After a month in which the Duchessa had asked to be allowed to think things over, she yielded with a sigh to the sage views of the Minister.
"Either ride stiffly upon an English horse through the streets of some big town," repeated the Conte, "or adopt a calling that is not unbefitting his birth; I can see no middle course.
Unfortunately, a gentleman cannot become either a doctor or a barrister, and this age is made for barristers.
"Always bear in mind, Signora," the Conte went on, "that you are giving your nephew, on the streets of Milan, the lot enjoyed by the young men of his age who pass for the most fortunate.
His pardon once procured, you will give him fifteen, twenty, thirty thousand francs; the amount does not matter; neither you nor I make any pretence of saving money."
The Duchessa was susceptible to the idea of fame; she did not wish Fabrizio to be simply a young man living on an allowance; she reverted to her lover's plan.
"Observe," the Conte said to her, "that I do not pretend to turn Fabrizio into an exemplary priest, like so many that you see.
No, he is a great gentleman, first and foremost; he can remain perfectly ignorant if it seems good to him, and will none the less become Bishop and Archbishop, if the Prince continues to regard me as a useful person.
"If your orders deign to transform my proposal into an immutable decree," the Conte went on, "our protege must on no account be seen in Parma living with modest means.
His subsequent promotion will cause a scandal if people have seen him here as an ordinary priest; he ought not to appear in Parma until he has his violet stockings and a suitable establishment.
Then everyone will assume that your nephew is destined to be a Bishop, and nobody will be shocked.
"If you will take my advice, you will send Fabrizio to take his theology and spend three years at Naples. During the vacations of the Ecclesiastical Academy he can go if he likes to visit Paris and London, but he must never shew his face in Parma."
This sentence made the Duchessa shudder.
She sent a courier to her nephew, asking him to meet her at Piacenza.
Need it be said that this courier was the bearer of all the means of obtaining money and all the necessary passports?
Arriving first at Piacenza, Fabrizio hastened to meet the Duchessa, and embraced her with transports of joy which made her dissolve in tears.
She was glad that the Conte was not present; since they had fallen in love, it was the first time that she had experienced this sensation.
Fabrizio was profoundly touched, and then distressed by the plans which the Duchessa had made for him; his hope had always been that, his affair at Waterloo settled, he might end by becoming a soldier.
One thing struck the Duchessa, and still further increased the romantic opinion that she had formed of her nephew; he refused absolutely to lead a cajffe-haunting existence in one of the big towns of Italy.
"Can't you see yourself on the Corso of Florence or Naples," said the Duchessa, "with thoroughbred English horses? For the evenings a carriage, a charming apartment," and so forth.
She dwelt with exquisite relish on the details of this vulgar happiness, which she saw Fabrizio thrust from him with disdain.
"He is a hero," she thought.
"And after ten years of this agreeable life, what shall I have done?" said Fabrizio; "what shall I be?
A young man of a certain age, who will have to move out of the way of the first good-looking boy who makes his appearance in society, also mounted upon an English horse."
Fabrizio at first utterly rejected the idea of the Church. He spoke of going to New York, of becoming an American citizen and a soldier of the Republic.
"What a mistake you are making!
You won't have any war, and you'll fall back into the caffe life, only without smartness, without music, without love affairs," replied the Duchessa. "Believe me, for you just as much as for myself, it would be a wretched existence there in America."
She explained to him the cult of the god Dollar, and the respect that had to be shewn to the artisans in the street who by their votes decided everything.
They came back to the idea of the Church.
"Before you fly into a passion," the Duchessa said to him, "just try to understand what the Conte is asking you to do; there is no question whatever of your being a poor priest of more or less exemplary and virtuous life, like Priore Blanes.
Remember the example of your uncles, the Archbishops of Parma; read over again the accounts of their lives in the supplement to the Genealogy.
First and foremost, a man with a name like yours has to be a great gentleman, noble, generous, an upholder of justice, destined from the first to find himself at the head of his order … and in the whole of his life doing only one dishonourable thing, and that a very useful one."
"So all my illusions are shattered," said Fabrizio, heaving a deep sigh; "it is a cruel sacrifice!
I admit, I had not taken into account this horror of enthusiasm and spirit, even when wielded to their advantage, which from now onwards is going to prevail amongst absolute monarchs."
"Remember that a proclamation, a caprice of the heart flings the enthusiast into the bosom of the opposite party to the one he has served all his life!"
"I an enthusiast!" repeated Fabrizio; "a strange accusation!
I cannot manage even to be in love!"
"What!" exclaimed the Duchessa.
"When I have the honour to pay my court to a beauty, even if she is of good birth and sound religious principles, I cannot think about her except when I see her."
This avowal made a strange impression upon the Duchessa.
"I ask for a month," Fabrizio went on, "in which to take leave of Signora C——, of Novara, and, what will be more difficult still, of all the castles I have been building in the air all my life.
I shall write to my mother, who will be so good as to come and see me at Belgirate, on the Piedmontese shore of Lake Maggiore, and, in thirty-one days from now, I shall be in Parma incognito."
"No, whatever you do!" cried the Duchessa. She did not wish Conte Mosca to see her talking to Fabrizio.
The same pair met again at Piacenza.
The Duchessa this time was highly agitated: a storm had broken at court; the Marchesa Raversi's party was on the eve of a triumph; it was on the cards that Conte Mosca might be replaced by General Fabio Conti, the leader of what was called at Parma the Liberal Party.
Omitting only the name of the rival who was growing in the Prince's favour, the Duchessa told Fabrizio everything.
She discussed afresh the chances of his future career, even with the prospect of his losing the all-powerful influence of the Conte.
"I am going to spend three years in the Ecclesiastical Academy at Naples," exclaimed Fabrizio; "but since I must be before all things a young gentleman, and you do not oblige me to lead the life of a virtuous seminarist, the prospect of this stay at Naples does -not frighten me in the least; the life there will be in every way as pleasant as life at Romagnano; the best society of the neighbourhood was beginning to class me as a Jacobin.
In my exile I have discovered that I know nothing, not even Latin, not even how to spell.
I had planned to begin my education over again at Novara; I shall willingly study theology at Naples; it is a complicated science."