The Love Of Caliban

The room oí the Lady Lucrece was fu!l of oool shaddows, thonuh it was mid-sunmier, and the pnrple-bordered linens at the windows swayed in the hot wind. Tliere were purple-bordered linenp, too, on the couch where the Lady Lucrece lay - one can not do much at noontide in Pisa when it is mid-summer. The heavens seemed to hang down rear to the lansuorou earth; a pa'pitant whice heat shiranu red on the streets; the lazaroni slept; at the bath-houses the attendants went ahout in shifts of linen; the shops and the stores were silent; it was too hot even to hate. If one had a vengen anee to take he waited till nightfaH, when it should be cooler. And the Lady Lucrece, flagrant f rom her bath, lay on lier coneh amid the fresh ünens, and sprinkled powder on hyr breasts to keep the moisture trom gathering there. As the long day wasted itself in languid hours the lady smiled, althotigh it was not her wont. "How many hours till nioonlight?" she asked of her niaid. "Six and more, gracious mistress," replied the niaid, drowsily; and she wiped her forehead upon her sleeve. "Ah," sighed the Lady Lucrece, "bring in Massimiliani." Am oment later aqueer, haltingstep was heard on the tiled floor in the hall outside. The curtains at the door were the green which the sea wears in the moniing. They parted, and Massimiliani stood between them. Had nature liad her way he would have been tall, but some mjsterious force had bent him alrnostdouble.and his humped shoulders and heavy liead huug always toward the earth. He was not meiely grotesque, he was hideous. There are men that nature hasjested with; Massimiliani she had cursed. Ile made a Sctlutarion with his hands - he could bend no lower. "lam forevtrbowinff," he saidto his mistress. "My qrace was so ereat the first tune I had occasion to make a salute to a lady. that I never was alloued to rtse." "Wlio was the lady?" queried his mistress, shuttiug her eyes as he stond before her. "The only wonian with whomlshall ever lie - Mother Eartli." He looked straight down at Lady Lucrece. She did not cover her bosom - why should she for Massiniiliáni? - noone countcd hini a man. He was as free ta come and eo as the spaniel that )ay upon tilt' IUÏ8. "I do not want gibes this afternoon," said his mistress. Massimiliani spread out his huge dark hands and sniiled. "Then my gracious lady did not spnd for me?" 'Send foryou? Yes, Isentforyou?" "It cannot lie. You haveforsottsn. For what mi) I but a gibe? it canp.ot be a question of wisdom, or it would not lie between a wonian and a fooi. Pei'haps it was a matter of gracPf and you want me to dance, or a matter ot beauty, and you wish me to smile, or a queslion of sweet KOiuids, and you wish me cosinsj." The Lady Luorpce eat up and put the damp hair back from her brow. "I. had soonpr bear a chorus of ravens." 6he said, but ehe lauuhed as she gaid it. Noonemindt'd Massimiliani, and she pulled at the end of his lona, hanging sleeve to make him gquat upon the floor by her feet, which hu did with a inocKinacesture. "Princes have been here belore me," said he. The lady looked haughty, but she was not ill-pleased. 'It does not relate to singing," said she. Massimiliani leaped to his feet and sei.ed some roses that lay at the foot of the conch. "The flowers!" he cried, and flung t hem froni the casement. His mistress stared at him in amazement. "From the Lord Ascanio," she replied mechanically. 'There was a tarántula amone them. Are you so good, madam, that your lovers must send you to heaven?" "Fooi!" cried the lady, angrily,' "there was no tarántula among the roses." Massimiliani sat down asain upon the Hoor. "Go on with your tale," said he, "I am no "reater íoo! than I was before." cj.hi iiw _i iin:i iw Líiíiij i n n o ui ïwic The Lady Lacrece eat pondering, with lier elbows on her knees, and her flushed clieek in her hands. "Fooi," said tlie Lady Lucrece, and lier breafh canie faster, "you have not heaid, have you " "God gave me straight ear8, the saints l'e thanked," the jester sardonicaily interrupted. " Night after night, since the summer carne, a voice below my window? Itahvays comes when the shadow of the balcony hides his figure." "That he mar not see your face, il yon lean out, and so lose his inspiration?" interjected the dwarf. The lady struck him on thí ear with her jpweled hand. The blow was light, but the dwarf shivered. ''The voice," Raid lie, "what was it like? ' The lady feil back again into her old attitude. The flowing bleeves dropped from her arms. The loose strings of pearls with which they were wreathed, tumbleddown to her elbows. Massimiliani spread hiniself ilat upon the loor, and bracina his heavy head against his lwinüs, watched her as a tiger does hiö ptey. 'Ah, fooi! T think you know I never loved. Men are so little, I could rule theni all; 1 do not want a man that 1 can rule. But his voice - it sins of war. of great rteeils, terrible and mand. And yet, Mnssimiliani, it singa of love - of love which counts power, tind money, and nameasnothIns. It does not sue for love; it demanda it as a riht. The verses which he siivj,s nre no other man's; they are his own. and he weaves them as he Bines. He does not mind that I arn creat, he loves me for my soul, he lovas me for my prioe, for my will, for my scorn of pretty tbings. He knows me as 1 am. He is the firat living creat ure who has ever done so. It inonnls - this voice - up to my lattice like a vine. It runs throngheay melodies Uk rippling water. It urows as sal as the voice of the ninht-bird. 1 weep when it singa of death; I throw up my arms and walk the room, streng as a giant, when it inssof war. and when it singa ot love, fooi, I bury my lace in my arms and blush. All day I he and dreatn of it, and in my pleepin dreams at night Ihearnaught but it. I dreiim how we shall meet j and where. I am sure he must be i beautiful." A sound from the man at her feet caused her to stop. The fooi had rolled on his back in a convulsión of laughtel', and the tears trickled down his cheeks. "Fooi!" cried thelady.sprincingfrom the touch in anger. "Mother of Qodl" exclaimed the dwarf. "Will the eternal miows melt and desert the liloasoni? Will the tower fallí Shall I bestrai.-ht? Will God takepity? Will mj lady love?" He threw his jangling punchiuello at her foot, and lore liis cap froin his heati "Wear them," he sned, "my bauhland my cap! I never cracked so excellent a jest." "Slavi!" The lady grew pnle with raae. "To-niorrow, you slutil sei , for I Bhall lind wbich of my colirtiers it is that sings tlius, and I wil) niarry him and none but hina." '■None but him, gracious lady? And all thcst) perfumed kniuhts tiiat have ben prayiiiL' to you whilemoonegrew graat and faded inro sheatlis airain and wam-d to darkness. and these thafc hold a courtly contest for your hand?1' "I wil] niarry him alone who knows my soul, and shows it to me in sonn. I sent for yon that you mitjht search him out, 1 thought you migkt do me some service.'1 "Aye. for the scorn of fifteen years, which you have given me?" "Have you not eiven me back scorn for scorn?" "At least to-day I have made yon foreet we are not eauals. You are defending yourself ayainst me, mistress, auainst your slave!" "Leave me! To-morrow mind, at night when my friends are with me, 1 shall fii:d who sang these sons, and I wil! be his wife, and none but wife. You think I cannot love, I have known none but fools though they were not all as iisly as deviis. Out of my 8sht. I do not need your aid." The fooi, with his bestial head haii2ine, and his hot eyes rolling threw up his hands with a trant io gesture and rushed fron t ho room. The day passed. Evenin;; came, and, later, themoon-light. Underthe balcony theshadows weredark. The Lady Luciece walked in Mie chamber where the candles stood dark in their silver sconces, and only the moon lit the white marble which her parments swept. She waited long the voicedid not come. The moon reached the west. and still the lady paced the floor. At length the loned-for melody, pure, vaultins, triumphant, burst into a sona of victory and love; but ere it had sung a score of words it was choked into silence. A sound arose to the lady's ears of passionate weeping; there was a disconlant janple cf the lute as though a disregardful hand had brushed it lieavily and the night wore on in silence. Thenext day no one saw thejesterMassimiliani nor the Lady Lucrece till it was nisht - a festal night- and the state'y apartmentR were ablazed with light. Never had Pisa known such a festival. Liberty reigned in hall and hovel, and the Lady Lucrece was the central figuie of the festival. She sat at the end of a hall on a dais. Robes of azare silk feil all about her; jewels looped up her hair, eliuteied on her arms. clasped her wliite neck, a'd shone in the tastening of her slippers. About lier were flowers, perfume, ligbt, music, men who were courtly, troiiien who were beautiful. There were hiarbles, catvincs, tapestries, statues, and fountaiiis. But the deep fire in the eyes of the Lady Lticrece did not catch ita inspiración from any of these thins. It was nridnight when ehe ordered the mnsic to stop. She hai been dancing and all the sensuous rhythm of the motion Beemed inipersonated in her. She went hack to the dais and stood there, youn? and fair, in the shadow of tlie ancient carvinsp. A look of maidenliness, unwonted m her, spread itself over her face. The carne of tyrants. and the blood of the tyrant was in her; btit now she looked as gentle as any niaid that ever begjjed her lover for another kiss. "1 have 8worn an oath," said p!ip, "and to-niyht I must keep it. The peopie of Pisa have long wisned me to take a lord, bnt 1 have iound none whom I desired. But, formany nilits, soine one has sun? beneath my window. I do not know the man, bnt iny soul is wedded tothe voice, and 1 will marry him alone who can proveto me to-night ihat it is his." Her hauteur had returned. She was aain the daughter of a line of dukes; she was commaudin and not seeint;. No one replied or moved. The lady spoke again. 'Surely he nead not fear; he may trust me." Sha wailed still; a woman's tremors carne back to her. "Ha must have loved me." she criad, "it was the voice of love. Let me but look on him who c&nz those Bongü to me." She held out her arms. The jewels on her bosom rose and fsJl. She seemed half sinking beneath the trenmlous agitation. Suadenly from behind the back of that creat; chair upon the dais there sprang Massimiliani, the hideous jester. "It was 1!" heeried, "It was I!" A murinur, half wrathful linlf jeerina. a bubble of laughter, surged up from the company. "Fooi!" cried the lady, "this is no time for jests." "Jt was I!" he cried, "It was I!" "Let us henr your voice, knave!" cried a saucy little iellow ofsixteen. He flnng a coin toward the looi. Massimiliani seized the coin and flun? ii in the youii2 noble's face. The bent back that had never straihtened seemed almost to straichten now, and a voice full of passionate sadness, yet melodieus and thrilling, came out of a form which seemed to be tho coveringfor only unclean tbings. It was an existent paradox; an astoundinu'; incongruity; the antithesis of facts. And as besana, a hope leaped into his eyes and a triumph into nis voice. Desire belonss not alone to Adonis; even a Caliban may love. The lady's head was bowed upon her bivast. The song he had chosen was the unlinished one she lisrened to th niuht before. The humpback bent forward in hideous importunity, but the lady's face was shaded with he.r silken scarf. He grew mad with a tumult of wild surmi8es as to what her mode might be. At lenctth she raised her fnce and he saw. It was tho tyninnical disdain of her race - the unspeakabla contempt of a mier for a presumptuous and menial knave- the mad mortificación of an outraged woman and the chaste pipue or' a maiden. He sawandcomprehendedat afiance. He kneiv it was al! over. The soiiï died upon hip lit8. The swords of the nobles, which amazenient hal kept in their shearhs, were out. Massimiliani leaped toward his mistress, caught her in his arms, kissed her where the jewels wre lost i:i her bosom, and as the fierce Italiana 8iiraed up to him he buried his siilletto in his breast. So diod the last jester of Pisa. - Ella V. Peattie.