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'During that time you know what you have to do,' added Guarini. 'You must not act against him; that would be dangerous. Leave that to me and the Queen. Sulkowski hurt many by his pride; as soon as they realise that his good luck may forsake him, they will help us. You must remain his friend till the end.'
'That was my idea also,' said Bruhl, 'even I shall protest against his departure, arguing that I shall not be able to do everything without Sulkowski.'
'Very well,' said Guarini. '_Al nemico il ponte d'oro chi fuge_--when the King asks for money, give it lavishly.'
'Even to the last thaler,' said Bruhl, rubbing his hands; then recollecting that he must show his grat.i.tude, he kissed the priest's hand.
'_Lontano dagli occhi, lontano dal cuore_,' muttered the Padre. 'The King will get accustomed to you.'
They both walked to and fro, the Padre was pondering.
'He leaves his wife, she will communicate with him,' he said quietly.
'We must have some people round her.'
'One would do,' said Guarini, 'but it seems that she is not so easy to deal with, and it is difficult to find a man for such a function.'
They began to whisper.
'_A goccia a goccia si cava la pietra_--' added the Padre.
Teresa entered from the other room; she was better dressed out of respect to the priest; she brought some fruit which she placed on the table.
The priest clapped her on the shoulder in the Italian fashion, she kissed his hand. He took several medals from his pocket, and gave Teresa one for herself, and two for her mother and the old Beppo, for which she kissed his hand again.
The dusk was already falling when Bruhl and the Padre left the room in which Teresa remained, as sad as before. The old mother came to keep her company, but they both longed so wistfully after their own sun-bathed country that they could not speak.
They had not yet lighted the lamp in order not to attract the mosquitoes, when there was again a rap at the door. Teresa did not rise although she was curious to know who was there: who could bring her any consolation?
They could hear a conversation being carried on in Italian with Beppo on the stairs; it was a woman's voice. Teresa sprang from her seat, her mother also rose. In the dusk they perceived on the threshold a tall, well-dressed and good-looking woman, and Teresa to her great surprise recognised her antagonist Faustina.
The stage queen looked round the room and seemed to be thinking what to say.
Teresa stood silent.
'Do you see, I come to you, I!' Faustina said laughing. 'I waited in vain for you to come to me, and I came to make peace! My dear Teresa, we are Italians, both from that beautiful country, where the oranges blossom, and instead of making our life sweet, we poison it. Give me your hand and let us be friends.'
Teresa hesitated, then she began to cry and threw herself on Faustina's neck.
'I never was your foe!' she exclaimed. 'I have not taken a lover from you, I never spoke ill of you.'
'Let us forget about the past!' Faustina rejoined. 'Let us not speak of it, let us be friends. Our life is bitter enough, poisoned by others; we need not help them.'
Faustina sighed.
'I come to you, for I pity you; but what is the use of good advice and of kind words? They are too late, n.o.body can stop that which is to be.'
She became silent; Teresa's mother left the room; the two women seated themselves.
'The people mar our happiness,' said Faustina, 'and we must swallow our tears. It is not our world--and at their court one must walk as cautiously as on ice, in order not to slip or fall. Fortunately I have the King, and he will be faithful to my voice. He is a good creature, who goes to his box as a horse to his stable, and I furnish him with his food of songs.'
She laughed and bent and kissed Teresa's forehead.
'I pity you, you are in that man's hands.'
Teresa looked timidly round and said:
'I am afraid of my own mother.'
'And I am not afraid of anybody,' said Faustina. 'But tell me do you know him?'
Teresa shivered.
'He is a dreadful man!' Faustina said. 'He is sweet, kind, but his laughter hisses like that of a serpent; he smiles but he has no heart.
And so pious, so modest--'
Faustina shook herself and continued:
'I have come to tell you, that soon he will rule absolutely over us all, and then woe to any of us if we resist him. _Poverina_!'
Teresa was silent. Faustina continued:
'Perhaps he is good to you, but if you could hear complaints, as I do everyday, about his oppression, you would hate him.'
'My dear Faustina,' Teresa at last replied, 'I am 80 glad you came to see me. I am so miserable! I dream continually of the Adriatic sea: it seems to me that I sit on the threshold of our cottage--_lucciole_ fly in the air, Andrea plays the guitar--the song resounds, the wind brings the scent of flowers. I wake up, listen: the wind rustles, but it brings snow, and the strange tongue resounds and the people laugh and their irony wounds and their love humiliates.'
Teresa covered her face with her hands.
'_Cara mia_,' said Faustina kissing her, 'therefore let us not tease each other but help each other on this th.o.r.n.y path.'
And she put out her hand whispering:
'Be careful of that man, for he is dreadful, and may the Madonna take care of you.'
Teresa rose and accompanied her to the door.
'_Addio_!' she said. 'May G.o.d reward you for your good heart; you came when I was sad--I am happier now that we are friends.'
Thus they separated and the thoughtful Faustina, whose _porte-chaise_ was waiting in front of the house, told the men to carry her home. She was obliged to pa.s.s the castle. The dusk was not yet as dark in the street as it was in the houses and one could recognise people's faces. Faustina looking distractedly in front of her recognised, in a _porte-chaise_ pa.s.sing hers, Sulkowski's pale face and black moustache.
She rapped at the window and cried:
'_Fermate_!'
Sulkowski leaned out. Both _porte-chaises_ stopped so that their windows were opposite each other and their occupants could converse.
Faustina dropped the gla.s.s; the minister, a little surprised, looked at her.