Frederick the Great and His Family [227]
The Rialto is not far from there. I will go with you until within the vicinity of the convent, but not farther."
"And why not?"
"Because the door-keeper is a raging Teresiano, and would undoubtedly close the door in your face, were I at your side."
"But did you not tell me the abbot was a Prussia, no?"
"Yes, the abbot, but the porter is not; nor are many of the monks, I am sorry to say."
"Ah, even the monks are occupied with politics?"
"Signor," cried the host, pathetically, "every one here interests himself in politics; and when you hear that our little children are divided into Teresiani and Prussiani, you will credit me. There was a slight revolution yesterday in the Riva Peschiera. It was occasioned by a fishwoman's refusing to sell my cook some beautiful trout; she declared God had not created fish for the Prussiani, which, in her opinion, was another name for heathen and unbeliever. My cook insisted on having the fish, and, as unfortunately there were many Prussiani among the fishwomen, it soon came to hard words and still harder blows, and was terminated by the arrest of the principal disturbers."
They were now entering the Riva di Schiavoni, and the talkative Signor Montardo was continuing his merry tales when he was interrupted by cries and shouts of laughter and derision, and they were almost surrounded by a large crowd of excited men.
"We are fortunately at the end of our walk," said Signor Montardo, "for there is the house of my worthy friend Cicernachi, dealer in fancy goods, and it is to him we are going. Let us press forward to see what this crowd means. I presume my friend Cicernachi has prepared another surprise for the good people of Venice."
He made a way for himself and friend with his broad shoulders, and soon stood in front of the shop around which the crowd was collected. A cry of astonishment escaped the stranger, and he pointed to the entrance of the shop. "You see there," said he, "a speaking likeness of Frederick the Great."
There hung at the front of the store a large engraving in a rich golden frame. It was the portrait of Prussia's hero king--of Frederick the Great--and beneath burnt a bright lamp, its light shedding a rosy tint over Frederick's noble countenance.
"Ah! I understand it now," whispered the host. "Cicernachi has done this to enrage the Teresiani. To show his boundless reverence for the king, he has placed a burning lamp beneath his picture, an honor due only in our country to the saints. Let us hear what the people have to say of it."
Just then a Teresiano commenced a speech, accompanied by violent gesticulations, against this insult to the Church. "How can you suffer this heretic to be represented by you as a saint?" cried he, in a voice of rage. "Do you not know that the Pope has excommunicated the King of Prussia? Do you not know that he is an enemy to God, to the Church, and to our holy Catholic religion? Away, then, with this lamp! The fires of hell will devour him, but no holy lamp shall enlighten his darkened soul."
"He is right, he is right," cried some among the crowd. "Away with the lamp! Break Cicernachi's windows, for he is a Prussiano. He makes a saint of a heretic! Put out the lamp!"
"Do not venture to touch the lamp," cried others. "Back! back! or our fists shall close your eyes until neither the lamp nor the great Frederick is visible to you."
"Put out the lamp, in God's name!" cried the infuriated Teresiani. And the cry was repeated by many of his party, as they pressed forward. But the Prussiani, amongst whom were our host and the stranger, had already formed a wall of defence before the store, and were energetically beating back the approaching Teresiani. And then there occurred a tumult, such as can only occur among passionate Italians. Wild shouts, curses, and threats were heard--eyes sparkling with rage, doubled fists, and here and there a dagger or a knife was seen.
But the noise suddenly ceased, and a deep stillness prevailed. No sound was heard but the quiet even tread of the solemn silent forms that stood
"And why not?"
"Because the door-keeper is a raging Teresiano, and would undoubtedly close the door in your face, were I at your side."
"But did you not tell me the abbot was a Prussia, no?"
"Yes, the abbot, but the porter is not; nor are many of the monks, I am sorry to say."
"Ah, even the monks are occupied with politics?"
"Signor," cried the host, pathetically, "every one here interests himself in politics; and when you hear that our little children are divided into Teresiani and Prussiani, you will credit me. There was a slight revolution yesterday in the Riva Peschiera. It was occasioned by a fishwoman's refusing to sell my cook some beautiful trout; she declared God had not created fish for the Prussiani, which, in her opinion, was another name for heathen and unbeliever. My cook insisted on having the fish, and, as unfortunately there were many Prussiani among the fishwomen, it soon came to hard words and still harder blows, and was terminated by the arrest of the principal disturbers."
They were now entering the Riva di Schiavoni, and the talkative Signor Montardo was continuing his merry tales when he was interrupted by cries and shouts of laughter and derision, and they were almost surrounded by a large crowd of excited men.
"We are fortunately at the end of our walk," said Signor Montardo, "for there is the house of my worthy friend Cicernachi, dealer in fancy goods, and it is to him we are going. Let us press forward to see what this crowd means. I presume my friend Cicernachi has prepared another surprise for the good people of Venice."
He made a way for himself and friend with his broad shoulders, and soon stood in front of the shop around which the crowd was collected. A cry of astonishment escaped the stranger, and he pointed to the entrance of the shop. "You see there," said he, "a speaking likeness of Frederick the Great."
There hung at the front of the store a large engraving in a rich golden frame. It was the portrait of Prussia's hero king--of Frederick the Great--and beneath burnt a bright lamp, its light shedding a rosy tint over Frederick's noble countenance.
"Ah! I understand it now," whispered the host. "Cicernachi has done this to enrage the Teresiani. To show his boundless reverence for the king, he has placed a burning lamp beneath his picture, an honor due only in our country to the saints. Let us hear what the people have to say of it."
Just then a Teresiano commenced a speech, accompanied by violent gesticulations, against this insult to the Church. "How can you suffer this heretic to be represented by you as a saint?" cried he, in a voice of rage. "Do you not know that the Pope has excommunicated the King of Prussia? Do you not know that he is an enemy to God, to the Church, and to our holy Catholic religion? Away, then, with this lamp! The fires of hell will devour him, but no holy lamp shall enlighten his darkened soul."
"He is right, he is right," cried some among the crowd. "Away with the lamp! Break Cicernachi's windows, for he is a Prussiano. He makes a saint of a heretic! Put out the lamp!"
"Do not venture to touch the lamp," cried others. "Back! back! or our fists shall close your eyes until neither the lamp nor the great Frederick is visible to you."
"Put out the lamp, in God's name!" cried the infuriated Teresiani. And the cry was repeated by many of his party, as they pressed forward. But the Prussiani, amongst whom were our host and the stranger, had already formed a wall of defence before the store, and were energetically beating back the approaching Teresiani. And then there occurred a tumult, such as can only occur among passionate Italians. Wild shouts, curses, and threats were heard--eyes sparkling with rage, doubled fists, and here and there a dagger or a knife was seen.
But the noise suddenly ceased, and a deep stillness prevailed. No sound was heard but the quiet even tread of the solemn silent forms that stood