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Scarcely had Abellino achieved the bloody deed which employed every tongue in Venice, when he changed his dress and whole appearance with so much expedition and success as to prevent the slightest suspicion of his being Matteo's murderer. He quitted the gardens unquestioned, nor left the least trace which could lead to a discovery.
He arrived at Cinthia's dwelling. It was already evening. Cinthia opened the door, and Abellino entered the common apartment.
"Where are the rest?" said he in a savage tone of voice whose sound made Cinthia tremble.
"They have been asleep," she answered, "since mid-day. Probably they mean to go out on some pursuit to-night." Abellino threw himself into a chair, and seemed to be lost in thought.
"But why are you always so gloomy, Abellino?" said Cinthia, drawing near him; "it's that which makes you so ugly. Prithee away with those frowns; they make your countenance look worse than nature made it?"
Abellino gave no answer.
"Really, you are enough to frighten a body! Come, now, let us be friends, Abellino; I begin not to dislike you, and to endure your appearance; and I don't know but--"
"Go, wake the sleepers!" roared the bravo.
"The sleepers? Pshaw, let them sleep on, the stupid rogues. Sure you are not afraid to be alone with me? Mercy on me, one would think I looked as terrible as yourself? Do I? Nay, look on me, Abellino."
Cinthia, to say the truth, was by no means an ill-looking girl; her eyes were bright and expressive; the hair fell in shining ringlets over her bosom; her lips were red and full, and she bowed them towards Abellino's. But Abellino's were still sacred by the touch of Rosabella's cheek. He started from his seat, and removed, yet gently, Cinthia's hand, which rested on his shoulder.
"Wake the sleepers, my good girl," said he, "I must speak with them this moment."
Cinthia hesitated.
"Nay, go," said he, in a fierce voice.
Cinthia retired in silence; yet as she crossed the threshold, she stopped for an instant and menaced him with her finger.
Abellino strode through the chamber with hasty steps, his head reclining on his shoulder, his arms folded over his breast.
"The first step is taken," said he to himself. "There is one moral monster the less on earth. I have committed no sin by this murder; I have but performed a sacred duty. Aid me, thou Great and Good, for arduous is the task before me. Ah, should that task be gone through with success, and Rosabella be the reward of my labours-- Rosabella? What, shall the Doge's niece bestow on the outcast Abellino? Oh, madman that I am to hope it, never can I reach the goal of my wishes! No, never was there frenzy to equal mine. To attach myself at first sight to--Yet Rosabella alone is capable of thus enchanting at first sight--Rosabella and Valeria? To be beloved by two such women--Yet, though 'tis impossible to attain, the striving to attain such an end is glorious. Illusions so delightful will at least make me happy for a moment, and alas, the wretched Abellino needs so many illusions that for a moment will make him happy! Oh, surely, knew the world what I gladly would accomplish, the world would both love and pity me."
Cinthia returned; the four bravoes followed her, yawning, grumbling, and still half asleep.
"Come, come!" said Abellino, "rouse yourselves, lads. Before I say anything, be convinced that you are wide awake, for what I am going to tell you is so strange that you would scarce believe it in a dream."
They listened to him with an air of indifference and impatience.
"Why, what's the matter now?" said Thomaso, while he stretched himself.
"Neither more nor less than that our honest, hearty, brave Matteo is murdered."
"What, murdered!" every one exclaimed, and gazed with looks of terror on the bearer of this unwelcome news; while Cinthia gave a loud scream, and, clasping her hands together, sank almost breathless into a chair.
A general silence prevailed for some time.
"Murdered"' at length repeated Thomaso, "and by whom?"
Baluzzo.--Where?
Pietrino.--What? this forenoon?
Abellino.--In the gardens of Dolabella, where he was found bleeding at the feet of the Doge's niece. Whether he fell by her hand, or by that of one of her admirers, I cannot say.
Cinthia (weeping).--Poor dear Matteo.
Abellino.--About this time to-morrow you will see his corpse exhibited on the gibbet.
Pietrino.--What! Did any one recognise him?
Abellino.--Yes, yes! there's no doubt about his trade, you may depend on't.
Cinthia.--The gibbet! Poor dear Matteo!
Thomaso.--This is a fine piece of work.
Baluzzo.--Confound the fellow, who would have thought of anything happening so unlucky?
Abellino.--Why, how now? You seem to be overcome.
Struzza.--I cannot recover myself; surprise and terror have almost stupefied me.
Abellino.--Indeed! By my life, when I heard the news I burst into laughter. "Signor Matteo," said I, "I wish your worship joy of your safe arrival."
Thomaso.--What?
Struzza.--You laughed? Hang me if I can see what there is to laugh at.
Abellino.--Why, surely you are not afraid of receiving what you are so ready to bestow on others? What is your object? What can we expect as our reward at the end of our labours except the gibbet or the rock? What memorials of our actions shall we leave behind us, except our skeletons dancing in the air, and the chains which rattle round them? He who chooses to play the bravo's part on the great theatre of the world must not be afraid of death, whether it comes at the hands of the physician or the executioner. Come, come, pluck up your spirits, comrades.
Thomaso.--That's easy to say, but quite out of my power.
Pietrino.--Mercy on me, how my teeth chatter.
Baluzzo.--Prithee, Abellino, be composed for a moment or two, your gaiety at a time like this is quite horrible.
Cinthia.--Oh, me! oh, me! Poor murdered Matteo.
Abellino.--Hey-day. Why, what is all this! Cinthia, my life, are you not ashamed of being such a child? Come, let you and I renew that conversation which my sending you to wake these gentlemen interrupted. Sit down by me, sweetheart, and give me a kiss.
Cinthia.--Out upon you, monster.
Abellino.--What, have you altered your mind, my pretty dear? Well, well, with all my heart, when YOU are in the humour, perhaps _I_ may not have the inclination.
Baluzzo.--Death and the devil, Abellino, is this a time for talking nonsense? Prithee keep such trash for a fitter occasion, and let us consider what we are to do just now.
Pietrino.--Nay, this is no season for trifling.
Struzza.--Tell us, Abellino; you are a clever fellow; what course is it best for us to take?
Abellino (after a pause).--Nothing must be done, or a great deal. One of two things we must choose. Either we must remain WHERE we are, and WHAT we are, murder honest men to please any rascal who will give us gold and fair words, and make up our minds to be hung, broken on the wheel, condemned to the galleys, burnt alive, crucified, or beheaded, at the long run, just as it may seem best to the supreme authority; or else -
Thomaso.--Or else? Well?
Abellino.--Or else we must divide the spoils which are already in our possession, quit the Republic, begin a new and better life, and endeavour to make our peace with Heaven. We have already wealth enough to make it unnecessary for us to ask how shall we get our bread? You may either buy an estate in some foreign country, or keep Osteria, or engage in commerce, or set up some trade, or, in short, do whatever you like best, so that you do but abandon the profession of an assassin. Then we may look out for a wife among the pretty girls of our own rank in life, become the happy fathers of sons and daughters may eat and drink in peace and security, and make amends by the honesty of our future lives for the offences of our past.
Thomaso.--Ha! ha! ha!
Abellino.--What YOU do, that will _I_ do too; I will either hang or be broken on the wheel along with you, or become an honest man, just as you please. Now, then, what is your decision?
Thomaso.--Was there ever such a stupid counsellor.
Pietrino.--Our decision? Nay, the point's not very difficult to decide.
Abellino.--I should have thought it HAD been.
Thomaso.--Without more words, then, I vote for our remaining as we are, and carrying on our old trade; that will bring us plenty of gold, and enable us to lead a jolly life.
Pietrino.--Right, lad, you speak my thoughts exactly.
Thomaso.--We are bravoes, it's true; but what then? We are honest fellows, and the devil take him who dares to say we are not. However, at any rate, we must keep within doors for a few days, lest we should be discovered; for I warrant you the Doge's spies are abroad in search of us by this. But as soon as the pursuit is over, be it our first business to find out Matteo's murderer, and throttle him out of hand as a warning to all others.
All.--Bravo, bravissimo.
Pietrino.--And from this day forth I vote that Thomaso should be our captain.
Struzza.--Aye, in Matteo's stead.
All.--Right, right.
Abellino.--To which I say amen with all my heart. Now, then, all is decided.
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