The University of Pianura was lodged in the ancient Signoria or TownHall of the free city; and here, on the afternoon of the Duke'sbirthday, the civic dignitaries and the leading men of the learnedprofessions had assembled to see the doctorate conferred on theSignorina Fulvia Vivaldi and on several less conspicuous candidates ofthe other sex.
The city was again in gala dress. Early that morning the newconstitution had been proclaimed, with much firing of cannon and displayof official fireworks; but even these great news, and their attendantmanifestations, had failed to enliven the populace, who, instead offilling the streets with their usual stir, hung massed at certainpoints, as though curiously waiting on events. There are few sights moreominous than that of a crowd thus observing itself, watching ininconscient suspense for the unknown crisis which its own passions haveengendered.
It was known that his Highness, after the public banquet at the palace,was to proceed in state to the University; and the throng was thickabout the palace gates and in the streets betwixt it and the Signoria.
Here the square was close-packed, and every window choked with gazers,as the Duke's coach came in sight, escorted meagrely by his equerriesand the half-dozen light-horse that preceded him. The small escort, andthe marked absence of military display, perhaps disappointed thesplendour-loving crowd; and from this cause or another, scarce a cheerwas heard as his Highness descended from his coach, and walked up thesteps to the porch of ancient carved stone where the faculty awaitedhim.
The hall was already filled with students and graduates, and with theguests of the University. Through this grave assemblage the Duke passedup to the row of armchairs beneath the dais at the farther end of theroom. Trescorre, who was to have attended his Highness, had excusedhimself on the plea of indisposition, and only a fewgentlemen-in-waiting accompanied the Duke; but in the brown half-lightof the old Gothic hall their glittering uniforms contrasted brilliantlywith the black gowns of the students, and the sober broadcloth of thelearned professions. A discreet murmur of enthusiasm rose at theirapproach, mounting almost to a cheer as the Duke bowed before taking hisseat; for the audience represented the class most in sympathy with hispolicy and most confident of its success.
The meetings of the faculty were held in the great council-chamber wherethe Rectors of the old free city had assembled; and such a setting wasregarded as peculiarly appropriate to the present occasion. The fact wasalluded to, with much wealth of historical and mythological analogy, bythe President, who opened the ceremonies with a polysyllabic Latinoration, in which the Duke was compared to Apollo, Hercules and Jason,as well as to the flower of sublunary heroes.
This feat of rhetoric over, the candidates were called on to advance andreceive their degrees. The men came first, profiting by the momentaryadvantage of sex, but clearly aware of its inability to confer evenmomentary importance in the eyes of the impatient audience. A pausefollowed, and then Fulvia appeared. Against the red-robed faculty at theback of the dais, she stood tall and slender in her black cap and gown.
The high windows of painted glass shed a paleness on her face, but hercarriage was light and assured as she advanced to the President andknelt to receive her degree. The parchment was placed in her hand, thefurred hood laid on her shoulders; then, after another flourish ofrhetoric, she was led to the lectern from which her discourse was to bedelivered. Odo sat just below her, and as she took her place their eyesmet for an instant. He was caught up in the serene exaltation of herlook, as though she soared with him above wind and cloud to a region ofunshadowed calm; then her eyes fell and she began to speak.
She had a pretty mastery of Latin, and though she had never beforespoken in public, her poetical recitations, and the early habit ofintercourse with her father's friends, had given her a fair measure offluency and self-possession. These qualities were raised to eloquence bythe sweetness of her voice, and by the grave beauty which made theacademic gown seem her natural wear, rather than a travesty of learning.
Odo at first had some difficulty in fixing his attention on what shesaid; and when he controlled his thoughts she was in the height of herpanegyric of constitutional liberty. She had begun slowly, almostcoldly; but now her theme possessed her. One by one she evoked thefamiliar formulas with which his mind had once reverberated. They wokeno echo in him now; but he saw that she could still set them ringingthrough the sensibilities of her hearers. As she stood there, a slightimpassioned figure, warming to her high argument, his sense of irony wastouched by the incongruity of her background. The wall behind her wascovered by an ancient fresco, fast fading under its touches of renewedgilding, and representing the patron scholars of the mediaeval world:
the theologians, law-givers and logicians under whose protection thefree city had placed its budding liberties. There they sat, rigid andsumptuous on their Gothic thrones: Origen, Zeno, David, Lycurgus,Aristotle; listening in a kind of cataleptic helplessness to aconfession of faith that scattered their doctrines to the winds. As helooked and listened, a weary sense of the reiterance of things came overhim. For what were these ancient manipulators of ideas, prestidigitatorsof a vanished world of thought, but the forbears of the long line oftheorists of whom Fulvia was the last inconscient mouthpiece? The newgame was still played with the old counters, the new jugglers repeatedthe old tricks; and the very words now poured out in defence of the newcause were but mercenaries scarred in the service of its enemies. Forgenerations, for centuries, man had fought on; crying for liberty,dreaming it was won, waking to find himself the slave of the new forceshe had generated, burning and being burnt for the same beliefs underdifferent guises, calling his instinct ideas and his ideas revelations;destroying, rebuilding, falling, rising, mending broken weapons,championing extinct illusions, mistaking his failures for achievementsand planting his flag on the ramparts as they fell. And as the vision ofthis inveterate conflict rose before him, Odo saw that the beauty, thepower, the immortality, dwelt not in the idea but in the struggle forit.
His resistance yielded as this sense stole over him, and with an almostphysical relief he felt himself drawn once more into the familiarcurrent of emotion. Yes, it was better after all to be one of that greatunconquerable army, though, like the Trojans fighting for a phantomHelen, they might be doing battle for the shadow of a shade; better tomarch in their ranks, endure with them, fight with them, fall with them,than to miss the great enveloping sense of brotherhood that turneddefeat to victory.
As the conviction grew in him, Fulvia's words regained their lostsignificance. Through the set mask of language the living thoughtslooked forth, old indeed as the world, but renewed with the new life ofevery heart that bore them. She had left the abstract and dropped toconcrete issues: to the gift of the constitution, the benefits andobligations it implied, the new relations it established between rulerand subject and between man and man. Odo saw that she approached thequestion without flinching. No trace remained of the trembling woman whohad clung to him the night before. Her old convictions repossessed herand she soared above human fears.
So engrossed was he that he had been unaware of a growing murmur ofsound which seemed to be forcing its way from without through the wallsof the ancient building. As Fulvia's oration neared its end the murmurrose to a roar. Startled faces were turned toward the doors of thecouncil-chamber, and one of the Duke's gentlemen left his seat and madehis way through the audience. Odo sat motionless, his eyes on Fulvia. Henoticed that her face paled as the sound reached her, but there was nobreak in the voice with which she uttered the closing words of herperoration. As she ended, the noise was momentarily drowned under a loudburst of clapping; but this died in a hush of apprehension through whichthe outer tumult became more ominously audible. The equerry reenteredthe hall with a disordered countenance. He hastened to the Duke andaddressed him urgently.
"Your Highness," he said, "the crowd has thickened and wears an uglylook. There are many friars abroad, and images of the Mountain Virginare being carried in procession. Will your Highness be pleased to remainhere while I summon an escort from the barracks?"Odo was still watching Fulvia. She had received the applause of theaudience with a deep reverence, and was now in the act of withdrawing tothe inner room at the back of the dais. Her eyes met Odo's; she smiledand the door closed on her. He turned to the equerry.
"There is no need of an escort," he said. "I trust my people if they donot trust me.""But, your Highness, the streets are full of demagogues who have beenharanguing the people since morning. The crowd is shouting against theconstitution and against the Signorina Vivaldi."A flame of anger passed over the Duke's face; but he subdued itinstantly.
"Go to the Signorina Vivaldi," he said, pointing to the door by whichFulvia had left the hall. "Assure her that there is no danger, but askher to remain where she is till the crowd disperses, and request thefaculty in my name to remain with her."The equerry bowed, and hurried up the steps of the dais, while the Dukesigned to his other companions to precede him to the door of the hall.
As they walked down the long room, between the close-packed ranks of theaudience, the outer tumult surged threateningly toward them. Near thedoorway, another of the gentlemen-in-waiting was seen to speak with theDuke............