 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 principal disturbers."
They were now entering the Riva di Schiavoni, and the talkative Signor Montardo was continuing his merry tales when he was interrupted by cries and shouts of laughter and derision, and they were almost surrounded by a large crowd of excited men.
"We are fortunately at the end of our walk," said Signor Montardo, "for there is the house of my worthy friend Cicernachi, dealer in fancy goods, and it is to him we are going. Let us press forward to see what this crowd means. I presume my friend Cicernachi has prepared another surprise for the good people of Venice."
He made a way for himself and friend with his broad shoulders, and soon stood in front of the shop around which the crowd was collected. A cry of astonishment escaped the stranger, and he pointed to the entrance of the shop. "You see there," said he, "a speaking likeness of Frederick the Great."
There hung at the front of the store a large engraving in a rich golden frame. It was the portrait of Prussia's hero king--of Frederick the Great--and beneath burnt a bright lamp, its light shedding a rosy tint over Frederick's noble countenance.
"Ah! I understand it now," whispered the host. "Cicernachi has done this to enrage the Teresiani. To show his boundless reverence for the king, he has placed a burning lamp beneath his picture, an honor due only in our country to the saints. Let us hear what the people have to say of it."
Just then a Teresiano commenced a speech, accompanied by violent gesticulations, against this insult to the Church. "How can you suffer this heretic to be represented by you as a saint?" cried he, in a voice of rage. "Do you not know that the Pope has excommunicated the King of Prussia? Do you not know that he is an enemy to God, to the Church, and to our holy Catholic religion? Away, then, with this lamp! The fires of hell will devour him, but no holy lamp shall enlighten his darkened soul."
"He is right, he is right," cried some among the crowd. "Away with the lamp! Break Cicernachi's windows, for he is a Prussiano. He makes a saint of a heretic! Put out the lamp!"
"Do not venture to touch the lamp," cried others. "Back! back! or our fists shall close your eyes until neither the lamp nor the great Frederick is visible to you."
"Put out the lamp, in God's name!" cried the infuriated Teresiani. And the cry was repeated by many of his party, as they pressed forward. But the Prussiani, amongst whom were our host and the stranger, had already formed a wall of defence before the store, and were energetically beating back the approaching Teresiani. And then there occurred a tumult, such as can only occur among passionate Italians. Wild shouts, curses, and threats were heard--eyes sparkling with rage, doubled fists, and here and there a dagger or a knife was seen.
But the noise suddenly ceased, and a deep stillness prevailed. No sound was heard but the quiet even tread of the solemn silent forms that stood suddenly, as if they had risen from the earth in their midst. No one had seen them come--no word was spoken by them, and still many retreated timidly, fearfully from them; their presence was enough to quiet these enraged masses, to silence their anger. Even Signor Montardo deserted his prominent position before the lamp, and was gazing anxiously at the dark forms passing slowly through the crowd.
"The sbirri!" whispered he to the stranger. "The servants of the Council of Ten! Whom will they take with them?"
But it seemed as if these much-feared men only desired to cause the people to remember them only, to threaten--not to punish. They wished to remind the people that the law was watching over them. Completely hid by their long mantles, they passed with bowed heads through the crowd.
Thus without addressing or noticing any one, they passed into one of the small by-streets leading from the Rialto.
As the last one disappeared, life once more animated the crowd. All breathed more freely when relieved from their much-feared presence, and soon they commenced talking again of Cicernachi's new saint.
"You see," whispered Montardo to the stranger, "that our government is neutral. It will not punish neither the Prussiani nor the Teresiani; only warns us not to carry our zeal too far, and reminds us that it is against the law to carry a dagger or a knife in the streets. But now let us enter the shop, and I will introduce you to Cicernachi."
He took the stranger's arm, and entered the shop, where a tall, slim man met him. His long black hair hung in wild disorder on both sides of his expressive countenance, his eyes sparkled with fire, and on his full red lip there was a proud, triumphant smile.
"Well, Montardo," said he, "you come undoubtedly to congratulate me on this victory over these miserable Teresiani."
"Certainly, sir." cried Montardo, laughingly, "it was a most original idea."
"Do you know why I have done it?" said Cicernachi, "yesterday the Teresiani placed before their restaurants the bull of Pope Clement XI., which has just been confirmed and renewed by Clement XIII. It was printed on white satin, and enclosed in a beautiful gilt frame, and underneath it burnt a sacred lamp."
"What are the contents of this bull?" said Montardo.
"I will tell you the beginning." said Cicernachi, "I do not recollect all. It sounded thus: 'You have long known that Frederick, margrave of Brandenburg, in contempt for the authority of the Church, took to himself the name and insignia of king, a profane and unheard of act among Christians. He has thus unwisely enough become one of those of whom it is said in the Bible, 'They reigned, but not through Me; they were princes, but I did not know them.' Do you conceive now why I placed the king's picture before my store? why I burnt a lamp beneath it? I think this glorious portrait is more deserving of a sacred lamp than the Pope's nonsensical bull."
"You are right, signor," said the stranger, advancing to Cicernachi and shaking hands with him. "Permit me to thank you in the name of my great and noble king whom you have this day defended in so original a manner from the malicious charges of his enemies. I give you my word of honor that the king shall hear of it through me; I know it will rejoice him."
"Ah, signor," said Montardo, laughing, "you forget that you are an honest merchant who does not concern himself about politics."
"I can never forget I am a Prussian," said the traveller; "and how could I forget it?" continued he, laughing. "My whole business consists of Prussian wares."