Secretum

Rather than clarifying my ideas, the Connestabilessa's letter left me even more confused.

My dearest Friend,

My fever shows no signs of abating and I am rather sorry to have to delay so long my arrival at the Villa Spada. The physician does, however, assure me that I should be able to resume my journey within a couple of days.

Here, meanwhile, I continue to receive news. It seems that Charles II has employed the most heartfelt tones in begging for a mediation by the Pope. The poor Catholic King is caught in a dilemma. As I had occasion to tell you, he asked his cousin Leopold I to send his youngest son, the fifteen-year old Archduke Charles from Vienna. El Rey wants him in Madrid. He even had a naval squadron made ready in the port of Cadiz to go and fetch the Archduke. It is clear that El Rey means to make him his heir. But, as you well know, the Most Christian King now comes into the picture. As soon as he learned of this move, he instructed Ambassador Harcourt to inform El Rey that such a decision would be regarded as a formal breaking of the peace and, following up this message, he immediately had a fleet rather stronger than the Spanish one put out from the port of Toulon, ready to intercept and bombard the ship carrying the Emperor's youngest son. Leopold dared not make his son run such a risk. El Rey then proposed that the Emperor should send him to Spain's Italian territories, but Leopold is temporising. After years of fighting against the Turk, the Empire is unwilling to spill its subjects' blood in its defence, and that the King of France knows.

The Most Christian King has indeed determined that now is the time to strike the decisive blow: as you know, in order to frighten the Spaniards even more, a month ago he made public the secret pact into which he had entered with Holland and England a couple of years ago, pursuant to which Spain is to be partitioned. Upon hearing the news, they royal couple hastened back to Madrid from El Escorial in a state of shock. The Queen flew into a rage and smashed everything in her bedchamber. Even I could not calm her. There is a state of emergency at Court: the Council of Grandees fears France and is ready to welcome a nephew of the Most Christian King if that will spare the country an invasion.

El Rey, for his part, wrote at once to his cousin Leopold, thanking him for having had nothing to do with the pact of partition and begging him to have no part in it in the future.

Pardon me if I have recounted here facts already known to you, but I must repeat that the situation is quite serious. If His Holiness Innocent XII is unable to bring the Most Christian King to reason, it will be the end for all of us.

Now, will the Holy Father be in a position to attend to so grave and delicate a task? We all know that he is seriously ill and that a conclave may be imminent. I have even heard that he may not wish to have anything to do with the matter. What do you know of that? It seems that he may no longer be very much his own master and that, to every question, he replies: 'And what can we do about that? ' It seems that even in those moments when he is most lucid, he likes to repeat: ' We are denied the dignity which is due to the Vicar of Christ and there is no care for us.'

It would be unheard offor someone to dare really to force the hand of His Holiness, taking advantage of his illness.

Silvio, 'tis right to pay the gods their homage due, but then I can't allow their ministers should be disturbed.

Lastly, courteous Silvio, why do you kneel to Dorinda since you're her lord? Or, if you be her slave, obey her words.

My spirit was weighed down by conjectures. I tried to take matters in order. In the first place, the Connestabilessa again spoke of a mediation. The King of Spain, or so she said, had requested the Pope's help so that he could make Archduke Charles his heir and have him brought from Vienna to Madrid without starting a war. The Most Christian King, however, was threatening to send the Archduke's ship to the bottom of the sea.

I did however recall that, in his first letter, Abbot Melani had clearly written that the Pontiff was to have provided the King of Spain with an opinion as to whom he should choose as his heir: the Duke of Anjou, nephew of the Most Christian King of France or the Archduke Charles, younger son of the Emperor of Austria. This was a very different matter from the mediation to which the Connestabilessa referred in a letter which closed on what looked like a veiled rebuke to the Abbot, whom as usual she addressed as Silvio, for the pressures which were said to be being exercised on the Pontiff.

Only, why ever should the Connestabilessa be angry with Atto? Was the old castrato then really so influential at the pontifical court?

Lastly, the Connestabilessa was answering Atto's earlier letter, in which 'midst a thousand reverences, the Abbot reminded her of his eternal platonic love. And here came the new mystery. Maria too was replying from behind a pseudonym: Dorinda.

Dorinda: now, where had I heard that name? Unlike Silvio, Dorinda was far from being a common name. And yet I seemed already to have heard it, or perhaps read it. But when?

At that juncture my soul was beset by too many questions. My curiosity was by now well and truly whetted and I hastened to read Abbot Melani's reply.

Here, however, I found myself having to read a honeyed and painfully interminable preamble of lamentations for the Connestabilessa's delays, which were said to endanger the Abbot's very life, and countless other such sickly-sweet protestations, as well as a description of the wedding between Maria Pulcheria Rocci and Clemente Spada, in which the Abbot did not spare the unfortunate bride with the most irreverent comments on her flatfish face.

Then at long last I came to what I was looking for:

Do all that you can to recover your health as soon as possible, I beg of you! Do not allow yourself to be beset by pointless worries. His Majesty King Charles II of Spain has rather wisely decided to defer to the Holy Father. The choice of the right pair of hands into which to confide his magnificent Kingdom, which unites no fewer than twenty Crowns, is surely one that calls for divine Counsel.

Fear not: Innocent XII is a Pignatelli. His is a family of faithful subjects of the Kingdom of Naples, and thus, of Spain. He will not fail to honour the Catholic Kings request, of that you may be sure. His decision, even if it may be slow in coming, will be carefully weighed up and will certainly be dictated by love for the Spanish Crown.

All of us here are sure that whatever His Holiness may decide will, for the King of Spain, be sacrosanct; nor will anyone in Europe dare disregard the Pope's opinion. Against the fulminations of Heaven the Po — tentates of this world can do nothing. The hand of the Almighty which extends its protection over the successors of Saint Peter in accordance with the words qui vos spernit, me spernit, will attribute a rightful triumph to the word of His Holiness.

I could not understand a thing. It was as though Abbot Melani and the Connestabilessa were conversing together in two different languages, caring not whether they understood one another. Had the Catholic King not decided for the Archduke, as the Connestabilessa said, and was he not imploring the Pope's support? Or did he not know which heir to back and was accordingly making his decision dependent upon the Papal opinion? Melani's letter ended thus:

And you, most clement one, do not worry about the Pontiff's health: he is surrounded by excellent persons who take good care of him and his needs, but would never dare to interfere with the pastoral role which His Holiness holds in his grasp by divine right. First among these is the Cardinal Secretary of State Fabrizio Spada, whom you too appreciate so greatly and who is anxiously awaiting your arrival at this his marvellous Villa on the Janiculum.

My friend, from this hill one dominates Rome, all Rome and perhaps a little beyond. Tarry no more.

Shalt we not be meeting in two days time, then?

And, at the foot of the letter:

So, be Dorinda. You, Silvio, what more can you expect? What can Dorinda afford you more? But you, Dorinda, goddess who dwell'st on heav'n's high summit, show Silvio now eternal pity, not eternal anger.

Atto yielded to the Connestabilessa's invitation not to bow down before her, even symbolically; indeed, said he to himself, whatever could he lay claim to any more? His love for her was hopeless. Nevertheless, Abbot Melani, replied with gentle supplication to the rebukes which the Connestabilessa regularly reserved for him when she called him Silvio. He begged her henceforth to show pity, not fury.

I had to admit that Abbot Melani had a rather fine poetic vein, in the matter of love.

I again turned over the name Dorinda in my mind but was still unable to remember where I had seen or heard it before.