IX
That night when all others slept, Giovanni, tormented by insomnia, rose and went into the court, where was a stone bench under a tent of vine branches. The court was square, and in its centre was a well; behind the bench was the wall of the house, opposite the stable; to the left a stone wall with a wicket-gate which opened on the street of the Porta Vercellina; to the right the wall of a little garden and a door always locked and leading to a separate building. Here Astro alone was allowed ingress, and here Leonardo was wont to work in complete seclusion.
The night was still and warm, with a thick mist, penetrated by dim moonlight. A low knock sounded on the gate which opened on the road; the shutter of one of the lower windows was opened, and a man peered out, asking:—
'Monna Cassandra?'
''Tis I. Open!'
Astro came from the house and let her in; a girl clad in white, which the moonlight and the mist changed to a strange green. They parleyed together at the gate; then passed Giovanni without seeing him, where he sat in the deep shadow of the vine branches.
The girl seated herself on the low wall of the well. Her face was an odd one, immobile and placid, like the faces of old statues. She had a low forehead, straight black eyebrows, too small a chin, and eyes of transparent amber. But what chiefly struck Giovanni was her hair, so light, so soft, so crisp, as if possessed of life. Like the Medusa's aureole of serpents, its blackness framed her face, making its paleness paler, its lips more scarlet, its amber eyes more translucent.
'Then you too, Astro, have heard speak of Frate Angelo?' said the girl.
'Yes, Monna Cassandra. They say the Pope hath sent him to extirpate heresy and black magic. And I tell you, merely to hear what is told of the Fathers Inquisitors raises the hair of your skin! God keep us from their claws! Monna Cassandra, be discreet; and, above all, warn your aunt.'
'A pretty aunt she is to me!'
'It matters not. Warn that Monna Sidonia with whom you live.'
'Then, blacksmith, you suppose us witches?'
'I suppose nothing. Messer Leonardo hath taught me there is no witchcraft; nor can be none, by the law of nature. Messer Leonardo knows everything and believes in nothing.'
'Believes in nothing? Not in the devil? Not in God?'
'Jest not! Messer Leonardo is a saint.'
'And your flying-machine?' she said contemptuously; 'is it ready?'
The smith waved his hand despairingly.
'Ready? We are going to make it all over again!'
'Astro! Astro! You credit this nonsense? These machines are dust cast into the eyes. I wager Messer Leonardo has flown many a time ere now.'
'Flown? How?'
'He flies—as I fly.'
He surveyed her thoughtfully.
'You fly in dreams, Monna Cassandra.'
'You think that is it? Nay, others have seen me fly. Perhaps you know not the tale?'
The smith scratched his head hesitatingly.
'But I forget,' she said mockingly; 'you are all learned folk here, who believe not in miracles, but in mechanics.'
'S'death! Those same mechanics are a weight on my neck. Did you but know——' He spread out his hands appealingly, and continued: 'Monna Cassandra; you know my faithfulness. Nor is there temptation to chatter, lest Frate Angelo play eavesdropper. Tell me, then, in all secrecy, tell me of your charity with all the particulars——'
'Tell you what?'
'How you fly.'
'Not that, my friend; no. If you know too much you will age too soon.'
She paused; then said softly, after a long look straight into his eyes. 'What avails it to talk? You must act.'
'What is required?' asked Astro in trembling tones, and turning pale.
'You must know a certain word, and you must anoint your skin with a certain unguent.'
'Have you this unguent?'
'Yes.'
'And you know the word?'
She nodded.
'And then one can fly?'
'Try. You will find my method simpler than your mechanics.'
The single eye of the smith blazed with the madness of desire.
'Monna Cassandra, give me your unguent.'
She suppressed a laugh.
'You are a simpleton, Astro. Five minutes ago you called magic foolery; now, it seems, you believe in it.'
Astro hung his head, convicted, but unrepentant.
'I wish to fly. I care little if I attain by mechanics or by miracles. What I can endure no longer is waiting.'
The girl laid her hand on his shoulder.
'I see, I see. Truly, I pity you. It is clear your brain will crack if you don't get to your flying. Good, then; I will give you the drug and I will teach you the word. But you likewise, Astro, you must do what I ask of you.'
'I will, Monna Cassandra. I will do anything. Speak.' The girl pointed to the wet roof beyond the garden wall.
But Astro frowned and shook his head.
'Nay. I will do whatever you ask, saving only that.'
'And why not that?'
'I have promised my master to let none in.'
'But you go thither?'
'Yea.'
'What is there within?'
'No mystery, Monna Cassandra; nothing of moment. Machines, appliances, books, manuscripts. Certain strange plants, beasts, creeping things. Travellers bring them from distant lands. And there is one tree which has been poisoned.'
'What? poisoned?'
'Ay. He has it for experiments; that he may know the effect poison has upon plants.'
'Good Astro, tell me all you know of that tree.'
'There is naught to tell. Early in the spring season he bored him a hole in its trunk, to the very core; and with a long thin needle he squirted in some venom.'
'What strange experiments! And of what sort is the tree?'
'A peach-tree.'
'What followed? Was the fruit also poisoned?'
'It will be so when ripe.'
'Can you see in the peaches that they are poisoned?'
'No; and that is why he permits no entry, lest some one might eat the fruit and die.'
'Have you the key?'
'Ay.'
'Good Astro, give it to me!'
'Monna Cassandra! Have I not sworn to him?'
'Give me the key; and I will compass it that to-night you shall fly—this very night. See, this is the drug.'
She drew from her bosom a phial which contained a dark liquid; and putting her face close to his, she whispered wheedlingly, 'What is it you fear, simpleton? You say there are no mysteries. Well, then, let us go and make sure. The key, Astro, the key!'
'No,' he replied, 'I will not let you enter; and I care nothing for your secret. Leave me.'
'Coward!' cried the girl, fine scorn on her face; 'it is possible for you to know the secret, and you dare not hear it! Now I see plainly he is a sorcerer, and he tricks you as he would trick an infant!'
But neither could scorn move him; he turned away his head, listening sullenly. Then Cassandra drew nearer again.
'Well, Astro, so be it. I will not enter. Only do you set the door ajar and let me peep——'
'You will not go in?'
'No; only open and let me just look.'
At this he drew forth the key and unlocked the door.
Giovanni, rising softly and drawing nearer, saw a common peach-tree at the far end of the little walled garden; under the dim green moonlight the tree seemed weird and ill-omened.
Standing in the doorway, the girl looked about her with the wide eyes of eager curiosity. Then she took a step forward. The smith held her back; but she freed herself and slipped through his hands like a snake. He again pushed her out, almost overthrowing her. But she recovered her balance easily, and looked him full in the eyes. Her face pale, livid, and contracted with rage, was terrifying; at that moment she truly seemed a witch.
The smith clapped to the door, and without further speech retreated to the house, she following him with her golden eyes. Presently she strode hastily past Giovanni, and through the wicket into the road of the Porta Vercellina. Once more silence reigned, and the mist thickened; all things vanished in it.
Giovanni, left alone, closed his eyes painfully. Before him rose as in a vision the awful tree, the heavy drops on its damp leaves, its poisoned fruits, pallidly illuminated. And he thought of the words:—
'Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat. But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil thou shalt not eat. For in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.'
BOOK III
THE POISONED FRUITS—1494
'And the Serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die. For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.—Gen. iii. 4 and 5.
'Faciendo un bucho con un succhiello dentro un albusciello, a chacciandovi arsenicho e risalgallo e sollimato stemperati con acqua arzente, a forza di fare e sua frutti velenosi.'—Leonardo da Vinci.
(Having pierced the heart of a young tree, inject arsenic, a reagent and corrosive sublimate, diluted with alcohol, so as to envenom even the fruit.)