joan of naples-第17章

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　apt　at　creating　disasters；　instantly　suggested　that　she　would　soon　be　weeping　for　his　loss。

But　Louis；　always　with　his　faithful　Acciajuoli；　had　after　many　fatiguing　adventures　been　shipwrecked　at　the　port　of　Pisa；　thence　he　had　taken　route　for　Florence；　to　beg　men　and　money；　but　the　Florentines　decided　to　keep　an　absolute　neutrality；　and　refused　to　receive　him。　　The　prince；　losing　his　last　hope；　was　pondering　gloomy　plans；　when　Nicholas　Acciajuoli　thus　resolutely　addressed　him：

〃My　lord；　it　is　not　given　to　mankind　to　enjoy　prosperity　for　ever：　there　are　misfortunes　beyond　all　human　foresight。　　You　were　once　rich　and　powerful；　and　you　are　now　a　fugitive　in　disguise；　begging　the　help　of　others。　　You　must　reserve　your　strength　for　better　days。　　I　still　have　a　considerable　fortune；　and　also　have　relations　and　friends　whose　wealth　is　at　my　disposal：　let　us　try　to　make　our　way　to　the　queen；　and　at　once　decide　what　we　can　do。　　I　myself　shall　always　defend　you　and　obey　you　as　my　lord　and　master。〃

The　prince　received　these　generous　offers　with　the　utmost　gratitude；　and　told　his　counsellor　that　he　placed　his　person　in　his　hands　and　all　that　remained　of　his　future。　　Acciajuoli；　not　content　with　serving　his　master　as　a　devoted　servant；　persuaded　his　brother　Angelo；　Archbishop　of　Florence；　who　was　in　great　favour　at　Clement　VI's　court；　to　join　with　them　in　persuading　the　pope　to　interest　himself　in　the　cause　of　Louis　of　Tarentum。　　So；　without　further　delay；　the　prince；　his　counsellor；　and　the　good　prelate　made　their　way　to　the　port　of　Marseilles；　but　learning　that　the　queen　was　a　prisoner　at　Aix；　they　embarked　at　Acque…Morte；　and　went　straight　to　Avignon。　　It　soon　appeared　that　the　pope　had　a　real　affection　and　esteem　for　the　character　of　the　Archbishop　of　Florence；　for　Louis　was　received　with　paternal　kindness　at　the　court　of　Avignon；　which　was　far　more　than　he　had　expected：　When　he　kneeled　before　the　sovereign　pontiff；　His　Holiness　bent　affectionately　towards　him　and　helped　him　to　rise；　saluting　him　by　the　title　of　king。

Two　days　later；　another　prelate；　the　Archbishop　of　Aix；　came　into　the　queen's　presence；

〃Most　gracious　and　dearly　beloved　sovereign；　permit　the　most　humble　and　devoted　of　your　servants　to　ask　pardon；　in　the　name　of　your　subjects；　for　the　painful　but　necessary　measure　they　have　thought　fit　to　take　concerning　your　Majesty。　　When　you　arrived　on　our　coast；　your　loyal　town　of　Aix　had　learned　from　a　trustworthy　source　that　the　King　of　France　was　proposing　to　give　our　country　to　one　of　his　own　sons；　making　good　this　loss　to　you　by　the　cession　of　another　domain；　also　that　the　Duke　of　Normandy　had　come　to　Avignon　to　request　this　exchange　in　person。　　We　were　quite　decided；　madam；　and　had　made　a　vow　to　God　that　we　would　give　up　everything　rather　than　suffer　the　hateful　tyranny　of　the　French。　　But　before　spilling　blood　we　thought　it　best　to　secure　your　august　person　as　a　sacred　hostage；　a　sacred　ark　which　no　man　dared　touch　but　was　smitten　to　the　ground；　which　indeed　must　keep　away　from　our　walls　the　scourge　of　war。　　We　have　now　read　the　formal　annulment　of　this　hateful　plan；　in　a　brief　sent　by　the　sovereign　pontiff　from　Avignon；　and　in　this　brief　he　himself　guarantees　your　good　faith。

〃We　give　you　your　full　and　entire　liberty；　and　henceforth　we　shall　only　endeavour　to　keep　you　among　us　by　prayers　and　protestations。　　Go　then；　madam；　if　that　is　your　pleasure；　but　before　you　leave　these　lands；　which　will　be　plunged　into　mourning　by　your　withdrawal；　leave　with　us　some　hope　that　you　forgive　the　apparent　violence　to　which　we　have　subjected　you；　only　in　the　fear　that　we　might　lose　you；　and　remember　that　on　the　day　when　you　cease　to　be　our　queen　you　sign　the　death…warrant　of　all　your　subjects。〃

Joan　reassured　the　archbishop　and　the　deputation　from　her　good　town　of　Aix　with　a　melancholy　smile；　and　promised　that　she　would　always　cherish　the　memory　of　their　affection。　　For　this　time　she　could　not　be　deceived　as　to　the　real　sentiments　of　the　nobles　and　people；　and　a　fidelity　so　uncommon；　revealed　with　sincere　tears；　touched　her　heart　and　made　her　reflect　bitterly　upon　her　past。　　But　a　league's　distance　from　Avignon　a　magnificent　triumphal　reception　awaited　her。　　Louis　of　Tarentum　and　all　the　cardinals　present　at　the　court　had　come　out　to　meet　her。　　Pages　in　dazzling　dress　carried　above　Joan's　head　a　canopy　of　scarlet　velvet；　ornamented　with　fleur…de…lys　in　gold　and　plumes。　Hand　some　youths　and　lovely　girls；　their　heads　crowned　with　flowers；　went　before　her　singing　her　praise。　The　streets　were　bordered　with　a　living　hedge　of　people；　the　houses　were　decked　out；　the　bells　rang　a　triple　peal；　as　at　the　great　Church　festivals。　Clement　VI　first　received　the　queen　at　the　castle　of　Avignon　with　all　the　pomp　he　knew　so　well　how　to　employ　on　solemn　occasions；　then　she　was　lodged　in　the　palace　of　Cardinal　Napoleon　of　the　Orsini；　who　on　his　return　from　the　Conclave　at　Perugia　had　built　this　regal　dwelling　at　Villeneuve；　inhabited　later　by　the　popes。

No　words　could　give　an　idea　of　the　strangely　disturbed　condition　of　Avignon　at　this　period。　　Since　Clement　V　had　transported　the　seat　of　the　papacy　to　Provence；　there　had　sprung　up；　in　this　rival　to　Rome；　squares；　churches；　cardinals'　palaces；　of　unparalleled　splendour。　All　the　business　of　nations　and　kings　was　transacted　at　the　castle　of　Avignon。　　Ambassadors　from　every　court；　merchants　of　every　nation；　adventurers　of　all　kinds；　Italians；　Spaniards；　Hungarians；　Arabs；　Jews；　soldiers；　Bohemians；　jesters；　poets；　monks；　courtesans；　swarmed　and　clustered　here；　and　hustled　one　another　in　the　streets。　　There　was　confusion　of　tongues；　customs；　and　costumes；　an　inextricable　mixture　of　splendour　and　rags；　riches　and　misery；　debasement　and　grandeur。　　The　austere　poets　of　the　Middle　Ages　stigmatised　the　accursed　city　in　their　writings　under　the　name　of　the　New　Babylon。

There　is　one　curious　monument　of　Joan's　sojourn　at　Avignon　and　the　exercise　of　her　authority　as　sovereign。　　She　was　indignant　at　the　effrontery　of　the　women　of　the　town；　who　elbowed　everybody　shamelessly　in　the　streets；　and　published　a　notable　edict；　the　first　of　its　kind；　which　has　since　served　as　a　model　in　like　cases；　to　compel　all　unfortunate　women　who　trafficked　in　their　honour　to　live　shut　up　together　in　a　house；　that　was　bound　to　be　open　every　day　in　the　year　except　the　last　three　days　of　Holy　Week；　the　entrance　to　be　barred　to　Jews　at　all　times。　　An　abbess；　chosen　once　a　year；　had　the　supreme　control　over　this　strange　convent。　　Rules　were　established　for　the　maintenance　of　order；　and　severe　penalties　inflicted　for　any　infringement　of　discipline。　　The　lawyers　of　the　period　gained　a　great　reputation　by　this　salutary　institution；　the　fair　ladies　of　Avignon　were　eager　in　their　defence　of　the　queen　in　spite　of　the　calumnious　reports　that　strove　to　tarnish　her　reputation：　with　one　voice　the　wisdom　of　Andre's　widow　was　extolled。　　The　concert　of　praises　was　disturbed；　however；　by　murmurs　from　the　recluses　themselves；　who；　in　their　own　brutal　language；　declared　that　Joan　of　Naples　was　impeding　their　commerce　so　as　to　get　a　monopoly　for　herself。

Meanwhile　Marie　of　Durazzo　had　joined　her　sister。　　After　her　husband's　death　she　had　found　means　to　take　refuge　in　the　convent　of　Santa　Croce　with　her　two　little　daughters；　and　while　Louis　of　Hungary　was　busy　burning　his　victims；　the　unhappy　Marie　had　contrived　to　make　her　escape　in　the　frock　of　an　old　monk；　and　as　by　a　miracle　to　get　on　board　a　ship　that　was　setting　sail　for　Provence。　　She　related　to　her　sister　the　frightful　details　of　the　king's　cruelty。　　And　soon　a　new　proof　of　his　implacable　hatred　confirmed　the　tales　of　the　poor　princess。

Louis's　ambassadors　appeared　at　the　court　of　Avignon　to　demand　formally　the　queen's　condemnation。

It　was　a　great　day　when　Joan　of　Naples　pleaded　her　own　cause　before　the　pope；　in　the　presence　of　all　the　cardinals　then　at　Avignon；　all　the　ambassadors　of　foreign　powers；　and　all　the　eminent　persons　come　from　every　quarter　of　Europe　to　be　present　at　this　trial；　unique　in　the　annals　of　history。　　We　must　imagine　a　vast　enclosure；　in　whose　midst　upon　a　raised　throne；　as　president　of　the　august　tribunal；　sat　God's　vicar　on　earth；　absolute　and　supreme　judge；　emblem　of　temporal　and　spiritual　power；　of　authority　human　and　divine。　　To　right　and　left　of　the　sovereign　pontiff；　the　cardinals　in　their　red　robes　sat　in　chairs　set　round　in　a　circle；　and　behind　these　princes　of　the　Sacred　College　stretched　rows　of　bishops　extending　to　the　end　of　the　hall；　with　vicars；　canons；　deacons；　archdeacons；　and　the　whole　immense　hierarchy　of　the　Church。　　Facing　the　pontifical　throne　was　a　platform　reserved　for　the　Queen　of　Naples　and　her　suite。　　At　the　pope's　feet　stood　the　ambassadors　from　the　King　of　Hungary；　who　played　the　part　of　accusers　without　speaking　a　word；　the　circumstances　of　the　crime　and　all　the　proofs　having　been　discussed　beforehand　by　a　committee　appointed　for　the　purpose。　　The　rest　of　the　hall　was　filled　by　a　brilliant　crowd　of　high　dignitaries；　illustrious　captains；　and　noble　envoys；　all　vying　with　one　another　in　proud　display。　　Everyone　ceased　to　breathe；　all　eyes　were　fixed　on　the　dais　whence　Joan　was　to　speak　her　own　defence。　　A　movement　of　uneasy　curiosity　made　this　compact　mass　of　humanity　surge　towards　the　centre；　the　cardinals　above　raised　like　proud　peacocks　over　a　golden　harvest…field　shaken　in　the　breeze。

The　queen　appeared；　hand　in　hand　with　her　uncle；　the　old　Cardinal　of　Perigord；　and　her　aunt；　the　Countess　Agnes。　　Her　gait　was　so　modest　and　proud；　her　countenance　so　melancholy　and　pure；　her　looks　so　open　and　confident；　that　even　before　she　spoke　every　heart　was　hers。　　Joan　was　now　twenty　years　of　age；　her　magnificent　beauty　was　fully　developed；　but　an　extreme　pallor　concealed　the　brilliance　of　her　transparent　satin　skin；　and　her　hollow　cheek　told　the　tale　of　expiation　and　suffering。　　Among　the　spectators　who　looked　on　most　eagerly　there　was　a　certain　young　man　with　strongly　marked　features；　glowing　eyes；　and　brown　hair；　whom　we　shall　meet　again　later　on　in　our　narrative；　but　we　will　not　divert　our　readers'　attention；　but　only　tell　them　that　his　name　was　James　of　Aragon；　that　he　was　Prince　of　Majorca；　and　would　have　been　ready　to　shed　every　drop　of　his　blood　only　to　check　one　single　tear　that　hung　on　Joan's　eyelids。　　The　queen　spoke　in　an　agitated；　trembling　voice；　stopping　from　time　to　time　to　dry　her　moist　and　shining　eyes；　or　to　breathe　one　of　those　deep　sighs　that　go　straight　to　the　heart。　　She　told　the　tale　of　her　husband's　death　painfully　and　vividly；　painted　truthfully　the　mad　terror　that　had　seized　upon　her　and　struck　her　down　at　that　frightful　time；　raised　her　hands　to　her　brow　with　the　gesture　of　despair；　as　though　she　would　wrest　the　madness　from　her　brain…and　a　shudder　of　pity　and　awe　passed　through　the　assembled　crowd。　　It　is　a　fact　that　at　this　moment；　if　her　words　were　false；　her　anguish　was　both　sincere　and　terrible。　　An　angel　soiled　by　crime；　she　lied　like　Satan　himself；　but　like　him　too　she　suffered　all　the　agony　of　remorse　and　pride。　　Thus；　when　at　the　end　of　her　speech　she　burst　into　tears　and　implored　help　and　protection　against　the　usurper　of　her　kingdom；　a　cry　of　general　assent　drowned　her　closing　words；　several　hands　flew　to　their