The reader has now heard enough to make him fully aware that the Carmelite Convent was an establishment enjoying influence, exercising an authority, and wielding a power, which—if these were misdirected—constituted an enormous abuse in the midst of states bearing the name of a republic. But the career of the Medici was then hastening toward a close; and in proportion as the authority of the duke became more circumscribed, the encroachments of the ecclesiastical orders grew more extensive.
The Abbess Maria, who was far advanced in years, but was endowed with one of those vigorous intellects against which Time vainly directs his influence, received the Lady Nisida in a little parlor plainly furnished. The praying desk was of the most humble description; and above it rose a cross of wood so worm-eaten and decayed that it seemed as if the grasp of a strong hand would crush it into dust. But this emblem of the creed had been preserved in the Carmelite Convent since the period of the Second Crusade, and was reported to consist of a piece of the actual cross on which the Saviour suffered in Palestine.
Against the wall hung a scourge, with five knotted thongs, whereon the blood-stains denoted the severity of that penance which the abbess frequently inflicted upon herself. On a table stood a small loaf of coarse bread and a pitcher of water; for although a sumptuous banquet was every day served up in the refectory, the abbess was never known to partake of the delicious viands nor to place her lips in contact with wine.
When Nisida entered the presence of the abbess, she sank on her knees, and folded her arms meekly across her bosom. The holy mother gave her a blessing, and made a motion for her to rise. Nisida obeyed, and took a seat near the abbess at the table.
She then drew forth her tablets, and wrote a few lines, which the superior read with deep attention.
Nisida placed a heavy purse of gold upon the table, and the abbess nodded an assent to the request contained in the lines inscribed on the tablet.
The interview was about to terminate, when the door suddenly opened, and an elderly nun entered the room.
“Ursula,” said the lady abbess, in a cold but reproachful tone, “didst thou not know that I was engaged? What means this abrupt intrusion?”
“Pardon me, holy mother!” exclaimed the nun: “but the rumor of such a frightful murder has just reached us——”
“A murder!” ejaculated the abbess. “Oh! unhappy Florence, when wilt thou say farewell to crimes which render thy name detestable among Italian states?”