Thus saying, he grasped his beard and chin with his hand, as if to concentrate more completely the powers of his mind. But the more clearly he perceived the pressing nature of the case, the more uncertain and dangerous appeared every mode of meeting it. To endeavour to make Don Abbondio sensible of a failure in duty? This appeared hopeless; fear was more powerful with him than either shame or duty. To inform the cardinal archbishop, and invoke his authority? That would require time; and, in the meanwhile, what was to be done? To resist Don Roderick? How? Impossible! The affair being one of a private nature, he would not be sustained by the brethren of his order: he would, perhaps, be raising a storm against himself; and, what was worse, by a useless attempt render the condition of Lucy more hopeless and deplorable. After many reflections he came to the conclusion to go to Don Roderick himself, and to endeavour by prayers and representations of the punishments of the wicked in another state, to win him from his infamous purpose. At least he might at the interview discover something of his intentions, and determine his measures accordingly. At this moment Renzo, who, as the reader will readily imagine, could not long be absent at so interesting a crisis, appeared at the door of the room; the father raised his head and bowed to him affectionately, and with a look of intense pity.
“Have they told you, father?” enquired he, with a troubled voice.
“Yes, my son; and on that account I am here.”
“What do you say of the villain?”
“What do I say of him? I say to you, dear Renzo, that you must confide in God, and He will not abandon you.”
“Blessed words!” exclaimed the youth: “you are not one of those who wrong the poor. But the curate and this doctor——”
“Do not torment yourself uselessly: I am but a poor friar; but I repeat to you that which I have already said to Lucy and her mother—poor as I am, I will never abandon you.”
“Oh! you are not like the friends of the world—rascals—when I was in prosperity, abundant in protestations; ready to shed their blood for me, to sustain me against the devil! Had I an enemy, they would soon put it out of his power to molest me! And now, to see them withdraw themselves!” He was interrupted in his vituperations by the dark shade which passed over the countenance of his auditor; he perceived the blunder he had made, and attempting to remedy it, became perplexed and confused. “I would say—I did not at all intend—that is, I meant to say——”
“What did you mean to say? You have already begun to mar my undertaking. It is well that thou art undeceived in time. What! thou didst seek friends! and what friends! they could not have aided thee, had they been willing. And thou didst not apply to the only friend who can and will protect thee;—dost thou not know that God is the friend of all who trust in Him? dost thou not know that to spread the talons does little good to the weak? and even if——” at these words he grasped forcibly Renzo’s arm; his countenance, without losing his wonted authority, displayed an affecting remorse; his eyes were fixed on the ground; and his voice became slow and sepulchral: “and even if that little should be gained, how terribly awful! Renzo, will you confide in me?—that I should say in me! a worm of the dust! will you not confide in God?”
“Oh! yes!” replied Renzo; “He only is the Lord.”